#Rare breed coffee

[rarebreedcoffee]

Unlike coffee snobs, we’re coffee lovers who believe in making specialty coffee approachable and fun without compromising quality. Join us in rebelling against boring coffee!

#Rare breed coffee #premium coffee #coffee beans #fresh roasted coffee beans #cafe consulting

[nkogneatho]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

—a/n: ngl i cooked. overcooked even, so imagine some of the nastiest shit, this has it all. if i studied this much in my exams i would have a higher CGPA. anyways. hex codes are given. hope you like it.

—cw: dick+pubes+balls+cum analysis (kill me pls), monsterfucking in sukunas, creampie and breeding, never heard phrases from my dicktionary, not proofread plus it's 4 am i am half asleep

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

code: length: #ffe8d6 , tip: #f2aab7

We all know it. King of long dick. okay but no fr he has the longest dick in jjk. but let's get to the details. so size?? a whopping 7 inches. but you know his dick does this thing that when it gets hard, it curves slightly so hey!! maybe the true size is 7.2 or something. about color...his cock has the same color as his normal skin tone but as it approaches to the tip, it falls under a blushing pink gradient. and god his tip is so pink when he's hard, it feels likes all the blood in his body is settling there. his pubes hmm? white bush. he does trim it tho. but c'mon man!! it's gojo satoru we're talking about. he gets off seeing your nose rubbing against his white trim when you deepthroat him. also it's very rare for people to deepthroat him because as i said, longest dick. which is why when you actually manage to take him all the way in, the rare feeling of the throat sucking in has him shooting his translucent load down your throat. how does his cum taste? slightly sweet. duh. he's a sweet tooth and the reason he doesn't get diabetes is because all the sugar goes into his semen.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

code: length: #ad8272 , tip: #875f54

*long inhale* bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock bigfatcock. incase i wasn't clear. he has a BIG FAT FUCKING COCK. he has the cock of our dreams. his size is long and girth is thick asf. length would be about 6.8 or 6.7. well about the girth...3.5 inches. yeah. good luck sucking that in your hole lmao. let's get to the tone. his cock has much darker color than his body. he has one of those milktea brown cocks. and the cockhead is even darker like coffee. oh wait! the cockhead. right. so hear me out. DID YOU KNOW HE HAS A FAT MUSHROOM TIP? the kind that is so thick that it gets lowkey stuck in your hole when he pulls out. my man has to tell you to breathe and relax so he can get it out. about his balls, bitch they're as the same size as big lemons. like you know why he wears those baggy bottoms otherwise everyone would see those nuts easily. they're not even nuts. nuts are dry. his have so much cum inside that if he doesn't shoot his load in you or on you once a day, they'll actually explode. cum taste? i said it before here but incase you're new here, it tastes like if someone put a little lemon and msg in thick and creamy alfredo sauce. bye.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

code: length: #c99a89 , tip: #fcd7ca

*evil laugh* i am not holding back on him but hear me out. HORSE COCK. have you seen it?? it's like curvy girthy cock. me thinks he has long hair and broad shoulders. and have you seen his hands??? it all sums up. isn't as long as gojo but god that meat is fat as fuck. his size has to be around 6 inches and the girth from a 2d angle is about 2 so i found the pythagorean theorem of his cock which is like 6.324 inches. so his tip starts at like 5.324 inches. about the tone...his dick starts darker—or maybe it's cuz of his pubes—at the base but as it reaches towards the head, it blends into the color of his skin tone. geto likes to clean shave sometimes but you know when he saw you drooling over his happy trail when he came out of the shower with a flimsy towel wrapped around his body, yeah he couldn't get that drooling expression of yours out of his head. so he trims it to the length that wouldn't get in the way and is easy to keep it clean but also enough to make you salivate. his balls are very similar to a fig in shape. aren't really fat but they grow hella tight when he is close to cumming. the taste of his cum is sour. i am telling you. like not too sour but it sorta has the acidic taste to it. but nonetheless it tastes good on your tongue. on his too, when he kisses you after shooting a load in your mouth

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

code: length: #e8cca9 , tip: #b59267

chooo choo mfs. i am about to go off. dw i won't slander him, he has already suffered enough. #justicefornanami but anyways back with my girthy cock agenda. now listen. he is not long. i mean he has an average size but the girth??? sheesh! that makes up for it. his length has to be like 5.8 or max to max 6 though gotta love that 4 inches girth, big fat meat, exceeeding half the size of his length. now if you don't understand this concept in numericals, let me indulge you in a scenario that might help. imagine him coming home frustrated from work and all he needs is a warm shower. but there you are all slutty in your outfit and all he wants to do is blow your back out. so he gets hard...like really hard. and it's so painful for his cock to stay put under all those layers of cloth that if he doesn't free it, it will tear it's fat way out. so when he finally decides to unbuckle the belt, pull his undies down with the waistband, his cock jumps out and slaps against his shaved pelvis. so loud that you can hear it over the noise of the tv. now you get it? no? okay hear this one. when he wears an underwear coming fresh out of the shower, his dick takes up about the area similar to a size of a bowl. about his tip, he has a fat tip bruh. not too fat because the base is much thick but yeah. now time for the taste, mixture of citrusy and salty. like when he cums in your tongue it has that salty flavor but the after taste is sweeter and falls more of the citrusy side. maybe like a tangerine. wow i really went off. apologies everyone.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

code: base: #805149 , length: #f5d7c6 , tip: #edc8bb

i am in my monsterfucking era so this is gonna be monster kuna. so we all know four arms, two dicks yada yada yada but did you know sukuna has a special ability?? like we all know he can summon his mouth anywhere but did you know he can summon his dick too? anywhere on his body. he does this thing where if you act too bratty, he'd throw his palm your mouth and you'd think he's just blocking your voice but this mf pops out a whole ass 8 inch monster cock in your mouth that has you gagging and choking, eyes rolling back. *728 dead. 263 injured* there's no size for kuna since he can adjust the size but if we're talking tones, the base of his cocks (wow. plural. would you look at that) have reddish undertone. like tomato red but the actual dickbod has like peachy pink color. his cockhead is long and kinda blends into the length. his cum tastes bitter and sour. not repellent but the taste is still strong. don't underestimate this man though. he'll rip your holes apart yet have you begging him for more. that's what simply is the power of the king of curses. he has you compelled. but i gotta give it to sukuna fuckers. y'all have some of the strongest pussy/ass.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

code: length: #f2e7c4 , tip: #d6b596

chosito's cock represents a shampoo bottle. now you might ask which one. the retail shampoo bottle that you use as your mic in the shower. he has a pretty and perfect dick. his girth is thick enough for you to wrap your fingers around you and his length enough to fill you up. whenever you stroke his cock, you can't stop looking at it. it just fits right. like it was made for you. so perfect. his size falls under 5.6 to 5.9 inches and the girth is 2.5 inches, so it's like a good ratio. he has an olive undertone and a darker mushroom tip. his pubes aren't trimmed but he keeps them extra clean. you know it because whenever you give him a blowjob and you take him all the way in, there is a floral smell lingering around the area. he doesn't naturally sweat a lot plus he has a very bouncy skin with slightly soft texture so his cock is always pleasant to suck. choso also has very visible veins. and when i mean very...i mean very. like i mentioned his skin has a soft texture so the skin on his length is flimsy and kinda see through. so when you are settled between his legs, stroking him, your eyes are so indulged in watching the blood rush through them and when he cums, his veins start slightly moving and his balls tightens. Oh! Balls. can i say it?? okay i'll say it. Breeder balls. i told you he has a 5.6 inch cock, y'all would have been disappointed. but see the creator of this universe took a few mass off his dick only for it to be filled in them breeder balls. which is why, he cums a lot. when he shoots a load, he almost gives you a facial. his cum is sweet with a metallic taste. but hey! it's a pleasure to swallow his cum. but you know why i compared his cock to a shampoo bottle? it because when he is so horny and hard and you give his base a few big squeezes, he'll spurt out a thick load of cum like your shampoo.

Tags: @bluberrimuffintop @anxious-chick @yuujispinkhair @osamwah @arisaturn @multistan-247 @sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast @mrskokushibo @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi @crescentmoontsuki @dianagracesworld @ariachaos @pu-re-love @trueformsukuna @loyal-to-my-dilf @baizzhu @w0nderbeluga @splatmastr   @vuggevise @makisslut @moonish-en @lufemia @jeanboyjean @marshadowstea @frustrated-kitten @katsukichu @sir-kuroo @aleks-chan @dreadsuitsamus @justiceforquentin @kitashousewife @jiaspoon @sintiva @dawn-bunni @mostlyhornyandsad @dilfslayer3000 @shadowy--night @palebananafury @shutyourwhoremouthbecky @figlia-della-luna @marenalee @aoitoge @lahniu @kayjayxx @seraphinaivy @megumistoehair

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #toji x reader #toji smut #geto x reader #geto smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #choso x reader #choso smut #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #nanami kento x reader #kamo choso x reader

[octoberautumnbox]

The Cute and Caring Noona from Apartment 424

CLC/Kep1er Choi Yujin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, older girl, undisclosed age gap (nothing creepy tho), soft dom Yujin, titsucking, nursing handjob, cowgirl, creampie, breeding, overstimulation a lil bit

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: discordant waltz chapter alr planned out dw i just wanted to switch things up a lil, this was a blast to write :D 

“Hey, so good to see you! Come in!” 

You take off your shoes and Yujin pulls you in for a hug. The aroma of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies fills your nostrils and sends your stomach growling. 

“Hi, Noona. It's great to see you again.” You back away from the hug, but Yujin keeps you within arm's length with her dainty hands on your shoulders. You admire her simple yet adorable outfit, which only compliments her bright personality.

“Take a seat, cookies are still cooling down but dinner is ready!” 

She plops you down at the dining table and sets your plate and silverware. While she buzzes from cupboard to table and back, you draw your eyes from one tiny dish to the next. Kimchi, lettuce leaves, cheese cubes, the works. At the center of the table is a small grill, with a pan sitting on top and evidently expensive cuts of beef like what they go crazy for in variety shows sizzling enticingly. 

You keep from drooling at the last second at the feast before you, and you manage to choke out, “Wow, are we expecting more people, Noona? This looks delicious.”

“No, just the two of us,” Yujin says cheerfully as she places your chopsticks at the right side of your plate. “Too much?”

“Way too much! You really pamper me whenever I come by. Thanks, Yujin-noona.” 

She chuckles cutely while covering her mouth with a finger. “You visit too rarely for a neighbor. Come by more often and I can tone down the food, okay?” 

She takes her seat next to you and squeezes your hand. Skillfully and quickly, she picks up a piece of beef from the pan, a leaf of lettuce, just the right amount of kimchi, a leaf of perilla, and finally a cube of cheese. She presents you with the expertly made wrap and brings it to your mouth, saying “Ahhh.”

~~~

She sets the plate of cookies on the coffee table in front of you as you offer her the other half of the blanket. She joins you on the couch and shuffles right up to you, placing her head on your shoulder and bringing your arm around her. 

The movie starts playing and the necessary studio intro clips crescendo onto the screen. “This is one of my favorites. You'll love it too.” She snuggles more comfortably into your side and sighs a breath of relaxation. Squeeze her shoulder, tell her wordlessly that you're excited to love this movie as well.

~~~

You come to, and groggily you look around. It's of little help, as the TV shut itself off sometime ago and the lights are all out. You feel a shifting weight beside you and your face suddenly fills with a scratchy texture and the sweetest scent you've probably ever smelled in your life, no doubt a faceful of your neighbor’s hair. 

“Yujin-noona, wake up. We fell asleep and the movie's over.” 

You try to shake her awake gently, and it works. Yujin sits up slowly and tries checking the time on her phone. After the initial short-lived blindness, she sets it down and rubs her eyes. 

“It's late. Sleep over. No buts.” Knowing you had no choice, you submit and help her help you walk and stumble yourselves up the stairs and to her bedroom. 

She plugs a star-shaped night light into a low wall socket and the pair of you fall into the bed. You cuddle into her side this time and she graciously wraps you in her arms. The smell of her hair and her bedsheets fill your nostrils again with a calming fragrance.

However, in an act of dastardly betrayal, your brain for whatever reason thinks your sweet beloved neighbor Yujin-noona is… something more. As you take in more and more of her scent, and gaze up from her side to see the way her eyes are shut lighty and her lips are slightly parted as light snores slip through, your heart beats a different rhythm as if just now realizing and admiring the beauty that is Choi Yujin. 

“This can’t possibly be,” you think to yourself, “she’s my neighbor and very close friend. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this.” You continue to fight down your subconscious feelings from bubbling up into your conscious mind, but the fullness of your tummy and the comfiness of the way you’re in bed with her prove it a challenge. 

“Something wrong? What are you thinking about?” You’re taken aback by Yujin’s sudden words. “Are you okay? Tell Yujin-noona what you need.” She rubs her eyes again and meets your gaze. In possibly the worst stroke of luck you could ever have had in this life, as she negotiates her hand back under the covers, she comes into light contact with you in the middle of you pitching a tent in your pants.

“... Oh.” is all Yujin could get out before you turn beet-red and stutter your apologies. 

“Shit, Noona, I’m so sorry! I- I should go- I’m sorry.” Your mind fills with shame at how you’ve ruined such a nice and pure friendship with your lovely neighbor. You try to stumble out from under the blanket, pushing Yujin away, but once again she places her dainty hand on your shoulder.

“Stop that right now. Come here.” Her command is mild but assertive. She lifts up the blanket to welcome you back, patting the space beside her in her bed. You sheepishly rejoin her under the fluffy covers, but before you settle, she makes another set of commands.

“This is my house, so for me to be a good host, you will tell me anything and everything you need. That includes this,” she whispers breathily, palming the growing bulge in your pants, “Most. Of. All.”

You can do nothing but whimper at her unrelenting touch. It doesn’t help that she’s already fiddling with the waistband of your underwear and wrestling it out of her way. What’s worse, your position in bed with her makes it impossible for you to look anywhere but to meet her eyes, or maybe…

“Use your words, baby boy, tell Noona exactly what you need.” An evil grin forms across her mouth, painting her features with a sinister shade of lust. 

“Noona… Could you please…” The words barely struggle out of your mouth, and even then you’re not saying anything of value. Yujin only chuckles more, covering her mouth with one finger, before prodding you incrementally yet ever closer to the edge.

“I can’t read minds, baby boy. You’re going to have to do better than that.” 

“Noona, your… your top, please. Take it off.” Wide-eyed, you watch as she grabs the piece of clothing by the hem and starts pulling up. Her belly button comes into your view as she goes on tantalizingly slowly revealing more of her creamy skin to your hungry eyes. 

The top then clears past her ribs, and she slows down ever so slightly, keeping you on the edge. You choose to relieve some of the pressure in your crotch yourself by stroking your dick to the unbelievably lewd sight, but Yujin has other plans.

“No, bad boy. Only Noona gets to play with that tonight.” In saying so, she lets go of her top, covering everything she showed you so far, to swat your hands away from masturbating. A deep sense of regret fills you, knowing that only you could be blamed for delaying your pleasure. However, Yujin seems satisfied that you learned your lesson and resumes her striptease.

She reaches a critical point in her teasing, bunching up all of the fabric so far right under her boobs. Her nipples poke through the thin fabric, and you fight the urge to just dive into her tits and ravage them to your heart’s desire. She relishes in the burning gaze you’re subjecting her to, as if getting off to being ogled by her neighbor and best friend. She grows a few shades redder in the face to match yours, but ultimately she pulls her top up past her breasts, freeing them and letting them bounce. With the top now only covering her neck and shoulders, she opts to tease you more:

“Like what you see?” she asks sultrily while winking at you. She cups each of her tits with her hands, presenting them to you, and tweaking her nipples to get them hard for you. Yujin takes her lower lip between her teeth, obviously growing more and more aroused at the thought of letting you take her right then and there.

You try to find some spit in your mouth to swallow, but it’s dry as a desert and you’re left breathless instead. You swear that you could just die right there and be happy with the life you’ve lived so far, and with how your noona is treating you, you just might actually pass.

“Baby boy, I’ll say again: Tell Noona exactly what you need.” Her top finally leaves her body and she shows herself off to you. Her fingers snake through her hair and you’re blessed with an unobstructed view of the most luscious tits you’ve ever seen. 

“I want…” You try forcing words out of your mouth again, but Yujin makes the job (and you) so extremely hard. “I want to suck your tits.”

“Not with that attitude, mister. I am your Noona and you will speak to me with respect.” She’s got you now, her deadly scold wringing your neck and cutting off what little airflow your lungs had. You’re left with no choice; submit to her will.

“Yujin-noona, please let me suck your tits, please…” Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, anticipating the imminent pleasure of her boobs on your face. It means the world to you when she places a hand behind your head and pulls you closer.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby boy? Say ahhh…” You follow her command and she gently pushes her left breast into your mouth. Her skin tastes delicious, and her nipple is just the right stiffness to lick and nibble and worship.

She guides you to a more comfortable position, and you find yourself laying down while Yujin is on her side, still with her boob in your mouth, while she pulls your arm towards her right boob to fondle and grope as you please. 

“Is my precious baby boy comfy?” she asks much too cutely for what she’s making you do to her. “Yesh noona, ahm conhfy…” you mutter out with your tongue still wrapped around her nipple. 

“Good boy…” she moans breathily. While you’re taking your fill of her perfect body, she makes her desires known: she wants you too. 

Yujin finds your cock again and strokes it through your pants. “Baby boy, do me a favor, would you?” Her request makes itself apparent with the way she’s reaching under your waistband, and you could do nothing but oblige and strip yourself as quickly as possible of both pants and underwear.

“My perfect baby boy…” Her tone is laced with venom as your musk reaches her nostrils. She places a fingertip on the slit of your cock and spreads your precum all over the head. “What I’d give to do to your cock what you’re doing to my tits right now…”

Her pace speeds up, and while you have half a mind to ask her to slow down, you know you have no right to ask her of that. Instead, you go for the next best thing.

“Yujin-noona,” you surrender, her breast falling out of your mouth and onto your cheek, “could you please let me fuck your pussy?”

She chuckles again, but more evilly this time. “Of course, my sweet baby boy, but you’re gonna have to follow my lead.” 

“Anything for you, Noona.”

She places you properly down onto the bed, making sure you’re comfy, and plants a kiss on your cheek. She forces you to watch, with a hand on your cheek guiding your face, as she peels off her shorts to show you more of her skin: her smooth legs, creamy thighs, and plump ass you now have the pleasure to grope as much as she’s willing to let you. She climbs on top of and straddles you, the large wet spot on her pink-and-white striped panties nearly leaking her juices onto her thighs, before she takes your hard and throbbing cock into her hands again. 

“Will you be my good baby boy, sweetheart?” She spits into her hand and rubs it all over your dick, causing you to groan in pleasure.

“Yes…” “Yes, what, hmm?”

“... Yes, noona, I’ll be your good baby boy…”

“Perfect, just what I wanted to hear.” She pulls her panties to the side and rubs the head of your cock against her soaked folds. The heat radiating from her sex spurs you on even more, the delayed gratification of slipping into her causing your breaths to heave. Yujin takes on sharp inhales and slow exhales as well each time she teases her clit with your head.

Deciding to finish teasing you, Yujin finally gives you what you’re craving. She sinks down slowly onto your cock, making sure to feel every single vein inside her. Her descent is slow and deliberate and you watch as more and more of your length slips past her pussy lips and into her tight cunt.

“Ffffuck, baby boy, you’re going to split me in half with a cock like this…” 

It starts to overwhelm you: the warmth from her slick, the tightness of her cunt, the clenching of her walls against your cock as if desperate for a climax as early as this. You surely want your noona like this for much longer than just a few seconds more, but you’re in absolutely no control at all.

“Baby boy, tell me if you’re close, okay?” You nod furiously, and Yujin drops herself violently onto your crotch, pushing every last inch of your cock into her cunt. “Ah, fuck! Yes, baby boy, fuck me with this thick cock of yours!”

Grab her tiny waist, feel her smooth skin, pull her up ever so slightly. Then, pull her back down onto your dick, feeling her walls clench around you so needily again. The pair of you find a rhythm, and not long after, Yujin herself bounces up and down on your shaft like a pogo stick.

“Shit, baby boy, you feel so fucking good!” She somehow finds little adjustments that push you deeper and deeper into her cunt, and in turn you hit her good spots more and more. It gets progressively more difficult to keep from creampie-ing her right then and there, but you fight for more time to receive her love.

With every thrust into her core, Yujin falters ever so slightly. You notice between her lewd moans and grunts that she’s arching forward, slowly but surely bringing her closer and closer to you. Eventually she gives up trying to stay upright, and she falls forward only to catch herself with her elbows planting deep into the mattress on either side of your head. 

“Tempting, no? Hah, hah, come on, my sweet, good baby boy, give ‘em a little suck.” Barely registering the lewd words coming out of her mouth, you take her right nipple in between your teeth. Tug respectfully, but tug hard. The sensation of your teeth on her sensitive nub drives her insane, bringing her to the heights of her pleasure, and somehow even higher still. She lets you know just how blissful she is with groans and pleas you can’t help but indulge.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me! My god, yes, please, harder,” and many more nonsense filler words spill from her mouth while you fill her cunt again and again and again. The more she rides you, the more her sweet and tight cunt leaks her juices all over her bed, causing the wet spot to make itself known to you once it grew big enough under her. At the same time, you struggle harder and harder to get your own body under control, fighting back your orgasm for just a bit more time with her like this, just a bit more.

“N- Noona, it feels so good, you feel so fucking good on my cock, Yujin-noona…” You’re completely at her mercy, and her mercy is heaven. With every bounce she makes on your cock you grow harder and hornier for her, only to be welcomed into what might be the wettest, neediest, fullest pussy in the world. You can’t get enough of her: not your cock pistoning into her cunt and poking at the entrance to her womb, not your mouth sucking and biting desperately at the flesh of her perky tits, not your hands roaming all over her body and groping every part of her you can. 

“Baby boy, you’re making Noona feel so fucking good too,” she confesses hazily, and only then you notice that her eyes are falling half–shut and her straining to keep riding you. Her thighs are jiggling with her trembling core, and you figure out that she’s been spraying her girlcum all over your crotch for who knows how long now. 

Her pussy only serves your cock so much better now, wetter and slicker and definitely tighter with how her pussy refuses to let you go. The feeling of her hips convulsing against you almost nearly pushes you over the edge yourself, you’re trying so hard to hold off, but she’s so cute and caring, and she’s so fucking hot…

“Noona, I- I’m so fucking close, Noona!” But Yujin is long gone, lost in her continuous orgasm, doomed to keep leaking from her cunt and mouth and riding you without her better judgment to stop. Wherever Yujin is in the confines of her mind must be drowning in pleasure to keep fucking herself on you like this.

You’re gone too, as even though you know it wouldn’t be that hard to pull her tight body off you yourself, you’re completely in love with the idea of cumming just like this. Your cock buried deep inside your friendly neighbor Choi Yujin, who fed you, hung out with you, treated you like a real brother, only to take advantage of her dazed state of mind to paint her velvet walls white with your cum, filling her to the brim with your baby-making seed, subjecting her to the motherhood of your child…

“Baby boy, do it, shoot all of it inside, sweetheart. Fill Noona up. It’s okay.” On primal instinct, you let out a low growl and grip her ass roughly. Only now do you notice how much she was moaning loudly right into your ear, tinnitus ringing a high-pitched and dizzying tone that wouldn’t stop. Your arms and legs burn with how hard and fast you’re manhandling Yujin’s body, fucking her like a wild animal that knew nothing but sex. She hasn’t stopped orgasming, you feel her slick spread more over your crotch. Her elbows finally give out and she collapses onto you, fully vulnerable to you.

“I’m Noona’s good baby boy” is your last thought before your orgasm takes over your mind. Thrust deeper than ever into her core, shoot your seed straight into her womb. Her strained voice makes one final effort to scream her earth-shattering ecstasy as each spurt of your spunk shoves itself into her, eventually forcing her cunt to leak both her and your cum out in globs. You even lose yourself in the throes of pleasure and forget that you might be hurting her; all you need to know is that her body is yours to use and breed as you like. Keep pistoning into her all the while your cock sprays your love deep into her fertile body, one spurt, two, three, five, eight, eleven, before you lose count and just focus on feeling good with your cute and caring noona. 

