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youpricksneverwalk · 7 months
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sttoru · 6 months
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your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff / angst / hurt + comfort. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s). nicknames used; ‘(little) baby’. he’s honestly just the perfect combination of gentle and teasing. subtle mentions of size difference.
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satoru shifts on the couch whilst letting out an inaudible yawn. he was tired after an entire day at work and finally had the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.
though, he couldn’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he was in fact home, but it didn’t feel like it. not when you were missing.
you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight — just a little squabble between lovers. satoru didn’t rush after you when you had decided to walk away midst argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.
he figured that you just needed some time alone and thus decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.
satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.
it was dead silent in the apartment that was usually filled with your lively chatter. the sorcerer wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep. but, you needed space and he wasn’t going to disturb you.
he drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths were steady and his thoughts were surprisingly calm. satoru almost drifts off to sleep, however his body lightly jolts awake once he hears the creaking of a door.
careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.
satoru moves his arm to the side so his vision wouldn’t be obstructed. his eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe — one he could recognise instantly.
it was you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you didn’t take another step forwards and just lingered in your spot for a few seconds without saying anything.
“hey, baby.” satoru breaks the silence. his voice was as soft as it could be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration in it. even if he had all the reason to be upset according to you.
you remember just how childish you acted earlier; you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand. the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.
in contrast to your immature behaviour, satoru had stayed calm and collected throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you even once nor did he blame you for anything. you felt bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.
you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you were about to do.
you knew you had to apologise for your behaviour, but what you needed first was his validation. you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket satoru was using.
your arms wrap around his torso and you hug him tightly to your body, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.
satoru’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden show of affection, though he wasn’t complaining. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.
“my little baby.” he chuckles, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything was and will be fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me — thank you.”
again. that tender tone satoru uses only with you and for you. the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop the process.
“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body was enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace. satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depended on it.
no words were exchanged between you two for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out and so you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes were watery and a bit red.
the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you were so adorable and precious to him. even when you looked like a mess — a pretty mess.
“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanted to apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i apologise for that as well.”
your lover nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”
you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that was all the reassurance you had needed to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still felt bad and the guilt of your immature actions seemed to linger in the back of your mind.
you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat — hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lays on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.
“i’m sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be troubling to deal with.” you whisper as you enjoy the feeling of being back in satoru’s arms.
he grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours — even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.
the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “heh, i’d be lying if i said that you trying to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”
satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that little finger of yours in front of his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating were quite endearing.
it’s not like he was invalidating your feelings with that comment — he was genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it wasn’t like it didn’t work.
“whatever.” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response. you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.
you aren’t the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.
no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.
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6gumi · 23 days
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oh my! what a naughty bunny!
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synopsis﹒honkai star rail men n’ their bunny girlfriend !
pairings﹒boothill 、sunday 、dr ratio 、aventurine 、gallagher x bunny fem!reader
cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited. mild dacryphilia ( dr ratio 、sunday ) 、mating press ( gallgaher . . . becuz he’s big ) 、spanking ( dr ratio ) 、fingering ( aventurine ) 、cunilingus ( aventurine ) 、blowie ( sunday ) 、dirty talk ( boothill ) 、 some of them tug on ur ears :> 、petnames ( bunny 、sugar 、etc ! )
note﹒i am slowly catchin’ up in honkai star rail so i decided tew write these ! ! :33 been thinkin’ hard about dis anyways so . . it doesn’t hurt to write a lil sumn ! mistakes might be found . . | reblogs are highly appreciated. feel free to send me an ask if you would like to talk t’me or send a thirst/rq ! — millie ♡
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୨୧ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋
boothill couldn't help but chuckle at your pathetic attempts to resist him, you were the one who wanted him first and begging for him to fuck you . . . why are you changing your mind now? your struggles were utterly adorable and only further fueled his desire. “oh sugar," he muttered gently, reaching out to cup your chin. his eyes softened as he looked into your tear-filled eyes. the cowboy knew your body was aching for release, the desperation and excitement coursing through your veins. "i can’t understand ya, baby," he whispered, leaning in close to your ear. "do you want me or nah? ‘cause i’ll walk ‘outta this room if you keep whinin’ and grindin’ against me like this, be vocal. tell me what ‘cha need.”
“n—no! don’t wanna!”
“don’t wanna what, bunny? use ya words.”
“i . . don’t want you to walk out . .”
“good girl. see, wasn’t s’ hard to use your words, yeah?” boothill chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he met your gaze. His eyes darkened with desire, but there was still a playful twinkle within. “such a slutty bunny,” the cowboy gave you a wicked grin, his hand trailing down your exposed stomach, stopping just above your panties. the fabric was damp from your arousal, and he couldn't help but smirk. “listen baby, ima reward you if you're a good girl . . a real pleasure show for a real naughty bunny like you."
your ears twitched at his words, squealing when he pulled you even closer. “am not a naughty bunny . . .” “yeah? ya sure?” his voice dropped to a husky whisper, "we’ll see about that. we’ll see how long you’ll last with my cock inside this pussy. trust me, sugar . . . you'll enjoy it more than you ever thought possible. just like the slutty and naughty bunny you are.”
୨୧ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘
“now now, don’t cry," sunday soothed, his voice low and sultry. “we’ve got a lot of time tonight, sweetheart. maybe i’ll teach you a few lessons on how to suck on my cock properly . . you’re quite sloppy, my beloved.” sunday echoed, his monotone voice full of amusement as he leaned down, capturing your tearful gaze with his own. he gently lifted your chin, his thumb wiping away a stray crystal tear. his dick twitched in your throat when he kept his gaze on your teary eyed face . . fuck. he wanted to see more of that. “beloved . . .” he cooed, feeling the rush of pleasure course through his body as he thrust into your warm, wet throat . . his hand slowly wrapping itself around both your cute little rabbit ears, tugging you forward. he could feel you struggle, the way you gagged and choked on his length, it sent a thrill of excitement through him. your boyfriend gripped your ears tighter, guiding the movement as his thrusts grew eager.
“that’s it, angel, take it. take all of it.” sunday murmured, his voice hoarse with lust. at this point, he could feel his release building up, the tension coiling in his gut. “swallow it, choke on it, make it yours." the halovian male slammed into your poor little throat, knowing he owes you warm tea and breakfast the next morning! your moans were heavily muffled by his thick cock filling your throat. the mere sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, punctuated by sunday’s grunts and your whines, increasing the tears that spilled from your pretty eyes. the wave of ecstasy crashing over your boyfriend and you knew it. his orgasm hit him like a foreign train, flooding your throat with his essence . . . holding you in place by your bunny ears.
“mmh . . . that was good, my little angel." his hand traced over your cheek, “but we might have to work on your gag reflex.”
୨୧ 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎
SMACK! a loud sound reverberated around the room . . your fluffy white tail twitched in veritas’ hold. with a force of movement, he pulled you up . . . using your tail as a leverage as he chuckled, smacking your ass again . . . you could almost feel it warming up. “naughty bunny you are. you thought it was a good idea to send me erotic pictures?” veritas’ fingers worked on your skirt, pulling it up and off. he discarded it on the floor of your shared room, leaving you in your underwear. dr ratio couldn’t help but bite his lip at the sight of your tears streaming down your face, murmuring pleas for him to pound you. aeons . . . you were such a naughty bunny. the naughtiest bunny he’d ever come across. " . . . foolish girl. your desires have consequences," he growled, “you’re a naughty slut. it’s like you’re begging me to pound you when you cry like that . . .” he adjusted himself, positioning himself at your entrance.
he raised a brow, admiring your precious submission he yearned for. the sight of you pleading for more, bunny ears twitching, breasts bouncing invitingly, your sparkly-like eyes that produced tears, sent shivers down his spine. he leaned up, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. his tongue delved deep, tasting his bunny’s need and desire. dr ratio wanted to push you further, testing how far he could take you before breaking point. pulling away, his large hands found themselves on your ass again, running his hands along your flesh . . , raising it for another smack. “you’re insatiable, aren't you? let me remind you again, girl, bad bunnies get punished for being naughty. or have you forgotten that?”
୨୧ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄
your boyfriend’s eyes lit up at the sight of your pussy, glistening with desire. he loved every part of you, basking in the warmth of your body as he chuckled . . . reaching up to caress your little ears that he wouldn’t trade for anything else. “damn, you're soaked," he murmured, licking his lips. "i can't wait to taste you.” aventurine moved closer between your legs, pushing your thighs apart further with a smirk, flicking your bud with his thumb. “spread them wider for me, bunny." aventurine’s eyes widened as he saw how wet you were. he had to fight the urge to dive headfirst into your pussy. he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "you’re so ready for me, aren't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. with an eager nod, he slowly slipped his two fingers inside, filling you up pure lustrous intent. “m—more ‘turine . . .” a soft chuckle emitted from your boyfriend as he lowered his head, licking your inner thighs. "i know bunny, i know what i’m doing.” but yet, he wanted to hear you beg for it, to know that you desired him as much as he did you.
“c’mon baby . . . say this for me.” his tongue flicked against your outer lips, tasting your sweet nectar. "say . . “please, aven” . . .” he begged himself. "eat me out." his eyes fluttered open, narrowing dangerously . . . he couldn’t help but devour you with his gaze. “ . . please aven . . ‘w—want you to eat me out.” “that’s my good bunny.” aventurine’s tongue darted painfully slowly in and out of your pussy, teasing your walls. as he licked and sucked your clit, his fingers explored the depths inside your pussy, the gambler wanted to touch every inch of you, to know your body better than his own. he was determined to make you cum hard, just like he knew you'd make him. although in the back of his mind, he knew he had to fill out the paperwork that’s been due for days! but right now, all he cared about was making his cute bunny scream his name. he wanted to make you forget about everything else in the world in that dumb little head of yours except for him.
୨୧ 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑
you were so small against him. not only was he obsessed with your cute lil’ rabbit features, he was also obsessed with how cute and adorable you were against him, legs he had to restrain with his own hands due to you moving around too much . . . your cries echoed in the room, punctuating your passionate lovemaking. each groan fueled his dominance, reinforcing his love for you. gallagher gently placed his hand over the bulge on your belly, biting his lip at the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of your belly, grunting when he caught sight of your ears twitching. shit, you were adorable. “fuck, you’re fuckin’ tiny, baby, i could break you whenever i please if i wanted to.” his cock reached the deepest parts of your pussy in this position, knowing he wouldn’t last long with your legs pinned up against the mattress.
with a tug of your ears, gallagher savored the sound of your cries, your body folding under his weight . . your pussy taking his big dick so well heightened his arousal, driving him further into depravity. his thrusts grew more fervent, each one a declaration of love. “. . ‘m foldin’ you left and right, baby. see how good your pussy sucks it in?” with a growl, his hand gripped your ears lightly . . . sparking something primal within him. gallagher kissed you roughly like a starved man, bruising lips colliding fiercely with yours as his tongue invaded your mouth. the harsh mating press position made it harder for you to move around, trying to keep up with his harsh movements and thrusts at the same time! heavy breathing filled the room, punctuated by occasional cries of lust and pleasure. gallagher was taking what he wanted, his lil’ bunny girlfriend.
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© 6GUMI. please do not modify 、translate 、share my works on other platforms 、or consider them as yours.
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folkwhoredoll · 2 months
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mutual frustrations - rafe cameron x fem!reader
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
synopsis: keeping your temper and hormones in control is neither yours nor your boyfriend's strength
word count: 1.6k
warnings/tags: smut! (f masturbation, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism), slight dom!bf rafe
a/n: hi everyone! thank you so so much for everyone's support on my recent works. i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!
masterlist
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
"What the hell is your problem, huh?"
Rafe had been frustrated all day. His dad had been yelling at him since early morning, Barry wouldn't stop calling him, and a brief fight with his sister for running off with her Pogue friends had pushed him to the edge. It didn't help that you had been snappy all day, either. It started with your short and sarcastic replies to his questions, and he grew tired of seeing your eyes roll and your deep sighs.
Truth be told, you weren't doing it on purpose. You were just craving his attention, and your frustration over his frequent disappearances to whatever business he had to attend to was carelessly reflected through your actions.
"Seriously! Where did this attitude come from?" he said, raising his voice slightly but not yelling.
"Well, I wouldn't have a problem if you just noticed me, Rafe!" You grumbled.
"Are you fucking joking? I have literally been talking to you, but you were the one who refused to answer me properly!" Rafe seethed.
"Oh, please. The first time that you acknowledged my presence was an hour ago. I have been here since morning!" You defended yourself, remembering how you initially went over to his place to bond with each other, but he was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he walked past you several times without realizing it.
Rafe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "You know what? Whatever. I've had a long day and don't need any of this right now."
Your face was starting to feel hot as you felt your anger grow. Suddenly, his huge bedroom felt small as your chest tightened. "That's it? You're going to push me away again? What the fuck am I to you, Rafe? Do I even mean anything to you?"
"You're pulling this shit right now?" He growled, brows furrowing as he looked at you with darkened eyes. "If you mean nothing to me, I wouldn't even look at you."
Rafe started to walk closer to you slowly, cornering you until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. His face lowered to your level, with a threatening look on his face.
"But guess what, princess? Here I am, still tolerating your goddamn bratty attitude." He said lowly.
You could feel his radiating anger, making you gulp as you think of whether or not you should still say something as words die at the back of your throat. Despite your own displeasure, your boyfriend's dangerous face made you gulp. And unsurprisingly, you liked it. You liked it so much that Rafe did not miss your subtle attempt to push your thighs together.
He chuckled darkly. "So that's your problem then, hm? You're fucking horny."
You felt your breath hitch, mouth open, as you quickly thought of an excuse. As expected, you came up with nothing, leading Rafe to shake his head in amusement.
"You could've just told me, baby. I'd drop anything to make you feel good." Upon hearing his words, your eyes lit up hopefully. You started to feel excited until Rafe walked beside you to sit on the bed, harshly pulling you towards him so you were entirely situated on his lap. "But you decided to act like a fucking brat instead, and I can't have that, can I?"
Your boyfriend hastily grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your face towards his to kiss you roughly before you could react. Rafe kissed you with passion, forcefully separating your lips with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, hips starting to grind against clothed crotch.
Unbeknownst to you, he was already plotting what he could do to punish you. And you only realized that after you felt his lips travel to your neck.
"More, Rafe. Please fuck me." You gasped upon feeling him slightly bite your skin.
"No." He replied bluntly, pulling away to meet your gaze with a smirk. "You really think I'm gonna fuck you after what you did?"
"W-what?" You asked, visibly confused.
"Oh, baby. You should've seen your punishment coming." He taunted, shifting your positions so that he was standing again and you were lying on the bed. "You won't be getting my dick tonight. If you wanna come, do it yourself."
Your mouth was open in shock as you processed his words, frustration building up again. "Are you kidding me? Fuck me."
"You're in no position to order me, darling. Make yourself come right now, or I'll extend your punishment for a week. We both know you can't go that long without my dick."
If you weren't horny, you would have slapped Rafe's smirk off of his face. But you were desperate; your hormones heightened after making out with him. You groaned, tilting your head back, figuring that making yourself cum without his cock is much better than not being able to cum at all.
"Go on, baby. Take off your clothes; I wanna watch."
Grunting, you briefly sat up to remove your clothes individually as Rafe stepped back to watch you. You kept eye contact with him as you took off your bra and underwear, smirking when you saw his eyes hungrily scan your hardening nipples down to your inner thighs.
 "You can touch me, Rafey." You attempted to persuade him with a sweet smile, but he knew better.
"Nice try, sweetheart. But you should know by now that that won't work for me. Now lay back and spread those legs."
You followed his instruction, positioning yourself so that you're laterally positioned on his bed. Rafe moved to his small couch across the room, observing your movements like a hawk.
"Like this?" You teased him, lifting your leg and spreading your thighs apart, giving him a perfect view of your plump breasts and wet slit.
Rafe could feel his cock growing harder and harder with each second. He wanted nothing more than to ruin you at that moment, your pussy tempting him to cum inside. But he prevented himself, knowing he had to let you know who was in control.
"Mhm. Now play with your tits. Don't stop until your nipples are hard." He said, watching as you slowly moved your hands up to massage your breasts. You moaned with each stroke, your thumb toying specifically with your nipples until they perk. "Good job, baby. Now remove one hand and touch your pussy. Don't insert a finger yet."
You followed again, one hand trailing down to your stomach until your fingertips touched your outer walls. You gasped loudly, turned on from your own wetness. "Rafey."
Rafe savored your moans, eyes not leaving your womanhood. "Spread your walls for me. I want to see that pretty cunt."
You obeyed, letting out a deep breath as you used two fingers to separate your walls, giving Rafe a fantastic view of your delicious cunt. "Want to come, Rafe? Please."
"You will. Just be patient, alright?" He cooed. "Insert one of your fingers."
You slowly push one finger into your pussy, having no difficulty in doing so because you're too soaked.
"Add another one. Go on, sweetheart. You know your spot." Rafe urged you, proud that you were doing so well for him. "Curl your fingers in. That's it."