Once the world stops spinning and calms down, you find yourself dizzy and gasping for air through a dry-as-a-desert mouth. With fatigue plaguing every part of your body, you can’t even find the strength to get into a less uncomfortable position. Your eyes try to drift lazily across the ceiling, getting your bearings, but Yujin has one last command for you.

“My sweet baby boy, you did so well for Noona. Get your rest, baby.” She places her hand on your eyes, pushing them shut. She keeps her hand there, making sure you don’t open your eyes again while you feel her lips planting kisses on your face, trailing a line from your cheek to your neck. Finally, she licks and then nibbles your lower lip lightly, rewarding you for doing such a good job. 

“B-but what about the mess? And you might get preg–” “Shush now, let Noona worry about that, okay? Sweet dreams, baby boy.”

You stand no chance against her; your fatigue takes over your body and the calmness of the air lulls you into a sense of serenity. As the final nail in the coffin, Yujin refuses to get off of you despite your best attempts at pulling out and pushing her off. Without even realizing it, you fall deep asleep amidst her comforting weight, tender kisses, and soft coos.

~~~

a/n: i went into this fic blind actually. only when I was about half done did I think to check if yujin was actually good at cooking at all but turns out shes not :/

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kep1er smut #clc cmut #choi yujin smut

[hazelfoureyes]

Luck (Alastor x Reader smut)

Tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, creampie, attempted kidnapping, justified homicide, mention of the the history of women stabbing men with hat pins, biting, breeding kink if you squint, blood, Luci left on read :(, protective Alastor, cervix bullying, possessive Alastor, outside sex, rough sex, fem reader

minors DNI

This was a two part story, this being part two. But part one just isn’t good enough and I’m tired of waiting lol so here’s the standalone smut, written in a way it can be enjoyed solo

Vox’s ever present eyes noticed a reoccurring face around Alastor, and decided you were an easy way to get under his skin. Alastor manages to find you during the kidnapping but how he finds you sends his gentlemanly resolve unraveling. He had wanted to be gentle, he really had. C’est la vie, hm?

It took nearly 2 months of regular run-ins around Cannibal Town, chats over black coffee and deviled eggs, and some behind the scenes magic by Rosie but you finally enjoyed a dinner with the Radio Demon.

He’d never tell you how he awoke nightly in a panicked sweat, dreams of your soft skin under his nails tormenting him. He had done his absolute best to be just a charming southerner, tiptoeing between flirtatious and polite. Something about asking someone out during the night seemed scandalous and … loaded with implications. But ever since his hands felt your body thrumming beside him during a dance at Rosie’s Birthday Bash in the town square, he felt starved for the opportunity to see you again. You were beautiful in the daylight, yes. But something about the night, the way the shadows seemed to blanket the two of you together, it made him feel wild. He could remember the nights on the prowl during his time on earth, and the rush of being so close to you with so few people around felt so similar.

Rarely did he get a rush of adrenaline anymore, but when you’d shoot a witty retort back at him his heart would balloon against his ribs. The way you looked at him while he spoke, like you were drunk on the sound of his voice, made his fingers tremble. He never wanted anyone to know this, and hoped in some way he’d never have to tell. But then he considered, what face would you make if you ever reached over for his hand across the table? What if you rested your delicate head against this chest and heard the frantic beating? How sweetly would you smile? Smile at him, only?

“Alastor?” You broke him from his trance, noticing the ever so subtle way his smile seemed to loosen around the edges when he was lost in thought.

Dinner was long done, and you’d both managed to stall for a bit as he walked you toward the gates to Cannibal Town. He had insisted he escort you, though he was irked you wouldn’t allow him to wait until your ride had arrived.

If he knew you were staying with Lucifer Morningstar, he’d see you differently somehow. You didn’t want Alastor to think you were chasing powerful men, or to know you slept so close to the King of Hell. Something in your gut said he would find it unattractive.

“Yes, dear?”

You gestured to the gates a couple blocks in front of you, “This is good. You should get home.” Before Luci arrives to take me back to his.

“I intended to take you to the gates.” He looked past you, then back to you. You were so … small in front of him. Not your body or form, just, your existence. So delicate compared to his own strength. The way you looked up at him with your large doe eyes, it practically pained him. You looked so innocent, pure— how he wanted to make your eyes roll as your head lost any semblance of coherent thought. He wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.

“It’s just a couple of blocks.” He lifted his hand to begin to argue, but you cut him off at the head. “Alastor” you said it so softly now, your tone startling him with its gentleness. Had anyone, ever, said his name so sweetly? Since his mother, atleast?

“May I?” You tapped your cheek. His eyebrows rose before knitting together in understanding.

He leaned down and turned his cheek to you. You hummed happily and placed a chaste kiss there. Alastor turned his face toward yours, “In the future, You don’t have to ask for permission, darling.” You tried your best to keep your heart in your chest, and nodded. It was well known he wasn’t fond of physical touch, let alone unexpected touch. Is this how it felt to be an overlord? To claim a piece of someone else, a slice of territory not originally yours? “Two blocks is quite a deal of distance in hell.” He didn’t take his eyes off yours. Your attempt to distract him failed. Of course it did, he was nothing if not persistent.

“I have my weapon.” You lifted the hem of your dress to show a small angelic dagger holstered to your thigh.

“Ah, yes. Ha ha! Some kind of hat pin, I see” His eyes rolled, amused, “Who would dare bother you with such a frightening needle?”

With a glare, you mocked him, “Ha, Ha.” But as you turned to leave you stopped yourself. Every encounter with Alastor felt like it could be your last, as if he’d just disappear entirely. “May I see you tomorrow? I was going to get coffee at Hallowed Grounds around 10.”

“My dear, you couldn’t stop me.” He cooed, “Needle and all.”

“Good night, Alastor”

“Good night.” He didn’t move at first, but after you had made it half way to the gates of what he felt was assured safety, he let himself turn and leave.

His grin touched his ears as he hummed to himself. His cheek felt heavier where you’d kissed him. A part of you lingering with him. How he wanted nothing more than to grab you by the throat and -

An appliance store window filled with various sized TVs flickered as he walked past. Alastor stopped, ears turned down as he turned on the heels of his feet to face Vox’s cocky stare plastered on every screen.

“Oh, it’s you. Don’t you have a curfew? No TV after 9pm, they say. Rots the brain.” Alastor lifted his hand to inspect his nails. Vox had a witty intro planned, and launched straight into it. He only stopped when Alastor looked back up, “I’m sorry, were you speaking?”

The screens glitched and filled with static before Vox’s face stretched out across them all.

“It’s not my bed time you should be worried about.” Vox crooned. He couldn’t resist the urge to prod Alastor, “Perhaps your new friend should have gone home earlier.”

Just before you reached the gates, you stopped to see if Lucifer had replied about his ETA. Your phone slipped out of your hands as someone pulled you backwards into the narrow alley behind you.

A hand covered your mouth while the other arm was lifting you up by your waist. You kicked your feet uselessly trying to make contact with any thing that would slow your progress into the shadows.

Another man entered now in front of you, “You’ve got a meeting at Vee Tower, babe.”

The sound of an idling car in the back of the alley came into focus. You grabbed your knife and plunged it into the right thigh of the man holding you. He dropped you and you barely managed to scramble to your feet before his hand grabbed you by the hair and threw you against the wall. The force of the impact stunned you but you’d managed to keep the knife in your grip.

You’d been waiting for this. You had let men get the best of you before on earth, too scared of dying if you failed to defend yourself. You weren’t scared now. When you looked back at the man, he was shouting at his partner but you couldn’t understand a word. Your ears were ringing, a combined effect of hitting the wall and your skyrocketing blood pressure.

Your shoes slipped off easily and you pushed yourself from the wall and back into the attempted kidnapper, shoulder first.

Seeing you launch yourself onto his accomplice, the other man booked it out of the alley. It wasn’t worth it. This was supposed to be easier than this.

If he had maybe turned left, he would have made it to safety. But luck was with Alastor when the brute ran straight into him.

Your phone lay on the ground behind the man, who was already backing up when Alastor set his eyes on him.

“I’m going to enjoy this”, Alastor’s voice cracked with a static sting, eyes flickered to red dials against midnight black eyes as his back and neck broke and stretched. The man tripped over himself, but Alastor’s hands tore the man’s upper torso from his body before his ass had time to hit the sidewalk.

There was no time to savor the death, he tossed the man’s head and shoulders into the street before bounding with unnaturally wide strides into the entry of the side street.

Never had he known fear like this. Not when alive, not even close. Not even when Adam nearly bested him. There was a rock in his stomach threatening to drag his heart into the gutter of the Pride Ring as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley. Were you still there? Were you still whole?

You hadn’t noticed him at first, not until his massive, looming shadow shrunk across your body. Even then, you hadn’t stopped to realize it wasn’t the other attacker. You continued stabbing the dagger into the man’s throat with both hands until Alastor’s shoe crushed a piece of wayward glass under his step, breaking your concentration. Wild eyes finally tore themselves from the grey flesh of the demon on the floor up to Alastor, still expecting a fight with the man who’d fled.

“Alastor” was all you could squeak out. You were straddling the man by the chest, his throat so thoroughly decimated his head held on by just a few loosened tendons. The white dress you’d worn specially for your dinner was soaked through with blood. Your hands red to the wrists. Your lips and cheeks splattered. Your feet dirty and bare.

You yelped as you were yanked off of the dead man by your chin, Alastor’s large hand holding you off the ground. You were finally eye to eye with your dinner date. For the second time that night you were thrown against the cold brick wall. Alastor’s free hand grabbed yours that still held the knife and repeatedly bashed your fisted hand against the wall until the knife fell from your grip to the street below you. You hadn’t meant to keep it, never meant to brandish it at Alastor. Your survival instinct had overridden your sense.

Perhaps it would have stayed in control, but when Alastor’s hand slipped to your throat and his lips crashed into yours your mind went blank.

He kissed you clumsily, this wasn’t a man in love, or even a man in lust. This wasn’t a man at all. A demon in need was bruising your lips against his teeth. When you didn’t immediately open to receive him, he used his free hand to push at your cheeks and press inward where your bottom jaw naturally met your top. Your mouth was wrenched open, allowing his long and wide tongue to bully your own.

Alastor felt frenzied, the sight of you manically stabbing the already dead attacker momentarily broke him. His sweet little doe, his innocent and gentle darling brutally murdered a man and he got to witness it with his own eyes. He never believed God ever noticed his existence, but the moment he saw you straddling that corpse he felt sure some higher power delivered you to him. Just for him.

Only for him.

Pretense and facade be damned, you were made for him in such a specifically demented way.

He lifted you up, pressing your body against the wall with his own as your legs wrapped around his hips. He didn’t know where to start, he couldn’t keep his hands from trembling as he smeared the blood over your cheek between hurried kisses. His eyes were aglow, keeping your focus on him and only him as they darted around your face taking in every detail, every errant drop of your attacker’s blood.

Alastor buried his head into your collarbone, sucking bruises and nipping cuts into your exposed skin. You could feel the strained erection in his pants, it helped keep you balanced against him and the wall. He seemed to be mindlessly grinding his clothed cock against your core. Your dress had naturally found its way up and over your hips as he let one of his hands cradle your ass.

He had half a mind to rip the dress off of you but as he took a second to look down at your body he knew he wanted to keep it. The dress his love first killed in. Love— before a word that fell weightless from his tongue now sat heavy in his thoughts. He wanted your blood stained dress stuffed in his mouth as his last meal. An ode to your corruption. Maybe you'd understand him now, better than most. Did you enjoy it when you stabbed that man?

Breathing ragged and uneven, he pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes were glowing red, pupils dark black pins.

Did it scare you, when you killed him?

Were you scared now?

He lurched you upward again, hands coming to either side of your head as he pulled back to look at your face properly.

“If you don’t want this, now is your only opportunity to stop me.” He closed his eyes to try and regain an ounce of composure. Perhaps a small human piece of him not wanting to see your face if you denied him this.

With every breath he seemed to be taking in your scent, his hips still gently pushing into you. Your eyes darted to the well lit street just beyond the dark of the alley. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your fingers scratch lightly at his undercut. He violently shuddered at the touch.

You shook your head imperceivably to most, “You don’t have to ask me for permission, darling.”

With that, Alastor came completely undone. As his teeth marked your neck with shallow tears, his hand tore the crotch of your panties entirely off, leaving just the lace waistband to slip up your stomach. With the speed of a starving man to his first meal, his cock was free of his pants and rutting against your exposed slit.

The head of his member was pushing against your clit in unpracticed thrusts, slipping between your lips and pressing at your entrance. With a growl he lifted you up more and angled your hips to him. He didn't wait to feel if he was lined up and he sunk into your heat with a single thrust. You winced, clutching onto his shoulders. His eyes saw the pained expression and for a second, just barely, the southern gentleman who tried to walk you home slipped back to the surface. But as quickly as he came, he was lost again as Alastor saw the way your mouth hung open, tongue hanging over your swollen lip.

A static shock nipped at your wrists where they met his neck, "Such a debauched look, mon cher. I haven't even begun to ruin you yet."

A moan slipped past your lips as he brought his mouth to your ear, tugging with his teeth as he thrust back into you. You could feel he hadn't bottomed out yet, but already he was crushing your stomach into your diaphragm. Your chest began to feel hot, a warmth trickling down to your stomach and pooling beneath your belly button.

Ad his breath ghosted along your neck, you could hear it sharply spike with every slam of his hips against yours. Something about seeing him losing composure, hearing him so vulnerable, spurred you to roll your hips against his cock.

"Mmmm," Alastor groaned, "Don't push your luck, dear. Do you know how precarious of a sit-"

You did it again.

He pulled out of you with one motion and flipped you around. Your hands were yanked behind you, the long fingers of one of his own hands intertwined with your wrists. His other hand lifted your knee up and out as he pushed back into you. The new position allowed him to reach deeper than before, and with a burning stretch you felt him finally bottom out. With each thrust, the head of his dick dragged inside of you. The new angle allowed him to smash into your g-spot with every slam into your heat, his balls tightly slapping against your wet cunt.

"I wanted to be gentler with you", He leaned his head against your shoulder, pace quickening. It felt as if your back would snap in half, "But you looked absolutely sinful covered in his blood." His lips grazed your ear as he let go of your wrists, his antlers now large enough to be scraping against the bricks above your head. The loss of him holding you made you lose you balance. Alastor took the opportunity to find your clit with his middle finger.

Biting down on your lip you broke the skin, trying to suppress the moan rising out of you. His hips kept a bruising pace, your ass smacking against his lower stomach with every thrust. You didn't want anyone, anyone to find you getting railed against a wall just outside of cannibal town.

His fingers forced past your lips, you hadn't noticed he was using a shadow tendril to now lift your knee to nearly touch your elbow. Two fingers pressed down on your tongue as his pace impossibly quickened.

You wanted to lick or suck at his digits, do anything to participate in this alleyway fucking, but it became clear Alastor didn't want you to do anything at all. He was lost in the pleasure of your pussy clamping down on him, pushing back against him with every intrusion. He just needed you to exist there around him. He needed you to take him, for your body to welcome the gentle abuse.

The pressure began to build as the reality set in that the Radio Demon was fucking you raw against a wall. You felt your orgasm winding up. The infamous Alastor, the mighty overlord, balls deep in you. So entranced by your cunt he could only groan and hiss against your ear. You could feel every centimeter of him pulling and pushing inside of you, his head smashing your cervix and uterus into your guts.

Your hands began to slip down the wall as your mind started to go fuzzy around the edges. His middle finger strumming at your sensitive clit with a new fervor, his thrusts becoming shallower. The radio in the assailants idling car roared to life, flitting through stations and static wildly as Alastor spoke to you.

"When you orgasm,” His voice crackled against the nape of your neck, "and your cervix lowers to receive my seed,” your knee was dropped as he fucked you flush against the wall, trapping your body there, "I will drown your needy cunt in my cum, darling." His words echoed through the car's radio and off the walls of the alley, volume peaking with a pop as the speakers blew out.

The tickle of his lips along your spine made you shudder, and you went limp as you let your mind go and allowed your body to spasm around him. As your orgasm hit, your stomach muscles cramped and your body tightened around Alastor's cock. He hissed, his hips losing their rhythm for a second as you almost painfully clamped onto him, cunt trying desperately to pull him deeper into you. He needed to slow down or else he’d be pushed into his own release sooner than he planned. As your orgasm waned and your pussy squeezed softly against him again, he renewed the rhythm. Your body had gone entirely slack, your limbs no longer able to receive messages from your brain.

Within seconds, Alastor thrust against you so forcefully you felt the air pressed out of your lungs. He buried himself in you, holding your hips flush against his as you instinctively tried to squirm away. The way you moved against him, tried to flee from his release, only seemed to make his cock jump more inside you. You thought you heard a pained “mine" against your shoulder as his promised seed jerked into your now pliant womb.

He finally stilled, his dick softening in you. You felt your body slide down the wall, feet touching the ground before giving out entirely. You sat, slumped back, and looked to the scene in front of you. Dead demon behind Alastor, your shoes bloodied and tossed around, and your little knife just within reach.

Alastor quickly composed himself, cock returned to his pants and his suit adjusted precisely. You looked up at him, eyes glazed and tear stained. Your dress was wet and ruined, thighs slick with a mix of fluids. Yet he stood there, clean and pretty. Perhaps some of you had soaked into the front of his pants, but you couldn’t be sure.

"I apologize for underestimating you", He took the dagger, lifting your dress to slide it back into its holster. "And for allowing you to leave my sight." He gathered your shoes and wiped the dirt from them against the leg of his pants before gently slipping them back onto your feet. With two large hands under your arms he pulled you up to your feet, legs trembling still. "I promise you it won't happen again. Can you walk, my doe?"

The new name made your cheeks feel hot, funny given the more embarrassing part of this situation was his cum now sliding down your thighs. You nodded weakly, adding, "But-" and glanced to your lap. You squeezed your knees together and looked back at him.

"I fail to see the problem." His head tilted to the side as he lifted your dress with one of his long fingers and watched the milky white liquid slowly inch down your inner leg. "But, I'll find us a taxi. You won't be going home." He guided you by your hands to step over the corpse and into the light of the street.

You clarified, "I won't be going home tonight?"

He summoned his microphone and brought it down with a crack onto your phone, still discarded on the sidewalk. "INCOMING CALL: LUCI" flashing on the screen before it was shattered. He lifted his hand and waved for a passing taxi, turning to you with a soft grin, "Any night, darling."

༻Masterlist༺

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #smut #x reader #reader insert #x you smut #x you #alastor x you smut #Fanfiction #smut fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #radio demon

[tkingfisher]

Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!

This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.

Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”

And then I saw…the Claw.

It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!

I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”

And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.

You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.

Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.

It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.

My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”

(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)

During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.

Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.

So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!

*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.

#crayfish #crawfish #crustaceans #nature

[ceilidho]

landscape with honey

summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here) tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader

-

He starts showing up at your house at odd hours. 

You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.

You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.

The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet. 

He pays for the whole order.

You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you. 

John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you. 

John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing. 

The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.

“Hi Jo—” you start.

“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock. 

“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”

“Get in the car.”

“This is my only time to exercise!”

“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”

You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console. 

He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.

“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”

“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff. 

You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”

“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him. 

"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."

John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."

The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning. 

“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.

“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away. 

“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?” 

You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under. 

The first week of December hits town like a truck. 

You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.

It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance. 

A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue. 

The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first. 

You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.

It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you. 

You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.

You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that. 

When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark. 

You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake. 

It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.

Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.

A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.

“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. 

Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.

Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.

“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”

He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water. 

“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there. 

Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out. 

Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance. 

“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed. 

The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.

“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”

“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.

He hums instead of answering. 

“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur. 

His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again. 

“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”

“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan. 

“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”

“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. 

Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch. 

“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”

He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip. 

When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”

He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back. 

You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you. 

His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”

You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”

“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”

“The winter?”

“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”

“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”

Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside. 

He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.

“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”

“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized. 

He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”

You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured. 

“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”

Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble. 

You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly. 

Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache. 

You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle. 

There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor. 

“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you. 

“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”

“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”

It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky. 

Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs. 

He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.

You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body. 

When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you. 

“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.

Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #captain price #captain john price #cod price #john price #price/reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader

[taintedbenevolence]

YAN! WRIOTHESLEY X FEM! READER

m i n o r s d o n o t i n t e r a c t !

" 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒. "

— 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 

do not interact/read if the following triggers you! MENTIONS OF / IMPLIED STALKING, IMPLIED MURDER, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, USE OF APHRODISIACS, ODAXELAGNIA, NON-CONSENSUAL DISPLAY OF AFFECTION, IMPLIED MASTURBATION, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING KINK, ORAL SEX [RECEIVING], AND FINGERING IMPLIED / DESCRIBED.

OVERPROTECTIVE AND TOXIC / OBSESSIVE / POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR.

        •,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,• You should've known better than to blindly follow an order to enter Wriothesley's office that day.

Your morning had started off rather normal, with the exception of Sigewinne visiting you to leave you a letter written by none other than the Duke. At first, you thought it was just a notice for you, one related to business matters, or one about ordeals within the Fortress.

The letter resulted to be nothing at all what you expected it to be.

It was merely a note. "Please pass by my quarters when you have time today. Preferably during evening hours. I'd like to have a chat with you." That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simple, direct, and straight to the point. Just like the man himself.

The little Melusine who handed you the letter wore a bright yet small smile on her face as she stood up straight. "It seems you've caught the eye of His Grace," she says, almost teasingly, though you shook your head. "I wouldn't go as far as to say I've caught the attention of someone like him," you reply with a wry smile, though a part of you silently wishes it were otherwise.

But you had caught his eye, and from far early on too. The Lord of the Fortress of Meropide rarely traveled to the surface. It wasn't every once in a million years, naturally, but, it wasn't a common sight. Most cases, he was there strictly on business and other important matters rather than on vacation.

That, however, changed the moment he saw you. You were breathtaking, and better yet, you were not intimidated by his presence alone. Most people would keep their distance, look away, unable to meet his gaze, and lack the ability to keep their composure around him. But you?

You were perfectly fine being near him, wearing small smiles that gave him absolute butterflies, as much as he hated to admit. You were honest and though maybe partly reserved, still willing to share a proper chat when he approached you. He liked that. Sigewinne noticed.

And he wasn't sure whether he liked the little Melusine nosing around whenever he met you, because for all he knew, she could start getting ideas, and that... wouldn't have been ideal, put it lightly.

Nevertheless, it's easy to say that his visits to the surface became more frequent. He made your acquaintance and quickly enough became friends with you. It was smooth riding so far, and he was finding that the situation was going well for him.

Occasionally, the two of you would talk over a cup of tea and you'd chat about how things had been in your lives, whether maybe you'd lost a pendant you liked, or how there was a coffee you tried somewhere that was rather bitter, or how he had less work than usual, so he decided to spare some time to relax on the surface.

It was fine.

That is until he found out you had fallen in love the past days. But oh no, you were not in love with him. You were in love with someone else. That was the issue. So he began to inquire. How did this person act? How did you meet them? Do you think they'd make a great partner?

Simple questions just to see what was your view of them. 

Don't get him wrong — he's glad that you've found someone you love. He's just upset that the person you've fallen for isn't him. So he then decides to find the person for whom you fell for. It doesn't take long for him to find them, and it's not much effort to convince them that he's only visiting on behalf of business matters.

He returns every so often back to the surface to  meet with you and to keep eyes on your interest, making sure there are no "unwanted" advances between the two of you, and when he's at the Fortress, he simply has to hope that nothing occurs. Having someone work for this type of thing would be rather inefficient and would raise unnecessary suspicions.

Sure, people don't really need to understand what the Duke's motives are, but that doesn't refrain them from filing a report to the Chief Justice about unusual behavior. The two are acquainted, after all, and Neuvillette is more than adept at reading the behavior of humans.

So with that in mind, he decided it was best to do things himself. After all, if you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself. One day, whilst you conversed with Wriothesley, you spoke of how you planned to finally confess. He was immediately interested, and he, of course, listened, even if deep in his mind the person whom you treasured was a pool of blood.

If your confession proved to be successful, he'd have to find a way to slowly seed problems into the relationship. He isn't fond of what he'd have to do, but unfortunately enough, the small feeling of jealousy that has wrapped itself around his heart is eating away at him. 

He'd find the little details that bring you and your significant other apart and slowly begin to rip those traits up to the surface. He'd at times advise you that there were things you should watch out for, given this would be your first time in a relationship (or he'd assume so), and most likely, he'll find a way to tear down the relationship bit by bit and make it seem like it wasn't even his fault. It will appear as if it was just that you were mistaken, that this relationship wouldn't really work out.

That being said, if your confession resulted in a rejection, he'd comfort you. He knows how much it'd hurt having your feelings being rejected like that, and he especially doesn't want you crying for someone else who isn't deserving of causing your sorrow. He wouldn't want you tearing up to the one who had the audacity of even making you cry. He'd probably be mad at the person, but not enough to walk back at them and talk to them about it, as much as he'd wish to rip them into two. He exercises self-control, and somehow manages to control himself.

Depending how the person reacted to your confession, would Wriothesley's anger be gauged. Unfortunately enough for you, and much to Wriothesley's pleasure, you were rejected. Now, don't get him wrong; he wants you to have a successful relationship, but he also doesn't want you being with someone that doesn't deserve you.

So the moment that you come to him, your expression more solemn and down than usual, he already knows what's happened. He invites you over to the Fortress inside to cheer you up and for a change in atmosphere. While taking you to a place meant for imprisonment isn't exactly one's definition of "fun," you were rather curious to see what was the place this man called home.

To your surprise, it was well kept, and didn't look like it was rotting as you thought it would be. He also showed you around his quarters, to let you know where he'd be, and of course he introduced you to Sigewinne, who was more than happy to meet you.

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•

[| "Y/N, this is Sigewinne, our head nurse."[| "Oh, is this the person you've been rambling on about lately, Your Grace?"[| "... Sigewinne."

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•

You could've sworn that you saw a small smirk on the Melusine's face because she knew that His Grace was head over heels for you. Of course, you didn't know that, but... she did. You were later on dismissed, and for the next weeks, you stayed at the Fortress, given you met several new people in there and wished to get to know them better.

Wriothesley being the busy man he is, doesn't always have time to get out of his quarters, but god, with you around he can't help but give a few more rounds to the Fortress just to watch you as you go about your day. How he remembers your smiles, when you mentioned to some your hobbies, your interests, and so on so forth...

His gaze often falls on your small frame and his mind will wander to how perfectly it will fit against his larger figure when he's deep inside of you and—

Wriothesley thinks this is wrong. He thinks this is twisted in more ways than one, but he can't bring himself to stop it. He's helpless to the thought of you running your hands through the soft tufts of his hair whilst he holds you to himself, the way your lips would feel when matches them with his own, or how beautiful you'd sound when he inserts his digits into you as you struggle to not moan out his name.

He hates that he can't feel you. It's driving him mad.

Sometimes he's filling in and signing the mountain of paperwork he has on his desk and his mind trails off to you, and archons it's not even a minute before he has to stand up and drink some tea to clear his head. On some occasions, he'll feel so utterly pent up that there's nothing left for him to do than to lock his doors and let his hand soothe his frustrations and urges while he wishes his hand were your own or your mouth instead.

His mind is clouded with thoughts he wouldn't speak of in front of the rest and a part of him feels guilty about feeling in such a way towards you, yet he knows he wouldn't have it any other way. He's completely enthralled by you and obsessed by the thought of being able to claim you as his own.

It grows to the point that every day he sees you becomes unbearable. He can't stand how your sweet voice falls on those who don't deserve to hear it, how you smile at the prisoners whenever you get to speak with them and help them out during their shifts, how your hands sometimes barely brush together when you walk amidst crowds and he swears that a single touch of yours is enough to make him want to pick you up right then and there and fuck you raw away from prying eyes.

He is desperate. And he needs you.

So he decides that today is that day. After a few days of spending time with Sigewinne in order to mix in certain herbs with tea, he ends up with a particularly sweet tea. He reserves it for you. He's pacing in his office before he sits down in a relaxed manner, waiting for you to enter.

And the moment he hears the gentle knocking on his door accompanied by your voice asking for permission to enter, he can already feel his heart hammering. Allowing you to enter, you close the doors behind you, and for a man who's obsessed in every sense of the word, he's certainly composed.

He gestures for you to take a seat, to which you comply, and then he goes off to get the tea. After all, what better way to host a small meeting like this than to talk over a cup of tea? You're able to take in its sweet aroma and taste, and to say you liked it may have been an understatement.

"So how have you been finding the Fortress?" he muses, one leg crossed comfortably over the other. You only smile softly as you respond, taking a quick sip of your tea before answering. "Certainly different than what I expected it to be, but it seems to be managed well."

His Grace only smiles in return, and he then clicks tongue. "Say, have you enjoyed your stay here?" he asks, taking a sip as he waits. "It's been great. While some have a sharp tongue, there are a couple of people who have been good company, even if most of the time I'm around Sigewinne," you answer.

"Speaking of, where has she been?" you state, because now that you thought about it, you hadn't seen the little Melusine around the Fortress recently. Wriothesley just blinks as he then slightly mouths an 'oh.' "She's been off gathering herbs for medicine and treatment," he replies, before finishing the rest of the tea in his cup.

You hum in understanding as you stay still, having finished your own cup as well. "I see. Anyways, thank you for the tea," you reply in gratitude. The Duke only nods, as he remains there, seemingly observing you for any changes.

The two of you keep conversing, but throughout the conversation, you start to take note of something. You feel a little... moist. Perhaps you were exerting yourself too much recently?.. No, that couldn't be it — you felt as if you were getting warm all of a sudden. You couldn't exactly place your finger on what the sensation was.

Additionally, you couldn't exactly shake off the feeling no matter how hard you tried to focus on the man in front of you, and as time passed, you began to lose focus on the conversation you held with Wriothesley and your attention shifted to yourself, your gaze falling in between your thighs, the space feeling rather wet, for a lack of better words, the only thing in your mind being how unusually much you wished to be—

"Y/N?"

Wriothesley's voice snapped you back to the present as you felt blood rush to your face. No, that wasn't right, why were you feeling like this...? This was wrong... The man in front of you could only pretend for so long that he didn't know what was happening, but he wasn't in a far too different situation. The seemingly faint bulge in his pants grew ever slightly, and he was already starting to feel a little trapped and tight in his coat. He knew that you were starting to receive the effects already, so it was only a matter of time.

"Are you feeling well?" He murmurs, placing a hand on your shoulder before giving it a light squeeze, and you can swear that for a split moment you almost shiver. "... I.. it's.. sorry," you manage to murmur as you sigh quietly as you shook your head. "Is it just me, or.. is it getting rather hot in here..?"

Oh, how he wants to laugh.

You almost feel stupid having asked something of the like, and Wriothesley's barely holding himself together as he breathes quietly and calmly. He's on the verge of taking you right here and then, but he decides against it just to see what you'll do. "I feel it too," he replies relaxed, and your eyes seem to slightly light up. "Oh, so it's not just me..? That's at least a bit reassuring..."

He's so fucking desperate. Can't you tell?

And then he asks the magical question. "Why do you think I asked you to come in here?"

You blink, thinking through the question, before answering, a bit perplexed. "Because you wanted to talk...?" you reply. The man chuckles softly, though he shakes his head. "More than that, there was... something else." Confusion begins to run through your mind as you try to inquire as to what he means but before you can say another word, he picks you up, and carries you away as if you were nothing but a feather.

He locks the door to his office, and he walks up the stairs with you in his arms. "Wriothesley, what're you doing?—" you can barely say, your face pressed up against his clothed chest, but he silences you as he lays you flat on his desk.

His firm hands are quick to undo your clothing in your lower body, as he he carefully but easily slides off your undergarments. You can only feel the heat rush through you as your heart pounds. "Wriothesley, what are you—"

And your voice leaves you as you feel him spread apart your legs with his cold fingers, a bitter chill running through your spine as his tongue only starts to tease you by dampening furthermore your already wet folds. You can only bite your tongue to hold in a moan, though it proves futile when he begins to work on your clit, teasing and tracing faint circles with his tongue, causing a few whines to escape your mouth.

You can't tell whether to feel pleasured or scared. Wriothesley gives you no time to think.

He makes no effort to stop whilst you can only grasp and tug his hair, while you nervously and shakily run your hands down his smooth, black locks that glisten beneath the amber lights of his office. It doesn't take much longer for him to reach your entrance, and you clasp your mouth with your hand as you inevitably moan involuntarily. You feel your eyes practically roll back as you try to maintain your gaze focused on the raven-haired male, feeling the wet muscle continuously slipping in and out of your tightened entrance and you're certainly grateful the walls of his office are soundproof.

"Wriothesley, I can't— f-fuck!"

You can't help but squirm, your heart racing as your chest heaves up and down. Your vision is somewhat hazed, your attempts to shift comfortably failing as a new wave of pleasure surges through you as your entrance and clit are endlessly teased and caressed, a pressure building up inside you.

He's eating you out, and you're not even exactly sure if your mind would agree that you enjoy it, but your body sure as hell is, because your senses are getting stimulated beyond possibility. Your breathing is definitely evident and no longer quiet, and you can barely muffle how vocal you're growing until at a moment, you feel him retract at last.

Yet before you're able to question it, he repositions himself above you, and he's pinning your wrists above your head, his knees at either side of you as his imposing figure looms over your body, casting a slight shadow on you. "You sure are — hah — quite loud," he whispers with a teasing smirk edging on his face, his tone of voice growing a bit rasped as he reaches for an item that dangles on his hips — one you're quite familiar with.

Handcuffs.

And before you know it he's clipped them onto you and bound your wrists to his desk above your head, not allowing you to move them, their silver hue glister, glimmering in the dark shadows. "You're fucking mine," he snarls before he kisses you on the lips with fervor, almost as if he might just devour you on the spot if you don't do anything about it.

He's rough and passionate, not giving you a chance to breathe. The sudden ferocity and intensity in his act is more than enough to leave you breathless whilst you try to get used to it, to which he responds with a low growl. It's as if he's been starved for ages and his hunger is to never be sated. He bites down softly on your lower lip, effectively causing you to part your lips, giving him a chance to slide his tongue within.

The rush it gave you was almost feverish, even if it was wrong at its core. He tastes sweet, you think, as your tongues mingle together, the sweetness flooding your palates. Your train of thought was interrupted once more when he finally separated, and you breathed heavily. He was catching his breath, his mouth slightly hung open, giving you a view of the sharp canines he possesses. A small, barely noticeable trail of saliva connected your lips to his own, and he stared down at you, licking his lips to rid the saliva before his gaze landed on your neck. His hands, even with wraps and binds, were cold to the touch as he caressed your soft skin.

You're still catching your breath, blood rushing to your face when you feel him bite into your flesh, a quiet cry akin to a whine leaving you, only fueling his desire. He quietly growls, and he almost seems feral as he licks over the wound, moving quickly to other uncovered areas in your neck as he litters kisses around it. He bites hard and deep, sucking on the skin just enough to leave a couple of hickeys on you.

"You're all mine."

No words are required to be exchanged as he pauses, just leaning back. Seeing your taken-aback expression, he just chuckles softly, his icy gaze combined with the ever earnest smirk he wears already enough to keep you still beneath his iron grip. "I could just eat you up and you'd beg for more, wouldn't you, huh?" He states, his voice sounding like music to your ears.

"Bet you'd want me to fuck you dumb too."

He tugs on his tie, letting it fall loose untied with ease as his coat soon follows, allowing you to gain an exposed view of his scarred body. There's nothing more you'd like than to run your hands through his chest but the handcuffs don't allow you to move your arms in the slightest. He's depriving you of one pleasure, and he relishes in that.

"My eyes are up here, sweetheart."

And god does he love it when you try to avert your gaze in embarrassment, knowing that your eyes had solely been focused on his body. He takes his hand and tilts your chin so you're forced to meet his gaze, and he delights in the way you shudder at his mere touch — he has you at the mercy of his fingertips, he'd bet.

You're being driven mad, something he enjoys — he's no sadist, but he definitely likes seeing you having to put up with the building pressure and urges he held back on this entire time. He decides to toy furthermore with you, as he slowly begins to unclasp the belt around his waist as his pants come off loose.

You know what the man wants.

It doesn't take much time for the rest to come off, and it's very clear to you where this is going. The back of your mind is screaming at you to run, to move, anything, but your body just lies and stays still without making a sound. His hips are pressed into yours, and he has zero hesitation as he begins to slide himself inside you, positioning himself as you whimper, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes as you feel your walls stretching to accommodate to the sudden, large length that was pushed inside of you. It's too much for you, but he hushes you, caressing your face softly and wiping your tears.

"You're going to take all of it in for me, aren't you? Hah, so fuckin' tight..."

It hurts, and his gentle caresses are a sharp contrast to how he continuously pushes inside you until he finally reaches that place that would make you scream out in pleasure. And he knows it. He's impatient, and won't waste another second, and in just a few more seconds, he's already ramming his hips against yours, bulging cock sliding in and out at a pace you can no longer register.

"God — you're so good for me — no one else is allowed to see you like this, understood?"

The both of you are lost in lust, and your heart hammers in you whilst fear and pleasure courses right through your veins. You get the feeling he's not just pleasuring you — he's marking you, through and through, making sure that by the time you're walking out, people will only perceive his scent on you wherever you go. He wants you and you alone. 

Anyone who wishes to debate his posture is more than welcome to have a word with him in the ring.

You're barely able to choke out his name as he fucks you senseless, giving you no space to plead or speak at all, for that matter. The only noise you get out are your helpless moans as you shudder from each thrust. He's feral, hungry and starved for your love, and he wants to consume every bit of it.

"Wriothesley — fuck — I-"

If it weren't for the fact he's fucking you to oblivion on his desk, he'd probably find it amusing how helpless you've become in the span of a few minutes. He loves it. Your eyes are half-lidded and brimming with tears, your moans resounding through the entirety of his office, to which thankfully, there is no one else within except the two of you. You might've not registered it but you're sure he's already torn through all the clothes covering your chest too, leaving you now entirely exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

You start to feel the building pressure you had before, and your breathing is labored, heavy. You don't think you can take this for much longer, your folds wet and walls tightening around his cock. You really weren't sure how in hell you were going to fit all of it in, but you seemed to be taking it rather well.

Your synchronized moans and his groans paired together combine, slowing into a perfectioned, rhythmic catharsis as you finally reach your climax, your fluids coating him and staining the firm material beneath you, to which you can't help but wonder how exactly does he plan to clean.

Yet as you finally release, he still doesn't stop. He's not stopping, not yet, not when he's finally got you fucked over and whimpering, helplessly begging him to cum inside of you. All of your senses and inhibitions have been tossed aside, leaving you a forlorn, flustered mess. He craves you, he might just devour you, he's unable to contain himself.

"You look so adorable when you beg, yeah? So wet and tight for me, 'M just gonna have to keep going for you..."

He is relentless. By the time he cums, you're already left breathless, voice broken and unable to say a thing other than a quiet whine. He's breathing heavily, letting his seed settle within you as his residual flows leak through your thighs, painting you as his own.

"Hah... that look in your eyes.. you wanna be rewarded, don't you? 'M just gonna have to stuff you full, hm?"

He nuzzles his head in your neck, letting the soft tufts of his hair caress your skin softly. He's still inside you, his cum still leaking through your thighs and out of your worn-out, throbbing pussy. Slowly, he slides out of you, earning a faint, muffled hum akin to that of a moan as you catch your breath. "Wrio..." you mumble out, and he presses a light kiss to your neck, right on a mark he left by earlier.

"'M gonna fill you up and make you cum 'till you can't think..." he murmured, one of his hands soothingly caressing your neck as he runs his hand through your back, his other, free hand reaching down towards your wet folds, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your clit as he teases you gently, causing a few moans and whimpers to escape you. "'M gonna breed you.. make you all mine, darlin'."

He inserts two of his digits inside you fervently, fingering you, keeping you wet and tight as you squirm from his touch. He pulls in and out, unending and denying your pleads to stop. "P-please, Wrio — fuck — I can't-" He ignores your cries. Instead, he presses kisses across your jawline until meeting your lips, keeping you encased, trapped in a passionate kiss whilst being pleasured to no end.

"You can take it. Easy there, love."

You only respond with a whine as you feel yourself slowly reach your climax again, fluids seeping through your body and covering his digits, that slowly pull out with a wet sound. Your mouth is slightly hung open, your face with faint tints of red hidden by your disheveled hair, your body numb and almost limp.

The black-haired man simply held you tight, holding you close, never letting go, his voice whispering to you sweet nothings. His grip was tight, and unbeknownst to you, tears slowly smeared, falling across your face. You felt filthy. You felt violated. Anything but loved. And you knew more than ever, that from this day forth, you'd only ever be his.

His to love. His to hold.

For a night and forevermore, you were solely his to behold.

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•

A/N - I am utterly in love with this man. This prompt was also meant for yesterday bc Halloween n all, but I didn't make it- so- here you are- a little belated but still here! Same applies to the Imbibitor Lunae prompt that is soon to come! Love you all, remember to stay safe.

#genshin impact #writing #wriothesley #x reader #genshin impact x reader #my writing #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin impact #genshin #genshin wriothesley #smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin imagines #fontaine #yandere #yandere x reader #female reader #wriothesley x female reader #wriothesley smut #genshin impact smut #minors dni #cranberry.ichor #vanilla.cream

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

Give Me Shelter, For My Heart | Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | One Shot? 3k

Things are missing around the Avengers' compound and a newly returned Bucky is acting weirder than normal...Steve and Sam go to investigate and discover more than they bargained for.

Warnings: 18+ for language and suggestion of Hydra violence/torture/experimentation, omegaverse themes including alpha & omega, suggestion of pregnancy/pups, wolf shifting Rated F for Fluff and G for good friends

Challenges & Prompts: @buckybarnesevents Alpha Bucky April with extra prompts - word count, nesting, purring, beta characters, (I'll let mods decide if this hits the breeding/baby fever prompt). And @fandom-free-bingo 'forehead kisses'

Graphic by me and Canva, dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Hmm,” Steve looked around the supply room, surveying the gaps and empty shelves, normally well stocked with blankets and provisions. It was the third time this week he’d found himself at a loss, not just for words but his things too. Everything seemed to be going missing. 

First it was a few plates and mugs from the galley kitchen by his office, then it’d been the lunch he’d left for him and Bucky in the fridge. Last night he’d gone into Bucky’s room to make sure he was okay and found the man sleeping on a bare mattress, all the sheets, pillows and blankets were gone and the newly revived Bucky refused to explain what had happened to them or even acknowledge that there was anything wrong at all. He hadn’t even addressed that fact that the window was wide open and it looked as if he was sleeping in his shoes. 

Which brought Steve’s thoughts to the man himself. Bucky had been so odd since he’d returned. For a day or two, he’d been something like his old self, despite the awful situation they found themselves in, he’d joked with Steve and reminisced with the few memories he had. They’d enjoyed a beer together and he’d even met with Tony during their mediation and patched things up. 

Then, they’d all climbed onto the jet and he’d become distant, pacing like a caged animal until they’d landed. As soon as the doors were open he’d vanished for forty-eight hours and sent the entire compound into mayhem before strolling back in as if nothing had happened, bruised and covered in blood. Judging by the bandages he sported later that day, his cuts and bruises spread under his shirt and trousers too. 

Steve knew that he’d changed during his time with Hyrda, back in the 30s they’d both been betas, happy to plod along ignoring the madness of the few alpha’s in Brooklyn. It had been a rare thing then, to be an alpha, now they were considered a dying breed, so when Bruce’s tests had revealed that Bucky was an alpha now, they’d tried to take it in their stride that he might go off on his own sometimes, especially since omegas were even rarer. But there was still so much they didn’t know, so much to unpack and discover about the Bucky they’d rescued, and Steve was so desperate to spend time getting to know this new man that all the time apart was making him worry. 

“You okay?” Sam asked from the doorway, leaning in to hand Steve a hot cup of coffee. 

“Just doing a stock check.” 

“He take something else?” Sam stepped into the small room, lined with shelves and shelves of tents, camping stoves, parachutes, it seemed to go on and on. The bare grey shelves where stock was missing was stark against the white washed walls. 

“He?” 

“Barnes,” Sam sipped his coffee, matter of fact, and Steve confronted the worry that had been plaguing him. 

“It’s Bucky, isn’t it?” Steve dropped his head heavily and Sam patted him on the back, still sipping his drink. 

“Sorry man, told you, he’s not right yet. He’s not hurting anyone though, if he hates his bedding, who cares, if he hates your lunches, who could blame him.” 

Sam sidestepped Steve’s halfhearted swipe with a grin on his face. 

“But what’s he doing with it, Sam? Where’s it all going?” 

“Hell, I don’t know, have you asked him?” Sam raised his eyebrows. 

Had Steve asked his best friend, who flinched at his touch and shied away from any conversations? Bucky who vanished for hours at a time and came back looking as if he’d been dragged through a hedge? No, he hadn’t. He’d been too scared to confront what might be going on, what latent part of his programming might be at play. 

“Look, if you’re too scared to ask why don’t I?” 