"Fuck!" You screamed in sudden pleasure, letting Rafe know that you were able to find your G-spot. "Wish this were your fingers."
"I know, baby. I do, too, but you need to learn your lesson. Now make yourself come."
You whined upon hearing his words, pumping your fingers faster while continuing to massage your breasts. You were becoming desperate for a release, and Rafe's hungry smirk gave you enough motivation. If you couldn't have his dick, you would at least give him a proper show.
You were a moaning mess in front of him, and he loved every moment of it. Your continuous mumbles of his name increased his ego, knowing that you would never be able to satisfy yourself like he does.
The sound of your wetness as you fingered yourself was like music to his ears. And before he could think about what he was doing, he found himself in front of you, absentmindedly reaching forward to place his thumb on your clit.
"Oh!" You screamed upon contact, your hips slightly rising. Rafe couldn't avert his eyes from your pussy. He groaned at the sight of both of your fingers playing with your cunt, your walls visibly pulsating as you chased your own release.
"That's it. Be a good girl and come on my fingers."
"Yes, yes, yes." The exact words left your mouth as you felt your mind go blank, overwhelmed with nothing but pleasure. You continued to fuck yourself as Rafe toyed with your clit faster. "Fuck, Rafe. I'm going to cum."
"Go ahead, pretty girl. Give it to me." Rafe's cock was aching so much, and he felt like he was about to lose control. And he knew he did, when his mouth let out his most wanted thought. "Come for me. Come for me, and I'll give you my dick."
Hearing those words made something snap in you, making you release in an instant. You squirted around your fingers as he remained touching your clit, your thighs shaking from the orgasm that was taking over your body.
Rafe grunted at the scene. "Good job." He softly grabbed your fingers away from your pussy before wiping the sweat off of your forehead. "You did good, baby."
You were still catching your breath when you felt him kiss your forehead softly.
"Now I believe I owe you my cock?"
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ozzgin · 8 months
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Pyramid Head x Reader
Featuring Pyramid Head and a reader with amnesia lost in Silent Hill. This is Pyramid Head as originally intended for Silent Hill 2, so expect a lot of game-based immersion. Warning: NSFW, dubious/non-consent, violence, gore
[Horror Masterlist]
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"Oh, for fuck's sake!"
You grunt and slap the wheel, hoping your defiant act of violence will somehow convince the car engine to start again. It remains quiet. You run a hand through your hair and sigh. The palm is mildly sticky with moisture and you realize you've been sweating a fair amount. No wonder, you're stuck in this shithole. You couldn't see a damn thing ahead with all this fog. The only discernible object was a rusty, run-down sign showing "Silent Hill". You've never heard the name before, but reading the letters and allowing the words to escape your lips has brought you an unexpected wave of panic. You quickly began hyperventilating and your arms involuntarily twitched and twisted, pulling the wheel of the car along with them and causing the car to swerve into a street barrier. And now it refuses to turn back on. Fantastic. 
You hesitantly grab the door handle. After a deep breath in, you open the door and step out. Given the car crashed sideways, you can no longer tell which way is back and which way is forward. You can only see the first few inches of the barrier in both directions, but everything else vanishes under the thick clouds of mist. You rub your temples, becoming increasingly upset with yourself.  What were you even doing, driving all the way to-
Wait. Where were you going in the first place? You recall leaving from...home? But where is that supposed to be? No, don't do this. Not now. You walk back to the car and open the glove compartment, angrily pulling out a thick stack of documents and spreading them out onto the chair. You scan over them, growing more impatient. You don't recognize anything. The names and words and addresses don't hold any meaning. You glance up to the rear-view mirror in an attempt to detect some trail of blood seeping from your scalp, as a concussion might explain your sudden memory loss, but your appearance is fresh. Almost as if you didn't just crash your car in a strange place in utter confusion. 
You check your phone. Even if you can't remember, there has to be someone in your contacts that will come to your aid. The screen glitches briefly when you unlock it and the menu is empty. No contacts, no messages, no apps. No matter, emergency will do. You type in the digits and lift the phone to your head, but quickly remove it when loud static assaults your eardrums. Why is nothing working properly? You're tempted to just slam the junk into the pavement, but find enough composure to stuff it back in the pocket for now. 
All that's left to do now is to find another human. You begin walking. The road has to lead somewhere, that's for certain. And soon enough the barrier is replaced with a different kind of fencing that you use as guidance. It seems to be a small bridge. Just a few steps further and you discover the first signs of modern, populated world: a bus stop. Behind the waiting bench is a brief map of the area and you trace the plaque with your fingers, mumbling the path to yourself. "Now let's see...This is Nathan Avenue...Rosewater Park ahead...Ah, the Silent Hill Fire Station should be very close."
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You can't wait to be done with this mess. They'll call for a tow truck and get you out of here. You almost sprint to the next block, expectantly. In fact, you can already spot someone right outside the building. 
"Thank God! Listen, my car broke down before the bridge. My stupid phone is also...huh." 
Just as you mention it, the same static as previously erupts from the speaker. You're startled and fumble for your phone. You're about to apologize to the person in front of you, but upon lifting your gaze you instantly stop in your tracks. 
'Person' is a strong word for it. It resembles one, or maybe it was one long ago. What's crawling towards you, however, is not how you'd define it. The arms are melted into the torso, mimicking a straight jacket of skin. The bony, crooked legs are dragging themselves in an unnatural, unnerving way. The creature has no face, save for a gaping hole, a bizarre cavity deforming what should be a head. Your mouth grimaces with disgust, followed by fear. Terror. You have the choice of returning to your damaged car, or attempting to find actual help deeper into the town. You run ahead, praying that someone's out there. The dissonant sound of a siren can be heard, diffused into the persistent fog.  
By the time you reach the next building, you're gasping for air. You didn't expect to run this far. You went all the way around Toluca lake, avoiding the side streets. The center was swarming with those abominations. Each turn and each corner would eventually reveal its revolting murmur, that pathetic shuffle of disfigured limbs. Thankfully they're not fast, nor smart. A little distance and they lose their interest to pursue you. You fall against the brick wall of this small house and read the poster. "Silent Hill Historical Society". Doesn't look too promising, but it's surprisingly devoid of any monstrous being. At this point you'd be more grateful for emptiness. It's safer. 
You tiptoe your way in, wary of potential attackers. There's a faint buzz echoing from afar, but other than that no immediate danger. You examine the lobby and notice the paintings and old photos hanging from the decaying wallpaper. It smells slightly rotten. One of the art pieces catches your attention and you stop in front of it. "Misty Day, Remains of Judgement". 
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The abstract character depicted on canvas reminds you of an executioner. The more you stare, the clearer you can feel some kind of guilt knotting inside your stomach. Your shoulders are heavy and you're overwhelmed by the same anxiety of a child about to be punished. Awaiting the belt. The calloused hand of an unforgiving father. Your throat is dry.
Your musings are interrupted by the static that - as you've since learned - warns you of approaching creatures. The rooms are cramped and the walls are narrow and you dislike the idea of calculating your escape within this claustrophobic maze, but it's preferable to being dead. You jog along slithering paths, unsure of where they lead. The threatening turbulence of your phone goes up and down, like a sine wave, with each turn into uncharted territory. In your frantic efforts to flee you don't see the large hole blocking your way, or at least not fast enough. By the time you figure out the outlines of this pitch black well, you're flooded with the light sensation of gravitational force, stretching and compressing your innards as you fall. Is this how you end?
It's not so easy. 
As soon as you open your eyes, a burning pain metastasizes through the head, digging deep into your brain. You grab onto your scalp and press your fingers over the skin, hoping for a small relief. In your debilitating migraine you don't hear the agitated flutter of limbs. They're minuscule, but so many. Thousands of sclerotized joints frothing around your limp form. You lift yourself off the rusted ground and yelp voiceless at the sight. Cockroaches. The pile of vermin lets out a deafening, high pitched screech with every movement. You drag your elbows in an attempt to get away, but the creepers almost ignore your existence. They seem to be running away from something, retreating in masses.
You don't have to wait long in order to witness their source of fear. Heavy footsteps, muffled by the grating friction of metal against metal. A corroded stench invades your lungs and you cough. Whatever is coming has instilled the utmost dread in your very bones. You want to get up and run, until your legs give up and your body collapses of exhaustion, but your limbs are petrified in panic. Your chest constricts and throbs, as if your heart is trashing to escape this prison condemned to unknown doom. 
Finally, the fiend comes into view. A tall, large man wearing a leather apron layered with grime and encrusted blood. His skin is scarred and discolored, and a bulky, dense pyramid structure rests on his broad shoulders, concealing his face. He seems to be dragging along a great knife of sorts, although on closer inspection it looks like a halved pair of oversized scissors. The edge is dulled and has splattered visceral leftovers mattifying its surface. You remember the painting you've seen upstairs. Is this what it is? Your Retribution? 
You lower yourself until your forehead touches the rusty floor. Like an animal awaiting to receive the final blow from its hunter, like a prisoner resigning to his fate under the guillotine. If only matters could be dealt with so simply! Your neck is clawed into a tight hold by the large gloved hand and you're crudely pulled back up so that you can properly face your Punisher. There's a vague grunt coming from underneath his bizarre helmet. 
He carries you to the nearest wall and slams you against it. The great knife drops to the floor with a loud crash, and the other hand, now freed, begins to search your lower clothing. You can feel the seams of the garments tear and snap with no resistance. You want to vocalize a protest, but your throat is crushed under the forceful pressure of his clasp. At best, you can exhale in what sounds like a whispered wail. His apron is nonchalantly flipped to the side and your thigh lifted over his forearm, so that his hand can adjust itself securely under your bottom for support.
Abruptly, a prickling ache crosses your entire body as if you've just been split in two. Tears automatically begin forming in the corner of your eyes and spill down your cheeks and over the pyramid that's now pressing tightly against your quivering form. It's too big and you want to push away, but with each renewed plunge you grow weaker. The small tears and rips that blossom around your abused intimacy turn into bleeding wounds. You want to sleep. 
A creature of pure instinct, serving as a reminder of human perversions and immoral desires. Travesty, corruption, sin. And what about it? Before you know it, a small moan escapes your dried lips. You throw your arms around your captor's shoulders. The sharp edges of the helmet scratch your skin, waking you back into consciousness. Your lower muscles start to relax around the massive member and allow for a smoother glide in and out. The numbness is gradually replaced by pleasant sensations. The throbbing reverberates inside your abdomen and your other leg wraps around the creature's hips, asking for more contact. Once your compliance is confirmed, the hand pinning you by the neck wanders to other parts of your body in starved desperation. Your voice returns and more lewd whines roll out one after another. If only you had a mirror so you could look at yourself in this moment. What shameless expressions are you wearing on your face? You're clinging to your violator in feverish depravity. And in return, the creature responds to your cravings with increased intensity. He seems to resonate with your wishes and stiffens his hold on you with newfound obsession. His thrusts become almost feral, with a certain possessiveness to it. 
As you're about to reach your peaks, your mind once again travels to the painting. You wonder if you'd be hung and framed just like the prisoners behind their executioner. Pleasure mixed with guilt. 
What sin is eroding your entrails? 
2K notes · View notes
emomanswhore · 2 years
Note
I feel like... if you call ghost daddy in bed he'll go crazy
ghost with a daddy kink ? oh yeah… he definitely eats it up, when his prettiest princess calls him daddy in bed. <33
—❤︎︎ — DADDY’S HOME . . . ❞
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SIMON GHOST RILEY X FEM!READER
✵. !! WC : 3.7k
✵. !! TAGS & CW : explicit content! (18+ mdni) - service/softdom!ghost (he’s a lil bit mean), cunnilingus, daddy kink, size kink/difference, praise/petname usage, subtle spit kink, squirting, thigh slapping, overstimulation, dumbification, pussydrunk!ghost (hes in LOVE with your pussy), orgasm denial, fingering, the mask stays ON.
✵. !! A/N : hihi babies ! just a lil treat for y’all and thank you for 700+ follows and all the love you’ve given for simon says ♡!! hope you enjoy this mini fic, lmk how we feeling about it !! <33 ps… i folded. im sat. i actually wanna call this man daddy so bad. 🧎‍♀️
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In your mind, there was one word— one forsaken word that you refused to utter. A word that only the most sexually deprived would use.
A person with their morals in check, should never attempt to sexualize something that is meant as an innocent title and name. Usually reserved for an actual father, or someone fulfilling the role of a male caregiver.
Right.
A person with their morals in check.
Right. You totally weren’t projecting… and deeply shaming your own innermost yearning, to desperately call your boyfriend ‘daddy’ while he fucked you.
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It definitely wasn’t a thing you could say you were proud to admit outloud. Nope, you would quite frankly rather be caught dead than have your questionable cravings exposed to the world.
But every single day, you swore to god that your boyfriend tried to purposely provoke you into using the absolutely forbidden word.
Simon always took care of you. Whether that’d be making sure you got to work safely, cooking you meals on days that you were too tired to be bothered, or even texting you throughout the day to make sure you were resting properly.
You know. You know that’s probably the absolute bare minimum, and what a boyfriend is supposed to do for you in a serious relationship. But you just couldn’t help that ache and flutter you got in your heart, that made you so weak for him.
He worked so hard every single day, busy and moving nonstop on less than four hours of full rest. Even when he had his most stressful and agonizingly long days at work, he still tried to reach out to you. It could be a single worded text message or a phone call that only lasted for five minutes.
No matter what or without question, Simon will do his absolute best to tend to you. It was truly unconditional love, devotion, and his unspoken rule to give you whatever you most desired.
And you feel sick— sick in the head for letting your insatiable lust take over your sense of morality. Putting his mostly wholesome catering ways, in the same category as what you needed to relieve that scorching, sore pounding in your core.
That was alright though, you could live off your little fantasies and scenarios you created in your mind. Always making yourself dizzy and soft headed, imagining a world where he would make love to you and refer to himself as ‘daddy’.
It would suit him so well. Your hulk of a man, who had to put a slight bend in his knees whenever he came through the doors of your home. His mellow, husky voice always gently rasping to you— almost never, ever raising it higher than an octave at you. The way he could spoil you absolutely rotten, only ever calling you by his own little terms of endearment.
Always putting you first when he fucked you. Even in times when it got rough or you two were experimenting with things on the more intense side, you always came first. Literally and physically, since Simon couldn't properly get off himself, without knowing you were completely satisfied.
Your aftercare would consist of cuddling, he’d coo the sweetest of praises as he handled your sore limbs.
“My sweet girl, look at how pretty she is. Did such a good job today, angel. I know baby, I'll take good care of you now. Such a pretty girl, aren't you?”
It’s perfectly fine.
You could keep all those things about him to yourself. Just let your brain work its magic, to create fantasies and fill the deep void of your scorching carnality. You always subconsciously needed that one little thing to make yourself come even harder. But you were a good, grateful girl for him and always let Simon know how well he treated your body.
It’s perfectly fine. You don’t need a daddy kink in your life, to make yourself feel better. You were so much better than that, and you’d never let Simon get the idea that you were some ill, perverted deviant.
It was all fine.
Until today, when he finally pulls the most forbidden word out your mouth— and satiates the bubbling, hot desire that has a heavy chokehold on your heart and soul.
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You don’t know how things escalated so fast.
One minute, you get his text that he’s on his way home and he’ll see you soon.
Out of pure joy and excitement to finally see him again after three weeks, you start to get yourself ready for the evening by taking an extra long shower. Making sure you’ve lathered and exfoliated every inch of your body in vanilla scented body polish, with a hint of brown sugar and cocoa butter. It was always Simon’s favorite scent on you, and he’d seemed more clingy than usual whenever your sweet aroma hit his nose.
The next hour, you throw on a simple, yet cheeky little lingerie set.
A delicate floral embroidered baby blue bra, with its matching mini stringed thong panty. You couldn’t help but fall in love with it at first sight. The design is a lovely work of art, the milky color enhancing the glow of your soft skin— yet it’s so scandalous on your body.
You did purposely get a smaller size, but on top of that it was made of see through mesh material. Not a single doubt in your mind that if he looked close enough, Simon could make out the shape of your nipples through the bra. And between your legs? The outline of your folds were perfectly clear and transparent against the light color of your panties.
After spending another minute admiring yourself in the bathroom mirror and taking a few selfies of your enticing form, you slip on a fluffy cream colored robe and head to the kitchen. You wanted to get something in your stomach before Simon came home, so you decided to lightly snack on a slice of pomegranate fruit.
You don’t even make it to the fridge before you hear the sharp clicking of keys turning a door knob, and feel the cold gust of wind that comes with the front door being swung open.
A gasp and squeal flies out your mouth as you bounce up and down on your toes, the actual sight of your boyfriend trudging in through the doorway makes your heart swell and pound in your chest.
“Baby!” You practically skip on your feet towards him, unable to hide your excitement of his abrupt appearance, as he starts taking quick strides to meet you halfway.
You think with how fast Simon approaches towards you, and him not even bothering to take off his shoes at the front door, he must’ve been just as excited to see you.
When you two finally meet each other in the middle of the hallway, you give him a big, dazzling smile as you go to lean in to hug him.