Now it was Steve’s turn to raise his eyebrow, it wasn’t that Sam and Bucky didn’t get along, they just didn’t get along yet. Steve was working on it. 

“What if we…followed him?” He offered instead and Sam laughed again. 

“Who knew Captain America was scared of his own friends,” he couldn’t contain the chuckles. “Fine, fine. Let’s keep an eye on him.” Sam turned to the ceiling, more comfortable with the AI than Steve was. “FRIDAY, if Sergeant Barnes leaves his room, please can you alert us - privately?” 

“Of course,” the soft voice answered and Steve gave his friend a weak smile. 

FRIDAY’S alert went off twice a day, every day, over the next week. But despite their best efforts neither Steve nor Sam managed to catch up with Bucky. 

It wasn’t until the following Saturday that they managed to follow him. Bucky was supposed to be at a training session to get his official certifications but they’d both had a feeling he’d try and skip it. As predicted they’d spotted the blue of his new henley edging around the side of the compound, a full backpack strapped to his back. 

Bucky ran across the grass and towards the thick forest. His still uncut hair was tied back but tendrils fell out as he sprinted into the wind. 

He was surprisingly loud, as he strode quickly between the trees, snapping twigs and branches that Steve knew he could’ve dodge even before the serum and his training. Sam looked at him, both of their feet silent as they followed. 

Bucky’s speed increased as he turned his face up into the breeze, his backpack jostled against the trees, bouncing when he began to run. 

Steve kept up, sending Sam wide, into the breeze, in case Bucky doubled back. 

Just as he was starting to feel lost in the repetition of trees and ferns, Bucky burst into a clearing and Steve slammed to a halt. 

The pine trees gave way to a small patch of clear sky, shining down on an old shed. Unlike the other abandoned guard houses, this one had obviously been cleaned recently. The small porch was swept and a pair of Avengers camping chairs were arranged neatly facing into the forest. A line had been strung between the cabin and the trees where one of the missing blankets fluttered in the gentle wind. 

Steve crouched down, motioning to Sam on the other side of the clearing to stay out of sight. 

Bucky approached slowly, “Cățeluș, are you here?” 

At first there was nothing and then a wolf nosed its way out from behind the door, it’s chestnut brown fur almost gold in the sunlight. It leaped forwards from the porch and shot across the clearing, leaping into Bucky’s arms. 

Steve whipped his head up to try and find Sam and by the time his eyes found Bucky again the wolf was gone, replaced by a woman pulling on a large t-shirt from Bucky’s backpack. 

“James!” Her sweet voice rang out in the otherwise quiet forest. 

Swamped by Bucky’s familiar red henley, you shot from the door and into Bucky's waiting arms, the back pack dropped to the floor and forgotten. 

She was swamped by Bucky’s red henley and he wrapped you in his arms, one large hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his neck. The other supported your legs, now wrapped around his waist. 

In the clearing Bucky's shoulders relaxed as he sank into your embrace, kissing and nipping at your neck. In return you tipped your head, practically purring at the attention and wriggling in his arms. 

“Have you been okay, baby.” Bucky asked, pulling away enough to look you over. 

“I'm okay, I missed you though, James, please don't leave me again.” You begged cupping his stubbled cheeks in your hands. 

Bucky turned into your palm and kissed it, “I know, I know, I’ve been making sure it’s safe for you.” 

Steve's heart sank. Bucky didn't feel safe? 

“You trust me, don't you, my little omega.” Bucky rubbed his nose into your cheek and you giggled, holding him even tighter, your hands in his hair. 

An omega? 

Sam stared over at Steve, eyes wide. 

It was clear to them both that this was no chance encounter and all Bucky’s odd behaviour suddenly started to make more sense.

Steve motioned for Sam to leave, they could sneak back to the compound and perhaps bring this up tentatively. Perhaps leave some items you might like lying around in the hopes that Bucky would take them and understand that his secret was out, but it was safe. 

Sam moved swiftly round the clearing as Steve continued to watch Bucky. 

Bucky vanished into the cabin, leaving you on the porch alone, snuggled into his shirt and pressing the collar to your nose. 

“She’s cute,” Sam whispered, squeezing up against Steve, still hiding in the overgrown ferns that lined the edge of the cabin. 

“We can’t let her sleep out here. She must be hungry and cold.”

Bucky emerged from the cabin carrying two of the missing mugs, balancing them carefully on the railing before scooping you up into his lap. His hand hovered by his mouth, sipping in slow motion as his eyes scanned the tree line and Steve took a breath, sitting back quickly. 

“Stay here, Cățeluș,” he was up in a flash, eyes always on the tree line even when he reached into his boot to pull out a familiar gerber knife. 

Instead of flipping it into his palm, he balanced it on the arm of your camping chair. Eyes still on the trees he placed his metal hand on top of your head, “stay here and stay safe, follow the plan, do what you need to.” His voice was low, series, almost a growl. Far away from the happy, loving tones he’d been speaking to you with before. 

You nodded, and as soon as he felt your head move he was up and off the porch. 

Steve and Sam looked up in time to see a wolf leap towards them. 

It was true then, the experiments had worked and Steve had the cold feeling that returned every time he discovered something new about his friend during a fight, but he had no time to worry about it now. Not when the wolf was closing in on them. 

It was huge, its white fur dusted with fallen leaves, but its teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun as he pounced, snarling. His paws the size of dinner plates slamming into the ground in front of them, teeth bared and snarling. 

Steve rolled away, pulling Sam with him and covering his body, regretting not bringing the shield. 

“Bucky!” Sam shouted from under Steve’s arm

“Bucky it’s us we don’t want to hurt you!” 

The wolf pulled back from the two men pinned beneath him, and something like clarity passed over Bucky’s icey blue eyes and he sat on his haunches, head cocked to one side, ears floppy. Then it stood, rounding the bushes and, in a blink, the man had reappeared still hiding before the foliage to cover his naked body. 

“Steve -” Bucky looked thoroughly confused, 

“Bucky, we’re so sorry we shouldn’t have followed you.” 

“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice wavered, his body cold without his fur and with his clothes left behind in the cabin. 

“We were worried about you, man, you’ve been so weird - stealing stuff, going missin’, can you blame us for getting creeped out?” Sam raised his eyebrows and Bucky’s brow furrowed. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to -” he gestured back towards the cabin and, as if remembering he’d left you behind with no way of knowing he was safe he turned and ran back to the clearing. 

Steve and Sam jumped up, chasing after Bucky once more. 

The cabin porch was empty when Steve picked his way down the slope of mud and rocks into the clearing. 

A howl rang out as he got closer to the little house, a high, pained sound and then the response came, low and level. 

There were two wolves now, hidden at the side of the cabin in the shadows.

The white wolf kept itself half turned towards Steve and Sam, who kept quiet and still, barely daring to breathe, allowing its companion to approach slowly. 

The brown wolf dropped in front of the white, ears flat back against its head, and then rolled over, showing a soft belly that the white wolf nuzzled gently before turning back to Steve and barking sharply. 

Steve held his hands up and the wolf barked again, turning tail and returning to the cabin. 

It took only moments for Bucky to show himself on the porch, pulling his henley back down over his now dirt streaked belly. 

“Come in,” he gestured up the stairs and vanished again. 

The cabin, though run down, was well kept. The porch was swept of leaves and there was even a little mat by the door. 

“Shoes,” you whispered, pulling on Bucky’s sleeve as you entered the main living space, making an attempt to hide behind him. You’d dressed again too, also in one of Bucky’s henleys and a pair of leggings that Steve recognised as Avengers recruit issue. 

“Do you mind?” Bucky asked while Steve and Sam stared between you both. 

“Shoes,” you turned to look up at Bucky again, eyes pleading in one moment and then flicking to the two new men treading mud into your home. 

“Your shoes, take them off.” Bucky helped them arrange their boots neatly by the door while you pottered around the fireplace. “This is her nest,” he whispered, making sure the doormat was straight and the little curtain was neat over the window. “It’s important to omegas, to her,” you turned shooting a glare over your shoulder, “to us-that it’s kept just right and she hates shoes inside.”

In the small living space a camping stove had been set up with a kettle, a portable fridge, and an assortment of mugs, both Avengers field regulation and novelty, which were set neatly on the mantel. You chose four, and placed them next to the kettle while it steamed happily away. 

Bucky spoke softly to you in a mixture of English and Romanian, but you didn’t come any closer to the strange men. You’d seen them before, on the television and in Bucky’s notebooks, but now that they were here, so large and imposing, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look over. 

“This is Cățeluș, well, that’s not her real name but we couldn’t find that. She - uh -” you watched Bucky struggle for words and lay a hand on his cheek, smiling warmly up at him. Your Winter, your James. “-I don’t want to say the word, it upsets her, but she was with me when I was - him - part of the experiments.” 

You poured the tea quietly, watching the steam rise into the darts of sun making their way through the broken knots of wood in the wall, and you took a deep breath. With shaking hands you gave the first man, Sam, a cup. He had a gentle face, a wide smile and he didn’t look at you with pity, as you feared, only interest. 

The second man held his breath as you approached, keeping his hands as close to his body as possible until you pushed the cup towards him. Steve. Bucky had lots of pictures of Steve in his notebooks and had told you more stories than you could remember, but he didn’t look sickly, he looked too big for the space, his shoulders drawn in, slouched. You appreciated that he was trying not to look scary, even though your every nerve was on edge.  

Bucky took the proffered mug from your hands with a kiss to your forehead and you sighed, allowing him to steer you to the only arm chair in the room and then passing you your own tea. 

“We got out, eventually and - I brought her here.” Bucky sat on the rolled arm of the chair, draping his own arm over your shoulders and fitting you into his side. 

Steve and Sam could only stare. 

“Why didn’t you bring her to the compound? She can stay -” Steve turned to you, “you can stay, either in Bucky’s room or you can have your own room if you’d prefer.” 

It took you a moment to process the offer, but eventually you shook your head, turning into Bucky’s side. 

“It was awful - in there, with them she, we both -” Bucky struggled for the words, the desire to protect you rising inside 

“It’s okay,” Sam said carefully, “I know the transition’s been rough on you, Bucky, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for her, how you even got her out here. But there’s nothing to be afraid of, maybe she’ll come with you? If you suggest it?” 

Sam kept looking at you, his eyes soft and encouraging but you turned away, pressed your face into Bucky’s ribs where his scent had soaked through his shirt, reassuring and primal, chanting in your head Alpha, safe, Alpha, safe. You did miss him, when he was gone, but how could he keep you safe in that place. 

You’d seen it, once or twice, through the trees when you took a walk, looking for whatever you could find in the forest. Guards left lots of things behind, bottles and coats and jackets, useful things. You collected them all, skirting around the edge of that horrid white building and hoping to never see the terrifying things that flew out of it, men in suits and robots, it was too much. 

“You can bring whatever you like with you, and maybe Nat and Wanda could help you with some new things, if you liked?” Steve followed Sam’s lead, keeping his voice steady and low. 

“James - my nest.” You mumbled, gripping his henley in your fist. 

He dropped a hand onto your head, “we can do whatever you like, baby. You want to stay here, we can stay, you want to go to the compound, we’ll go.” 

You felt Bucky’s heart rate pick up, its beat hammering and your anxiety grew too, your breathing more ragged, you turned even further into him, practically climbing into his lap, the henley you’d taken from him riding up. 

Instantly you knew it was a mistake, the scars of your time in Hydra were still visible, raised on your skin, yellowing patches of healing bruises and calloused skin from repeated bouts in the chair. 

Sam and Steve could barely conceal their inhale of breath. 

“Bucky, did you get her checked by a doctor or…” Sam trailed off, Bucky looked angry again, his arms fully surrounding you. 

“And what would I have said, Sam?” He growled, “I know she looks like she’s been kept in a cage and beaten but please don’t arrest me, I promise it wasn’t me? Her social security number? Sorry, I don’t have it, we don’t even know her name. I did the best I could.” His anger tipped over into a resigned sadness. Bucky cupped your face in one hand and forced you to look up at him, “I did the best I could, baby, I really did.” 

You nodded and his grip loosened so you could nuzzle into his chest again, your own tears running down your cheeks at the memory of those early days. Bucky’s shaking hands patching up your burns and cuts, the whisky you’d slugged before he pulled out a stray bullet from your arm and stitched it with floss. Every touch had been gentle though, every time he’d changed your bandages or cleaned you up, it had been gentle. It had been everything he could give you. 

“We didn’t mean it like that, Buck,but we could help, get her checked over and then you can come back here.” Sam’s voice was plaintive, deliberately soothing and it made Bucky’s blood boil. 

“I’m not taking her to that place.” He bit back, there was no mistaking the way he curled you into his body, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your back. 

It didn’t hurt anymore, to be touched, but then it’d never hurt to be touched by James. His hands had always been careful with you, his strength used only for protection and it was for that reason that you lay your trust in him completely. 

“Don’t make me go, Alpha.” You whispered, your lips brushing the base of his neck where you’d marked him, right over his scent gland, your teeth marks an eternal brand. You nuzzled into him, your chest rumbling again. 

“I won’t make you go,” he looked back at Steve and Sam, the finality of his decision sat heavily in the air. 

“Can we at least bring some medical things here? Would you let Sam check you out?” Steve offered, he was increasingly concerned by the way Bucky had retreated into the chair, his own legs now curled up on the overstuffed cushion.

Above you, James nodded once, “just you and Sam, don’t tell anyone else. I’ll know if you tell anyone else.” The panic edging Bucky’s voice had Steve raising his hands in surrender. 

“I promise, Buck, just Sam and I.”

Sam and Steve left the cabin at dusk while you and Bucky watched from the deck. As soon as they were beyond the trees he pulled you even tighter against his chest, his heat warm. 

“Everything is going to be okay, baby, I promise, no one’s going to ever, ever, hurt you again.” His hands slid down your arms and across the slow swell of your belly. “But we should consider their offer, make sure we’re making a choice that’s good for you and me, as well as them.” His palm pushed up under your shirt, splayed on your tight skin and, deep inside, your pup pushed back. 

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #alpha bucky barnes #alpha!bucky #alpha bucky x reader #alpha bucky x omega reader #omegaverse #bucky barnes events #Alpha Bucky April

[gurugirl]

More of You | bfd!harry

there's a reference to his hair drying all curly after a shower so i had to use this image

Note: Can be read as standalone

Summary: Harry's at your place for a couple of days and you're enjoying having him all to yourself.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, lying, cheating, age gap, breeding kink (you guys asked for the breeding kink and this one is full of it), fluff

bfd!harry masterlist

Harry convinced you to call off work the next morning. You were due to go in that afternoon but Mondays were slow anyway and tips were generally subpar when it was slow. Plus you rarely called off so once wouldn’t hurt anything.

He listened as you rolled over in bed and called your boss.

You made up an excuse about being sick to your stomach. And being sick as a server is a big no-no so your boss didn’t even put up a fight. He told you to feel better and then said he’d see you Wednesday because you already had Tuesday off. Two whole days with Harry uninterrupted sounded like heaven.

You sat up to place your phone back on your nightstand and intended on getting up to put a t-shirt on and make coffee but Harry lunged toward you and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you back into the bed. His strong arms easily keeping you from getting up.

“Where are you going?” He said as he pushed you down and leaned over you, caging you in by putting his thigh over yours.

You laughed, “I was going to make coffee.”

“I think we should stay in bed for a while longer,” he spoke as he brought a hand up to your neck and then ducked down to kiss your lips.

And that pretty much had you melting into your mattress and feeling fuzzy and blurry with his lips against yours.

You pulled your arms around Harry’s back and felt the scratches you’d given him the night before. You helped him clean them because you’d done some damage.

“Harry you already fucked me,” you moaned as he began to lower his lips down your body.

He stopped the wet path of his lips down and looked up at you, “So? I have an appetite. You just do something to me, Y/n. Prepare yourself for two days of this.” And with that, he attached his mouth to your cunt and you yelped.

You woke up that morning and had hot quick morning sex. You got off so impossibly fast that Harry even had to question if you’d been faking it. But of course, you weren’t. It was just everything all at once. His love, his body, his words, his presence.

And now he wanted to take his time with you. Get you all worked up again and fuck you slowly, filling you up with everything he had to give you.

With your thighs wrapped around his head and Harry’s quick tongue at your clit you came for the second time that morning. But he felt you yanking at his hair and you were begging him to get inside of you again.

“Desperate for me again? Fuck I love that.” He moved up your body and you were writhing under him.

“Yes. Please, Harry. Fill me up full. I need it.”

Harry let out a soft laugh as he kissed each of your nipples. You hadn’t even had time to clean up after the last round because you’d called your boss. So you were still full with his come, which he could taste as he was eating you out.

“Does it really feel that good, baby? You know you’re already stuffed with my come right now. Right? You want more?”

Nodding your head you pulled at him impatiently, “Need more. Want to carry your babies and drip with your come every day all day long.”

Harry groaned. Your sex drive matched his libido perfectly. He loved it. How much you enjoyed having sex. How slick you got and how fertile you were. It all fed into his primal kink to breed. You might have been on birth control but he could have fun with it. He knew you were dirty and enjoyed it too.

He plunged into your hole, pushing his previous orgasm deeper inside of you. The wet squelches were sloppy and obscene. You were so incredibly wet and still dripping with him that it made things even messier. He sat back onto his haunches and slowly thrust into you, pulling back and plunging in until his pubic hair dipped into your messy, wet pussy.

Your legs were spread apart wide as you looked up at him. Harry was honed in on where his cock was spreading you apart. You moaned at the feel of it. Everything was so wet and sticky. You knew it would be on your sheets.

“Fuck me just like that Harry. Deep, get it in there.” You panted your words. Harry was going deep but he wasn’t going hard.

Harry moaned and turned his gaze toward your pretty face, his hands at your hips, pulling you toward him on each thrust, “You just want to be my come hole? Get filled up over and over again?”

You could hear the desperation in his voice. He was already close to coming.

“Yes, sir. Need you to keep pumping your babies into me. Fuck your come into me, and then fill me again so it gets into my womb.”

“Shit, baby. So creamy…” Harry panted as he continued pulling you over his cock like you were a toy he needed to fuck down over himself. Your tits wobbled with each pull and he could hear how wet everything was. Messy. “Gonna breed you, baby. Make you a mommy, yeah? Keep draining my cock deep into your pussy until you’re fat with all my babies. That what you want?”

You cried out and nodded, “Yes! Oh my god… yes!”

Harry could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He’d never been able to do what he was doing right then. Back-to-back orgasms. Even when he was younger he needed to recover. He’d always had a high sex drive but his natural refractory period typically meant he needed some time in between. But god, with you? It was like you just pushed all his buttons exactly like he needed.

He moaned as his eyes roved your sexy form. A pretty thing and all his. Soft thighs shaking, tits wobbling, tummy getting fucked into, wet lips wide open with a fucked out smile… All his.

“Come in me, Harry. Please, sir. Come inside of me. Make me all yours…” you moaned. You were really getting into the breeding thing. Never had it appealed to you before Harry. And maybe the reasons you liked it so much with him were selfish. Because part of you would love to have him get you pregnant. Then he’d really be all yours. You knew Harry would do anything to take care of you and he’d forsake everyone for you. Just as you would for him.

Harry’s thumb landed on your clit and you wailed in ecstasy, throwing your head back as you grasped the tops of his thighs, “Yesss!”

He watched you arch and tremble and felt your pussy fluttering around him so he kept at what he was doing. He could tell you were near your end.

“Gonna come on my cock? Milk me of everything I’ve got? Selfish little thing wants all my come inside of her pussy doesn’t she?”

You groaned lowly and sputtered out a cry. You were actually crying. You had tears on your face but it wasn’t because you didn’t like what was happening. It was because you liked it too much. “Want it all. Want all your come inside of me. Only mine,” you babbled on about his come only being yours and how you needed it inside of you.

He closed his eyes for a moment to keep his thrusts steady because his view of your pussy taking him, creamy white arousal pushed down over the base of his cock, his come leaking out of your hole and down your ass… he was about to explode inside of you again.

“Fucking come then, baby. I’m gonna give you my come but I need to feel you coming first, honey. Come on, Y/n.”

You blubbered and cried and then you snapped. The loud wail that fell from your lungs had Harry taken aback. It was… loud. But he had little time to consider the kind of noises you two were making in your bedroom with your bed bouncing and creaking loudly and your high-pitched moans and yelps.

The moment you cried out as he felt you squeeze around him and your thigh muscles tightened he could feel you orgasming. He coughed out a loud groan and poured into you finally, pressing his hips against yours and rocking down into you so he could get his come inside of your guts and fill your walls with his sperm.

You both whined and cried, you much louder, but the overload of come inside of your pussy was like a small fountain. It dripped down your ass cheeks and soaked the bed under you. Harry had himself buried in so deep and had a hold of your hips so you couldn’t pull away, his balls snug against you as he pumped and pumped into you.

“Shit!” He groaned. He had come so hard that he saw specks in his vision and he felt lightheaded.

When he caught his breath he collapsed over you and felt your legs wrap around his low back, “Harry… oh my god. I love you so much.”

He smiled into the pillow and turned his head so his lips were at your ear, “I love you, baby.”

.           .           .

You were floaty and soft feeling after you’d had two orgasms. Harry was not feeling much different. He kept you close to him after. A short shower together to rinse off and touch and be together. Harry kissed your shoulders and your neck as you leaned your back into his chest under the stream of tepid water.

And in the kitchen with a breakfast of coffee and oatmeal, you teased him about the way his hair was drying in wild curls on top of his head, “You should really just do it like this, Harry. It’s so sexy,” you pushed your fingers into his hair.

He chuckled with a bite of food in his mouth and shook his head, as he watched you. When he’d swallowed his bite he pulled your hand from his hair and fit his fingers in between yours, “That is not going to happen. S’too messy.”

You shook your head, “I like it. It’s wild but it’s cute. Looks like you just had some really good sex.”

Harry pinched your thigh and pulled your chair right next to his before dragging you into his lap, your back hitting his chest with his mouth at your ear as he spoke, “My sex hair is only for you to see, baby.”

You grinned as you felt his hand grip your chin and turn your head so he could kiss your lips.

Harry’s phone rang suddenly and you quickly moved off his lap to let him up. He picked up his cell phone and looked at you before lifting the phone so you could see that Fae was calling him. A signal to keep quiet.

“Hey Fae,” Harry paced into the living room as he answered.

You busied yourself putting the bowls away but couldn’t help but hear his side of the conversation with his daughter.

“Okay… well, we haven’t even really discussed it yet so-“

He was silent for a moment as you rinsed the dishes but then heard him again, his tone was upset.

“Fae, listen to me,” he sighed and you watched as he walked in front of your couch, back and forth, “That’s not it. No.”

He laughed in frustration and then sat down, “I’m not home because it’s the middle of a work day, Fae.”

Harry leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes.

You knew she’d be talking to you about this soon. You imagined Fae called to find out what was going on with him and her mom. She’d want to vent to you. And all you could think about was how you’d navigate the lies.

“Sweetheart, this doesn’t change anything, okay? We just need some time.”

When he finally hung up you sat down next to him and waited for him to tell you what was said.

With his back still into the cushions he scooped your hand into his and brought it up to his chest, “She’s pissed at me. Asked if her mother was going to divorce me.”

You swallowed at the ‘D’ word. It was something you only allowed yourself to indulge in alone. You ran over all the scenarios in your head. It would be messy. Everyone would hate you but you’d have him in the end. And if that’s how it all wound up, that didn’t seem like the worst thing. No. The worst thing was to not end up with him after it all.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your body turned toward his.

He turned his head and looked at you with a smile, “I’m here with you so I’m okay. You make me happy, Y/n. I don’t know what’s going out outside of this but I know when I’m with you, I’m fine.”

You felt the same. Everything outside of your apartment was iffy and shaky. But inside, with Harry’s hands on you, his eyes on you, his voice, his existence connecting with yours… everything was fine.

With the TV on you and Harry curled into one another and watched whatever daytime television show was airing. The call from Fae had changed the air a bit. Harry didn’t want his daughter upset with him and you were on edge wondering when she’d be calling you to vent.

But you had him with you. He was at your apartment with you because that’s where he chose to go. And that had to mean something. Because you were sure his wife expected him to beg her to come back. That he’d be doing anything at all to win her back and explain himself and prove to her that nothing was going on. But he didn’t do that. Instead, he came to you that very night. Rather than going to his wife’s sister’s house to talk to her and smooth things out, he found his way to you and made love to you, and brought a bag so he could stay. Even if it would only be for a couple of nights it meant something.

And even though the air had changed, Harry still stayed within arm’s reach of you. At Lunchtime he had you sitting on the counter next to him while he made you sandwiches and then you sat together on your couch to eat.

“I brought something with me. For us,” Harry spoke in between his bites as he looked at you.

“What did you bring?”

He swallowed his bite and the look on his face told you that he needed to work up the nerve to say what he was about to, “Remember that toy I bought for you?”

You nodded. You did remember. The one that you told him to take with him when you were upset. The one his wife found in his study. There seemed to be a lot of negativity surrounding that toy so you could understand his hesitancy in bringing it up.

He scratched the back of his neck as he leaned forward to put his plate on your coffee table, “Was thinking we could test it out. If you want to.”

“Test it out?” You grinned and placed your empty plate down over Harry’s on your coffee table.

He raised his brows and shrugged, “Do you want to? Just to see?”

There was no way you’d say no to the man. Of course, you’d enjoy testing out a toy with him. You watched Harry connect it to charge and then you read over the instructions and Googled reviews.

The thing was mostly already charged when it arrived so after cleaning it off Harry brought you to your couch and laid the pink toy on your coffee table.

He stayed on the floor on his knees between your legs and pulled you down for a kiss, “You ready? Gonna get you worked up first and then we’ll see what that thing can do.”

Harry was already slipping your panties down your legs as he spoke. His lips against yours were soft and his hands gently spread your thighs further apart.

He pushed you back into your couch and began to peck wet kisses up your thighs and he had his hands holding your hips in place.

“Want you all wet first. Make it feel really good for you,” he spoke as moved his mouth upward to the space where your inner thighs were softest.

He sat back and pushed your t-shirt up over your tits and licked upward over your breasts until the air cooled them and your soft moans invited him to do more.

He planted his gaze on yours as he bent down and pulled at your thighs, causing your bum to slide off the edge of the couch so he could have access to your pussy.

And he put that access to good use.

He softly licked and kissed your clit and your labia, speaking filth in between as he went, “This little pussy is so pretty,” he puffed hot breath over your clit before softly tonguing at the hood, “and it’s all mine to fuck and lick and kiss. Can’t wait to see how she’s gonna look riding her new pink toy.”

You began to laugh at his “new pink toy” comment but it was cut off when he sucked your clit into his mouth with a slurp.

He lifted again with a grin, “She’s all wet now, look at that,” he thumbed at your crease and ran your glistening arousal over your clit before bringing it up so you could watch the spectacle of how wet you’d gotten for him so quickly. The string of arousal connected from his thumb to your cunt was broken as he moved his thumb up to your lips.

You wrapped your lips around his thick thumb and licked off your arousal.

“You ready to take it on a test drive now, baby?”

You laughed through your nose, “Why not?” You said with a grin.

Harry opened his phone and pulled up the app, selecting a pre-programmed setting for vibrations.

“Rub your clit for me,” he directed as he pressed the bulb to your entrance. It easily slid in with a gentle push and you moved your fingers from your clit when the little wand slid into place.

The moment he pushed play you felt the deep rumble inside. Now, you’d played with toys on your own before. You had a decent vibrator. But you knew this one could be used from his house on you while you were in your apartment.

“How’s it feel?” He asked as he looked from your pussy where the little pink antenna was sticking out to your eyes. He was still on the floor between your legs, his hands at your thighs to keep them apart.

You swallowed and nodded, “Yeah… uh… it feels good. Kind of like you’re fingering me with vibrations,” you giggled but then the programmed settings suddenly increased the thrumming inside and you gasped, widening your eyes. Oh yeah. That felt pretty good.

Harry watched you for a bit as you progressively got wetter. Having him right between your legs watching a toy rumble inside of you was quite odd. You’d never done anything like it before.

“Oh!” You yelped when the vibrations stuttered and stopped, started to life, and began to repeat in a pattern that you knew was hitting your g-spot, just like the booklet said it could. It was small but it definitely reached the spots it needed to.

Suddenly your phone began to ring.

You and Harry looked at one another for a moment before you lifted it to your ear quickly to get it over with.

It was Fae. Immediately she commented that she was surprised you’d picked up.

“Oh yeah, I called off today. Wasn’t feel very great. Just needed some rest. What’s up?”

You looked at Harry who had his eyes on you already.

Fae wanted to come over. She asked if she could stop by and you hated, loathed to lie to her.

“Maybe tomorrow afternoon I can meet you for lunch? Not today. I really am not feeling up to it.” You turned your face from the phone and gasped, dropping your mouth open as the vibrations were rattling your insides.

So, she told you about her father and her mother and how she was worried. Told you that her mother had left their home to stay with her sister and how Harry didn’t seem too concerned.

“I’m sure he cares, Fae. He loves you and your mother!” You hadn’t meant to speak so frantically at the end but the toy was still working inside of you.

“No! I’m okay! Sorry, I burnt myself. Can I call you back?” Again, your tone was too keyed up but you truly couldn’t help it as you panted, turning your mouth away from the receiver in hopes that Fae wouldn’t hear you.

It turned out that Fae was getting ready to head into the store to go to work. She had wanted to drop by on her way but you were in no position to allow that. Clearly.

You rushed off the phone as your chest heaved. You’d need to deal with the guilt of lying to her and brushing her off after.

Harry shook his head and grinned at you, “You okay?”

You nodded, “I think so. This thing is really good, though, Harry.”

It was. Once the pre-programmed selection started to pulse in heavy vibrations you grabbed Harry’s hands from your thighs and pulled him up to your mouth to kiss.

He laughed against your lips and used one of his hands to pull his pants down. You could tell he was stroking his cock as he kissed you but you, being the selfish girl you’d come to find out you were, you wanted him to come inside of you.

Pushing at his chest you reached down to pull the toy out, “Inside of me. I want your cock.”

Harry groaned and fumbled with his phone to turn off the vibrating toy and shut the app off. His cock hung heavy and angry as he turned back to you, getting to his knees and swiping his tip into your soaking wet crease, “You like my cock better than the new toy I bought you?”

His grin as he asked was cheeky. His cock was far larger and meatier. And it was attached to him. So of course you liked it more.

“God nothing compares to your cock, Mr. Styles. Now, fuck me.”

Harry shifted his head to the side and squinted at you, “Where are your manners?”

You bucked your hips up and pulled at his shirt, “Please, sir.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He smiled, keeping his eyes on yours as he pushed through your tight little entrance and moaned deeply, “That’s so good. God every time is better than the last,” his words were soft as he pulled back and slowly plunged in.

You couldn’t agree more. Every time you fucked it kept getting better. It was like you two were fusing and morphing into one. Like he knew all your spots and you knew all his. The connection was deep and more than physical. It was everything.

With his hands at your hips, keeping your pussy close to the edge of the couch Harry fucked into you as he kissed you hard. You’d gotten so wet, once again, that even the squeak of the couch couldn’t cover up the sound of your pussy getting fucked.

“Hear that? So juicy for me. You need this don’t you?” Harry pecked kisses down your jaw as he whispered into your skin.

“I need you, Harry. I always need you.”

The delicious rhythm Harry built had your tits bouncing and Harry’s balls swinging but it wasn’t enough. He was struggling with the angle. He pulled out and stood over you, taking your ankles into his hands, and pushed your feet up, pressing your thighs into your chest so you were folded nearly in half with your pussy exposed for him.

The initial plunge of his thick cock through your tight muscle had you whimpering and clawing for something to hold on to.

“Oh fuck!” Harry growled as he drove into you forcefully. The fit was tight and your grip on him, every inch he gave you, had his strong thighs shaking.

You loved it. Loved how thick and wide he felt, loved that he was already whimpering as he pounded you into the couch, loved that your pussy was doing that to him.

“You want my come, baby? Want me to fill you up again?”

You whined and nodded into your knee, which was pressed next to your face with how Harry was holding you down, “Please!”

You heard a moan from him and then felt him press onto your clit as he continued to plunge into you. He was breathing heavily. The angle was work for him. He had one foot on the floor and his other was on your couch as he fucked down into you, grinding himself in with a swivel of his hips every time he buried himself balls deep.

“Yeah? A greedy girl huh?” He panted, “Wants all my come in her tight hole. Wants to be filled up and fucked and bred, yeah?”

You grunted and felt tears roll down your face as you tried to relax into the position to let him completely take control of you and your body. With his fingers on your clit, your body naturally wanted to chase his movements and press into him further but he had you held down so tight you couldn’t move your limbs or your hips properly.

Harry’s cock massaged your inner walls with each tight thrust down into you. You felt every single bit of him filling you over and over again. His breaths were strangled and he began to groan loudly.

Suddenly he let go of your legs and kneed up to you on the couch, positioning himself over you and pulling your thighs over his hips as he rocked into you in a more intimate position so he could see your face and you could see his.

He looked down over you and brought a hand up to your face, “My pretty, baby. God, look at you,” he cooed as he gently placed his palm over your cheek, never ceasing the movements of his hips as he rocked into you.

You moaned, finally able to use your lungs and your voice properly, as you reached up and put your hands onto his face, “Harry, ohhh…” The feel of his pubic bone pressing into your clit at the new angle had you aching to come.

You watched him hover over you, fucking into you slower than he had been before. His face was flushed and you saw the veins in his neck strain as he gasped.

“Come in me. Please give me your come…” Your words came out broken and breathy but he understood you, keeping his eyes on yours.

“I will baby. Gonna give it to you again. Fertile pussy needs my come doesn’t she?”

Nodding you clenched around him and bucked your hips into his, “Yes!”

But Harry wasn’t going to just come like that. You knew he wouldn’t. He always wanted you to get yours first. His languid strokes, deep and meaningful, the drag of his hips into yours so you could feel him against your clit, the eye contact, his dirty words, “Be a good girl and come for me, baby. If you’re good I’ll stuff you full of my come again. Fuck it all into your tummy like you crave.”

You were already gasping and trembling with your heart thudding rapidly in your chest but his words pushed you over the edge. You panted and sucked in a sharp breath as your orgasm took over your limbs. Your head was spinning as you spasmed around his cock while he continued drilling into you with heavy, wet thrusts.

“Shit… just like that, baby. Good girl!” He coughed his words as he worked you through your ecstasy until his balls contracted and he began to come, letting your tight pussy milk him once again, drinking his come in until you were satisfied. Until he was properly drained, stuffed deep inside of you, panting and twitching as he dipped down to kiss you.

You wrapped your arms around him as he gently laid over you, his lips against yours. He smoothed a palm over your thigh and kept himself buried in your guts until you both parted for air and laughed together.

“God Harry… I can’t get enough of you,” you breathed your words, and Harry’s broad grin as he looked down at you was loving and full of something like joy.

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to feel like you’d had enough. I’ll keep giving until you decide you don’t want anymore.”

You tightened your thighs around him and shook your head, “Never gonna happen. Never gonna have enough. Always gonna want more of you.”

His pink lips quirked up on one side as he gazed over your hot face. You were sure you looked like hell. A sweaty mess, with ratty hair and no makeup.

But that wasn’t how Harry saw it. He looked at you and wondered what would have happened in his life if he’d have been born later, or you’d have been born earlier. Could you have fallen in love and started a family and then things would have been easier for you both? He looked at you and saw the prettiest girl, a smart and fun young woman that he was madly in love with, for better or for worse. He looked at your face and he felt nothing but peace and satisfaction when you looked back into his eyes. He hadn’t been so happy in a long time.

You pushed at him and laughed, “What? I look like I live on the streets don’t I?”

Harry shook his head and pressed his lips to yours before looking back down at you again, “No. You look like my love. My heart. Could use a brush, but you’re still gorgeous,” he laughed his words and you pushed at him again before he tackled you with his mouth and made your heart leap with adoration and affection and tender comfort. You couldn’t have been more at peace.

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @zayndrivesmeinvain @i83andrew @shamelessfangirl-3 @onceagainace @princessprongs @stoneyggirl2 @fairytale07 @princessaxoo @littlenatilda @stylesfever @whoreonmondays @harryspirate @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @harrys-foxy @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry

#harry styles #firstpost #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry #harry edward styles #harry x reader #harry x you #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry styles fiction #harry styles fan fic

[boundinparchment]

Storm’s End

Usually, he can manage just fine when the season comes. Every season, he fights this. And every season, it gets harder and harder to ignore. Until he cannot wait any longer and you are perfect, just as you are.

Neuvillette/Female Reader, in which Neuvillette is a dragon, determined to breed. Explicit sexual content; breeding kink. MDNI.

Story also on AO3; link only accessible for registered users.

Usually, he can manage just fine when the season comes.  Bury himself in work, keep busy, limit his interaction with you until it passes and he is no longer blinded by pure, needy lust.  You are disappointed, nerves frayed, but nonetheless, understanding.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, or force you into a decision all because of his instincts.  Instincts that override all basic logic.

Neuvillette is fighting them as you wish him a good morning.  He can smell the difference in your hormones, your body undergoing your own cycle, priming itself.  Very rarely were you in sync with him.

He swallows.

You’re perfect right now.  He could take you, here in the kitchen, and have you filled to the brim before the pot of coffee has even finished—

“Neuvi?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.  Concern lines your brow for the briefest of seconds.

“Let me help,” you plea.  “Please, Neuvillette, I’m your partner…”

“You do not know what you ask of me, mon cœur.”

“Then tell me.  Prepare me.  How is it any different than what we’ve done before?”

That fire, that fight, in you isn’t helping anything.  Certainly not the strain of his members against his pants.  The knowledge that you are ripe, absolutely divine and essentially guaranteed to bloom only compounds matters more and he grips the top of his cane tighter, gloves squeaking slightly.

Every season, he fights this.  And every season, it gets harder and harder to ignore.

“I cannot stop once I give in,” he says at last.    “Not until…”

You step up to him and whisper teasingly against his lips.

“Then breed me, Neuvillette.”

The last of his self-control snaps as your breath carries every reminder, changed by your hormones.

You are pinned to the kitchen wall in an instant, skirt hiked and panties pushed aside, his forked tongue tasting every inch of your mouth.  His teeth graze your lips and he tastes tiny drops of blood as your moan catches against his tongue.  His fingers delve, finding you not only wet but eager.  He pulls away just enough to take in your swollen lips, flushed face, half-lidded eyes.

Beautiful.  And he intends to make you even more so.

He holds your gaze, under no impression he is composed any longer; your eyes flicker to his lips and you wiggle against him, creating friction that sends a delicious shiver up his spine.  Neuvillette presses you against the wall further.

“There’s no going back,” he says with what little control he can muster.  “You won’t be leaving his house until your womb is full or the season ends.  The former is far more probable.”

It’s your turn for your breath to catch and you swallow audibly.

“Then at least take me in bed, first?” you ask.

The bedroom isn’t far.  In the haze of your musk, Neuvillette manages to swiftly throw you onto the bed, unfasten his belt, and return his mouth to yours with unprecedented speed.  His tips nudge you, one aligned at your clit and the other at your entrance.  Neuvillette cannot help the growl that escapes him as he pushes into you to the hilt.

His strokes are deep and your walls clench, already demanding seed from him; he hasn’t even begun properly and you would see both of you undone in mere seconds.

That won’t stop him.  Not in this state.

You buck against him, meeting stroke for stroke but far too eager to keep a solid pace.

“Both, please, Neuvi.  I can take it,” you whine.  “Want to take it.”

You never have before.  His heart quickens and his cocks throb at the prospect.  He feels pre-cum drip from his exposed tip.

He obliges you without hesitation, withdrawing entirely and slowly parting you with both members.  You are tight, perhaps too tight, and he fights the urge to bury himself immediately.

And then, all is lost.

He can feel nothing but the warm velvet of your walls.  The room fills with your delicious moans and cries and the wet sounds of your coupling, the slap of skin on skin as he lifts your legs and pounds into you.  He has perfect access at this angle.  As your orgasm rips a silent scream from you, Neuvillette shoots deep inside, pumping into you as you ride out the first and then a second peak.

Neuvillette doesn’t leave you and instead helps turn you both onto your sides, facing one another.  You roll your hips, still eager, but your movement is languid and fatigued, your eyes glazed over with satisfaction and exhaustion.

A good session, but not successful.

Not yet.

The mere thought makes him twitch inside you again.  But first, he must let you rest.  It was a delicate balance now between caring for you and seeing to it that his seed took.  And it will.  It is only a matter of when, for he is nothing if not dedicated.

“Sleep for now, mon cœur,” he whispers.  “We are far from finished.”

#neuvillette #neuvillette/female reader #neuvillette x female reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette genshin #neuvilette x reader #tw: smut #tw: breeding #Limited to AO3 temporarily while I navigated mobile nonsense

[rarebreedcoffee]

Wholesale Coffee Roasting Company in New England

Rare Breed Coffee, a wholesale coffee roasting company in New England, has been roasting for over 20 years. Unlike coffee snobs, we’re coffee lovers who believe in making specialty coffee approachable and fun without compromising quality. Join us in rebelling against boring coffee! 

White Label, the White Label Services allow you to sell Rare Breed coffee and tea under your own brand. Ideal for brand-forward companies, we offer graphic design, label design, and label printing services. Rock your own style. Private labeling is also available.

Cafe Consulting offers an a la carte program where you can choose specific services, from equipment and layout to menu building.

Cafe Coaching is a six-week program that combines consulting with a deep dive into how to launch and operate a successful coffee business.

Equipment Services are crucial for the smooth operation of your cafe or coffee shop. Here’s what we offer:

Routine Maintenance: Keep your equipment running efficiently and prevent downtime.

Equipment Repairs: Get back up and running quickly when things break down.

Equipment Installation: We install and program all your coffee equipment.

Barista Training Invest in your staff with our Barista Training programs! Empower them to handle rushes, master latte art, and maintain equipment hygiene. Knowledge is power!

#Rare breed coffee #premium coffee #coffee beans #fresh roasted coffee beans #cafe consulting #wholesale coffee roasting #coffee roasting company #Youtube

[qingxin-dream]

“In Spite of Thorns”

summary | all you needed was a bit more color in your life. something to make life seem not so dull. little did you know the wallflower of a florist next door found himself in a similar dilemma. (art credits: @/MNCE_o on twitter)

warnings | profanity, pining, reader is a horrible flirt, reader gets a tattoo, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, semi-public sex, reader receives oral, face fucking, edging/orgasm denial, mention of cervix-kissing, breeding

genre | florist!kuni au, fluff, slow burn, smut with plot

word count | 5.2k

pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

There was a little flower shop next to your regular morning coffee joint that always caught your eye.

On your way to work, you’d often sit outside the tiny cafe downtown and admire the lovely bouquets sitting pretty in the windowsill next door. You imagined a sweet old lady running such an adorable business, the type to water her flowers early in the morning and know every person who walks through her door.

Much to your surprise, there was only one person attending to the shop—it was a young man with short indigo hair that framed his face and trailed down the back of his neck in soft wisps. You noticed he kept to himself with a stoic expression most of the time. You caught him once switching the flowers on display, it was the only time his face revealed a glimpse of emotion—something deeper and more meaningful than silent indifference.

The city was a place often devoid of the beauty and tranquility nature can offer. It was easy to get lost in the hum-drum of daily life and the grind of your 9-to-5 job, overwhelmed by a concrete cage of skyscrapers. It was frankly depressing when you had those rare moments of self-realization.

So, in an attempt to get a breath of fresh air one morning, you decide to visit the flower shop just a block from your work. The bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter, suddenly surrounded by a sea of beautiful flower arrangements kept in pristine condition. In the back stood the young owner, who didn’t even acknowledge your presence as he focused on his next bouquet behind the counter.

You couldn’t believe the level of detail and craftsmanship in each display, traveling slowly through the store in wonder. Perhaps it is what kept people coming back to this place despite his cold demeanor. He is an artist, there’s no doubt about it.

The sound of wrinkling plastic interrupted the young man’s work as you approached the register, setting down a small arrangement of daises in front of him. He grunted, giving you a slightly annoyed glare, quickly ringing up your purchase.

“It’s $10, even,” he says blandly, already looking back at his little flower project on the workbench impatiently.

You oblige without a word, awkwardly glancing around and silently noting his name badge which read ‘Kuni.’

“Your receipt,” he snatches the small paper and hands it to you.

“Thanks, Kuni. Have a good one,” you attempt to break the ice, but the young man has already turned his back to you to continue putting together his next artwork. A bit dejected, you leave with the daisies in hand. Maybe that was stupid.

You kept the tiny bouquet of daisies on your desk at work. Just having a bit of greenery was enough to lift your spirits when the day would take a turn for the worse. They were so delicate and cute, it had you tempted to visit the flower shop again. It was on the way to work anyway, why not?

At least, that was your excuse. I mean, you couldn’t deny that the young florist was easy on the eyes, despite his thorns.

Slowly but surely, you developed a new morning routine. You had become a familiar face to Kuni, the grumpy and closed-off flower shop owner. Around 7:30am, you’d walk into his humble store with a coffee in hand from the cafe next door, greeting him with a small “good morning.” You’d often casually wander around the store, asking about flower species or meanings to his arrangements.

It took awhile before Kuni was willing to indulge much in conversation. Typical responses came in the form of an eye roll, a scoff, or quips about having something better to do under his breath. Though, if you asked the right question, Kuni would occasionally come around the counter to help.

You swear it was like watching a flower bloom in real time with the way Kuni’s entire expression melted softly when he spoke about his arrangements. What once was but a shy sprout became a beautiful swirl of petals, full of life.

Kuni would reach beside you, awkwardly brushing his arm or his chest against you on accident. He would take the bouquet you were curious about and present it to you with subdued pride, caressing the blossoms. Colors, shapes, lengths, petals, ribbons—everything had significance and Kuni loved to teach you the nuances of his passion.

The days were beginning to feel like they pass by quicker. You woke up with a new reason to roll out of bed, lured by the taste of your usual miel coffee and the sweet aroma of flowers.

The chimes of the doorbell eventually had Kuni slightly jumping out of skin when you strolled through, a faint flush of color on his cheeks. His gaze would follow you intently from the corner of his eye, a small smile adorning his lips.

As an artist, he possessed an incredible attention to detail, picking up on your name that was scribbled on the side of your coffee cup; or how you carefully waded through the rows and rows endless flowers with curiosity crinkled on your cute brows. He discovered that your favorite color is blue. You like cream but not sugar. You love rainy days. You avert your eyes before saying hi.

Kuni soon found himself keeping note of these little details in his small notepad, though you simply thought he was scribbling business to-do’s.

Every other week or so, you’d need a new set of flowers for your desk and Kuni was content to offer his personal favorites. He quite enjoyed these mornings with you, as other customers typically visited around lunch or after 5pm to gift flowers to their spouses or loved ones. He’d never openly admit how you managed to melt his cold exterior and warm his heart as time passed.

You learned more about each other as the seasons changed and naturally became good friends. You were more than a regular to him. He found himself interested in hearing you talk about your day. Tell him about that terrible work meeting or the prank your coworker pulled on your boss. Who are your friends? Do you have a pet at home? Anyone significant in your life?

Kuni wanted to know everything about you.

There came one day that you approached him with a mischievous smirk on your face. He eyed you suspiciously, taking off his gloves and folding his arms over his apron. You had trouble written all over your face.

“Morning, Kuni,” you approached the counter immediately, interlacing your fingers together around your coffee cup.

Something is definitely up with you. He raises an eyebrow, finding your unusual mood to be amusing. “I have a feeling you have something to say.”

“Indeed I do,” you couldn’t help yourself, grinning widely with excitement brimming in your eyes. You looked like you were going to burst from laughter. “I need your expert opinion.”

On cue, he rolls his eyes at your adorable antics. “Well? Out with it.”

“I want a tattoo,” you confess, the enthusiasm you were feeling a moment ago now shifting into embarrassment for some reason. You had worked up the courage all night to ask for Kuni’s advice, imagining a hundred different ways it could possibly go. It was too late to take it back now.

“A tattoo? You’d be the last person I’d expect to want something like that,” Kuni deadpans with a hint of confusion and condescension. “Why do you need my opinion? I think you look just fine without one.”

It’s not that he disliked tattoos. The florist simply appreciated your natural beauty, and didn’t want you to regret permanently marking your body. It seems you weren’t entirely as incorruptible as he initially thought.

“I just want to try something new,” you sigh, pursing your lips to express your dissatisfaction. You held your breath, tapping on the side of your coffee cup before adding, “I’m plain. And boring. I don’t even have a piercing.”

Kuni frowned. He had no idea where this self-loathing behavior was coming from, but he was determined to snuff out any reservations you had about yourself. “You’re pretty just the way you are, (Y/N).”

You refuse to accept that answer, shaking your head. “C‘mon, you don’t think I’d look cute with a small tattoo? Something tasteful. Not even a flower tattoo?”

“I mean—it’s hard to imagine you with any tattoos,” he replied before finally relenting his distaste with a noncommittal shrug. “But I suppose, if anything, a flower could only make your skin lovelier.”

His mind was already turning its gears, wondering what spurred this sudden desire to change. He lamented the idea of you being unhappy with yourself. If this is what would make you smile again, then Kuni resolved to support you as any friend should.

“Good, because I figured my favorite florist could pick out a flower for me,” your eyes sparkled playfully, waiting for his reaction.

Putting his hand on his forehead, Kuni huffs and slowly runs his palm down his face as if he is annoyed. Truthfully, he was hoping to wipe the warmth that quickly flooded his cheeks completely off. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him a flustered mess over you.

He runs a free hand through his hair, sighing softly. “Why not roses? Everyone does that.”

Your bottom lip poked out in a pout at his answer. This isn’t the response you expected at all. You didn’t understand him sometimes. Groaning, you dramatically tilt your head in momentary frustration and take his hand in yours, pleadingly.

“Really, Kuni? That’s the most cliché shit ever,” you grumble, though it’s more like a whine as you give him puppy eyes. “I’m being serious. What comes to mind when you think of me?”