Before you can get your arms around him, he places a large hand on the small of your back and pulls you in close to his chest. You gape up at him, your smile slowly melting down to a look of pure confusion. Knees already feeling wobbly at his close proximity, and the way he has to tilt his head down to look you in the eyes.
Your breath hitches in your throat, when he slowly drags his open palm up along the cotton material of your robe. Even through its thickness, you can feel the heat radiating off his hand that follows along the curve of your back. Sending tingles down your spine, when his hand eventually makes its way up to the soft nape of your neck.
You both stare at each other. Your eyes become hazy and unfocused, while his dark ones scan over your perfect little form. You hear him pull in a deep breath of air through his nose. Holding it in his chest for five seconds before letting it back out, while he drags his eyes up back onto yours.
“Been thinkin’ about you all day long, y’know that?” He mutters these words, yet somehow they’re loud enough to ring and echo in your eardrums. You pull your lips in your mouth, feeling your core thump in tune with the pitter patter of your heartbeat.
You practically whimper out loud, as he continues onto his sentence,
“ ‘S about time I came home. Think it’s only right to show my princess how much I really missed her, wouldn’t you agree, pretty baby ?”
That was the only warning you were given… for what your boyfriend truly had planned for you, once he finally got his hands on you. Everything after that moment, truly did escalate as if time were being fasted forward.
You knew he missed you. Without him vocally telling you how much he thought of you, his actions spoke much louder than his words.
He was so sloppy.
From the way he practically rips your robe off your trembling body, to pushing you down onto your shared mattress and diving face first into the warm heat of your clothed pussy.
He was truly like a dog in heat. Not even bothering to take his mask off completely from his head, and only lifts it enough to show you his parting lips as he comes face to face with the growing patch of wetness sticking in your panties.
“Look at my pretty lil’ lady,” he coos softly, hooking his thumb into the side of your soiled panties and pulling them to the side to expose your glistening cunt to his heavy eyes. “Missed me, haven’t you? Can’t imagine how tight ‘n upset you are, since I haven’t been givin’ you proper treatment lately.”
It always blew your mind when Simon literally talked to your pussy.
Speaking in soft murmurs and giving it the same delicate pet names that he gave you, the owner of it. As dumb as it probably sounded, you sometimes couldn’t help but feel that ugly swirl of jealousy when he practically treated it like it was an entire living and breathing person.
You don’t have time to mull over your childish feelings, letting out a squeak when he grabs both of your thighs and presses them back until your knees squish against your chest.
“Know you’re mad at me, little one” Another squeak sounds out your throat, as you feel him turn his head to the side of your thigh and he lets his teeth sink into the doughy flesh of your skin. He hums, sucking on the flesh before letting it go and pressing a soft kiss to the flaming bruise he leaves behind. “Gonna show you how much I’ve missed splittin’ you open on my tongue.”
He follows through with his words, putting his full attention back onto your pussy. Using his index and middle fingers to pry open the thick lips of your cunt, groaning when he sees your hole twitching and spasming over nothing. The scent of your nectar coating your thighs and leaking out your pussy, makes him feel even more high and drunk off your arousal.
You’re so messy already. And like the gentleman that he was, Simon always took the initiative to help clean up messes that you made.
Still keeping his fingers spread enough to keep your lips parted, he lolls his thick tongue out before swiping it on your slit. You mewl and flinch at the feeling of his warm tongue, but he grips the side of your thighs to keep you still. Simon continues licking up and down your cunt. Maintaining the same pattern of stroking his strong tongue, as if he were savoring a frozen delicacy that helplessly dripped down the side of its waffle cone.
Once he feels like he’s collected enough of your cum on his tongue, he pulls his tongue back into his mouth to let the taste of you sit heavy on his taste-buds.
Your toes curl and you let out a soft gasp, as you watch him hollow his cheeks, before he lets the sinful mixture of your cum and his spit fall right back into your twitching hole. Chuckling to himself as he watches the way his greedy girl swallows up the little treat he gave her.
“Taste so fuckin’ good, princess” This time he does actually talk to you, dragging his eyes up from your drenched pussy and onto your blearing, glossy ones.
“Always so good for me. Could eat you up every single day ‘n never get tired of it. Can’t believe I went so long without this, fuck.”
Simon starts to probe his tongue along your core, tracing the shape of it until he finally pushes inside you. Already feeling the tight caverns of your pussy ease up, and welcome the thickness of his tongue rubbing up against your gushing walls.
“S-Sim— oohhh,” You throw your head back, unable to finish your squealing when he pulls his tongue completely out of you, and decides to inflict his torture upon your little clit. First he flicks the tip of his tongue over it, then he lets his mouth completely envelop around your pearl. Pumping it a few times between his lips, before pulling off to run his tongue over the expanse of your pussy.
You weren’t going to last.
You were far too sensitive after not having him around to please you for three entire weeks. All you could do was sob and let it happen, letting out a cry before you feel a fat watery gush of cum shoot out your hole. Simon pays it absolutely no mind, only widening his mouth to catch every little drop you gifted him.
“That’s it. Such a sweetheart, you’re already spoiling me ‘n givin’ me a lil’ treat. ,” He feels the way your body starts to relax, already going into its state of after pleasure— but he isn't done. Far from done, actually. Hasn’t even been half of an hour yet, and your legs start shaking like a leaf in the wind.
“Ah, Ah,” Simon tuts, slapping his palm hard on your soaked inner thigh, making you jolt and buck your hips up. “C’mon baby, couldn’t have thought I was done with you. ‘S only been a few minutes, ‘n you’re tapping out already? Thought my baby missed me, hm?”
It hasn’t only been a few minutes. Even in your dazed and dizzy mind, you knew that he’d been feasting on your pussy for well over twenty minutes. You shake your head, bottom lip wobbling as you let out a soft sob.
“I di-did miss you, baby” You sniffle wetly, feeling him trace his thick fingers along your soaking heat. Shaking your head in protest as he slips in his middle and ring fingers, humming while you babble to him. “But I can’t ta— aaahh, t-take it anymore. ‘S too much, baby. No more.”
“Too much?” He starts to flex his fingers deep inside of you, curling them in slow motions to stimulate your special gummy spot, that has you sobbing hysterically.
“You haven’t had your fill yet, sweet girl. I can feel it. Y’see this?” Simon tries to retract his fingers from your cunt, but your walls instantly clamp down on him. “You’re not lettin’ me out. My little lady down here knows exactly what she wants. So c’mon princess, lay still ‘n let me spoil this pretty pussy rotten.”
Having absolutely zero regard for your whines and sobs, he continues his previous abuse on your poor little pussy.
Seconds, minutes, hours, decades— You can't even tell how long he stays between your thighs.
Simon uses both strong hands to keep your legs steady and trap you from squirming or running away. You can take it. You will take it. He knows how much you need this, humming at every broken little sob and wanton moan that comes screeching out your throat.
Your vision starts to blur while you stare up at the spinning ceiling. Saliva pooling in your mouth and making a puddle next to your temples, as you let it run down the side of your lips.
You’re going crazy.
So high off the overstimulation of his face buried deep in your leaking pussy, that you swear…. you swear, you can feel your brain getting mushy. So mushy that if you shook your head hard enough, it could probably come spilling out through your ears.
He’s speaking into your pussy, saying words and mumbling something out loud. But you can’t hear it. All you can hear is your heartbeat pulsing in your throat, and feel the way he shakes his face side to side, while his tongue is plugged in your cunt.
Feel the way his hands grip your thighs so tight, that the blunt tip of his nails dig deep into your skin. You can already imagine the bruising and crescent little puncture marks it’ll leave on your legs.
It’s all so sloppy. Your pleas and cries for mercy, getting lost in the little squeals of ‘yes!’ and ‘simon!’ you can’t help but let out. And he eats it up, kissing your heated pelvis while burying three fingers inside of you.
“There’s my good girl, y’sound so pretty” He goes back to focusing his attention on your sore clit, giving it an open mouthed kiss before he continues speaking to you.
“Wanna hear my girl tell me who’s making her feel good. Hm? Lemme hear it. Say who it is, that can make you sing your little heart out.”
You make some unintelligible garbles, and Simon chuckles at your quivering and hiccuping. He squeezes your thighs encouragingly and smacks the side of them twice.
“Big words, baby. You’re a big girl, so tell me… who’s making you feel good right now?”
“It’s…” You swallow thickly and sniffle, slowly losing your train of thought as he suctions his lips around your swollen pearl. “It’s— ohhh, ‘mmm my goddd. It’s you…”
You start to gather some of your discombobulated brain cells to form a complete sentence. Simon’s name sits on your tongue, and you’re ready to tell him, it’s him. Simon. It’s Simon.
Until he pulls his head back with your clit between his lips— taking it with him, and letting it go with a loud pop!
It’s not Simon.
“Oooohhh g-god. It’s you! ‘Mmmy goodddd… daddy, it’s you… it’s all you, daddy.”
He pauses.
Whipping his head up to see if he really just heard what he believes you just cried out. Tapping the side of your thigh, he tries to get your attention so you can focus on his voice.
“What was that, honey? Didn’t hear you, come back to me and say it again.”
You whimper and hiccup, tears run down the side of your face and you continue whining at him.
“ ‘S you, daddy. Need you so badly, pleasseee baby. ‘M-m so close. I need it.”
Unbelievable.
He lets go of your trembling thighs. Letting the weight of his body help keep them pressed against your chest, as he crawls from up below your stomach and hovers over your face. Simon’s face is covered in your arousal. His lips glisten, and a good portion of the mask is damp and sticks to his skin.
“One more time, honey. Y’said it’s ‘daddy’ ? Hm? It’s your daddy, that’s taking good care of this pretty pussy?”
Simon’s fingers trail back down between your legs, softly shushing you as you keen at the feeling of his digits sliding back inside of you. He stares down at you, practically seeing the little stars spinning in your eyes. You weren’t in your best state of mind right now, but he’ll be damned if you tried denying that word escaping out with your cries.
“Can’t come ‘till you let me know,” You give him big, sad eyes but he shakes his head at you. “Wanna come, right? Tell. Me. Say it again, _____.”
At the use of your real, full name you quickly snap back into reality. It was like a switch, your bubbly headspace falling apart and bursting open once he rasped your name.
You did it. You really did call him daddy. It was your most taboo, and forbidden word—
But fuck it.
Today, your daddy was finally home. And you needed him to take care of you, just like he always did.
“Daddy,” you mewl out, feeling another hot sensation shooting through your spine. It was coming. You were so close. “Daddy I n-need you. ‘S you Simon, so please, pleaasee let me cum.”
His nostrils flare before he’s smacking his lips down on yours. Licking inside of your mouth, and inhaling the little moans you let out from tasting yourself on his tongue.
“Not yet, pretty little baby. Daddy hasn’t had all his fun yet.” Simon pulls away from your lips for a moment, laughing softly at the way you try to chase after his mouth for more. He uses one hand to swiftly fumble with the buckle of his belt, making quick work of pulling down his cargo pants and boxers. Laughing again when he pulls his drenched fingers out your greedy little hole, that puts up a fight to keep him deep inside your cunt.
“Must’a been treating my lil’ lady real good,” You can feel the heat of his hard, thick cock pressing onto your pelvis. Already licking your lips and grabbing onto his flexing bicep for support. “Gotta keep showing my special girls how much their daddy loves ‘em.”
He uses a free hand to guide his length to your throbbing pussy, unable to help himself from slapping the head a few times against you. His cock makes a squishy plop plop when he makes contact with your sticky folds, and teases you with a rub on your raw, swollen clit.
“Want you to remember this, once I’m done with you.”
Simon feels your nails dig into the hard meat of his bicep, bracing yourself when he finally lets the head of his cock greet your warm, welcoming insides. Already feeling the way your pussy grips around him, and makes no plans of ever letting go.
“Want you to remember what’ll happen every single time, that daddy comes home to his pretty, little princess.”
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✪-tagging-✪ / : @touyyes @winterbimbwo @sirenh4ll @sailewhoremoon @noriken @kokobunn @fushisslut @dilftaroooo @aasouthteranoswife @daeneeryss @simon-rileys-princess @g4bby @sussywowzaee @lazuli-leenabride @moonshot-eclipse @mietkoz @honeybee54321 @lich1 @terrythetortoise @fuckinriley @actuallyanita @wedonttalkabouthenry @motionlessinrhi @hauntingtherosebush @spookyclowwn
(couldn’t tag y’all </3 ily tho) @benandjerrysisqueer @bleedingmagic-02 @tescomealdeals-blog @getoruii @alyssam14 @officialjotchuagirlfanclub
9K notes · View notes
risuola · 5 months
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INFINITY — F. READER x GOJO SATORU
When was the last time you slept? You couldn't tell, but Satoru was determined to get you to rest.
cw: slightly angsty if you squint, just idiots in love unable to communicate properly, death mentioned (the usual jjk content) — 1,3k words
a/n: i'm going through my wips, finishing them finally and posting, don't mind me ❥
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“When was the last time you slept?”
Satoru’s soft voice entered your mind and brought it back to reality. You were exhausted, having no sleep for few days already. Your eyes felt heavy, your mind was foggy and as you tried to push through the fatigue, you struggled to concentrate on even the simplest tasks. Everything felt like it’s taking twice as much effort as usual and more and more often you were catching yourself at making silly mistakes that you wouldn’t normally do. It was probably the fact you were standing at the little kitchen unit in the hotel room you share with Gojo for the mission, and the cup you were trying to fill with water overflown already.
“Shit,” you cussed quietly, putting down the kettle and grabbing the roll of paper towels, knocking a bottle while you reached next to it. Of course it was open and another portion of liquid spilled all over the counter and the floor.
“Hey, whoa, I’ll deal with it,” the strongest was quick to take everything from your hands, smiling in amusement at the soft groan that escaped your mouth. “So? When did you sleep last time?”
“I don’t remember,” you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose. The job you had been assigned was taking everything from you and it wasn’t because it was hard. It really wasn’t much above the ordinary and your partner turns every task into a child’s play, but it was the unpredictability of the curses you were targeting that made you go without sleep for a week already. You had at most four hours of rest, broken into short naps when you just passed out and now, you were awake for 43 hours straight. It was taking a toll on your mind and body, the fatigue was like a weight on your shoulders, making your movements sluggish and your thoughts slow.
You sighed, rubbing your eyes aggressively, a desperate attempt to wipe away the foggy haze from your sight. It’s been some time since you don’t see clearly anymore, your brain was pulling tricks on you and though you couldn’t blame it for that, you also wished it to keep up for just a little longer
“Go to sleep,” Gojo told you, wiping away the water that you spilled all over the kitchen area. “I’ll deal with anything that might pop up,” he reassured, though his tone was everything but caring. He was teasing you, his playful nature and smugness fronting in his behavior as always. He wasn’t bothered by the mission, he was doing his job flawlessly and frankly, you were sent with him only to make sure people around are safe because Satoru has a habit of not caring too much about casualties.
“You know I can’t do that,” a groan from you only made the man chuckle. You were in the middle of war – it felt like it, at least – there was a plague of curses, most of them reaching first grade, day after day appearing in bigger quantities and it was straight up way too dangerous to let yourself to drift away. Last time you managed to close your eyes for a little longer than an hour, one of the demons broke into the hotel you were staying in and nearly killed you. It seemed like they were just waiting for the right moment to attack, when your guard is down and you’re vulnerable and you knew that once you fall asleep, you’re not going to wake up on time. Even if Gojo was volunteering to fight, you were convinced the moment he’d step away from you, you’d be dead. And that was the last position on your wishlist.
“I told you I’ll take care of the curses while you’re sleeping, don’t be so dense,” the strongest just shrugged, seemingly unbothered but the grin was ghosting over his lips, making you wish you could wipe it off his stupid handsome face. While you were suffering, Satoru was sleeping just fine, not caring about a thing because he didn’t need to care about being in danger when he always had a nice, protective layer of damn infinity around himself. The world could be burning and not a single spark would reach his sleeping form. Rest was a luxury he was able to afford during this mission and sadly, you couldn’t because once you’re not awake and ready to protect yourself, you’ll be swiped off the board.
“Why would you even bother, huh?” You snapped, not sparing him a look while you approached the window. The streets seemed oddly calm, now as dark as the sky above them, and you wished it would stay normal for the next hours so you would have one less thing to deal with during the night time.
Truth is, the very fact of sharing a job with Gojo is a curse in itself, one impossible to exorcise and it was taking every bit of professionalism that you had in you to just push through it. Your relation with the honored one is difficult. It’s complicated and straight up unpleasant, it seemed like you were stuck in an endless cycle of bickering. Every conversation seemed to turn into an argument, and every disagreement seemed to escalate into a full-blown fight. It was exhausting, emotionally and mentally, it was straining but no matter how many times you tried, you couldn’t manage to break the pattern and instead, you just kept going around in circles. The words you spoke to each other were getting increasingly cutting and the anger was growing with each passing day. Even when you did manage to reach a solution, it was always a matter of time before another conflict would arise and you’d be back to square one. It was as if you were trapped in a maze, with no clear path to a peaceful co-existence and that was enough reason for you to be convinced that Gojo would be the last person on earth worrying about your well-being.