The question is innocent enough, but feels like a punch to his gut—stealing the breath right from his lungs. If only you knew what you were asking of him.

Every day he imagines you walking through the door of his flower shop, a pretty smile on your face and a cup of black tea in your hand just for him. He would thank you softly and take your cheek in his warm palm, leaning in to kiss you before the store opens. His fingers would trail down your neck, his thumb nudging your head to the side to give him easier access to that sensitive spot on your neck, lips parting and ready to taste the desire on your skin.

He had to stop himself.

“What about… peonies? It blooms beautifully—a huge blossom with a strong, sweet fragrance.” The florist clears his throat after a brief pause, nervously searching your expression. If you were keen, you’d catch the tips of his ears burning bright pink. “An unmistakable flower that can convey so much… in less than a few words.”

Kuni happens to pull a red peony from the flowers he has scattered on his workbench for his upcoming arrangement, hesitating for a second before extending it sheepishly to you. You’re too caught up in the moment to notice how the dainty flower trembles slightly in his fingertips.

It’s perfect. You bring the peony to your nose, eyelashes fluttering up at Kuni appreciatively. He swears his heart skips a beat.

“I love it,” you exhale, offering the peony back to him. You feel invigorated, elated even, to have found a subject for your first tattoo. It had to be something meaningful, and naturally your first thought was Kuni. “Thank you, I promise to stop by to show you when it’s done.”

Before the lovestruck florist could say a word, you were running out the door, bells chiming at your departure. He held the red peony to his nose, closing his eyes and thinking of you.

It had been a few days since you stopped by, which was unusual.

Kuni tried not to dwell on it. You were a busy person and, of course, had your own life outside of him. He shouldn’t be upset that you suddenly ghosted him, yet he can sense a dreadful feeling crawling into his heart.

The doorbell rings, but the young flower shop owner doesn’t bother to see who entered. Of the hundreds of people who have visited his store in the time that you’ve been gone, none of them were you.

He turns to the counter to water a few flowers, his gaze flickering to the customer, and he can’t stop the way his jaw slowly drops. Standing a few feet away at his newest bouquet display is you all dolled up in a pretty little sundress that stops at your mid-thigh and hugs your figure nicely.

Most notably, your dress has an open back which reveals a plethora of peonies inked down the curve of your spine in an elegant and minimalist design. It’s utterly gorgeous.

“H-hey,” Kuni speaks up, sounding lost as he furrowed his eyebrows at you. His expression was beyond adorable, simply starstruck.

You glanced at the florist from over your shoulder, snickering since he accidentally let his guard slip more than usual. You cover your mouth, giggling at him, “Kuni, I think you’re overwatering the flowers.”

“Shit,” he curses to himself, immediately putting down the small water can on the counter with a light splash. Grumbling under his breath, he tries to drain the pot. “Where the hell have you been, by the way?”

“I took some time off work, sorry,” you admit, but really you were more interested in showing off the final product of your new tattoo. You happily twirl around in your tiny sundress and strike a goofy pose, the frilly ends spinning hypnotically around your upper thighs. “So…?”

All of Kuni’s irritation with his embarrassing mishap washes away as he watches you excitedly spin around, flaunting your curves and the work of art now inked on your back. He smirks and mutters quietly, “I think I like peonies a whole lot more now.”

You brush your hair to the side so he can see the full tattoo. “Haha, come look at it then!”

His heart fluttered, quickly taking off his dirty gardener’s gloves to take a closer look. Every step towards you made his mind race and his breath a little shallow, you were stunning if he was being completely honest. He felt even more attracted to you with such an amazing work of art spanning your back, and to top it off—he was your inspiration—just as you were secretly his muse.

Without thinking, the florist’s fingertips lightly brush your spine in silent admiration. You immediately tense and gasp at the unexpected contact.

He snaps out of his thoughts and recoils in horror. “Sorry, sorry. I-I wasn’t… I, uh…”

You laugh and smile in understanding. “It’s fine. You surprised me is all. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet, he was still compelled to continue tracing the contours of the raven-colored ink over the surface of your soft skin. You said it was fine. You were okay with it. He was overthinking it, right?

“C-can I ask why, of all people, you wanted me to pick your first tattoo?” Kuni was still trying to make sense of everything in his head. He was secretly terrified that he was projecting his own feelings onto you, and masked it behind a playful smile of disbelief.

“Well,” you brushed your hair back over your shoulders and finally turned to face him. Your sundress was just as cute in the front, Kuni smiles to himself. A faint blush dusts your precious little cheeks. “I think I’ve adopted your affinity for flowers. Saying everything while saying nothing at all... it’s poetic, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t have to get a tattoo just for me,” Kuni joked to make light of the situation, throwing in a faint grunt of disapproval and an eye roll. He was sure you picked a flower just to appease him since he was originally against the idea.

In reality, he was more than touched by your thoughtfulness.

There was a peculiar glint in your expression that the florist couldn’t quite place. He felt drawn in. You took a petal from the newest bouquet on display between your index and thumb, caressing the soft blossom.

“I mean, your flower arrangements are always so beautiful, and you handle them with so much care,” you trail off, staring at the bouquet with an indiscernible emotion. Then, in a whisper followed by a smile, you continue, “Maybe I was jealous.”

His gut reaction is to chuckle to hide his reddened face. He didn’t know what to think of it. Surely you were joking.

“Jealous, huh?” Kuni repeats with amusement lining the smirk slowly spreading across his face. “That I touch these flowers with more care than… say, touching you? Is that it?”

However, instead of laughing along, you blush a deeper shade of crimson that rivals his own and to boot, you take your lower lip between your teeth. “S-so you admit it?”

“Admit what?” he scoffs, brushing off your reaction as if you didn’t just confess to wanting his touch. He couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you genuinely had an interest in him. He was in denial, rationalizing every detail in the back of his mind. Where this was going, he had no clue.

As he continued to wage this internal war with himself, attempting to play a kind of 4-D chess to stay a step ahead of you, he neglected the most obvious conclusion. “Y-you really want me to…?”

Poor Kuni had let his mind run in circles this whole time and he was made the fool. You were trying to flirt with him.

You glance to the door of the flower shop, which sported a cute homemade sign that read ‘Come In, We’re Open!’ from the outside. Shifting uncomfortably, you keep your thighs closed tight. That glimmer in your eyes was no longer cloudy but clear as day to the florist—lustful—and he quite liked the way it reflected in your watercolor irises.

A small chuckle escapes your lips, the redness in your cheeks never leaving. You hoped that Kuni could read between the lines. “D-do you take custom orders? Because, I actually, uh, have a special flower I want you to use.”

“Oh?” he knew exactly what you were asking now, heat creeping up his neck at an alarming rate. The tension between your bodies is palpable at this point, as his fingers still hover over your back where he had touched you accidentally. “You know, I’d like to think I’m well-acquainted with many flower species, but… maybe you could enlighten me.”

He wanted you, truly. But part of Kuni had reservations about going this fast.

His attention snapped to you when he felt your fingers on his chest, fiddling with the flower pinned to his apron. Your voice softened and sounded sweet as honey, “You are the florist. I trust that you are a capable man, Kuni.”

“Well, I-I suppose I’d want to give this my utmost attention,” he begins, the back of his fingers graze your cheek down to your jaw, locking eyes with you. This is the stuff fantasies are made of, and here you are batting your pretty eyes at him.

“I wouldn’t mind closing the shop just for you.”

Amid the noise and bustle of the city, the people passing the storefront were none the wiser to the windows of the flower shop, curtains drawn to prevent any prying eyes. The door was locked shut, unusual for this time of day, but no customers would be stopping by any time soon. A sign hung in the window of the door reading ‘Sorry! We’re Closed!’

Even the lights were off, bathing the assortment of embellished bouquet displays in darkness. Near the florist’s workbench in the back of the store, a single lamp cast a warm ray over his newest obsession spread nice and ready for him. A pair of electrifying purple eyes drifted down his favorite fascination, admiring his work thus far—a smattering of hickeys trailing down your bare body. Your beautiful skin was his willing canvas.

The weight of Kuni’s gaze had your cunt twitch around nothingness in anticipation. Your only consolation lied behind your eyelids, edging yourself with the sweet delusion of his pulsing cock grazing your clit before guiding it to your desperate hole. Archons, you could almost envision how it would feel for his tip to venture across every ridge of your walls for the first time.

You needed it, craved it. No, you ached for it—as if you were missing a part of your soul that would make you whole.

Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips brushing on your supple thighs. How he had unraveled you out of every layer of clothing yet never set his sights on your pretty pussy was unfathomable. Art cannot be rushed, after all.

Kuni was taking his sweet time to memorialize the texture of your skin on his, to taste and devour you slowly in every possible sense. His imagination was the limit, and for now he was blissfully chasing your sensual little noises like a dream on the clouds of your lips.

His warm, muscular hand traveled across the round curve of your hip, gripping the plump flesh in reverence, and then snaked it up your back. You whimpered into his mouth as his soft tongue teased yours. He smiled, knowing that deep down you were beginning to reach your breaking point.

Kuni’s voice was smooth and inviting, “Mm, (Y/N), you know why I chose peonies?”

With each vertebrae the pads of his fingers discovered, tracing your tattoo, your spine arched just a little more into his toned chest. The corners of his mouth turn up into an adoring smile, long eyelashes framing the depth of the devotion imprinted in his expression. Your occasional soft gasps of need urged him to capture your lips in a chaste kiss intermittently.

“Your smile… reminds me of yellow peonies. Of new beginnings, every morning,” Kuni chuckles quietly to himself between kisses, intertwining his other hand in your hair. His thumb coaxes your jaw to open for him further, swirling his tongue with yours before rewarding you with the heavenly sensation of his lips once more.

“And in your absence,” he continues, taking your lower lip between his teeth to emphasize the emotions behind his words. “Like a soft pink peony, I realize how much I’m missing without you.”

“Mm, miss you too,” you lean into the florist’s mouth as he tries to pull away, not yet ready to part. He obliged with a smug exhale through his nose, hot breath tickling your lips as he nuzzles you. The atmosphere was thick with temptation, both of you closing your eyes to relish in the tension—such satisfaction feels even better when it’s just out of reach.

“When you walk through that door, you’re more beautiful than the day before… as lovely as a white peony,” Kuni let his hand fall from your hair to your collarbone, reminding you of the love bites he marked you with in a fit of passion earlier.

Licking his lips, the indigo-haired florist embarked to kiss every single inch of your body leading to the delectable curve of your breasts. As he neared your aerola, he couldn’t help but give it an affectionate lick and gentle suck, smirking when your nipple hardened involuntarily.

You whimper again, squeezing your thighs together. However, Kuni had planted himself firmly between your legs where you sat on the counter, purposely pulling back to push the bulge of his erection onto your core to remind you of your place. Don’t you dare keep your petals a secret.

“I bet you didn’t even know,” he almost scoffs, pinching your nipple as punishment and studying the squeeze of your eyelids in desperation. “That many of my arrangements were made in the image of you… with all those hot pink peonies.”

It’s not long before Kuni brings his lips back to your breasts, addicted to the sound of your soft pants. He sneaks his way down your abdomen, dragging his wet tongue along the alluring stretch towards your pelvis in sloppy kisses. As he finds himself kneeled in front of you, suddenly he hooks your knees around his shoulders to pull your pretty flower to his attention, earning a yelp from you.

He has you exactly where he wants you. Before you can react, Kuni is already diving his mouth between your soft thighs. You immediately dig your fingers into his purple locks, grabbing a fistful to temper his enthusiasm. “K-Kuni!”

The florist pauses, lust-riddled eyes flickering seductively up to you with bated breath. The way his eyebrow quirks up at you exudes a new kind of confidence you had never seen on him before, causing your protests to slowly die in your throat. “What? Don’t trust a professional?”

Kuni’s expression is downright carnal, flicking his tongue out at you teasingly. Your grip on his hair loosens, though he catches the pout of your lips. “I-I trust you.”

“Good, baby,” he exhales, wasting no time in closing the gap to your flower. “Because I’m about to show you the meaning of my favorite color peony.”

You attempt to relax as he nudges his nose between your folds, slowly gliding his tongue over your pussy. It’s an experimental first taste of paradise, one that evokes an erotic sigh of pleasure from you. Kuni hums in contentment against your clit, his humid breath tickling every crevice of your delicious cunt.

Circling his tongue around the sensitive bud, Kuni hangs on to every luscious moan and silent plea for more that spills from you. It spurs him to lick your core eagerly, occasionally taking your outer labia between his lips and briefly but gently sucking it in a wet kiss.

“F-fuck,” you mumble in a hot whine, running both of your hands through the florist’s hair to see how his eyebrows knit together prettily. He’s so focused on pleasing you, slurping the intoxicating concoction that is your essence and his saliva dribbling down his chin. It was so tantalizing, it had you bucking your hips into his face.

Kuni abruptly grabbed your sides to steady himself, and grunted lowly in response. He flatly licked your folds, then moving to suckle your clit. Your groans were making him so utterly taken with you, sliding a hand back down in his boxers to smear precum over the throbbing tip of his erection and fist his length.

All he could do is mutter sweet nothings into the wet cavern of your pussy, praising you for tasting so divine and even letting him please you like this. He traces your folds sensually, eventually pushing his tongue deeper into your plush walls. The sensation is more than enough to have you a whimpering mess, tugging Kuni’s head closer and fucking your cunt onto his tongue.

Your thighs tighten around the florist’s head, but he honestly doesn’t mind if he passes out from a lack of oxygen. In fact, Kuni buries his tongue even further into you, if possible, while his nose teases your aching clit. All of it was worth hearing you beg for him to make you cum.

“O-oh my fucking god, mm,” you whisper, voice dripping with desire. “Y-yes, yes, yes… ‘m so close.”

He nods in acknowledgement, smirking and chuckling into your cunt while salacious groans of his own pour from his lips. Without warning, Kuni rips himself away and wipes his face, leveling his cock with your sopping entrance and nestling just the tip in. You didn’t have time to mourn the loss of your climax as it was replaced with the unexpected girth of his length, your hole fluttering instantaneously.

“Aghhh, goddamnit,” he curses under his breath, verging on a growl. You weren’t used to this side of him, but every surprise had you wanting to see more. He slams his hands on the table on either side of you, lavender eyes glued to the hypnotic spasm of your lovely pussy around his cock. “I can’t believe you’re so tight—just for me.”

“Please,” you mewl, legs wrapped his hips to slowly pull the florist closer and bury his cock just an inch further. The hazy glint in your irises said everything. You swallow thickly, “I need you so bad, Kuni.”

He entangled himself in you, inhaling your scent as he held you tightly by the waist and bottomed out inside of your heavenly walls. Oh, you were simply in a state of breathless ecstasy, melting into his arms. The feeling of fullness within you was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and Kuni’s first real thrust had your legs shaking.

It wasn’t enough. How could he be satisfied without knowing his cock kissed your cervix and bred you nicely?

Nuzzling into your neck, Kuni forced you to the edge of the counter by your ass, giving him better access to relentlessly pound that pretty pussy of yours. You took the hint and laying down on your back submissively, resting your ankles on his shoulders. The florist didn’t dare stop his movements, growing more and more drunk on the mesmerizing sound of your pussy taking him so well.

His hand groped at the bouncing flesh of your breasts. “Archons, (Y/N), why are you so fucking beautiful?”

Kuni’s head leaned onto your left calf, eyes trained only on you in a loving gaze, before turning to kiss your leg as he leisurely fucked you. His hand roamed south of your breasts and planted his thumb on your clit in tight circles, gripping your leg harder against his chest to keep you in place. He wasn’t about to let you squirm away from the pleasure he’s so kindly giving you.

At this point, you were beyond trying to keep your composure. Slutty groans of euphoria filled the humble little shop with every slap of your skin on his. He had you begging, pleading in hot tears for your release. Kuni had repeatedly tempted, teased, and edged you beyond comprehension.

Now here you were yearning for your climax like a whore.

“Ah, fuck, hah… yes, please, please…!” you panted, loving the way Kuni was using you like his perfect little cocksleeve. He looked so sexy with sweat on his brow and his bangs messily sticking to his forehead, the raw girth of his cock stretching you so good with each thrust. Frankly, you were reduced to incoherent babbling—coaxing the peak of both your climaxes. “Mm, so, so good. Gonna… gonna cum, I-I…”

“Mhmm, it’s okay, yeah… ‘m gonna fucking cum all in you,” Kuni frantically nods, sucking in a sharp breath and trembling all over as he cums simultaneously with you. He keeps his cock fully sheathed in your pulsating pussy, a myriad of praises and curses flow freely between the both of you. “Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

“Nnghh, yes,” you replied with guttural enthusiasm, eyes rolling in the back of your head as your orgasm washes away. “I fucking love you.”

Kuni is barely able to support you in the aftershock of that mind-breaking pleasure, clutching you to his chest and breathing wildly. Whether it was the sex talking or not, he didn’t care. He had you in this moment and would never let go, he vowed.

The florist’s eyes flickered to a bouquet of red peonies sitting on his workbench with a soft smile.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

#posting 2 fics in 2 days bc i’m actually crazy lmao🤪🥰 #[opulent dreams].✿ #[dreams of delusion].✿ #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin fatui #genshin scaramouche #genshin kunikuzushi #genshin wanderer #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut

[wildestdreamsblog]

Baby Fever

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: You were more than just a secretary to him.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Breeding kink, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: hiiii! I haven’t felt as inspired as I did while writing this for a while 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!

“I want a baby.”

You sputtered out the coffee you were drinking. Your eyes watered as you coughed. You tried to get your breathing under control as you looked at the imposing man sitting in front of you with his legs spread apart. He had not lifted his eyes from the laptop presented in front of him. He was idly looking at photos of paintings from the various exhibits you attended while he was busy with his group’s schedule. As an idol, and on top of that the leader of the biggest group today, Kim Namjoon was an extremely busy person. You were his secretary for almost four years now. You took care of his personal life, while his personal assistant took care of his work life. You were there for him whenever he was done with his work schedule. You were there to make sure that he remembered to call his family during their birthdays, special occasions, and holidays. In fact, you were the first person he was keen on seeing once he landed from whatever country they were in for work. His members, specially Taehyung and Seokjin, let you know time and time again how much you were appreciated. If you weren’t there, they thought that Namjoon would not be as put up as he was right now. You thought that Namjoon would survived without you.

You coughed twice before finally feeling like you could live. “What?” You asked him in confusion before wiping your self with the handkerchief he had somehow laid out in front of you.

Namjoon eventually looked up to you once he marked the photos of paintings he wanted to purchase. He leaned in, resting his elbow on his muscular thigh before plopping his chin on his hand. “I said, I want a baby.”

You squinted your eyes confusingly, “As in…baby as in baby? Or baby as in I don’t know? Not an actual baby?” You knew even as you asked what he meant. Namjoon was the most intelligent man you knew, and he did not make mistakes when conversing. In fact, he was such a great conversationalist that the media loved to invite him on their shows.

So…what brought this on?

“A child of my own, Y/N.”

That was not the first time he mentioned that. If you could remember clearly, he answered in some interviews that he really wanted to become a father. He even bought that cute little shoes when he was abroad just because. In your mind, you knew he would be the best father if how he took care of his members was any indicator. It broke your heart, though, to see him still alone after all this time.

“I mean…are you seeing someone that I’m not aware of?”

He blinked at you, absorbing what you were asking. How could he had another woman when he spent almost all his free time with you? “No.”

“T-then how?” You asked in puzzlement. You could see from his expression that he was serious about this. He rarely said anything without thinking it thoroughly in the complex and brilliant mind of his. This meant that he really did want to have a child of his own now.

You were finding it difficult to process this. Couldn’t he just want another painting?

Namjoon merely shrugged his broad shoulders and went back to looking over the paintings.

You thought that was the end of it. But no. The second time he mentioned this was at Jin’s house.

You two were about to call it a day after running errands for him. To be honest, you were quite excited for tonight. You were set to meet with your college friends, including someone you always looked up to back in your college years because of his superior intellect. He was also always so kind to you, even walked you home to your dorm every night. But you were too immense in your studies back then that you had no time for relationship. But maybe, now?

You made sure to take more time to dress yourself up this morning. You even chose to swap your usual lipstick to a different shade that made you feel more alluring and beautiful. Your fingers touched the beautiful necklace Namjoon gave you on your birthday last year. You thought that the accessory was perfect with the dress you were wearing.

This would be an easy day for you, you thought to yourself seeing that RM’s schedule was just until the afternoon. You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with your appearance before leaving the house. When you showed up at the company to pick him up, the staff politely informed you that the leader was still in the studio with Yoongi and that he told them to ask you to go directly there. You were walking to the floor where the studio was when you passed the three maknaes: Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

“Oh, noona!” Jungkook called you, his voice in pleasant surprised as he looked at your face. His doe eyes took in your clothes with wonder before meeting your eyes again. “Noona! You look so pretty!”

Taehyung smiled at you and nodded his head. “Our noona looks so fashionable,” he commented as he checked out your get up today. You beamed at his compliment, happy that the fashionable Taehyung approved of you.

Jimin sauntered up to you, teasingly wrapping his arm around your shoulders before smirking at you. “Our noona has a date,” he speculated on a sing-song voice that made the other two chuckled.

“So where is hyung taking you?” Jungkook pondered, excitement apparent in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me he’s taking you to another exhibit? Aish, he’s so unromantic,” Taehyung lamented, shaking his head at the thought of his hyung and the disastrous date that was about to happen.

“Hyung is not unromantic! As if you know anything about romance,” Jungkook pouted, fully on defending mode for his Namjoon hyung. His lips were in an adorable pout as he chastised Taehyung.

“I know how to be romantic!”

“As if! Until when are you going to keep giving tickets to her until she shows up in our concerts, Taehyung?”

“She will! I can still see her commenting in the weverse!”

“So? Her bias is J-hope, not you!”

You chuckled at the three’s cuteness. Taehyung was now the one pouting while Jungkook looked like he was enjoying tormenting his hyung. You watched them for a moment before finally correcting them. “He’s my boss. We’re not going on a date.”

The three maknaes looked at you with confusion in their eyes. “B-but, why are you so beautiful today?”

You squinted your eyes at Jimin, “So I’m not beautiful everyday?”

“N-No! That’s not what we meant-“Jungkook denied quickly, his eyes widening even further. He was afraid of offending his noona because then, his hyung would looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.

You chuckled lightly, deciding on ending their distress by telling them that you were going to meet with your college friends tonight, in which they were silent. They looked at each other for a moment, as though speaking in telepathy before the oldest maknae spoke up.

“So noona, is that an all-girls event, or no?”

“There’s going to be boys. Why do you ask?”

He smiled at you cheekily, but this time the smile did not reach his eyes. “Nothing.”

The three maknaes watched you walked away from them, your eyes focused on the tablet in front of you. They sighed in disappointment and worry.

“Namjoon hyung is going to lose his mind,” Taehyung finally broke the silence.

“I don’t want to be here when he finds out noona is going to meet boys from her college,” Jungkook fretted, holding both Tae’s and Jimin’s arms.

“RM is going to be unbearable after this, isn’t he?” Jimin stated with a smile that looked more like a wince. The few times you went out on a date, Namjoon was insufferable. He was quiet, too quiet that the maknaes were scared to make a mistake or speak too loudly. “Shall we move to the mountains for a while?”

Yoongi opened the door, smiling politely at you before letting you in the studio. RM’s back faced you as he hunched over the workspace. He was deciding on what beat sounded best when you arrived.

“You’re here, Y/N? I’m almost done-“ he trailed off once he turned his chair to look at you. His eyes widened before he managed to erase the awestruck expression in his face. But Yoongi saw. He smirked before sitting down on his workstation, looking up at the pair in front of him. The other one was an idiot despite being the most intelligent man in almost any room, and the other was a naive one. He hid his smile on the cup of coffee he was slowly sipping.

“No worries, Namjoon. Take your time,” you smiled at him before sitting on the sofa. He was still not able to take his eyes off of you. And you, the ever naive one, only flashed him your professional smile.

And Yoongi was enjoying it all.

“You looked different today, Y/N,” Yoongi commented tonelessly, egging the leader beside him. “Right, Namjoon?”

You blushed as you could feel your boss’ heavy eyes on you. You flashed Yoongi a shy smile before turning to look at Namjoon. It was a moment, a heartbeat too long before he replied with seriousness in his voice, “She always looks beautiful, Yoongi.”

He wanted to add that you looked like a masterpiece, one that had different meanings whenever he looked at it during different times in his life. You were timeless, his heart wanted to add. However, his brain was deaf in his heart’s true desires.

You blinked at his sudden praise on you. “T-thank you, Namjoon.”

“Is there an occasion?” Yoongi asked innocently after reading the message sent by the maknaes about you and your supposedly college reunion. He almost chuckled when he read that the three were planning on staying as far from the company as possible. But not him. This was fun to him. In his opinion, the two of you should have been in a relationship for a long time now. He thought Namjoon needed the push, or a shove if Suga was being honest. And he was willing to be the one to do that. He was a kind friend like that.