“I don’t want you to die on me because of the lack of sleep, come one,” he shrugged, throwing away the wet paper towels and joining you near the window. “Rest, I’ll stay awake.”
“I’ll get myself a coffee,” you said, not convinced at all. Truth is, only few times you allowed yourself to pass out was when Satoru was awake, because you wouldn’t dare to close your eyes when he was sleeping himself, but you couldn’t trust him. And you’d feel horrible if you made him stay awake just so you can sleep.
“No, seriously, no coffee for you,” he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled towards the bed.
“Gojo, do you not understand—”
“Shhh,” he hushed, manhandling you onto the mattress, forcing your shoes off and gathering the covers to tuck you in as if you were a child.
“I hate you…” Was all you could mumble. It was a torture. The soft pillows underneath your head and warm comforter were so perfect, so inviting for you to just let yourself drift off. You wished to let the heavy eyelids down, to give your eyes the rest they need and allow your brain to reset and clear. You felt like your body was betraying you, the exhaustion was seeping into your bones, making it impossible to move.
“Yeah, yeah,” to your surprise, Gojo pushed his own boots off as well and in a moment he was in bed with you, sharing sheets and pulling you towards himself. “Now, here. You are now inside my infinity. You’re safe, sleep.”
Infinity. It felt safe, suddenly, but was it because of infinity or the man that now had his arms wrapped around you? You couldn’t tell and frankly, you couldn’t speak either, so you just hummed something in response as the sleep has taken you away.
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chlorinecake · 7 months
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Ooo I loved the part 2 of CC , though my sadistic side is coming out 👀 ima need non con smut for legal line , only kissing for niki tho
777 | noncon with enha
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warnings ⫘ somnophilia, unprotected sex, oral/hand jobs (f. and m. receiving), degrading, rough sex, exhibitionism and voyeurism, kissing, overstimulation, breeding kink, humiliation
pairing ⫘ enhypen x fem!reader ⫘ highly requested ⫘ less than 180 words each
tw ⫘ any hate on this post will be ignored: save your rage and keep scrolling
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Nishimura Riki, your school’s recent transfer student, hated the fact that you were taken. To your classmates, Riki’s feelings towards you were obvious, but you overlooked his flirting as kindness. One day, you and your boyfriend were having lunch when Riki stopped at your table, his dominant hands forcing you to face him. “R-Riki, we’re trying to eat here—” you started before your words were interrupted by his hungry kiss, hands sliding beneath your uniform to hold you still. You whined into Riki’s mouth, pushing him away, but he didn’t let go until your angry boyfriend left the scene, and with him, everyone else. “I can't believe you just did that!" you stood and yelled, only to get your wrists pinned to the cafeteria table.  “And I can’t believe you tried to hide how much you liked it,” Riki smirked, inching closer to your face.  “Get off of me!” You fought, but he only cooed at your feeble attempts. “Now that your loser boyfriend’s gone, can you kiss me properly this time, or do I have to force you again?”
It was around 1 in the morning when your boyfriend Heeseung slithered behind you on the mattress, lifting the night gown over your hips. He was already hard, but the little sounds you made in your sleep only added to his desperation. Shifting your underwear, he aligned himself with your entrance, gliding past your heat as if he prepped you. You woke up after he started clinging to your tits, rocking your body with his thrusts as he left purple marks down your neck. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Heeseung went crazy behind you, his flushed face just seconds from climaxing. “Hey, baby,” he grunted lowly, speeding up his movements, “I didn’t mean to wake you like this, I just couldn’t wait any longer.” “That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have woke me up first, Hee,” you said with a whiny voice, gripping the sheets at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you. “Fuck, baby, I’m so close,” he moaned, feeling dizzy from how tight he was holding you. 
Dressed up in the most revealing outfit you could find, Jay couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you danced near his outdoor pool bar. Lost in the music, you didn’t even realize that Jay had snuck up behind you, holding your hips in place as he pressed himself against you. “Jay, what the hell?” You retorted, not feeling comfortable about him acting this way in front of everyone. “You obviously wanted my attention, so don’t cry now that you’re getting it my way,” he whispered, taking your hand in his as he led you to the bathroom, locking the door. He sat you on the counter and started to kiss you, groping every part of your body as both of your clothes came off one by one. “Jay, this is a little fast, can we go back to the party?” You asked, trying to hide the way your hands were shaking. “Don’t worry, angel,” he smirked while slipping on a condom, “I’ll be gentle with you after round three.”
Sim Jake, your favorite fuck buddy, left you feeling sore thanks to last night’s session, but that didn’t stop him from going at it even harder the next day. You were literally sobbing, scratching his back as he fucked you near stupid. “It’ll feel better once you come baby, just stop pushing me away,” he whimpered as you bit down on his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he said, grinding into your hole and hitting all your sweet spots. “Pull out Jake,” you urged, reaching for his hips but he grabbed your arms, pinning them above your head. “Jake, I said pull out,” you whined, feeling your own climax approaching as he panted over you like an exhausted puppy. “No, baby, I need to fill you up… wanna fuck you so good that my cum spills out of you,” he groaned again. You moaned at the feeling of his seed coating your insides. His thrusts grew sloppy as he slowly hammered into you, sucking on your neck as if he was still touch depraved.
Sunghoon was feeling needy for you, but, being the dom that he is, didn’t wanna beg for it. So instead, he made his move at the dinner table… right in front of his parents. At some point for whatever reason, his parents walked out of the kitchen, leaving you and Sunghoon completely alone. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You whined, trying to move his greedy hands away from your aching pussy. “Shut up,” he chuckled, spitting on your heat before adding a third finger to the painful mix. “Sunghoon, that’s too much!” You yelped, holding onto his shoulder. “Then I’ll make it fit,” he smirked, forcing his digits past your tightness. “Now would you stop bossing me around, princess? I’m doing you a favor here, y’know?”  “But-“ your words were cut off by him shoving your lace panties in your mouth, forcing your legs open so he could work better. He rubbed your clit at a tantalizing speed, making you cream on his fingers as muffled moans filled the air. 
You were currently on a zoom meeting for school when Sunoo walked in the room. “Hey baby,” you greeted as usual, but he didn’t respond, only sneaking underneath your desk and parting your legs. You were wearing a dress, so he had almost immediate access to your cunt, diving in mouth first as he tantalized your clit, nibbling, sucking, and massaging it in ways that made you twitch within the first few seconds. You tried pushing his head away, but he gripped onto your thighs, pulling you closer to his tongue. “Sunoo, not right now,” you whimpered, not even aware of all the O-faces you’d just made in front of your classmates and instructor. You slammed your laptop shut, the sound making Sunoo tighten his grip on your legs as you continued trying to escape his skilled mouth, “Just let me please you, baby, I know you’ll thank me once you finish.”
You accidentally barged in on your best friend’s brother, Jungwon, while he was masturbating in the shower. You would’ve been gone by now if it wasn’t for how quickly he pinned you against the wall. “Either you do something about this, or I will,” he whispered lowly, making your gaze fall down to his hard-on. Perhaps your answer took too long, because he was already forcing you down to your knees before him. “You can try biting me if you want to, but then I’ll just fuck you in front of her, anyways,” he groaned, pushing himself past your hesitant lips. Admittedly, you had hooked up with Jungwon before, but never while his sister was home. The thought of her walking in on you two like this made your eyes brim with tears… or maybe it was just the way his dick kept hitting the back of your throat. Clinging to his wet thighs, Jungwon threw his head back as he finished relatively quickly. Using a thumb to toy with your lower lip, he forced your mouth closed and whispered, “Swallow it.”
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⫘ Thank you for reading this quick fic! I didn’t make it too aggressive because I’m still relatively new to writing dubcon?? No promises that I’ll make more content like this in the future, though! Check out my enyhpen bookshelf for more interesting reads, as always!!
⫘ P.S: if you’re one of my moots and I didn’t tag you, it’s simply because I’m not sure if you’re comfortable with this kind of content! ILY 😣
⫘ Tag list: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @euechanhee @hooniecum @syyeluvs @lovelovelovebts @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @yevene @cherrylovr @suc4u @interlunium-opus @soobinscrustysock @yjw1a1 @anelisaax
Update 10/23/23: AHHH thank you so much guys !!
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anantaru · 7 months
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DAY 24 — BRAT TAMING
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — kazuha, alhaitham
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, brat taming, they're mean lmao, petnames used: love, smart girl, oral (male! receiving), cockwarming
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𖧡 — KAZUHA
coruscating with a hot prickle underneath your cheeks and your arousal oozing out of you, kazuha wastes no time before he pulls your mouth back into his lower area with your lips open wide to receive his pulsating cock again— more so feel it stick and melt to your tongue so sinfully as you drag the roughness of your wet muscle against the underside of his dick, tickling the buzzing veins.
"i— ah, hardly notice anything," kazuha admits bluntly and chuckles as his fingers comp over the back of your head, "you need to try harder, i fear," what a distinguished way your boyfriend had with words, which, in any other case he does but not now, not when he was attempting to teach you a lesson.
and you reach in between his thighs at his blatant sentence, to properly take his balls in your warm palm— giving him two good squeezes as he instantly swallows back a groan at the harsh treatment you added onto him, being aware that he was exceptionally sensitive right there.
well, granted, this entire ordeal was placed on you for a reason— because sometimes you just cannot help yourself but be a little, mean brat to your handsome boyfriend, until his habitual and subdued personality gets spiked up with a dangerous notion affiliated with lust, desire, and the clear thought of putting you in your place.
"maybe if you, fuck— wouldn't have been so mean, my love," kazuha pauses, roughly curving his palms against your cheeks so he could softly brush his thumbs over the skin, breathing out a whispery moan when he could feel himself shallowly slip in and out of your hot mouth, "i wouldn't have to use such words on you."
you whine in attempt to spell out a witty comeback but are only being crowded with his fat tip grazing over the back of your throat— you hiccup and babble, perceiving him entirely, his slightly bitter taste penetrating your nostrils as your body grew to smell like his luscious fragrance.
kazuha shifts in his seat a little before pushing his hips up your flexed throat to catch you off guard— yet, little does he realize at last, when he fucks your throat and uses your mouth as he pleases, with your saliva and his pre dribbling all over your chin and his boxers, that in reality, you will never stop engaging in this sort of play and be all about the drama, so perfect when you act like a little brat, so kazuha could use your mouth again, no need to urge you on for anything when you're practically salivating at the taste of his salty cum on your tongue.
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𖧡 — ALHAITHAM
"don't flatter yourself too much, i'm not even fully hard yet,"
whenever you were acting out— attempting to push and pull against alhaitham's usual stoic and unbothered demeanor, you are most likely defeated right away, yet do not be mistaken because, the moment you do achieve to, quote on quote, step onto the wrong tile, he almost needs to profess the power he held over you.
you take a sharp intake of air before exhaling it out with a tremble the moment he first sinks into you— although much to your surprise, he wouldn't move, he wouldn't even kiss you, only focusing on your sizzling hole swallowing him in like a wet suction pulling on his shaft.
"hey!" you whine, before slipping your hands around his neck so you could kiss him yourself, only to be met with alhaitham quickly turning his head so you'd clumsily hit his ear instead, "w-what's up with you?"
it's in a juncture like this where everything suddenly comes crashing down on your complete frame and holds you hostage against your will, the split second you can remember it in a spur of a moment, vividly, when you were oh so graciously disturbing his peace earlier, just because you felt like it.
"i'm not moving tonight," he proclaims, a little aloof and standoffish but holding your gaze with unapproachable eyes before he repeatedly slaps the plush flesh of your ass, making you squeak out.
"you do it yourself," alhaitham wasn't really interested in a heart-wrecking apology from you, truthfully, he had already planned out and structured how this night would end, obviously in his favor because you cannot beat him— he stops when you're begging him, full of brimming tears, to make you please please cum because you just cannot hold it in anymore!
"i can't," you attempt to move your hips but are being met with one large hand pinning you back down the mattress.
alhaitham was torturing you, that's what it was, at least in your eyes, and you dig into his scalp and ruffle his hair, aiming to make him kiss you again (and failing) before scraping your nails around his ears, where he was a little sensitive, yet not even that worked out so you ultimately go down to his neck— your lips curved up into a sweet and apologetic pout, hoping he'd show mercy tonight.
"okay, i'm sorry, i went to far, i'm sorry sorry sorry.." you mewl out in a frantic exhale, the heaviness of his throbbing erection melting within your walls was maddening, and it hurt, a mild pain battering your pulsing cunt as your pussy flutters greedily around his girth, wishing to chance his mind.
alhaitham noticed how you were glistening all over his dick, he feels how your cunt squeezes him experimentally too, but it's more than just wanting you to please him tonight and make it about him, which in actuality, the scribe didn't give a single damn about his pleasure— but it's about obedience, just how it's found in dogs following their owner, and instead of using words, he uses his thick cock stretching you out until you're whining and loosing all of your witty responses, both of you fusing and becoming one.
but that agonizingly sizzling tension in between your squished bodies, ugh, it was surrounding you, your soul and mind, it was beginning to simply steal your breath away.
"but you're such a smart girl, right? always having a comeback to everything, so try harder."
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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httpsserene · 6 months
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Heyy, i was wondering if you could do an Toto wolff x reader. I was thinking kitchen sex?? Like Toto getting turned on because he found out that reader was trying to make him his beloved pumpernickel bread for breakfast. I’ve been seeing tiktoks of Toto and his love for pumpernickel bread, and was just wondering if you could write abt it, though it’s TOTALLY ok if you don’t. Sorry if this was a little messy, this is my first time rqsting something. ♥️
𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐰/𝐭. 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐟
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📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you make toto his favorite bread. he’s going to thank you for this surprise properly. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. implied age gap. kitchen sex. rambling about bread. unprotected sex. vaginal sex. morning sex. reader and toto are married. beta-read. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.2k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: toto wolff x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: can't take my eyes off of you (i love you baby) • lauryn hill
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: can you tell i did way to much research on the types of pumpernickel bread? no, well, i don’t care 🙂 i WAS NOT familiar with toto wolff and pumpernickel bread so a quick youtube search opened my eyes to it and uh what can i say, this was born. ALSO: i feel like i’ve self-diagnosed myself; i am ashamed to admit that my kink might be somebody making me their wife…because why can’t i go one fic without making the reader be referenced to as a wife (m sorry i crave love). i honestly feel like it could be better, but y’know i hope i did your request justice (sorry it took me so long, ktober beat my ass). anon! i hope you see this, and i hope all the toto wolff lovers enjoy !!!
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the yellow dish gloves on your hands protect your brown skin from most of the heat of the scalding tap water. the sound of your hums airily reverberate within the high ceilings of your open-plan kitchen as you clean the expensive dishes you’ve dirtied. you’ve taken off your wedding ring and placed it on top of your phone in the middle of the island to avoid any possibility of it falling down the drain or getting damaged. 
you woke up a little after dawn, quickly shutting off your alarm to avoid waking up your husband; it’s the off season for him, you won’t wake him up at insane hours when he’s not needed to work. sneaking out of bed was a battle of its own—there were several close calls as you struggled to slip out of the tight hold of the austrian man. it took seven minutes for you to escape his warm embrace, but you made it through by thinking of the surprise you were going to cook up for Toto—or bake up for him. it’s no secret to anybody that the mercedes team principal loves pumpernickel bread, and that he’s very particular about how he likes it. of course, there’s no way you would be able to make the traditional german pumpernickel bread before he woke up—it takes fourteen hours to cook and it needs to rest for an entire day to allow it to form properly into its crunchy, cookie-like consistency. so, you decided to make the simplified recipe that only takes roughly an hour and a half to bake and prepare, while the original takes its time cooking. your husband will have to be happy with the more loaf-like treat until his preferred bread is ready. you’ve never been more thankful to have two ovens. 
everything went well. both breads are prepped and baking away at their respective temperatures, and you’re carefully attempting to clean up the mess you’ve made in the process. you may not have been quiet enough based on the footsteps you hear heading your way. Toto pauses in the doorway and you smile, not needing to turn around to see the baffled expression on his face. you turn the faucet off and grab the cloth resting on the oven handle to dry your hands, “good morning, bär. slept well?” you teased gently with a small smile in Toto’s direction. you take an appraising glance of his form; he’s only wearing this pair of pajama pants covered in the mercedes logo (George gifted him those when the team did secret santa last year; Toto said he’d never wear them), leaving his toned torso exposed for your viewing pleasure, sleep lines from his pillow are still faint along his left cheek, and his hair is ruffled like he’s been running his hands through it. your husband nods half-heartedly, and blinks in confusion as he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen.
you're wearing one of his white button-up shirts—half of the buttons are fastened, the sleeves are rolled up and cuffed right above your elbow. you aren’t wearing a bra based on the way he can see how your nipples are pebbled through the shirt, and he assumes you’re only wearing underwear based on your bare legs. your feet are warmed by a pair of black, fuzzy house slippers, the bottom of the shirt rests along the middle of your thighs, and the collar is shifted to the side exposing your collarbone. your hair is free, allowed to rest however it wants to on this winter morning. he starts, making to finally enter the space of the kitchen and give you a proper morning greeting, but notices a smudge of flour along your jawline. and then he sees the baking utensils gathered in the sink, and a rich aroma starts to permeate the air. it smells slightly like coffee and slightly like dark chocolate—it’s sweet. then, it dawned on Toto, you’re baking pumpernickel bread. for him. his heart flutters; you usually sleep as late into the morning as possible, but today, you woke up at an insane hour just to make him his favorite bread from scratch. you’ve always teased him for how difficult he acts about his breakfast treat yet you sacrificed hours of sleep to please him. Toto’s mushy mindset is broken, as you cock your head at him, wondering why he hasn’t responded to you, and the collar of his your shirt shifts and falls to expose the top of your chest. mmm, yes, he should thank you properly.
you don’t even have time to register toto crossing the space between you, before your lips are interlocked in a passionate kiss. a shocked squeal is muffled against toto’s lips, as his large hands hold your waist steady, and your own hand flies up to hold his head. your other hand rises to tap at his chest frantically, as you begin to run out of air, and toto pulls away with an amused chuckle. dazedly, your hand on his chest pulls back to touch your lips, like you needed further verification that he just kissed you. 
Toto smirks, “good morning, schatz.”
you nod unsteadily, “yes—g-good morning.”
your husband laughs louder at your stutter, and tugs you into his chest for a proper hug, rubbing at the nape of your neck with a heavy hand. the two of you stand tangled in the middle of the kitchen, uncaring of how many seconds fly by, and your eyes flutter shut at the relaxing motion of Toto’s massaging hands. 
“i’m going to fuck you on the island, now, “ Toto informs you kindly.
you startle, pulling your head back to stare up at him with wide eyes. his gaze is serious, and you can’t help how your cheeks warm under his attention.
“well…” you murmur, “i’m not going to say no.”
from there, it’s all a rushed haze. you go from having two feet firmly planted on the tiled floor to being lifted and placed on the marble island as toto speeds through unbuttoning your collared shirt. you try to shrug it off, but Toto halts your motions firmly telling you to leave it on. you hum absently and pull him into a kiss. Toto moans into your mouth, and the sound has your hips bucking forwarding to grind against the bulge in his pants. his hands reaches for your left hip and assists you in grinding against him, and a sigh of pleasure parts your lips. the austrian eagerly slips his tongue into your mouth, and he tastes a bit of sugar from whatever you snacked on while making his bread. oddly, that causes more of his blood to rush south and he breaks the kiss to lean back and tug your panties off. 
you simultaneously pull his pajama pants down, and squirm happily at the fact that he slept without boxers. Toto gently guides you to lie back on the countertop, and coos softly when you shiver from the cold surface; he’ll warm you up soon. he pulls your panties off from where they were dangling around your right ankle and drops them to the floor, kicking them to the side along with his pants. tugging you forward, your ass rests on the edge of the counter and he leans down to press kisses on your throat.
moaning highly, you crane your neck to expose its full length to his mercy. your right hand tangles in his hair to guide him exactly where you want, your left hand holds at his shoulder for support, with your nails digging into the meat of his muscles. Toto pauses, and pulls back to grab your left hand. a broken whine falls from your lips, and you buck your hips upward searching for friction, the slide of his cock along your folds feels delicious. his knees buckle at the sensation, and he forces your hips back down with his free hand, as he pulls your left hand in front of him to look at it.
“where’s your ring, liebling?” Toto asks, warm eyes focused on your bare ring finger. you laugh disbelievingly, amused and surprised at the fact that he managed to feel the absence of your wedding ring, and pull your hand out of his grasp smoothly. you reach behind you and pluck your ring from its spot on top of your phone, and slide it back on your finger. brandishing your ringed-hand in his eyeline, you impatiently try and buck your hips upward to no avail, his one-handed hold on you is unbreakable. 
“okay! fuck me—now, please,” you demand desperately.
Toto hushes you, and holds your left hand steady. he stares into your eyes as he presses a kiss on the wedding ring he bestowed you with. your cheeks burn hot, and you roll your eyes as if your heart didn’t liquify at the show of devotion. your husband guides himself to your entrance, and pushes in carefully—thankful he fucked you open last night. you whimper softly, tender and sore, but you nod frantically to encourage Toto to push further in. he groans throatily as he bottoms out, throwing his head back in pleasure, and your moan harmonizes at the feeling of fullness. the stretch burns slightly, but you’re more focused on achieving an orgasm than the space he caves out in your walls. 
you squeeze your knees around his waist, and grind up on him to encourage him to move. Toto grabs your left leg, bringing it to rest over his shoulder, while your right leg remains resting on his waist, both fuzzy slippers falling from your feet at the movement. it has him sliding slightly deeper inside you, and a spark of pleasure races up your spine. Toto begins to thrust, setting a quick pace from the get go. he fucked you open eight hours ago and the tightness of your cunt has him considering that he didn’t fuck you well enough. the bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips suggest differently. it’s ridiculous, how lost the two you get in each other’s bodies. your moans are punched out of you with every thrust, his cock dragging against your most pleasurable spot every time he sinks in you. Toto should be embarrassed at how quickly this is ending, but your sounds are too erotic for there to be any other outcome. 
he lays his hand on your navel, gently adding pressure over where he’s reaching inside of you, while his thumb circles rapidly over your clit. your back arches sharply as you screech from the unexpected flare of pleasure, raking your nails down his back in thin red lines as you cum at the added stimulation. it’s a multitude of sensations and emotions that had you hurtling over the edge quicker than you thought possible, and Toto has no choice but to follow you into the abyss, unable to hold back his orgasm at the unbearably hot and wet grasp of your cunt. your husband rocks into you through the afterglow, pausing only when you start to whimper in too much, and not feeling good. staring up at toto with a blissed-out smile and half-lidded eyes, you sigh sweetly as he slips out and leans down to kiss you again. the press of his lips is syrupy sweet and you find yourself getting lost under the feeling of him pouring his love and devotion into you—even though you don’t need the reminder—and the timer you’ve set on your phone blares jarringly causing you and toto to jump apart, startled. 
“what the fuck,” Toto deadpans as you scramble around to turn off the alarm. 
you sigh in relief once the aggravating sound is silenced, and nudge at Toto’s hip with your foot, “well—don’t just stand there! get the bread out before it burns!”
the austrian huffs exaggeratedly, like it’s such a chore, and pulls on the oven mitts to take out the pumpernickel bread adaptation after you direct him to the proper oven, not wanting him to disturb the traditional bread baking. the sight of the known headphone-smashing, hothead mercedes team principal completely naked spare for a pair of oven mitts is amusing, enough that you can’t quiet your snort, uncaring of how Toto glares at you. he places the baking tin on the cooling rack you set to the side, and hums happily at the aroma—even though it’s a far cry from the usual bread he prefers. like the oaf he is, Toto reaches to pull a piece of the fresh pumpernickel to eat, but with lightning quick speed you reach over and slap his hand away before he defiles the bread. 
“aht aht! what do you think you're doing? it needs at least forty-five minutes to cool before you can take a slice,” you scold the grown man.
Toto pouts (astounding, honestly), and then he brightens considerably, a sleazy smirk spreading across his lips, “ah? we have time for a second round then, maybe three…” you laugh hysterically, ignoring the way your stomach flips pleasingly at the suggestion, and slide off the counter, buttoning up your collared shirt, and you bend down to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing lying on the floor, “there’s no way you manage to get hard twice in forty-five minutes, old man–” Toto balks at your words–he’s really not old, or at least not that old, “–however, it’s enough time to finish washing the dishes you distracted me from doing.”
taglist: @saintslewi@cherry2stems@lorarri@inloveallthetime@mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz
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© httpsserene2023
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nolita-fairytale · 11 months
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give you my wild, give you a child | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x pregnant fem!reader oneshot
summary: your second trimester while pregnant with baby bear is way sexier than you expected.
warnings: smut, breeding kink, language, 18+ only, barely proofread.
word count: 3.7k
a/n: hi it's me with the second trimester sexapalooza smut i promised @starbritestarlite and @carmensberzattos. and with this new season, let me know if you want to be added to my carmy taglist!! i wrote this as a companion piece to the 'make my heart heart surrender' universe, specifically for the 'carmy as your baby daddy' headcanon/social media au series. anyways, i've been thoroughly enjoying season 2 and am sitting into the fact that i've created my own universe inside of their universe. god we love fanfic. anyways... this is nsfw so 18+ only.
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Today 2:21 pm
Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: On the way home for lunch. 
You: Hurry, baby. 
Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: You good, sweet girl?
Your reply is almost instant, and Carmy wonders what could possibly come next as he sees the three dots appear below your message, indicating that you’re still typing. 
It’s a link, his eyes widening as soon as it appears in his iMessage history with you. 
You: Hottest Sex Positions For Pregnant Women | Cosmopolitan 
Before he can notice that it feels ten degrees hotter in the room, that his face has turned cherry red, that his pants are beginning to feel unbearably tighter, he’s interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice. 
“You good, chef?” Marcus asks, as he passes by, noticing the red tones that have risen to Carmy’s cheeks. 
“Wh-, oh yeah!” Carmy answers, almost too quickly, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. 
Marcus shoots him a strange look, examining his boss’ face. 
“Just uh… gotta go home for lunch.”
*
3:03 pm
“What took you so long?” you practically growl as soon as Carmy gets through the door. 
He hasn’t even had a chance to close it properly before you’re on him like a moth to a flame. Dressed in the cutest pair of white shortalls, you’ve been working from home all day – or rather, mindlessly clicking through your e-mail while waiting for Carmy to come home all day, your mind preoccupied with the fact that Carmy hasn’t been home to give you exactly what you want. 
What you need, may be the better description. 
It’s as if the spirit of Eros himself has taken you over, unable to focus properly as your rapidly changing body needs is practically screaming out for one thing and one thing only: 
To be properly and thoroughly fucked by the man that got you here in the first place. 
“I-,” he begins, attempting to explain that he was running a little behind and got caught up giving feedback to one of his new line cooks before your mouth is on his in an all-consuming kiss. 
Now that he’s here, you regret even asking him, careless for the why when it feels this good to have him pressed up against your body. Your lips are desperate, hungry, intense, as you tangle yourself into him. It’s as if you can finally relax, like you can finally take a breath, now that your husband is finally here. 
He lets out a little groan of surprise against your mouth, as if you’ve charged towards him like the sexual equivalent of a tasmanian devil. 
And in his defense, you have.
“Baby,” he whispers against your lips. “Should we-, can we even-, shouldn’t you be working?”
He’s not wrong. 
You should be working. 
But the unbelievable and insatiable need for sex – for sex with Carmy – is the only thing driving you these days, holding you hostage to its unbelievable and all-encompassing power. You’re like a woman possessed as you reluctantly pull away from him to put his mind at ease. Your lust-filled eyes look him over, his curls already wild from a long day at the restaurant, as you shake your head ‘no.’
“I finished all my work for the day and signed off early. Perks of being a start-up sellout,” your well-kissed lips inform him. 
Carmy’s head spins in response to your answer.
Maybe it’s the prospect of the sex. 
Maybe it’s the way it’s the way your mouth feels against him as you kiss down his jawline and his neck.
“Okay, but I gotta be back at the restaurant at 4:15,” he smiles in agreement, more than happy to oblige.
“That’s plenty of time,” you coo, nibbling on his earlobe.
This time it’s Carmy who initiates, using both of his hands to cradle your face before his mouth is over yours again. The kiss starts slowly this time as he inhales deeply, taking you in. You shift closer, pressing your slightly-rounder-these-days belly against his body once more. He moans, his hands immediately traveling down your body, to your hips as he breathes you in again, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with you forever. His touch ignites something in you and you allow yourself to surrender, lost in the feel of his hands against you. His hands are everywhere – your hips, traveling up your belly, dancing across your fuller-than-normal breasts – and finally the drawn-out unrest of your mind can finally find peace.
He’s starting to get used to this. 
And he’ll admit that he really, really likes it. 
Carmy changes positions with you so that he can press you up against the front door as you continue your passionate makeout. 
Your first trimester had been hell – mornings spent on the bathroom floor together while you hurled the contents of your stomach into the toilet, days where you barely had the energy to get out of bed, nights where you were too hot to sleep that all you could do was lay on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, frustrated tears pouring out of the corners of your eyes – your body undergoing the hardest reset of your life. 
So when the fog and tumultuousness of your first trimester subsided, it was a more than welcomed change – and in so many ways. You’ve traded mornings of flat ginger ale, saltines, and sympathetic back rubs, with mornings spent tugging on Carmy’s perfect curls while you cried out his name.
“You smell like sandwiches,” you giggle in between kisses. 
“Ah shit. I should shower,” he sighs, reluctantly. 
He knows your sense of smell has been heightened lately, and he can’t imagine that smelling like a spicy Italian sandwich would be much of a turn on for you. He begins to pull away, but there’s now way in hell you’re letting him go as you grab his hands in yours. 
"No, Carmy, I can't wait,” you whine, the sound of your voice the most needy, beautiful thing Carmy’s ever heard in his life. 
“You could join me,” he offers with a raise of an eyebrow, presenting a solution you can absolutely get behind. 
“Uh huh. Yes please,” you nod eagerly, a girlishness to the way you answer him. 
Please.
Your usage of the word’s got him harder than a rock and he loves this side of you. Your sex life had been great before the pregnancy, but there’s something different about it now. Something about how needy you’ve been – the only thing that can possibly quell the fire inside of you being him – has him unraveling at the seams. 
How could he possibly say no when he’s more than eager to give you exactly (and then some, if it’s up to him) what you want? 
Your fingers are still tangled in his, licking your lips as you add, “My baby daddy thinks of everything.”
Carmy shakes his head, tugging at your hands as he leads you towards the bathroom, mentioning that he still can’t get over the fact that you’ve chosen to call him that in front of everyone you’ve ever known. You remind him that it’s cute, and though he’s not sure he gets it, he lets you do it anyway because it makes you happy.
As you both reach the bathroom, you patiently wait as Carmy turns on the shower, running a hand through the stream of water to check the temperature. One minute he’s focused on the cool water coming down from the showerhead, and then next he’s caging you in between his body and the bathroom sink. 
“You miss me this much, pretty girl?” he murmurs dreamily, his hand trailing up your inner thigh. 
You nod, taking note of how perfectly his top lip fits in between yours. 
“Yes, baby. Thanks for coming home for lunch,” you manage to get out, in between desperate kisses. 
“No need to thank me,” he smirks, a newly-found confidence in his voice. 
His hands are tugging at the hem of your shorts, as if he could slide the overalls down your body this way, a small pang of frustration welling deep in his stomach as he realizes that’s not going to happen. He kisses you with a fervor that makes you dizzy, as Carmy fumbles with the straps of your overalls. Trying his best to unclasp one side, he tosses the strap over your back, a clang sounding out within the four walls of the small room as the metal of the claps hits the porcelain of the sink. 
Carmy lets out a groan as he tugs at the second strap, causing you to giggle. 
“These stupid things,” he huffs, a look of embarrassment running through his brilliant blues. 
“Here, baby,” you say, slipping one of your arms out of the tangled strap. 
He groans as soon as his eyes meet yours again, more than happy to help you out of these damn things.
He pulls the overalls down with a rigor that stops right as the overalls drop to your waist, revealing your white tank top – one that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. 
“Sweetheart,” he groans, his hands ghosting over where your nipples stand erect against the fullness of your breasts. 
“You been like this all day?” he mutters against your skin, leaning down to drag his mouth over your still-clothed breasts. 
“Mmmmhm. Needed you,” you moan, your eyes closing as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you. 
He’s so incredibly hard right now it’s not even funny. 
“Yeah?”
By the time you open your eyes again, Carmy’s on his knees, so gentle, so tender with the way he slides the rest of the piece of clothing over the bump that’s been growing inside of your belly.
“Yeah,” you confirm. 
You shimmy out of your overalls as Carmy jumps back to his feet, removing your tank so that the only thing you have left is the pair of panties you’re still wearing. Before he can kiss you again, you’re tugging off his shirt, a sacrifice, an offering to the bathroom floor. 
“Should be warm enough, yeah?” you ask, gesturing towards the shower. 
“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod, removing his shorts. 
You feel all the blood in your body rush south as you see how hard he is already, swallowing hard. Carmy helps you into the shower, like the gentlemen he is, and you hope that’s where the gentleness ends. 
Before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you towards him, wrapping one of your legs around his waist as the warm water begins to wash over the both of you. 
“I’m so sorry, pretty girl,” he hums as his nimble fingers slip between your legs. He groans as soon as he feels how goddamn wet you are. 
“Fuck, honey.”
“See? I told you I needed you, Carm,” you pant, letting out a high keening moan as he draws lazy circles around your clit. You’re already bucking your hips into his hand and he’s barely started touching you. 
"You're so sensitive. So responsive, sweet girl,” he teases you, as he drags his fingers through your folds. You are so unbelievably wet that he’s not sure how he managed to get so damn lucky. 