“Oh, I have a reunion with my college friends tonight,” you shared as you fixed the papers that Namjoon needed to look at. You wanted to be efficient today so Namjoon could use the rest of the day to finally relax. You thought his eyes looked a little tired lately.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Namjoon noted lightly, fixing you with his hard stare. “What time are you going to meet them? Where are you going to meet? Will you be out late?”

Yoongi was smiling as he watched RM threw question after question at you. Yet, he failed to ask one thing that should be asked.

“Are there gonna be boys, Y/N?” Yoongi asked innocently, blinking owlishly at you before leaning back and watching it all unfold.

Your affirmative answer made RM’s mood turned sour.

You were on edged as you drove the car expertly from the last location of the schedule today. Even at his age, people around Namjoon still adamantly refused to let him drive. The members thought that he would be a danger to people around him, and to himself as well. Namjoon was uncharacteristically silent as you drove. He was either staring at you or outside. Ever since you picked him up from the company, you could feel that something was off. You just could not pinpoint at it. On the other hand, Namjoon was contemplating…or more appropriately scheming as to how he could keep you with him today.

“Let’s go to Jin’s,” he finally broke the silence, flashing you his normal, dimpled smile.

“What?” This was not in the schedule today. You purposely scheduled light meetings today so that he could go home and you would have more than an ample time to drive to the reunion.

“It’s still early. I promise we’re only going to be an hour.”

Lie.

“Ahhhh actual people!” Jin greeted when he opened the door and saw you and Namjoon. He was carrying the box of baby books he insisted would be helpful to the brain development of Jin’s son.

“Hyung, your son is an actual person,” Namjoon said in a light tone as he took in Jin’s state. Despite the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome that fans would still call him the worldwide handsome. He looked tired, but his eyes held so much happiness that RM could not helped but be happy for his hyung. At the same time, he wanted, no, he craved the domesticity that Jin was now experiencing.

The men were talking and laughing about work as Jin’s wife lead you to her son. You cooed at the child and thought that he would break a lot of hearts in the future. He was a carbon copy of Jin. He was laughing at you when you made funny faces at him, the melodious laughter reached the men’s ears.

“He likes you,” Jin commented, fondly watching his handsome son babbled and laughed. “Do you want to hold him?” His lovely wife asked.

“Really? Can I?” You asked in wonder. She smiled at you before gently laying the happy child safely in your arms.

Your heart melted as you held Jin’s little bundle of joy. The little weight you were holding was someone else’s whole world. He was barely six months old and yet he had so much personality like his father.

“You’re so beautiful, little one,” you whispered to the baby looking up at you as if he understood every word you said.

Namjoon could not even begin to decipher what it was he was feeling when he saw you holding the little Jin in your arms. He just felt this warm feeling in his heart, as if the image of you holding a baby in your arms was from a dream come true. The image was forever imprinted in his mind, he was sure. Something about you felt right. Something about you felt like the missing piece in his life. You had always been there for him. He was not ignorant to think that he could survive without you in his hectic life.

He thought that you were meant to stay in his life.

You were so focused that you almost missed the heat from Namjoon’s body when he leaned in and looked at the baby from your shoulder. You could feel his breath this close that it made you heart beat louder. Was it from shocked? Was it from shyness? Or was it from something else that you had spent years denying?

“So precious,” Namjoon whispered softly. You jumped from the deepness of his voice. You shivered from the body contact you were not used to. You cleared your throat before turning to him.

“Do you wanna hold him?”

And once he had the tiny human in his muscular arms, Namjoon smiled tenderly at Jin’s son. He brushed the sparse of hair he had on his head gently.

For the second time, he said, “I want a baby of my own.”

You were surprised that he once again brought it up. This time it was not only to you but to his hyung. Jin blinked as if he was startled by RM’s admission. He looked at you before looking at his friend.

“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Namjoon,” Jin said in all seriousness. He knew he would. He was sure of it.

“When will you start making a baby of your own, Namjoon?” His wife asked him teasingly, leaning against Jin as they looked at the man observingly.

RM glanced at you, “Soon.”

You were already an hour too late to be considered fashionably late that RM insisted that he’d have his driver dropped you off to your reunion. You wanted to say no, yet you knew it would be impossible to resist Namjoon whenever he was in that mood. He always knew how to get his way, you thought. His intelligent mind knew just what to do, just what to say in order to get what he wanted.

And that night, he did.

Your college friends looked at you happily when you stepped out of the car. They walked closer to you, welcoming you to the party. And there you saw him, the man you hadn’t been able to forget. He was still as handsome as ever. You couldn’t help but smile when he was approaching when you felt a presence behind you.

“Hi. I just dropped off Y/N. I’m sorry she’s late,” RM greeted the group charmingly before nonchalantly placing his large hand on your waist. You jumped from the contact. He never did that. What would your friends think? Your head was in overdrive that you didn’t notice your friends fawning over the Kim Namjoon. He was treating them kindly, allowing them to take pictures with him before he turned to you.

“Enjoy your night, Y/N,” he murmured before placing a kiss on your cheek.

Well, there went your chance with your college crush.

You didn’t know what to make of his actions that when you went to his house the following week for information pertaining to the property he was looking at, you were on edged. You didn’t have to knock because he told you before to just enter his penthouse. You were given access to his home. You took a deep breath before walking inside his house, not knowing what to anticipate with him, with his touch…and that kiss that should not have happened.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here! Come sit!” Namjoon’s mom called from his dining table, smiling pleasantly at you that you froze. You didn’t expect her here but at least there was a buffer between the two of you now, right?

“It’s been so long! You’re so thin! Is my son too hard on you?” She asked as she pulled you to sit beside her, in front of RM who only looked intently at you. You couldn’t read his expression. He was wearing a simple black shirt that fit a little too snugly on his chest. You hated how you were noticing yet again his physical qualities like you did when you were merely starting. His mom was still reprimanding his son as she put plate in front of you despite you offering to help. She merely shrugged you off, happy that you were there to take care of her son. Who knew what would happen to him if you weren’t here, she thought. RM was silently eating, enjoying the way his mom was mothering you when she turned her attention to him once again.

“When will you give me a grandchild? With the way you are working, you have no time for family! All my friends and neighbors have at least one grandchild. Son, just give me one, okay? Just one,” She pleaded as she placed more food on his plate.

“Okay, omma,” Namjoon consented. He was serious, yet his mother groaned as if he was just placating her.

“You,” she turned to you, placing more food on your plate as well. “Don’t be like my son. Go make your own babies! I’ll just borrow your child every once in a while, okay?” She told you humorously as she laughed and told you that you needed to eat more.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the man’s face darkened with the mere thought of you carrying someone else’s child. He hated the thought of you not being his. He had the whole weekend to think intensely, and all the answers pointed to you.

You didn’t have time to discuss with him what had transpired. The following weeks, he was busy with work, yet this time he had always quietly ordered that you’d be with him. Before, you only had to meet with him thrice a week. But now, you were with him almost everyday. You were working in his office when Hoseok and Yoongi entered the room.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here!” Hoseok exclaimed before walking to you with the brightest smile you had ever seen. Yoongi only smiled at you in acknowledgement before approaching RM and showing him his laptop. They were deep in conversation when Hoseok asked you if you knew where the list for the event was. You nodded before standing up. It was in the overhead cabinet. You reached for it in difficulty for a moment when you felt a hand on your waist, and RM’s muscular arm stretched beside you as he grabbed with such ease what you were trying to reach. He was as near as that night. “Here you go, Y/N,” he whispered…and heavens did it feel sensual in your ear. His hot breath tickled your neck. You could feel your cheeks heat up from his proximity.

You were starting to notice that RM was becoming…touchy lately. It didn’t feel disrespectful to you, it just felt like something changed with the way he was acting, with the way he was looking at you, with the way he was demanding your attention.

J-hope looked at Suga in astonishment. Were these two finally a thing?

One night, you were walking to your humble apartment with Namjoon beside you. His hands were in his pockets as he walked you to your door despite you telling him that you were fine. But you should know, he was a stubborn one. It was late, and the only light were from the hallway of your apartment. It was almost midnight when the two of you arrived at your apartment after checking out the house Namjoon wanted to buy. He asked you what you thought of it, and you said it was beautiful. The yard was spacious with swimming pool. The house itself had numerous bedrooms that you didn’t know who would stay there. In your mind, you rationalized that it must be his members if ever they wanted to stay. In Namjoon’s mind, it was for his family. He listened intently to what you had to say, and only when he saw how your face lightened up when you saw the whole house did he decide to buy it.

“Here I am, boss Namjoon,” you announced jokingly before straining to look up at your tall employer.

You blinked when he only stared at you, “Namjoon?”

“Good night, my princess,” he murmured with his deep voice.

Did he just…call you his princess?

You were too shocked to notice him leaning down. And once he did, you felt his lips kissed your forehead softly, his large hand on the back of your head. You were frozen when he stepped back.

And then he left.

Namjoon thought you needed time to process everything. He knew you were an over-thinker, that you were a flight risk. He just didn’t know you would be like this with mere kisses on your cheek and forehead. You hadn’t been picking up your phone since that day, and he had half a mind to go to your apartment. But he had to keep in mind that there were less conspicuous method to use.

You read the message from Namjoon this afternoon. Apparently, he forgot to pick up the gift he had for his father’s birthday and he was now in his hometown. He was half-pleading and half-apologizing for his clumsiness that you felt bad to just leave him on read. And so you replied that you’d bring it to him.

Your mind was blank as you drove for hours to him. Ever since that night, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury and successfully did, were resurfacing. It was unfair, you thought. You didn’t have the emotional capacity to fall for him. You knew how this would end. When you started to work for him, you thought he was everything. You looked up to him because he was so kind, so intelligent, and so masculine. He was gentle with you even when you made a mistake. He helped you find an apartment that was safe after he saw how you were living before. He paid for the deposit and for the rent during the first year despite your adamant refusal. He even paid for your grandmother’s hospital bills, the only family you had. She had lived longer than what the doctor said. She died without experiencing difficulty eventually, all thanks to RM’s connections to the best hospitals. You wanted to pay him. You even refused to accept your salary, with no success. Namjoon just merely shrugged and said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as he was around. And you believed him.

And so, you did your best to take care of him day and night. Even going beyond your job description. You became his secretary, but what was more, you became his friend, an ear to vent on, even a shoulder to lay his head to rest.

One night, RM had too much to drink. He was feeling suffocated from the pressure of the world. You found him staring on an empty bottle of whiskey when you arrived in his penthouse. That night, you sat with him, listened to his worries, rubbed his back with comforting hands. You assured him that he was not the version he thought of himself. He was better. He was the best man you ever knew. You told him how much you appreciated him, and that he was doing his best.

That night, he asked you what he would do without you.

That night, you told him he’d never have to find out.

That night, he kissed you.

And come morning, he forgot about it.

But you didn’t. And that was the first time he hurt you.

Your memory trail stopped when you saw him standing in front of their house, waiting for you.

His father, just like his mother, was able to convince you to stay the night. He said you were family, and that it would be his birthday wish to spend it with the woman who managed to keep his son alive. He even joked that without you, RM would probably forget to pay his bills, to keep his fish alive, or even to eat. You laughed and said RM was becoming more mature lately and that he could survive without you. RM disagreed.

“You know what, you could do so much than be with my brother,” RM’s younger sister said teasingly as all of you were eating dinner. She stuck her tongue out to her brother who just rolled his eyes at her.

“Oh,” you chuckled shyly before looking at the tall man sitting beside you. “We’re not together!”

“Why not? I was just kidding. I think you’re perfect for him,” she admitted before smiling at the two of you. She was just voicing out what her family had been thinking for years. By now, you were a permanent fixture in their lives that if and not when the day comes that RM introduced someone else to them, they would find it hard to accept her.

You chuckled before telling her that your relationship with her brother was strictly professional.

“He’s working you too hard, isn’t he?” His father asked you as he shook his head at his innocent son. “Listen to me, life is too short to work all day. Go out and have a beautiful life! Or else you’ll find yourself old and alone one day without a family of your own.”

Once the intimate party died down, you found yourself talking with RM in the living room with alcohol in front of you. The two of you were seated on the floor side by side with the sofa behind you. His parents had called it a night after drinking with them, while his sister tapped out as well. Alcohol and the existence of other people helped to die down the awkwardness you felt. You were laughing at RM’s anecdote about the thing that happened during their dance practice. He watched you with contentment in his face. Seeing you happy was making him feel like he did something right, like he won one of those awards. He didn’t know when it started, but he just knew the desire to make you laugh would never go away. He was sure of it.

“I’m sorry about my family. They’re just used to teasing me.”

You waved him off before pouring his empty glass, before pouring yours. “It’s nothing, really. I had fun. I’m glad I came.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” he admitted, his look at you was as intense as that night that your heart started to beat harder, as if it wanted to escape the cage it was in. You blinked and decided to look away. You fanned yourself, “It’s quite warm in here, right?”

Namjoon smirked before drinking, his eyes never wavering from your face. “You’re beautiful, princess,” he commented, his voice deep as he waited for you to look at him again. He was near, so near that his thighs were touching yours. So near that whenever he moved, his muscular arm brushed against yours.

“God, you’re so drunk,” you muttered before looking up at him.

“I may be. But come morning and ask me again, and I’d still tell you you’re the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.”

You gulped, his voice deepened even further. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he admitted with intensity in his voice, with promise in his eyes. “I know I love you.”

Your eyes widened before attempting to move away from him when you felt his massive hand on your back, preventing you from moving away from him, effectively stopping you from running away from the truth that he never tried to fight.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your hand now on his chest as you tried to stop him from coming any closer. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he’d feel how hard your heart was beating just for him. Or how terrified you were of falling, only to have him forget about it again. To forget you again.

“I do. I mean it,” he whispered leaning in slowly at you. “I love you.” And then he kissed you. And you were all too powerless to stop him. He pulled away after a moment. You were breathing hard, your eyes trained on his lips before meeting his eyes. And then this time, you kissed him.

You didn’t know how, but the two of you found yourselves in his bedroom. His hand was entangled with your hair, your hands caressing his broad back as he walked you to his bed. You were drunk from the alcohol and his kisses, his heavenly kisses. He pushed you gently to the bed, and not a second was wasted before he joined you. You pulled off his shirt, your eyes in awe at his form. His muscles were definitely more defined now than when you last saw it accidentally back when you were just beginning to work for him. His chest looked definitely stronger. You were aware of this from seeing him wearing tight shirts, but this? This was something else.

You moaned lightly as Namjoon trailed kisses on your neck, peppering it with subtle marks of his own. He thought that you were his, and that your neck should be adorned with his marks. “Keep it down, princess,” he teased you as he got impatient with the endless buttons of your blouse that he resorted to ripping it off of you. He couldn’t be gentle. Not when the woman of his dreams was finally on his bed. “Or do you want me to cover your mouth?”

You didn’t know that he had it in him to be a dirty talker. You were feeling the heat when he smirked at you before you felt his lips on your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your core. You closed your legs, shyness finally coming back to you as you sobered from his sinful kisses. He was kneeling, his legs were on either side of you as he leaned closer to you once again. “Be a good girl and open your legs, princess,” he ordered, his hand caressing your soft thigh.

His commanding voice was like a hypnotic spell that you found yourself opening your legs slowly for him. And as a reward, he made your legs shook. You were still catching your breath that you didn’t notice he placed a pillow under you, lifting your core. He kissed you once again on your lips so tenderly, so lovingly that for a moment you believed he loved you.

“You are made for me, princess,” he whispered before looking at you with darkness in his eyes, “You’re made for daddy. Say it.”

You keened when you felt his hardness slide at your core teasingly, punishingly as you waited a little too long to repeat what he wanted you to.

“Say it, princess. Don’t make daddy mad,” his hot breaths were tickling your ear as he pinched your sore nipple that you yelped.

“I-I’m made- ugh- I’m made for daddy,” you finally said as you felt his thick head slowly entered your drenched core.

“And who’s your daddy?”

“You are.”

That night, he told you repeatedly how you were his and his only. He made you promised that you would never leave him, and that you would never ignore him once again. He made you come so much that you lost track of the time. His large hand was on your mouth, preventing you from waking the whole house up as he rutted against you with so much stamina and passion. He made you so mindless that you didn’t realize he was finishing inside you each time. He made sure to not let a single drop leave your core.

The third time he didn’t have to mention about wanting a baby of his own, he just did.

Tip Jar

#kim namjoon fic #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #yandere namjoon #yandere kim namjoon #bts fic #namjoon smut #bts yandere #rm x reader

[inkykodo]

STRESS RELIEF

Warning: Sub!bottom reader!, Dom!top Miguel, Rough play, Breeding kink miguel!, Voyeurism, use of pet names (Good boy etc.), office sex, oral sex, gagging and unprotected sex

This Smut is intended for amab readers, fem aligned readers dni

(This is my first smut fic i ever wrote so im sorry if its a bit rough or amateur i thought i just might try doing this 😭, i also added a bit of fluff in the end lol)

After A hard day of chasing miles morales he eventually escaped with the help of his friends. now he has to find Miles all over again and not to mention the anomaly "The Spot" thats constantly being a pain in the ass to even get a finger on. disappointed Miguel went back to the spidey HQ to asses the situation with layla; its late at night and everyone already went home so he has to pull an all nighter for this one. as he was about to enter his dark and quiet office when he noticed a cubicle being lit up by a computer; he went over to check at the cubicle.

"hey! who's there? (y/n)? why are you still here? you should be home." Miguel asks with frustration and disappointment. you were his assistant but he doesn't want you to work late hours just like him. he worries that you'll be exhausted.

"oh sorry sir. i was just doing paperwork and theres quite a few..." you say let out an awkward laugh as you rub the back of your neck. Miguel puts his hand on his hips as he squeezes the bridge of his nose with the other one; "just get it done... and will you get me a coffee while you're at it? if you dont mind." he said with a deep and exhausted voice. "uh yes sir, ill get you a coffee as soon as possible!" you say immediately as you get up and go to the coffee shop just across the street. Miguel sighs as he turns his back and entering his office again.

you grabbed your coat and prepared to exit the building into the cold and windy night. there were rarely any cars around as you walk across the street; the silent buzzing of the lamp above you as you walk, the damp sound of your boots thumping the ground, your hot breath as you exhale around the cold air; it was all so calming to be just by yourself and not worrying about any reports or documents to get done. ring you enter the coffee shop and greet the barista "hey! (y/n)! nice to see you" Joe plasters a wide grin on his face as he waves at you. "hey Joe can i get the usual?" you chuckle as you approach the enthusiastic barkeep. it puzzles you how someone could be this energetic especially when its late at night. "one latte and café americano coming right up" Joe smiles as he gets to work and you sit down by the window silently observing the place you work at. The towering building reminds you of so much; the first time you went there for your job application, the people you met and hanged out with. ever since you started working here it's been great; you were able to hold down a job and live a comfortable life. ding Joe rang a bell and you snap out of your melancholic trance. "Here's your order (y/n)" you get up from your seat and hand him the payment "Thanks Joe I'll see you around" you chuckle as you wave goodbye and head back to your boss who's waiting for his coffee.

You reach the 20th floor and exit the elevator; you make your wake to his office. "ugh... (y/n)" you hear muffled moans when you approach the door when you hear his deep growls your body immediately tenses up. "you're so cute..." You peep through a slight crevice through the door. you see him then and there stroking his throbbing cock as he calls out your name. "im close... (y/n)" you gasp as you back away and clear your throat. "Sir? your coffee is here" you knock on the door. "Oh- uhh come in!" coffee in hand, you enter his poorly lit office. he always preferred it that way although, you always wondered why. "Here is your coffee sir a caffé americano just as you like it" your body tenses up more as you know he's hard down there and its because of you; as you place it down Miguel suddenly grabs your wrist his talons flexing and protruding "i heard you peeping at me through that hole (y/n)" as Miguel pulls you close to him your body freezes on the spot "do you want a better view cariño?" he leans in and you can see his tip dripping wet with precum.

"Please... Miguel..." you try to avoid his gaze but he grabs your chin and tilts your head downward as he forces you to look at him "Please what cariño?" Miguel lets out a deep and menacing laugh "Be clear with your words boy." Miguel says sternly as he grips one of your thighs with his hands. his sharp talons poking your thigh but not enough to draw blood. "Please... continue..." Miguel's lips curled into a grin "That's more like it. good boy" Miguel begins to move his calloused hands; as it travels up your body he lets his fingers slide through your smooth and soft skin. "your skin im feels like a soft cloud mi vida.." Miguel says as he leans in your neck leaving behind a couple kisses here and there. Miguel continues tracing the shape of your body and he lands on where he started. He pinches and twisted your nipples it tingled and burned against his touch. this turned you into a moaning and whimpering mess. "Miguel... that feels so good..." you bite your lip and you begin to move your hips rubbing against his huge boner. the shape of his girth and the way he was playing with your chest like stress balls drowned you in pure ecstasy. "Getting impatient now are we cariño?" Miguel stops what he's doing and he grabs your waist "Such small and slutty waist i wonder how they'll feel when i use them" He grabs your ass and spreads them "oh and im sure these will feel good too" Miguel looks you dead in the eye letting you know what he's about to do next

"im sorry sir i didn't mean to-" Miguel cuts you off mid sentence as he lifts you up and he places you on his lap. you can feel his boner pressing against your rear as he stares you down ready to absolutely swallow you whole. "shhh callate ahora... we can keep this a secret cariño" Miguel leans in close to your ear as he nibbles on your earlobe; his fangs slightly poking your ear. "you're so adorable cariño all tense like that... i could eat you up right here..." Miguel's hands creep under your clothes as he traces your back. his warm hands making you involuntarily whimper as you arch your back; Miguel smirks as he heard you let out a quiet whimper "Que lindo (How cute)" Miguel removes his hands as he violently rips your buttoned down long sleeve polo. this makes you gasp and "that was my favorite shirt..." Miguel chuckles "Well, you look better without it" Miguel looks up at you as his smug expression seems to be clearly enjoying your reaction. "What do we have here?" Miguel's eyes fell to your chest, letting his calloused hands travel to your waist and closer to your thighs. But something glimmering caught his attention. "Oh?" A low chuckle would rumble as he traced his fingers around your nipple piercing, "What do we have here?" he flicks your pierced nipples. "where have you been hiding this huh? such a naughty naughty boy" Miguel continues to flick and twist your pierced nipple as he takes the other one in his mouth. "ahh... Miguel..." Miguel smiles deviously as he takes your swollen nipple in his mouth. "Hold still cariño" Miguel growls as he plays with the metal object that's attached to your nipple using his tongue. you start to moan and whimper as he plays around with your swollen and sensitive chest; "Miguel... too good..." your chest rises and falls as every sensation shoots pleasure up your brain and makes your whole body start to shake. Miguel stops abruptly as he smirks and leans in your ear "Yeah? Beg for it then."

as he was about to tear your clothes to shreds you two were interrupted by a facetime call. he picks you up and sets you down under his desk and his bulge throbbing right in front of you. the shape of his dick under his Spider-Man suit was impressive. his hard cock pressing against the tight fabric as he sat down properly; it was irresistible. your eyes were fixed at his cock glaring back at you as if its taunting you to suck it. you hear miguel talk with one of the Spider-Man that he worked with earlier you decided to have your turn with him. you slowly unzip his Spidey suit his cock immediately springs out and it even slaps your face. Miguel's eyes widened as he looked down at you; his eyes fueled with surprise and rage "Uh miguel? Are you listening?" Miguel Clears his throat and looks back up "Uh yes, you were saying?" Miguel continues his conversation with the nice lady hes on the phone with. You slowly licked Miguel's tip; the w way his precum drips down your tongue like a busted faucet makes you want to lick it up more. you start licking the base of his shaft and then his glans. "So it seems that the spot wa-" Miguel abruptly stops with a groan as you lick up his leaking tip. "Miguel? you good?" Miguel snarls at you knowing he cant do anything yet "yeah im fine, im kind of busy right now ill call you later" Miguel bids farewell to the nice person as he ends the call. you dont even notice their conversation as youre too busy licking up and lapping his dripping dick. Miguel growls at you "You really want my dick that badly huh? you cant wait to slobber all over it? have at it then" Miguel grabs a handful of your hair as he lines up his dick to your mouth and pushes; He pushes it in deep all the way to the base of his huge cock. "how do you like that huh? i bet youre enjoying the taste of my cock now its all the way down your throat like a good slut you are"