"I just want you to fuck me, Carm. I’ve needed it all day. I need you to make me feel good," you beg, completely lost in the way his fingers feel as he slides two into you already. 
It’s like his touch sets fireworks off in your brain, setting your nerves on fire as you cry out. 
"Yeah?” he taunts you, an almost amused tone in his voice as he sets the slowest rhythm. “Think that’s how we got here in the first place, pretty girl.”
"I know,” you whimper, moving your hips against his fingers for any kind of friction. For something more. For something faster. For something deeper. But at this rate, with how much he seems to enjoy teasing you, with how horny you are, you’ll take anything. 
“But nothing feels as good as you, Carm.”
Your words go straight to his dick and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to leave you alone ever again – might as well quit his day job in exchange for this all-day never-ending second trimester sexapalooza you both seem to be caught inside of. 
He’s practically choking on his words as he manages to ask you:
"What’s that, baby? Did you touch yourself while I was gone?" 
You nod pathetically, moaning as he buries his thick fingers deep inside of you. He pauses, feeling the way your walls pulse around him as he stays inside of you, wanting to memorize this moment forever. 
In any other circumstance, he’d make you fall apart on his fingers, and then his tongue before you even went there, but with your recent admission, he’s decided that he has to have you now. In one swift motion, Carmy pulls his fingers from you, releasing his grip on your leg, eliciting a whine at the loss of him. 
Before you can even protest, he’s turning you around in the shower, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against your backside as he pulls you close.
“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like this,” he taunts you, playfully, as he drags his cock through your folds a few times. 
“Carm,” you whimper, bracing your hands against the shower wall. “Don’t tease.”
“What’s that?” he coos, pressing his thick tip against your clit. 
“I don’t think I can take it. Please, baby,” you whine, so desperate for him to be inside of you. You push your ass back against him, offering your body to him for the taking. 
“Fuck!” he grunts out, because he just can’t resist you like this. 
You let out a sharp cry, as Carmy pushes himself inside of you, finally giving the thing you’ve wanted all day long. 
Carmy sets a slow pace at first, burying himself all the way to the hilt, so that you can feel all of him – every single ridge, every single vein of his cock with each thrust – and with how sensitive, how turned on you are, you’re already seeing stars. His hands hold onto your waist, controlling the speed of your lovemaking, as you press your hands against the shower wall, bracing yourself. You want him everywhere, all around you, consuming you with every fiber of his being, as if all you can do is hold yourself up and let him know how good he’s making you feel. 
Carmy’s lips are on your neck, leaving love bites across your shoulders, murmuring sweet nothings about how well you take him and how good you feel. And then he’s speeding up the pace of each thrust, pulling you back towards him. His hands are all over you: pressing you back against his chest, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples as he takes care of you. 
His wife. 
The mother of his child. 
The love of his life. 
You turn your head just enough so that you can kiss him as Carmy’s hand reaches up to cup your face, making sure that he can kiss you properly too. This time you’re standing up taller, grinding against him, wanting to touch your husband more than you need to hold yourself up against the wall. Your hand slips behind you, grabbing at whatever parts of him that you can, bracing yourself against him, as if you could get Carmy even closer to you, while the other is guiding his across your body, your fingers tangled together. 
He’s perfect. 
This is perfect. 
It’s what you’ve been aching for all damn day. 
“I need you, Carm,” you moan into his mouth, as the consistent feel of him thrusting in and out of you has you delirious. 
"You have all of me, baby,” he reassures you in the tenderest tone of voice he can muster, his other hand resting just underneath your breasts as he fucks you. 
"More." 
"More?" 
He’s not sure what ‘more’ could mean at this moment, but the dirty talk is so hot that he’s more than willing to find out. He slows down his pace, dragging his cock in and out of you and the most delicious pace. 
"Yes,” you pant, pulling away from the searing kiss, your head hanging low. Your hands return to the shower wall as you arch your back, bending at the hips so that you can take him deeper as you add:
“I want to make you a daddy." 
His hips stutter for a second, caught off guard by what you’ve just said. 
"You-you are, sweetheart,” he chuckles, slowing his pace down for a moment as he watches himself disappear inside of you over and over again. 
“Carmy,” you groan, in response to his change pace. 
You’re grinding your ass against him, begging him to speed up, but his hands return to your hips, stopping you. 
The sight alone, and what you’ve just said, he thinks to himself, might kill him. 
You whine as Carmy brings his movements to a halt, trying to get him to fuck you again. But he can’t let what you’ve just said go unrecognized as he stills your hips. 
"What was that? You like walking around like this, hmm? Everyone knowing what I've done to you?" he asks you, holding your hips so that you can’t move.
You’ll give him anything to get what you want. 
Even if it means saying it again. 
“Yes, baby,” you sigh, and Carmy lets out another moan as you squeeze around him. 
“I want to make you a daddy. Just fuck me. Please.”
“Oh fuck,” Carmy mutters, knowing he’s not going to last much longer if you keep that up. 
He pulls out of you, and before you can protest, he’s slamming back into you in a way that makes you sob. He sets a brilliant pace this time, and you're arching your back, pressing your hands against the wall even harder – and all you can do, all you want to do, is take it. Hearing you chant his name over and over takes over him. He’s a man determined, with a single-minded focus on giving you exactly what you want. 
He’s reduced you to a moaning, mumbling mess, as you chase both of your orgasms. 
“Touch me, Carmy,” escapes your lips, and he’s more than happy to oblige, his fingers immediately coming to your clit. 
He’s so goddamn talented, using his cock and his hands to make you fall apart. 
You feel a familiar coil in your belly, and with the way you’re squeezing around him, Carmy can tell your close. 
“Come on, sweet girl. Go ahead and let go for me,” his voice sturdy, confident, strong. 
And seconds later, your eyes slam shut as you’re crying out his name, falling over the edge as your husband pulls the most delicious orgasm from your body. 
“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.”
He’s right behind you – literally and figuratively – as Carmy’s thrusts become more erratic, finally letting go after exercising an impossible level of self control. He spills inside of you with a grunt, holding you against him as he pauses. 
Breathless, you throw your head back, grateful that his shoulder is there to catch you. With the slightest turn of your head, you’re able to kiss him, placing the gentlest kiss against the corner of his mouth before Carmy’s hand comes up to lift your chin towards him again, so that he can kiss you properly. 
“Holy shit, Bear,” you sigh, a sense of relief washing over you. 
“Yeah,” he pants, trying to catch his breath with you. 
You both take a beat, a moment to let your brains catch up with your bodies, just holding onto each other – savoring the way it feels to be in each others’ arms. 
“I should uh… I should probably still shower,” Carmy starts, beginning to come back down to earth. 
You turn back towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, entertaining him with slow, lazy kisses in between words. 
“But why don’t you dry off and get into bed?” Carmy suggests, using a quiet yet direct tone, almost as if it’s an order. 
It’s as if he knows that, though the last orgasm he’d just given you had been world-rocking, there’s no way in hell you’ll be satiated today with just one. 
“Really?” you ask, hopefully with a giggle. 
“Yeah,” he nods. 
“Heard, chef,” you tease him, eliciting a playful eye roll from him. 
He releases you, giving you the time and space to wring out your hair and step out of the shower. 
And as you do what he says, he rewards you for it, spending the rest of the afternoon with his face buried between your legs until he’s ready to go again. 
*
“And we’ve got a special tonight. Lemon chicken piccata. We’re talkin’ major Berzatto family recipe, ok? So let’s make sure we’re talkin’ up, alright?” Richie announces, following it up with a reminder to all of his servers of the main talking point during tonight’s pre-shift meeting. 
Carmy thinks he’s been stealthy as he attempts to sneak back into the restaurant, considering he’s thirty minutes late. He feels lucky that since everyone is preoccupied with the pre-shift meeting that they couldn’t possibly notice him slipping in this late. He hears the meeting end, making a mental note that tonight’s mise has been done right, praying that tonight’s service goes smoothly. 
He has, afterall, been using up a lot of extra energy lately…. 
“Hey, Jeffrey. We were wondering when you’d be in tonight,” Tina comments, as she returns to the kitchen, ready to lead service tonight. 
“Oh uh, yeah. Sorry, got caught up with some stuff,” he mumbles, avoiding her gaze as he doesn’t have an excuse or a cover story. 
“Mmmhhhmmmm,” she sounds, passing him by, because it’s no secret what Carmen Berzatto’s been up to lately. 
“Yo, cousin!” Carmy calls out, in search of Richie. 
Carmy makes his way into the dining room, and as soon as Richie sees him, knowing what time it is – knowing that Carmy’s running late – he smirks. A blush runs over Carmy’s cheeks as Richie shakes his head with a laugh. 
It’s as if Richie can see right through him, and suddenly, Carmy’s feeling incredibly exposed.
Richie wags a finger at his cousin, his laugh beginning to build. 
“Ahhhh man, cousin,” he sighs, an amused look on his face as he continues. “No one warned ya, huh?”
“I-,” Carmy starts, searching for any and all excuses he could make up on the spot, to no avail. 
“Men can’t resist a pregnant woman. Sheesh. Enjoy it while you can, jagoff.”
2K notes · View notes
luvvyouforever · 5 months
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headcanons : harry potter boys x keeper!reader
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↳ harry, ron, draco, neville, fred, george, remus, and sirius with a partner who can wield ancient magic (hogwarts legacy style).
↳ requests are open! submit ideas, drabbles, headcanons, or one shots to the link in my bio! don’t be shy <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
harry potter:
-thinks it is the coolest shit ever! when you're in a fight together and you protect him by shooting a powerful blue bolt towards the enemy that disintegrates their very beginning, he feels so proud to be your partner!
-on the other side, he also knows it feels like to have a lot of pressure and power on your side. he worries about what it must feel like to wield ancient magic and be the only living person who can see it. every time you use it, he checks on you after, ensuring that you don't feel too exhausted and can continue fighting.
-supported you so much through the trials. he didn't need to know every detail of what you did and went through but he would hold you so tight when you came back, praising you over and over for being so strong and brave.
ron weasley:
-he's a little jealous, ngl. like his partner can use this sick magic and is responsible for keeping the magic safe and alive out of the wrong hands?? why can't he do that???
-i also feel like ron would be confused, if not a little angry, that you refuse to share the power and attempt what others have before (such as isidora using the magic to remove pain). he doesn't really understand the problem and feels like the keepers are suspicious.
-he'd brag about you alllllll the time though! like oh my god every second he would find some way to bring up the fact that you can do really awesome things and that you are his awesome partner forever!
draco malfoy:
-draco loves you a lot and finds your magic incredibly cool, don't get me wrong, but i think his family swayed his pursuit of you because wouldn't it be so grand if the malfoys had a keeper in their family? someone so powerful and knowledgeable? who would pass down the truth and their magic? yes please! (every time narcissa brings it up, it irks draco but also he pats himself on the shoulder for choosing you)
-wants to know every detail about the trials and the past and the memories you're viewing! you'll come back from a trial, sweaty and tired, maybe bleeding, and he'd help you first then ask hundreds of questions after.
-your use of ancient magic is not necessarily unknown and makes you quite popular among the students of hogwarts. this, however, makes draco really jealous. if he could, he would follow you everywhere, glaring down anyone who tries to make a move on you. before you go on adventures, classes, or just to the common room, he'll drape you in his slytherin scarf as if he was marking you.
neville longbottom:
-poor thing gets so nervous when you have to complete the trials or do something incredibly important for the sake of keeping the magic safe. he knows he can't go along with you but he'd stay by your side until the very moment you enter the map chamber, whispering praises and support the whole time.
-would heal up all your wounds and take care of you if you exerted too much during a fight. he knows how much everyone depends on you and the least he can do is take care of you properly! he would run you a bath, apply soothing balms to your skin or use his plants to heal you up, and cuddle you tightly!
-tries his hardest to not feel useless but sometimes it's hard when you're so strong and he's so...not. of course you'll always reassure him and give him the confidence he needs but very frequently, he gets really down on himself about it.
fred weasley:
-every day he comes to you with a new scheme that involves your magic. could you make a portal that leads from the dungeons of hogwarts to the top of the astronomy tower? it's important. snape is gonna get really mad when he goes into his office? can your magic fix that?
-begs, and i mean BEGS, you to let him come along on your adventures and battles. he wants nothing more than to support you and fight along your side! as long it's not a trial, you can't help but let him come along. you usually end up saving him after he pays a little more attention to the way your whip around the battle, taking down everyone effortlessly.
-speaking of paying too much attention to you, he thinks it is so attractive than you can do what you do! he gives you some time after fighting to recuperate but then immediately he is ON you. he's kissing you and telling you how hot it is when you turn someone to just particles.
george weasley:
-he wants you to teach him everything you can. there are some things that are just simply innate and can not be taught but all your tips and tricks when it comes to fighting will now be all of his tips and tricks. you two would just find some field away from the burrow and go at it, sending spell after spell at each other. georgie is just overflowing with adrenaline and it's a great way to get it out.
-deep down, a part of him wants to be protective of you. he wants to keep you from going out into danger and taking on dangerous tasks all for magic and some old people telling you what to do. but he knows better, trust me. he knows you can defend yourself just fine but he just wants to put you in a little bubble and never let anything hurt you.
-just like ron, he will brag about you whenever he can. everyone is sitting around the great hall table, talking about how it's so cool that you defeated a troll in one fell swoop and he just wraps his arm around your shoulders, a glimmer in his eye as he proceeds to say "yeah, aren't they just so amazing?"
remus lupin:
-fears for your health and safety so much! when you come back from a trial, he's hushing you and putting you in bed, feeding you chocolate and brewing tea until you feel better!! you are bearing the weight of centuries old magic all alone. the least he can do is take care of you!
-supports your decisions throughout your entire journey as a keeper. if you truly believe that releasing ancient magic to the world and using it for more than the original keepers intended, then he understands. if you want to continue to keep it hidden, he will not question your judgement.
-this is so fluffy but i feel like you figured out how to manipulate your ancient magic to floating, bright blue scenes and pictures. around remus's time of the month (said lovingly), you'll lay in bed with him and use your wand to paint pictures of animals, lakes, waves, stars, or, in more sappy moments, your future.
sirius black:
-he thinks it is SO hot that you can take someone down without barely blinking an eye. his favorite move you do is when you lift someone into the air and slam them down repeatedly. gets blushy and turned on excited every time.
-once followed you down into the map chamber only to be very harshly yelled at by one of the keeper's portraits. he just wanted to see what it looked like and to know where you go on dangerous missions!! who can blame him, truly? definitely grumbled the whole rest of the day.
-when you two get married, he refuses to let you take his last name and instead will either take yours or say screw it and come up with one! he doesn't want his family to have the gratification of having a keeper with the black family name. he wants you to shine for who you are and in another century, he wants your name to be yours, not his.
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Snow Lands On Top (2) || Coriolanus Snow x Reader (+18)
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Outline: It’s the first round of the presidential elections and Coriolanus Snow’s results aren’t as good as he hoped. Fortunately, you’re there to give him an outlet for his frustration.
Word count: 3’081
Warnings: pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, very explicit ROUGH smut.
Author’s note: I wrote this as a second part to There Will Come A Ruler, since a few people asked for it. I also wanted to thank you all for all the love I received since I started posting on this page a few days ago, it means the world to me! Still blows my mind that so many people bothered reading what I wrote! ♡
(( Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler )) - (( Part 3 - Insatiable ))
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It only was your second time stepping inside the tall skyscraper that hosted your husband’s office - and headquarters. When the elevator doors opened in front of you, you instantly felt trapped, probably because the lobby was more crowded than what you expected. Even if something inside you was screaming for you to turn around and run the other way instead of losing yourself in this den of vipers, you had no choice but to do what duty required of you. You plastered a smile on your face, the one too bright and too joyful to let how miserable you really felt show, and entered the crowd, recognizing some familiar faces and greeting strangers pretending you also knew who they were. If they had been invited today to Coriolanus’s office, it meant they were important to him so you had to consider them as important to you as well.
“Hippity hoppity, there you are, little dove.” A voice sounded behind you. You heard it as clear as day despite the ambiant noise all around you, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. You turned to face who it belonged too, smiling even brighter to conceal the uneasiness you always felt around such an eccentric character.
“Volumnia Gaul, it’s good to see you again.”
“It’s been too long. But I suppose you’ve been quite busy trying to fulfill your duties.” She said, throwing a knowing glance down to your stomach.
“Of course, there’s never a dull moment since I became Coriolanus’ wife.” You smiled, in yet another attempt to conceal your lies. You had been miserable and bored during most of the year you’ve been married, and although you were good at acting by now, the way Dr Gaul stared at you made you feel like she was seeing right through you.
“You should bring her to the front, people need to see you together.” She said, looking up to someone behind you.
You felt him before seeing him, his hand finding the small of your back and his tall frame appearing next to you, your shoulder brushing against his side. You lifted your gaze up to look at your husband, but he didn’t look down at you, focusing his attention on his mentor instead, the only thing letting you know that he had noticed you was his hand pressed against your lower back.
“Of course.” He agreed, with a nod. Dr Gaul’s eyes landed on you once more, something unsettling in the way she suddenly stared at you.