your protests were muffled by Miguel's whole length down your throat. "MmpH!" was all you managed to say as you gripped on his thighs trying desperately to pull away. "Whats wrong (Y/n)? wasnt this what you wanted huh?" Miguel snaps at you he sounded pissed and he wants to put you in your place. Miguel then pressed down further you chin dripping with spit and drool as it sticks to Miguel's balls; he lets go just to catch your breath. "Hah... hah..." your chest falls and rises rapidly as Miguel's precum dripped down his shaft. "We're not done yet cariño" Miguel laughs sadistically as he grabs you by your arms and pins both your hands on his desk "since you clearly want it so bad, ill give it to you good" miguel rips apart your pants his rough hands traces your waist. he moves down lower as he reaches your ass and he feels around. "oh this will be good" his laugh gets deeper and colder as he bends over; his hot throbbing dick pressed against your lower back. "You'll regret playing me (Y/n)" his talons flex as he opens your ass wide open. rip the sound of fabric tearing as he finally rips apart the last remaining clothing you had on. "your puckering hole is just waiting to get fucked" Miguel slaps his drool coated dick on your rear he whispers to you "im gonna make you cry and beg for more"

/Time skip/

Miguel stops abruptly as he opens a drawer and takes out lube you stare at it as he squeezes some on his hand "wait- why do you have lube in your office?" you pant as you ask Miguel "Its better to be ready and not need it or need it and not be ready" Miguel says panting as he rubs some of the lube on his dripping dick. an idea flashes through your mind as you push him down his office chair. "its my turn to take the wheel" you say as you get on his lap and line his dick on your hole. you slowly lower yourself down halfway and you stop. His impressive size was appalling; it already felts so good half-way in you. savoring the sensation you try to prepare yourself for his girth. Miguel seems annoyed as you suddenly stop moving. he grabs your slutty waist and rams you down his fat cock. you let out a lewd moan as it crushes your prostate. you gasp as you try to collect your thoughts from the sudden sensation burning your mind. Miguel pants and squeezes your ass as he begins to thrust on your fat piece of cake. he growls and squeezes down not letting you go anywhere but deeper down on his cock. he watches you bounce up and down while you make noises of pleasure making him smile proudly. "yeah.. thats right be a good boy and take my cock like a slut." Miguel pushes you down deeper as his cock directly presses on your g spot. "Miguel... please..." you beg miguel as he stops and just keeps his cock in you. its throbbing and twitching like crazy. "Not yet Cariño... i wanna see you ride me." Miguel Sneers as you squeeze down on him. As you start riding in your own pace Miguel leans back and puts his hands on the back of his head enjoying the view before him. the more you ride his cock them more it seems to grow inside of you. As you moved yourself up and won on him you began to drool. the wet slicking of his dick on your ass felt so good; everytime it hits your prostate you were sure too see a glimpse of heaven. "You look so good in this position Cariño" Miguel reaches down and feels your hips and thighs as you ride him. saddling up to make yourself feel secure as he guides along your waist as he watches you ride.

After hours of nonstop fucking, (y/n) could only focus on the pleasure he was receiving. His mind could only focus on the man who gave him ecstasy. His voice was starting to hurt from shouting Miguel's name. "Too..ah..much" (y/n) whimpers begging for release. "Hush cariño... im almost there..." Miguel's rough voice drowned out y/n's moans. (y/n) practically lost count of how many times he came. "I can't..." (y/n) moans out.. "yes you can, baby.." Miguel's thrusts were getting rougher and faster. the wet slapping of skin crashing against each other echoes through the office. "do it for me cariño... Just one more" That was a lie. Miguel didn't plan on stopping not until the sun was rising. After one final deep thrust he finally released his final load "Agh...! Cariño im cumming!" Miguel buckles his hip as he grabs your ass and pushes it deep inside you as he came. "Miguel- youre filling me up!" (y/n) yells in surprise as miguel shoots his load deep within (y/n)'s gut. "Fuck im gonna give you my babies" Miguel keeps on going; shooting his load deeper into you it felt like a bump was appearing on your tummy as he does so. Miguel snuggles his lips on your neck as he finally lets his cock slip out of your gaping hole. your shaking legs finally give out as his seed slowly drips onto hour thigh "That was alot..." (y/n) says breathlessly. "Apologies, cariño... i got carried away." Miguel's voice seems to be at ease; somewhat satisfied i guess he had some stress relief. miguel picks you up and cleans after you. he takes you to his apartment since he ripped apart your clothes and gave you some of his clothes. "Thank you Miguel..." You thank him as you grab his clothes. as you put it on his clothes seem too big for you; the sleeves of his shirt droops below your elbow which exposes your neck and his baggy pants that looks like a pajama. "(y/n) you look so cute...) Miguel stares you down with admiration as he grabs you by the waist and outs you down in bed. "Can we cuddle? i feel tired after what we did at your office" (y/n) says sheepishly as he grabs Miguel's arms around his waist and presses against him. "Sure Thing cariño" Miguel kisses you around the nape of your neck as both of you drift to sleep.

#male reader smut #miguel o'hara #x male reader #miguel ohara x reader

[etfrin]

ᰔᩚEthan Landry Headcanons (lover edition!)ᰔᩚ

⤷❝☆General!Ethan:

would have a playlist on his phone with songs that reminds him of you

gives you flowers on every date, it can be an expensive bouquet, or a single rose, or something he just picked up but he makes sure to do it just to see your face light up in joy

makes sure to have your favourite chocolate in his pocket

buys you snacks when you have a rough day

carries your bag around the campus while walking you to classes

can be a bit dorky at time (he's always dorky, it's adorable)

has an arm around your waist every time you guys are near or standing together, he doesn't even realize it, he just does it

if you're sitting down then it's hand holding, he squeezes it randomly at times as if to assure himself that you're actually his and it's not a fucking fever dream

random dates: playing uno, watching movies, coffee shops, doing assignments together, buying clothes together...

occasional fancy dates in an expensive venue where he would never let you pay no matter what

a cuddler, loves to have you in his arms

⤷❝☆Ghostface! Ethan:

kills anyone who demeans you, annoys you, or flirts with you

you're his, you're not going anywhere, you're fucking stuck with him

when he confesses the fact that he's Ghostface, he's ready to kill you because you're his and if you can't be his, you can't be anyone's

he may have not (he did) cry when you said you didn't care and you kinda knew

shows you his knives and talks about his kills

you rarely see him so excited so you let him talk about his kills and nod along even when you zone out of the gore stuff

you give him a hit list of the people you hate on his birthday as a gift

now on every and any kind of anniversary he kills one of those people on the list for you

his ego gets high after each kill, so you have to bring him down by reminding him that cocky bitches get caught and he's not allowed to get caught, he's gotta stay with you forever

⤷❝☆NSFW! Ethan:

clumsy at first, sloppy, needy and so desperate, it's not even endearing it was pathetic

once he gets used to the intimacy tho.. it's over for you because your pleasure is his pleasure. every clench of your cunt, every whimper, each moans, everything about you being a mess under him gives his self esteem a boost

a switch! leaning towards dom after a kill but is otherwise so subby

loves to mark you up, after confessing about gf, he brings in the knife kink, doing small marks all over your skin

would be into period sex because that's one way to explore his blood kink without cutting you deeply or anything

loves a good blowjob, especially after a kill when the rush is still in his veins, face fucks you while holding your head in place with a tight grip on your hair, making you gag onto his cock until you're crying and swallowing his cum

loves overstimulation and edging

cries and begs to come whenever you're edging him by riding his cock, stopping whenever he's near the edge

would absolutely rail you if he's mad about something, expect scratches and bruises all over your skin and forget about walking for the day

gets pussy drunk very easily, by fucking you, tasting your juices, doesn't take him a second, he's so addicted

is definitely into somnophilia because after a kill he always comes to you and you're usually asleep but how could he ever resist you especially when you look so pretty sleeping

creampies, he ain't wearing a condom, thank you very much, he has a breeding kink so he absolutely loves to stuff you as much as he can

masterlist!

#oneshot #scenario #character x reader #x reader #x you #x reader smut #fem reader #smut #x female reader #x you smut #headcanons #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry smut #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x you #ethan landry headcanons #ethan landry #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface #ghostface x y/n #scream movie #scream smut #scream 6 #jack champion #reader insert #established relationship

[stfolsom]

ɢᴏᴅ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴜs || cillian murphy x reader

summary || when you're a nanny, nights off are few and far between. with the family, minus mr. murphy, out of the house, you finally have time to relax. when an accidental late-night encounter intensifies, you begin to grapple with keeping to your morals.

warnings || 18+ only! this is SMUT! unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink sort of?, unspecified age-gap, alcohol, implied power imbalance, hair pulling

word count || 3,541 words

notes || this is my first fanfic on tumblr! i hope y'all enjoy. :,) obviously, this is just fiction and has nothing to do with the actual person cillian murphy.

The metal of the faucet felt cool beneath your hand as you gently turned it to the side and cut off the water supply, quietly, as if not to make a sound. It was more out of habit, you suppose, than actual necessity. The kids were all off doing their own thing, Mrs. Murphy was away on business for the weekend, and Mr. Murphy– well, Mr. Murphy tended to keep to himself and resign to his room early in the evening.

You tugged the end of your hair, squeezing the last remnants of your shower with the towel. The house was practically yours for the rest of the evening, and you had absolutely enthralling plans to park yourself in the living room and watch something until your eyelids got heavy. It wasn’t often that you had that luxury. 

This job had come around by happenchance a few years ago while scrolling through thousands of “odd” jobs. The description itself was vague enough to the point that, up until you sat down with them, you had thought it was an elaborate scheme to get murdered. The surprise relief that flooded your body when it was apparent that the Murphy’s were not planning on butchering you was overwhelming, and the feeling had been shortly replaced with the flushing feeling of school girl attraction. 

Mr. Murphy was handsome, no doubt. His large, almost clear-colored eyes seemed to look right through you. He oozed wealth in a very low-key way, a trait that was seemingly rare throughout your experience of nannying. You had indulged yourself in the naivety of a crush for the first month of the job, but had managed to shut it down as your nannying required more and more of your attention. Still, the prospect of being alone with him was enough to get your heart beating a little faster. 

Your feet hardly made a noise as you crept down the stairs to the living room, any sound muffled by the calf-length socks you adorned. Although they had made it very clear that all the facilities of the house were yours to use as well, there was still a level of “sneakiness” that consumed your being when you walked around the house at night. It felt like a proverbial monster was waiting, crouched, hiding in the shadows of the tall walls. So when you turned the corner to the living room and saw a figure already sitting in the arm chair, your soul nearly leapt out of your body.

“Jesus!” you whispered loudly, clutching your chest as you hastily sought the source of the voice. 

Mr. Murphy let out a breathy laugh and quietly shut his book, looking up at you from his perch.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the grit of his voice heightened from the quiet tone in which he spoke, “I figured you had gone out for your night off.”

“No, no, no,” you countered, rubbing a hand down your face, “it’s your house. I shouldn’t be spooked that you’re here.”

The floorboards creaked as he rose from the dark green barrel chair, carefully placing his book on the coffee table, and picking up an empty wine glass. “Well then, I won’t disturb you from your night off. I’ll be upstairs.”

You frantically moved towards him as if to usher him back into his chair. 

“No, don’t leave! I don’t want to disrupt you at all, I can watch something on my laptop instead. Really, it’s no problem. Actually, I quite enjoy it–” 

Mr. Murphy calmly said your name to halt your apologetic rant, closing the space between the both of you as he reached out a hand to your forearm. The touch made you halt, your eyes darting between his hand (his big, beautiful hand) and his face. “You’re not disturbing me, promise.”

“Mr. Murphy, I can’t in good conscience let you leave this room,” you chattered nervously back, trying not to lean into his invitingly warm touch. He laughed lightly at the order and let his hand back to his side.

“Then follow me.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you were sure all color in your face drained. “Huh?”

“Follow me. I’m headed to the kitchen to get myself another glass of wine. I was planning on doing so even before you entered the room, so I’m not violating that good conscience of yours, hm?” he spoke with a slight smile on your face, brushing past you towards the kitchen. You blinked a few times and then followed lamely, suddenly feeling incredibly underdressed compared to his slacks and cardigan. The sweatshirt and (short) sleep shorts you had thrown on were incredibly, embarrassingly, juvenile in comparison to his older man sensibilities. 

Mr. Murphy opened a small fridge nestled underneath the counter tops and pulled out two pristine bottles of wine.

“Do you prefer Cabernet Sauvignon or Sauvignon Blanc?” he asked coolly, uncorking the both of them. A small wisp of vapor pooled from the top. 

“Um, Sauvignon Blanc,” you said plainly, cursing yourself for how smooth it rolled off his tongue and how junkily it came off yours.

He wordlessly poured himself a glass of Cabernet and you a glass of the Blanc. The silence in the kitchen was intense, an itch gathering in your spine to break it. As you opened your mouth to speak, he broke first. 

“I hope you’ve been enjoying your time with us. The kids adore you,” Mr. Murphy said, handing you the glass. You took a polite sip of the wine, the dryness invading your mouth as you looked back down at the glass with a slight rouge to your cheeks. 

“I have absolutely loved it. I adore them too, though with each day I can feel them slowly getting ‘too cool’ to hang around me,” you said with a small laugh, fingers rubbing up and down the stem of the glass. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes dart to watch them. 

“Welcome to the reality of parenthood,” he countered, leaning back against the counter and sipping his cabernet. 

“It’s brutal,” you said with a dramatic exhale, “I can’t imagine how hard it must be when it’s your actual child.”

Mr. Murphy tossed you an amused look, crossing his legs as he stood. “Do you want kids of your own?”

If you hadn’t been already blushing, you sure you were now. You looked at him wide-eyed and then took a big gulp of the wine. 

“Well, maybe, I guess. I don’t know… it feels a bit cruel to bring them into a world like this.”

He shrugged his shoulders and finished off his wine with a large swallow.”

“Not that you and Mrs. Murphy are cruel! I don’t– I wouldn’t–” you said quickly, getting hit with a wave of embarrassment. “I just–”

“Hey,” he said coolly, waving a hand. “I didn’t think you were.”

You tipped your head back to finish your wine off and set the glass down on the counter louder than you had hoped for. 

“It’s a very rewarding experience,” Mr. Murphy continued, rubbing his fingers across his cleanly shaven jaw. “You’re a very pretty and well behaved girl. I think you’d have great children.”

You weren’t sure if it was the onslaught of tipsiness and when you became such a lightweight, but he seemed to be much closer to you. You quipped a laugh in response. 

“I’m not sure if you can say that to me, Mr. Murphy, but thank you.”

“Please, just call me Cillian,” he said, his body nearly parallel to yours as you leaned against the island and him against the counter. You could’ve sworn there was a dark sort-of hunger prowling around in those blue eyes of his.

“Cillian,” you repeated, feeling the way it felt in your mouth. His jaw tensed up, the muscle highlighted in the low lighting of the kitchen. The room felt so much smaller than it had twenty minutes ago.

Cillian put his glass down slowly, his movements precise and calculated in the same way a big cat moves. Your breath hitched, half anticipating him to pounce on you like a predator to his prey.

“I mean it,” he repeated, his eyes boring into you and that common casual indifference written onto his face, “you’re a very pretty girl.”

In one quick movement, his hand found the fabric of your sweatshirt and he firmly tugged you forward, closer to him. You stumbled, letting him pull you like a doll. Your eyes found his expectantly, searching for a sense of regret in his eyes. Instead, you were greeted with the feeling of his plush lips meeting yours.

The kiss was surprisingly chaste in comparison to how he had pulled you closer. His lips left yours as quickly as they had found them, his face still held close to yours. His hands reached up and brushed your cheeks with his knuckles repeatedly. You kept your eyes closed, leaning into the touch.

“Is this okay?” he murmured as he continued to stroke the skin of your face and neck, “I need you to tell me this is okay.”

You nodded and sighed. He lightly slapped your cheek, just enough for you to open your eyes and look at him again.

“I need you to say it outloud, darling,” he repeated. 

“This is okay,” you said, resting your hand atop his. 

“You don’t care that I’m your boss? That I’m so much older than you?”

The harsh slap of reality hit you and you tried not to recoil from his touch. Instead, you swallowed heavily and let the waviness of intoxication wash over you again.

“This is okay,” you said again, unable to say much more than that. 

He dove back in again, recapturing your lips with an intensity he had not previously shown. You groaned in surprise, your hands finding his shoulders to keep balance. He walked you backwards against the island, one hand wrapped around the back of your neck to hold you to him. His free hand wandered up your hip and underneath your sweatshirt, finding the soft skin of your stomach and kneading it with his large fingers.

“Fuck,” he rasped into your mouth.

The corner of the island pressed into your back as you tried to keep up with the hastiness of his movements. His tongue smoothed against your bottom lip, breaking through the barrier to kiss you deeper. You mirrored his movements, trying not to let your inexperience show. You had had hookups and boyfriends before, but none that kissed you like this. None that showed this much passion.

His hand slid up from the back of your neck and grabbed a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your head back. You gasped in surprise, grasping his shoulders a bit more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he admitted in between kisses. “Ever since we first fucking interviewed you and I saw your pretty little face.” 

Your stomach fluttered and you kissed him back harder in response, causing him to grip your hair harder. Cillian pressed his knee between your legs forcing them apart, closer and closer to where your core ached for him. You whined as he dragged his lips from your mouth and down your neck.

Cillian’s free hand drifted down from the flesh of your stomach and to the waistband of your shorts, eagerly searching out your pussy. In discovering your lack of panties, he nipped at your neck and groaned.

“No panties?” he panted in amusement against your throat. Your face felt hot.

“I didn’t think my boss would be feeling me up in the kitchen.”

Your smugness was interrupted by his fingers rubbing against your clit and then down further through your folds, smearing the growing wetness around your cunt. You whined and pressed forward, pushing your body as close to his as possible. The grip on your hair loosened, that hand moving to hold your waist as he buried his head in the crook of your neck and mindlessly sucked at the skin.

“You’re fuckin’ heavenly,” he breathed, massaging your clit with the pads of his fingers. You ground down into the pressure, fingers digging into his back. 

“Mr. Murphy, please,” you whined, biting at his shoulder through his cardigan. The heat of his erection pressed against your thigh. 

He dipped one large finger into your cunt without warning, causing you to yelp and lurch forward even more.

“I told you to call me Cillian, dear,” he said, his hot breath fanning against your ear. 

His finger worked in and out of you skillfully, gathering more and more wetness with each thrust. You pressed your hips against it, seeking more pressure, more friction. Cillian added another finger, causing you to moan loudly into the soft fabric of his cardigan. His fingers pumped in and out of you creating a lewd wet noise. You felt your core begin to tighten, your grinding becoming sloppier with each thrust of his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Cillian,” you whined, pulling your head back from his shoulder to desperately find his lips. He met you in the middle and kissed you messily, increasing the speed of his fingers as he felt you tighten. You bucked against him faster, the impending orgasm causing a feeling of overstimulation that threatened tears in your eyes.

“‘M gonna cum,” you said against his lips, gripping at his back as tight as you could. 

Just as you spoke, your orgasm broke and warmth filled your body. You cried out, moving your face away from his and tilting it back. The pleasure wracked your body in waves, causing your legs to involuntarily twitch and threaten to give out on you. Cillian watched you hungrily, his eyes studying every muscle in your face as he made you cum.

After letting you calm down quietly, he removed his fingers from you. The absence made you wince, cold air hitting the wet skin of your pussy. Cillian pushed the front of his body against yours, kissing you lazily and pressing his arousal into your thigh.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he stated. The bluntness nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“In here?” you asked innocently.

Cillian wordlessly pulled you away from the counter and gripped your hand, leading you away from the kitchen and up the stairs as you stumbled after him. To your surprise, he led you to your room, which you supposed made sense. It would be too real to get fucked in the bed that he and his wife share. 

He closed the door behind him, moving to you quickly to resume making out with you. Insecurity flooded your body at the messiness and immaturity of your bedroom. You pulled back and laughed sheepishly.

“I’m sorry about my room,” you whispered against his lips. “It’s not very ‘big girl’ of me.”

He stroked the sides of your face again, looking you deep in the eyes.

“It’s perfect,” he reassured, “you’re perfect.”

Cillian kissed you again sweetly, and then returned back to the depraved nature of his kisses, kneading and grabbing at your body. He lightly pushed you back onto your bed, crawling on top of you as soon as your back hit the duvet.

He didn’t waste any time removing your sweatshirt and shorts. The garments were off your body with ease, leaving you completely bare underneath him while he still was dressed in his slacks and sweater. Your hand ran up his arm to the collar of the jacket and tugged gently.

“‘S not fair,” you pouted, “take it off.”

He looked down at you with a grin and then sat up, quickly taking off his shirt and pants. You watched intently as he stripped down in front of you, admiring the tone of his body. Compared to other almost-50-year-olds, his body was trim and lithe and it drove you crazy. He pulled down his boxers to free his swollen cock and you watched in awe as it sprung up against the soft of his stomach. He stroked it gently before crawling on top of you again and assaulting your neck with kisses and nips. 

You spread your legs to get him closer, your heart skipping a beat as his cock pressed against your core. You suppressed a moan and jerked your hips against his. His lips traveled further down to your breasts, kissing them gently before finding your sensitive nipples and sucking them. Cillian pulled his head back with a sickening pop as he released the nipple, your eyes screwing shut at the offense against the sensitive skin.

“Fuck me, please,” you said breathlessly, pulling his head back up to kiss your lips. He obliged happily, snaking his tongue into your mouth eagerly before sitting up. 

He knelt between your legs, one hand holding your legs apart and the other guiding his cock to your entrance. You tried not to jump as you felt his slick head prod at you. He pressed in slowly, meeting slight resistance as your pussy tried to stretch to accomodate him. His tip pushed through the tightness, causing you both to gasp as he entered you. You grabbed his forearms to ground you.

Cillian continued to move forward, reveling in your whine as he filled you up. Once he was fully inside of you, he returned to hover above you and kissed you again. You wrapped your legs around his waist and traced your arms up and down his back, encouraging him to move.

The first few thrusts strung as your body struggled to accept the size of his cock, your pussy getting wetter and wetter with each snap of his hips. You buried your head in his shoulder again, mouth resting against his bare shoulder as he fucked into you. He was gentle- pulling out half way and then thrusting up to press himself completely inside of you. You whimpered into his skin with each thrust. 

His movements picked up, his rocking movement becoming rougher and more intense. He slammed himself into you, desperate to get deeper and deeper. He pulled back from you, grabbing your thighs to reposition you. His hands forced your knees back up against your shoulders, allowing him more access to your cunt. The first thrust into you made you yelp and reach down to grab his thigh.

“Fuck Cillian,” you mewled, “that’s fucking deep.”

He laughed and leaned forward, folding his hands behind your head and continuing to fuck you deeper and deeper. The pressure was unbearable, the noises coming out of your mouth were noises you had never heard before. You could feel his head in the deepest parts of you, pressing into you at an unrelenting pace. His breath was staggering, his eyes wandering around your face as you laid slack jaw underneath him.

“Harder,” you managed to ground out, swallowing deeply.

He sat up for better balance, using his hands to press down into the back of your legs and push them up as much as he could. His speed intensified, pulling himself out to his tip to then slam back into you with as much power as he could muster. You frantically grasped the sheets, seeking something to stabilize you. 

“Look at me,” he said hoarsely.

You opened your eyes to stare up at him, his blue eyes bearing back into yours. His face shone with sweat, highlighting his marblesque facial structure. His eyebrow was slightly furrowed in concentration as he fucked you hard. 

“I’m going to… I’m going to…” you tried to gather enough strength to warn him but fell flat, your eyes slightly crossing from the intensity.

“‘M gonna come inside, yeah?” Cillian spoke weakly.

You nodded and whined, keeping eye contact with him as your core tightened more and more. His hand reached down to rub your clit, causing you to crash over the edge. You came loudly, unable to hold in a yelp as pleasure washed over your body again. Your walls clenched him, drawing him in deeper and pushing him to his own orgasm.

He fucked you through the pleasure before he let himself cum, his hips staggering before slamming into yours and pressing the both of you further into the mattress. He groaned into your neck, stroking your thigh as he continued to fuck you through the aftershocks of his own orgasm. You could feel the warmth of the cum seep deep into you, his leaking head pressed as far into you as he could. 

Cillian lazily kissed you and then rested his forehead against yours, his eyelashes tickling your skin.

You laid like that for a few minutes; your sticky bodies pressed against each other, his softening cock still deep inside of you. He finally sat up after the silent bliss had passed, removing himself from you with a hiss. You could feel a small trickle of warmth drip from your pussy as he moved away.

You laughed breathlessly as the gravity of the situation hit you, the weight of his body moving to lay beside you. His hand stroked your stomach lovingly as you both stared at the ceiling.

“Can we do this again?” you said quietly.

“I don’t think God himself could stop us.” 

#hank writes #cillian x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n