“My offer to examine her still stands, if you want me to run a few tests on her and figure out why you haven’t conceived yet.”
Your blood went cold. Everybody knew how deranged Volumnia Gaul could sometimes be, she was as cruel as she was extravagant and it only seemed to get worse the older she got. She had left her place as the head gamemaker of the Hunger Games to Coriolanus and had retired from her scientific career, but she still ran bizarre experiments in her lab, for her own enjoyment… And you definitely didn’t want to be one of them.
“It won’t be necessary.” Your husband assured her, allowing you to breathe again with relief. “It’s not her fault but mine, I’ve been too busy with the games and my campaign to properly invest time into expanding our family.”
Dr Gaul was about to reply something but was cut off by the sound of the television increasing in the speakers. Coriolanus guided you in front of the large window in his office’s lobby, as everyone seemed to step out of your path.
He was smiling, handsome as ever in his dark red suit and you smiled too, pressing yourself closer to him when you noticed the cameras filming you from across the room. It must have been a perfect picture to showcase to the entire nation, a seemingly loving couple standing in front of the nicest view of the Capitol, surrounded by all their supporters as the reporters on TV were about to announce the winner of this round of the elections.
All eyes were on the television as the results appeared on the screen. You held your breath, waiting for Coriolanus’ percentage to go up but it only did a brief jump and then stopped, largely losing to his opponents. You turned to look at him, waiting for a reaction, and so did everyone else present in the room.
True to himself, he held his head high, standing even straighter as he remained stoic, not a single change of the expression on his face to betray his disappointment. But, even if you couldn’t say that you knew your husband that well, you still knew that he must have been crushed by such a bad result. He had worked so hard for this, put up such a show for the people and so did you, his defeat felt like your own.
It startled you when you felt his fingers digging into the tender flesh of your hip. He was tense, you could feel it , but he was still smiling at the crowd, gracious in defeat. He even spoke a few words, only disturbed for a brief second when he noticed the cameras packing up instead of transmitting his speech, the viewers probably more interested in hearing what the victors of this round had to say rather than listen to your husband.
Coriolanus kept his tight grip on you, as if holding you was the only thing that could keep him from snapping. Some of his supporters came to him to offer him some words of encouragement in replacement of congratulations and he handled each conversation with polite manners.
“At least if you don’t win, we get to keep you as head gamermaker.” One lady said, trying to highlight the good in the situation but Coriolanus only gave her a tight smile in return.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out but maybe it just shows you’re better at working on the Games, they’ve been delightful to watch ever since you took over.”
“At least if you don’t have to keep campaigning you can focus your efforts on the next Hunger Games and come up with a show even better than last year’s !”
The very reason of his bad ranking at the election kept being thrown to his face, people simply preferred him as a game maker, so that they could be sure to be entertained by Coriolanus’ genius ideas to make the show an annual event rather than see him becoming president and be bored in front of their television once a year. The other thing that didn’t work out for him, as you understood, was the fact that he didn’t seem as relatable to the people since he didn’t have a family to care for and protect while his opponent, Festus Creed, already had three kids with his wife Persephone. Maybe they loved each other…
Once people were done offering their sympathy, you felt Coriolanus’ warm hand leave you, your skin a bit sore from the intensity of his previous grip on you. He rushed through the crowd, even ignoring a man who tried to address him and went to his office, shutting the door behind him.
Nobody seemed to notice, nor care, that your husband had felt the need to isolate himself but you did for some reason. Maybe it was because you knew how hard it was to keep smiling and nodding at everyone when deep down you just wanted to scream and run away. In the crowd, you met Dr Gaul’s gaze who had also noticed, watching you with careful attention, as if she was waiting to judge the way you’d react.
So of course, you smiled. At her. At everyone.
You followed the same path as he did, stopping by the man who had attempted to speak to him so that he could speak to you instead and maybe ease off his vexation at being ignored by your husband. As hard as it may be to keep going once the facade of perfection crumpled, it was necessary - now even more than before - to make sure all his allies continued supporting him.
Once he seemed satisfied by the small talk you shared, you kept moving, trying to seem as relaxed and detached as you could, until you had the opportunity to slip inside the office, mostly unnoticed by the crowd still mingling in the lobby.
“Coriolanus, I…” You started but stopped yourself when you noticed all the files scattered on the ground. Your husband was leaning over his desk, his back turned to you and you could see him breathing deeply and rapidly, his shoulders moving up and down with tension.
Suddenly, he threw the remaining of what was on his desk down, with one long motion. More files flew up in the air before landing on the ground, a glass container of pens and pencils broke on the wooden floor and shattered to pieces, flying off in every direction like a tiny bomb explosion. His desk light also tumbled to the floor, making a noise you were sure others had heard too.
You had the instinct to take a step back, your hand finding the knob again in order to retreat far away from his wrath... But, when he buried his face in his hands, he suddenly felt a lot less threatening and a lot more vulnerable, making you decide to stay.
“You might have lost this time but maybe it’ll work out next time.” You told him, softly. You wanted to comfort him, as had everyone else already, but the way he dropped his hands and looked at you with a dark glare made you question your decision.
“Always so positive.”He stated, bitterly, as if he was disgusted by your hopefulness. It wasn’t often that you got to see him without a charming smile on his face and a confident posture, in fact, it was the very first time you had been able to read him so easily, his emotions on display exactly as he was feeling them.
“It’s just one set back, for now they think you are too young, too good at your job, but maybe you’ll be elected next time. Maybe it’ll be in ten years. Maybe in thirty. But you will be president.” He shook his head, a cynical smirk on his lips.
“What makes you so sure ?”
“… Because Snow lands on top.”
His eyes darkened and he launched himself at you, crossing the path between the two of you in rapid strides so that he could capture your lips in a ferocious kiss. It left you breathless for a moment, the way his mouth was covering yours with feverish kisses, his arms around your waist to pull your body against his.
It was your second real kiss. Only the second one since you considered that your marriage had been sealed not with a kiss but with a signature at the bottom of a contract.
You pressed your forehead to his, trying to create some distance between you so that you could catch your breath and attempt to have a coherent thought about what was happening but he didn’t let you, giving you one last consuming kiss before his fingers tangled with your ponytail and he pulled, hard enough to force you to your knees in front of him.
You kneeled, looking up with expectant eyes. It was his way of showing you what he needed. He wanted to be revered, to get rebels to bend the knee in front of him, to be worshiped and relived from the anger and frustration he always locked up inside himself, with no way of letting them out.
You reached for his pants, swiftly undoing them with your eyes never leaving his pale blue ones, staring at you with a silent wrath still setting his gaze ablaze. He tugged on your hair again, forcing your chin up so that he could touch your face with his other hand, forcing a thumb passed your lips. He attentively watched you as you opened up your mouth to take it in, gently sucking before releasing it with a soft bite.
You saw him smile at your compliance, even though it was ended by a bold gesture. You were the perfect mix of obedient and fiery to make him lose his mind, and you both knew it.
He reached down to the pants you had opened for him, pulling his already hard erection. You resisted the urge to look at it, remembering how big it had felt in your hand and inside you, worried that his size might change your mind about giving him what he wanted. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed to his as you opened your mouth wide, ready to welcoming him there.
His tip glided on your tongue, his length not even entirely filling your mouth when you felt it hit the back of your throat. He shuddered with pleasure, a soft curse leaving his lips, followed by the sound of your name.
You felt a jolt of electricity in your body, a strange pride warming you up at the thought of pleasing him. You ran your tongue over his tip, tasting the saltiness that was already dripping from him in anticipation of his release. He cursed again and his hand moved to the back of your head, holding you firmly in place as he began thrusting back and forth.
You tried to relax your jaw and breathe through your nose as his hard length slid on your tongue, but when his movements increased in speed and in strength, you felt him reaching deeper down your throat and you couldn’t help but gag, tears welling in your eyes in consequence. But, even though he was still very carefully looking at you, watching the way he was fucking your mouth without mercy, he didn’t stop or slow down, only attempting to have an even firmer grip on you.
Another curse word fell from his lips, betraying how close he was to finding relief but, instead of shooting his load on your tongue as you were expecting him to, he rapidly pulled himself out of your mouth, heavily panting in front of you.
You used this opportunity to catch your own breath and wipe the mascara stains under your eyes, feeling the soreness of your lips caused by the unforgiving friction he had created.
“Get up.” He demanded, which made you realize he had let go of your hair. You obeyed without hesitation, even taking a step closer to be in his reach again. He immediately took advantage of the proximity, roughly pulling your dress up above your hips and bringing his hand to your center, pulling your panties aside so that he could run a finger across your soaked folds. A satisfied grin appeared on his face, as he removed his hand and brought his finger to his lips, tasting you with a hungry gaze.
You felt your whole body buzzing with excitement, your eyes following the path of his tongue as he licked his lips, seemingly enjoying what he had just tasted. You were so ready for him, you would have begged if he asked you but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t ask for anything, he just took whatever he wanted, the way he wanted… And at this very moment, you couldn’t have been more okay with it.
His hands came to your bare hips and flipped you over so that your back was turned to him. Then, he pushed on your lower back, silently instructing you to bend over for him, which you did.
“Hold on tight.” He advised, his voice low with lust. You looked for something to do so but only found a tall bookshelf in front of you. You still gripped the sides of it, knowing it wouldn’t help you that much but you could already feel him pulling your panties to the side again.
Without a warning, he shoved himself inside you and you welcomed him, your wetness allowing him to slide all the way in with his first thrust. You bite your lip to avoid letting out a moan, very aware of the noise and chatter still coming from right behind his office door.
He completely pulled out before slamming inside you again, burying himself as deep as he could and you loudly gasped. He adjusted your position with a hand on each of your hips, gripping you so hard it was almost painful but you understood why once he repeated his action, thrusting so hard you would have lost your balance if he wasn’t helping stabilize you.
“Come on, let me hear the lovely sounds you can make.” He requested, mercilessly repeating the same movement.
“I can’t… They’ll all hear us…” You panted, a strangled moan catching in your throat when he hit deep, exactly where you needed him to.
“Good, I want them to know I’m fucking my wife.” He breathed, clearly enjoying himself too. “Show them you are mine.”
You felt dizzy at his words. Or maybe it was from the intense pleasure building up at your core. A few more of his rough thrusts and you came undone, loudly expressing your bliss as he released himself deep inside you. You both stayed connected for a moment to catch your breath until he pulled out, adjusting your panties and pulling your dress back down before taking care of putting his spent erection away.
You turned around to face him, meeting his gaze and noticing how his eyes had softened, like they had been drained of all the emotions he kept hidden behind them at all times, a clean slate to endure the rest of the evening.
To your surprise, he leaned over to kiss you. Not with hunger this time but with a tenderness you didn’t expect, like he was grateful you had been there for him.
“Was I too rough with you ?” He asked you, in a whisper, almost as if he was ashamed to say it out loud.
“Yes.” You nodded, appreciating the concern that immediately appeared on his face but you reassured him with a smile. “And I absolutely loved it.”
He smiled back, looking at you like he was seeing you in a new light. You weren’t strangers anymore and, for the first time, you were both starting to think that your marriage wasn’t such a fatality after all.
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Previously in this series:
Next in this series:
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slut4thebroken · 3 months
Text
Safe
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader
Summary | Your boyfriend just wants to keep you safe… by any means necessary.
Warnings | Smut, dubcon, attempted? SA (not by Jon), manipulation, walking red flag lol, house wife kink?, praise, painful sex, sub space, crying, dacryphilia, breeding.
Words | 2.3 k
Notes | Finally finished the fic from this lol
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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You were kept properly fed and fucked, what more did you need? 
The first time you asked to leave after partially moving in, he was almost offended. He gave you a short “fine, if you want to put yourself in danger, go ahead” and walked away. You didn’t leave, except to occasionally stop by your own apartment. Usually he'd do that for you though. 
The second time, you didn’t ask, you just brought it up. You wondered what he meant by that. “The world— but especially Gotham— is full of people who want to take advantage of you and hurt you. They see your kind heart as a vulnerability they can exploit. Do you understand?” 
“But.. that’s never happened before?” You said meekly. Despite living in one of the most crime ridden cities in America, nothing bad has happened to you yet— you’ve lived a perfectly average life. 
“You were lucky. But that luck will run out. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” He said, gently brushing your hair behind your ear. “I care about you too much to do that to you, that’s why I’m not forcing you outside.” The way he twisted his words around to make it seem like he wasn’t forcing you to stay inside was completely lost on you. 
“Oh. Thank you, Jon.”
“You’re welcome, angel. I know it’s scary. Would you like me to help you get rid of that fear?” He cooed, making you blush at the implication behind his words. 
He wanted to be gentle with you… but thinking about how scared you’d look in a situation like that made it hard to control himself. He tried not to get too impatient while he ate you out since he knew you needed the preparation… Once your words were becoming a little incoherent as you begged and pleaded senselessly, he decided you were ready enough. You still struggled to take him, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. You didn’t dare say anything though because of how desperate you were to please him, not wanting to ask him to wait even longer for what he needed. 
“Do you know what those men want to do to a sweet thing like you?” He said, his thrusts slowing into a rocking motion. “They want to take every last ounce of innocence and kindness you may have. And do you know how they’ll do that, my love?” You shook your head, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of his cock inside you. “They’ll fuck every single one of your holes until they either get bored or interrupted. But they won’t be gentle with you, like I am.” The thought of them being less gentle than Jon was almost unfathomable. You whimpered and bit your lip, not wanting to think about something like that. “No..” He chuckled quietly. “Animals like that don’t care about you. You’re just a set of holes to them.” 
“Jon..” You whined, brows furrowing. 
“I’m just trying to help you understand, angel. I’m keeping you safe, why do you always have to question me?” He frowned, making you falter. “I thought you wanted to be with someone who cares about you and your well-being. If you don’t, then maybe we’re not meant for each other,”
“No! No, I- I do want that— want you. I’m sorry for questioning you, Jon. I won’t do it anymore, I promise.” You begged staring up at him through your lashes as your eyes started to fill with tears at the thought of him leaving you. 
“Are you sure, sweetheart? I promise I won’t be mad.” 
“No, I want to be with you. Please.” He wasn’t quiet for long, but it was long enough to make you start rambling out pleas. “I’m sorry for questioning you, I know you’re just trying to keep me safe. Please don’t leave me, Jon.” You whimpered, making him shush you gently. 
“It’s okay, little one. I’ll stay and keep you safe, don’t worry.” 
To really drive the point home, he staged something. He asked you to go to the store for a few things since it would close before he could get off work. You were on your way back, almost to the apartment building, when someone grabbed you, dragging you back into an alley. The bag fell to the ground and he roughly shoved you against the wall, covering your mouth when you started to scream. He pushed you into the wall with his body, his bulge digging into your hip, and as he started ripping off your clothes, all you could do was cry. You didn’t know how else to react. 
Your shirt was discarded to the floor and when he started forcing your bra off, you tried to put up a little bit of a fight, but he just grabbed your neck and slammed your head into the wall. You whimpered at the pain, hands going limp and dropping to your sides. He finally removed the garment and you barely registered the cold air on your nipples. 
“Yeah, look at how fuckin hard they are— You like this shit, don’t you?” He asked smugly, making you shake your head, but you immediately stopped when your vision started spinning. “I bet this pussy’s wet too.” He pushed your skirt up, then roughly cupped your sex over your underwear, making your cries turn into violent sobs. 
“Hey!” His body was suddenly gone, making you collapse to the floor. “Angel?” Your head snapped up once you registered his voice. 
“Jon?” You whimpered, trying to suppress the sobbing. 
“Shh, it’s okay.” He put your shirt back on, then grabbed your bra and the bag before helping you up. Once you were inside his apartment, the crying came back full force. He hugged you and cradled your head, holding you against his shoulder. 
“You’re okay— you’re safe now.” He whispered, holding you tighter. “I’m so sorry, little one. I should’ve never asked you to do that.” He brought you over to the bed and had you lay down. 
“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice thick with something you couldn’t quite discern. 
“My head.” You whimpered, the pain intensifying now that you were thinking about it. He got up to get you some painkillers and water, then laid down next to you and wrapped you up in his embrace. 
“You might have a concussion, so you have to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” You whimpered and shook your head, feeling so incredibly exhausted. “I know you’re tired, but I need you to stay awake. Can you please do that for me?” You wanted to please him so badly that, despite the fact that you were struggling to keep your eyes open, you agreed. All you could think about was what just happened— over and over again. You let out a choked sob and turned your face into his chest to muffle your cries. 
“I was so scared, Jon.” You whimpered, fisting his shirt to ground yourself. 
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry.” He whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Let me help you forget.” One of his hands started snaking down your back until he reached your hip. He grabbed you hard enough to make you whimper and moved you to lay partially on top of him. “We need keep you awake too.” He said softly. When you felt his bulge against your stomach, your body started trembling even more intensely. 
“I know this may seem hard, but you know I only want what’s best for you. I would never do anything to hurt you, angel.” You nodded with a sniffle and he gave you a pleased smile, then pulled you into a kiss. His hands roamed your body, making you wince when he dragged his fingers over the scratches on your back just a little too hard. 
He quickly removed your clothes and once you were completely undressed, he rolled both of you over and settled between your legs. With gentle hands, he pushed your hair out of your face and wiped the drying tears from your cheeks. You’ve never looked prettier than right now, your eyes glossy and wide from fear, and your lips trembling, staying slightly parted as you took in ragged breaths. 
“My sweet girl.” He cooed. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again. If that means letting you move in with me fully, then I’m more than willing to make that sacrifice for you.” Your bottom lip quivered as you stared up at him with teary eyes, but your expression showed that you still weren’t completely convinced yet. “It’s up to you, darling. Whatever you need, I’ll do it for you.”
“Thank you, Jonny.” You whimpered and he clenched his jaw when you used the name you only use in a certain headspace with him. He always took advantage of these moments. The ones where you were pliant and needy and too dumb to know what you wanted.  
“Of course… I love you so much, little one.” Your cheeks flushed and you looked away from him, embarrassed. He knows how those words affect you which is pretty much the only reason he says them. He cares for you obviously— he’d kill anyone who’d lay a finger on you… except the people he hires for that— but he doesn’t love anyone. Not even you.
“I love you, Jonny.” You whined. He leaned down to kiss you as he worked on opening his pants and removing his cock, making you let out a startled moan when the tip brushed your folds. It took a little more force than usual because he’s been hard since he saw you in the alley and he couldn’t give two shits about foreplay right now. When he finally breached your opening, you let out a pained whine that was overshadowed by his groan. 
“Every time feels like the first time I fucked you.” He said through a breath, leaning his head into the crook of your neck as he panted quietly. “So fucking tight and hot and wet… best little cunt I’ve ever felt.” He moaned quietly. 
“Jon…” You whined and he could practically feel the blush on your neck. 
“I’m sorry, angel, I can’t help it. You feel so incredible, you deserve to know how good you make me feel.” He didn’t let you try to respond before slowly dragging his hips back until only the tip was inside, then forcing his cock back in just as slowly. He got lost in the feeling of slowly rutting into you, your whimpers music to his ears as you just laid there and took it. 
“If you decide you want to stay with me, you won’t even have to go outside— I’ll take care of everything for you.” He cupped your cheek as his eyes bored into yours. “All you’ll have to do is clean up around the house, have a warm meal ready when I get home, and take my cock whenever I need. You won’t have to worry about anything else.” He promised. 
You nodded, staring up at him as your bottom lip trembled. He could tell you were still in pain, but you were already fucked dumb enough that you either didn’t feel it or didn’t care. 
“What else did he do to you? Did he touch you?” He rasped, trying not to sound too eager as he snaked a hand down to rub your clit. Your shaking intensified and you let out a quiet whimper as you nodded again. “Where?” You whined and looked away from him. He could tell you wanted to stay quiet, but his tone showed that he was expecting a response. 
“There a-and… my chest.” 
“I’m so sorry, angel… Were you scared?” He was getting close now. 
“Yes.. I thought— I…” You cut off with a strangled sob and he used his free hand to cup your cheek again. Your crying picked back up and tears were streaming down your face, making his cock throb almost painfully.  
“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s over now.” Despite his words, you continued crying. Because it wasn’t over. He knew you weren’t in the mood, but he also knew that you were too stupid to realize that right now. You were too stupid to realize he was just finishing what that man started. 
His hand moved down to roughly grope your tits as his fingers picked up on your clit. You were practically frozen beneath him. You weren’t grabbing his hair or clinging to his shoulders like you normally would. You were just laying there limply, taking his cock like a good little girl should.  
“I’m so close, angel. Just a little longer.” He said through a breath. You were whimpering and moaning quietly because of how rough he was being, and he couldn’t help but smile at how pretty you looked. Your lashes were damp with tears as you continued crying, your brows scrunched together from all of the physical and emotional pain you were enduring… 
With one final thrust, he fully buried his cock inside you and let out a low groan as his head fell downward, resting in the crook of your neck. He removed his hand from your clit and wrapped his arm under your shoulders and head, hugging you tightly, making your whimpers and cries get a little louder. He reveled in the way your body was trembling and the way your cunt was practically suffocating his cock because of how tense you were. Grunting quietly, he rode out the rest of his orgasm, only loosening his grip on your body once his cock stopped twitching. 
“Good girl.” He whispered, placing a tender kiss on your neck. He waited until his heavy breathing returned to a normal level, then pulled back to look at you. “I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you ever again.” He said softly. “I’m going to keep you safe, little one. I promise.” Safe from everyone but himself. 
I edited the taglist post so pls take a look ty <3
(For the record, this ⬇️ is why I’m changing the taglist system lmao. It’s just too much😭 This is going to be the last fic (except ongoing fics) that’ll have a taglist fyi)
Taglist
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throwaway-yandere · 9 months
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FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)
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A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)
Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.
CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.
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Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."
"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.
Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."
Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you. 
The sixth. 
There are only six survivors left.
"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"
You gulped.
The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.  
Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect. 
But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.
“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”
“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”
You gave a short nod of assent.
Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.
It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out.  As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible. 
That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.
A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.
“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.
Senior Faruzan is missing…
Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”
Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”
The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur. 
And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.
The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.
If that's the case, might as well give them a show.
Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.
“Idols first.”
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Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.
There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.
How… How did it come to this? 
You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.
Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.
The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.
Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.
The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.
“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.
“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”
You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it. 
The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor. 
“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.
Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.
You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often. 
… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.
Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone. 
But that’s not the issue right now. 
The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.
You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.
You opened the E-Handbook.
As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.” 
And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.
By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…
… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.
"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"
Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.
Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.
"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."
You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.
You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.
If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…
"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.
You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter. 
"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"
You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words. 
Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.
"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"
"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.
"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."
"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."
Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.
"I… never went to m dorm that night"
"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.
"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."
He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.
"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”
"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.
"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."
"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."
"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara." 
No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…
Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.
In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.
But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince. 
However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.
"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"
"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.
"Yes," Alhaitham said.
Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him. 
Mocking him.
You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.
Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.
After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:
Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.
“Is everyone present?”
Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor. 
There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.
“Very well. We shall begin.”
“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”
The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.
“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.
The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts. 
And that offer is exactly what you need.
“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.
The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.
“I shall allow it.”
“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.
(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)
(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)
You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.
The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.
“Now then, let the class trial begin.”
Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.
“Court is now in session.”
(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)
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mrchiipchrome · 3 months
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Princess Treatment
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W.C. - 2.4 k
a/n: if you've seen this before, no you haven't
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Ever since Ella was little her mum had told her that she had a ‘princess attitude’, that she only expected the best and anything less than that was unacceptable. She was also told that no boy would ever keep up with it, lucky for her, she wasn’t even into boys. 
When you met Ella you were 14, and yet you were already more than a couple heads taller than kids four years older than you. It was no surprise that people were a bit scared of you, tall and rather buff. 
But Ella saw through it all, all the snide comments from the other girls and all the rumors, she saw that you only wanted love from people, to love people just the same as anyone else. So when she started dating you only a year after your official meeting it only surprised the ones still believing the rumors and the ones who were making them up.
Ella was already getting the princess treatment when you were strictly friends, being somewhat of a people pleaser might’ve had something to do with it. But nonetheless she loved you with all your flaws, just like you did her.
The lovey dovey attitude never disappeared, even as you transitioned from being immature teenagers to being mature adults, you were still acting like lovesick teens who just fell in love for the first time. 
And not surprising was that the princess attitude never really disappeared, she was still letting you carry her training bag for her and give her massages. It wasn’t like she demanded you do these things for her, you just did them like you knew exactly what it was that she needed. Though when she was cranky her mood definitely changed drastically, princess behavior turned up to the max.
The only thing that really bothers you about the whole thing is your teammates' excessive teasing. It made you uncomfortable and you felt as though you couldn’t properly express your love for your girlfriend without being ridiculed. Despite the amount of years you’d spent around your United teammates, you were still closed off around most of them, the only exceptions being Alessia, Mary and Ella.
And while the three tried their best to get you out of your shell, it was futile to even try, you could only work and be open with them on the pitch, where you were doing your job.
Your teammates obviously felt your absence, so in an attempt to get you to open up a little, they put team bonding at a bar, thinking that a few drinks would loosen you up. 
———
“How do I look?” It had been a while since you’d been at a bar, and you didn’t exactly know what the latest club fashion was, so instead of overcomplicating it, you just settled on a black button up tucked into navy dress pants and a brown leather belt. 
“You look good enough to eat baby, are you sure we can’t cancel and take the evening for ourselves?” Ella almost had you convinced, but when you remembered exactly how many team bonding sessions you’d missed just because of that reason, you stopped. 
“No, you already know how many team bonding outings we’ve missed, they’re going to think that we’re avoiding them.” Your shorter girlfriend’s hands come up to rest against your chest, her fingers fiddling with the upper buttons of your shirt, popping two buttons open before you take her hands in yours, pulling them up to your mouth, pressing light kisses to the backs of her hands.
“You look so gorgeous my love, but maybe you should go with other shoes? I know how you get after a while of wearing heels.” When she looks up at you with the slightest attitude, the little glare that shines through every once in a while, you put your hands on her waist and pull her body flush against your own. “Or I can stop being an idiot and let you wear whatever you want.” 
Ella hums at your response, lips resting featherlight against yours, her breath ghosting over your lips as she tells you to;
“Wear that navy suit jacket, it’s warm and your arms look nice in it.” And with that she pulls away, frustrated to no end. As you turn around to get the jacket from where it’s draped on the bed, a hand slaps your ass.
“How have I never noticed how good your butt looks in these trousers babe?” The fact that she’s a hundred percent serious is what amuses you, and even though she asked you to, Ella pouts when you put your suit jacket on, apparently not happy to not be able to shamelessly ogle your ass anymore.
“Come on love, Less is outside and I’m pretty sure that she’s going to get the wrong idea if we keep her waiting for too long.” You send the girl a wink before ushering her out of the house with minimal effort. You kept your hand on her lower back, leading her towards the back seat before you took the shotgun seat.
“One more second and I swear I was going to report you two missing.” Alessia rolls her eyes at the two of you, fake annoyance spreading across her face, and you both act like you don’t notice her huge smile.
Arriving at the bar fashionably late, you immediately spot the huge group of women standing around the bar, seemingly ordering their drinks. Ella pulls your hand to go in their direction, your feet drag against the floor in reluctance.
You listen as your girlfriend and your best friend greet the women, the best you can come up with is a meek wave. 
“A coke please. Oh and just make the sweetest and fruitiest drink you can for my missus.” Your teammates look on in confusion and slight disappointment as you order a nonalcoholic drink for yourself. It was clear that they barely knew anything about you, you weren’t a big fan of the taste or the loss of basic cognitive function.
“Y/n is our designated driver, me and Less are planning on letting loose tonight.” Ella answered their unasked question, the team nodding in disappointment.
Finding a booth big enough to fit the whole team, Ella immediately settles herself on your lap as soon as you sit down, your ice cold cola being set down on the table in favour of wrapping your arms around your soon-to-be fiancée’s waist, your hands setting in her lap. 
Everyone settles into comfortable conversations with each other, you’re content to listen to the voice of your girlfriend and Alessia, tracing shapes into her thigh and taking a swig of your now nearly flat and room temperature cola. 
“Baby, my feet hurt.” Ella stops her conversation to tell you, the tight shoes squeezing her and the high heel likely poking against her heel.
“I told you this would happen, my love.” You tell her lowly, acutely aware of a majority of your teammates' eyes on you, seemingly more engaged in your conversation than their own.
“No you said ‘I know how you get after a while of wearing them’ you never told me what would happen.” Your girlfriend sasses back, saying it as if it were fact.
“Alright, then we’ll do the usual?” Ella gets up from your lap to undo the straps of her shoes as you undo the knot of your laces, sliding your shoes off your feet and onto hers. They were a few sizes too big, despite Ella being known as the bigfoot of the team, and as she settles back onto your lap, most of your teammates look on in some sort of shock.
“Did Ella just extort you out of your shoes Y/n?” Maya asks, like she wasn’t familiar with your girlfriend’s attitude. Being put on the spot like that makes you more than uncomfortable as you shift in your seat, thankfully your slightly tipsy best friend notices it and helps you out.
“Have you seriously not noticed Ella’s obvious princess attitude? God, where are you when Y/n’s away and I have to deal with it.” Alessia joked with the younger girl, teasing her about her ignorance towards her friend and national teammate.
“So you just do what she asks you to?” Millie asks, and you look at her nonchalantly.
“I mean, yeah, pretty much. Ella deserves everything in this world and if I can give her even a fraction of that then I’ll do whatever she needs me to.” You answer sincerely, there was nothing to lie about there, she was your everything. It wasn’t like they would remember it in the morning either way, they were all pretty wasted.
“Awww baby, you never told me that. I love you so much.” Ella smothers your face in kisses, seemingly forgetting the bright red lipstick she’d put on earlier. The red lip marks nearly blend into the skin of your face as you blush heavily at her actions, face closer to a beetroot than anything even remotely human.
“I think it’s time to round off the evening now before poor Y/n gets an aneurysm.” The women around the table laugh at your now significantly drunker best friend, both the blonde and the brunette being wasted by now.
Getting Alessia to pick up Ella’s shoes, you steal yours back for a more comfortable fit, Ella sneaking your jacket from its place on the chair. Turning back to see Ella basically drowning in the fabric of your jacket might be one of your favorite sights ever, she was just too adorable. 
Your hands slip around the back of her knees, the other clutching closer to her rib cage as you carry her in a bridal grip. Ella runs her hands over your flexed muscles, whistling to show off how impressed she was. Another dark blush covers your face at her drunken actions, clutching on to her legs a little tighter in an attempt to expel the embarrassment.
Ella keeps on babbling about nonsense as you bring her out to Alessia’s car, the blonde herself stumbling around behind you. She’d given you her car key at the start of the night to keep safe, and you had to shift your grip on the midfielder to be able to unlock the car.
Slinging Ella over your shoulders haphazardly, you make sure to keep a secure grip around her thighs in order to not drop her. Alessia giggles at the squeal escaping your girlfriend’s mouth, sounding almost like a creaky door.
When the car is unlocked, you carefully open the door and make sure you don’t bump the midfielder’s head, buckling her in and ignoring the way her hands travel over your body like they would at home. Making sure that her hands are inside the car so that she doesn’t get hurt when you close the door, you quickly move towards the passenger door, making sure to open it for the blonde. You were a gentlewoman after all.
After helping both the girls to buckle in, you finally get in the driver's seat, ready to transport both of them back to your house. 
They talk absentmindedly during the whole ride, light music floating through the air in its soft glow. Every once in a while you feel Ella’s hand moving up and down your bicep, seemingly entranced by the muscle. 
“Girls, we’re home. Less, the guest room is ready for you and there’s a pair of pajamas on the bed. I’ll come up with some paracetamol for you tomorrow, trust me you’ll need it.” The girl laughs at your words, exiting the car and walking up the driveway to the door of your house. 
You exit the car as well, unbuckling your girlfriend’s seatbelt and throwing her over your shoulder again. Alessia doesn’t seem to mind the wait, standing in front of your door calmly, picking at her nails.
When the click of the door being unlocked echoes through the calm night you rush into the house, leaving Alessia to close and lock the door behind you.
The blonde utters a quick goodnight before leaving you to walk up the stairs to your bedroom, the guest room on the bottom floor of the house. Ella grumbles when you place her back down on the floor, her feet likely aching still from her high heels.
“How about you take my advice next time, pretty girl? No stilettos okay.” Ella nods a little, her body swaying in an unstable way due to the alcohol still rushing through her veins, leaning against your body as you try your damned hardest to unzip her dress and get her into a comfortable pair of pajamas. 
She’s basically half asleep when you slip the oversized t-shirt over her head, the material reaching just above her knee. Pulling her into the bathroom, you make sure to brush both her and your teeth extra carefully, both of you having had sugary drinks that night.
You lift Ella up to sit on the bathroom counter as you get a makeup wipe out of her bag, carefully swiping it over her entire face, over her eyes and lips, all around her face. When you’re done, she puckers her lips for you to kiss, and when she tries to deepen the kiss even more, you pull away.
Taking out another makeup wipe from her bag, you pass it over your face, wiping away the red markings on your face. Ella frowns as her artwork is removed from your face, her pout quickly being kissed away.
Leading Ella to your bed, she quickly gets under the covers and then gestures for you to get in with her. She quickly forgets all about getting you under the covers when she sees you unbutton your shirt, mesmerized by the muscles of your stomach and arms. 
She gets up from the bed to run her fingers over them again, seeing goosebumps forming under her nails. But just as quickly as the naked skin appears, it gets covered back up again by a t-shirt, the shorter girl seemingly very disappointed with that.
She grumbles all the way until you’ve slipped in behind her in the bed, pulling her frame into yours. It fits yours like a puzzle piece, nothing more, nothing less.
Like always, Ella falls asleep in your arms rather rapidly, her drunken state impairing her ability to stay awake.
In the end, Ella’s mum had been completely wrong, she had found someone who willingly put up with her princess attitude.
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