#My first request! Hope it's to your liking! :D | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 days

Note

hello! This is my first time actually requesting anything so please bear with me ;-;

I would like to request a 5th lord! Reader x Donna, reader is also pretty shy and reclusive, spending most of her time hunting with her mutated hounds or quietly managing her villagers' troubles, but can be assertive and outspoken if needed, even standing up to mother Miranda if she feels she's being unfair with the others, though she'd much rather chill with her dogs or do paperwork and let others do the talking.

Reader and Donna are both on good terms with both of them managing to work up the courage to go hang out at the other's manors from time to time. It doesn't take long for their "good terms" to start evolving into something more romantic but both of them are dancing around confessing their feelings, scared that doing so might destroy the friendship they've worked so hard to built...

It takes a little encouragement from Alcina (and maybe a little teasing about how she "can stare mother Miranda down but now look Donna in the eye") but Reader manages to get over her fear and confess, much to Donna's relief and joy.

Yesss!!!!! This is your 1st time requesting? Welcome then :D!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

The fifth one

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! 5th Lord (more or less)! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 7,943

Summary: You're the fifth, but don't want to, you just want to love her...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

You rolled your eyes at the commotion that was beginning to form in the old cathedral.

“Please, that chandelier over there is much more elegant than you,” one of the attendees at that meeting muttered, Alcina Dimitrescu who, was arguing with her brother, Karl Heisenberg.

“How unoriginal,” her brother said, with a cocky smile that slowly turned to you.

You shook your head, crossing your arms and looking away.

“Your presence clouds my ideas...” Alcina said, with a mocking smile.

“Relax, that's altitude sickness,” he said, arching his eyebrows.

“Who's next? Come on, come on, round of insults!” the sinister Angie doll shrieked, making you cover your ears.

“Oh, Gods…” the priestess who had won the favor of the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, murmured. “Silence!”

“He started it”

“She started it”

Both Lords protested in a childish manner, giving each other glances that, you were sure, had formed a barrier that, if you crossed it, you would burn without remedy.

“Well, now that you've finally shut your mouths, we can begin,” Miranda said, turning her head towards you, probably watching to make sure you were paying attention.

You were always the focus of her gaze, probably because that evil raven woman still didn't trust you.

Every time you attended, a sermon, or had to meet with the others for any boring matter, you wondered why you were there. Those people were descendants of the founders of the village, they were blessed by the Black Gods, you were not. You were quite different.

You were born without noble blood, without a great mansion or power.

Always introverted but with a tremendous desire to explore, you spent your childhood being not much more than the butcher, the blacksmith or the family of weavers. Your family, humble but well-off, was in charge of supplying the villagers with firewood or coal, raw materials that were still needed in that place.

It was an important job, but not a relevant one.

You were orphaned at an early age, left completely alone in that sinister house in the mountains. Loneliness was not a problem for you. You were never exactly a talkative or communicative girl.

But that introverted character clashed with your adventurous spirit, with the desire to know more about that strange cult, to know why the Black Gods only existed in that place.

That daring to find out the different reasons that led Mother Miranda to name herself a priestess seemed worth discovering.

In one of your explorations you got too brave. You watched the witch work in the laboratory, you tried to read the labels of those strange bottles.

You fell in front of the blonde with a resounding sound. You already thought that your life had come to an end. But apparently, Mother Miranda didn't see a sudden interest in ending the life of that stupid snooper, rather she saw you as a unique opportunity to continue investigating.

She didn't care about your screams or your struggles, she took what she wanted, experimenting on you, putting into your body what she herself said it was: the gift of the Gods.

Miranda was probably even more surprised when, after a time that you were still unable to determine, you opened your eyes.

You, who already believed that you would die, resurrected on that dirty stretcher to the surprise and pleasure of the golden witch.

You were still you, but somehow, you were no longer the same. The smells, the sounds... Everything entered your body in an almost overwhelming way. It was as if you had suddenly woken up, as if something had made your senses sharpen.

Of course, you were glad to still be alive, but you were scared.

Your weak body became a weapon. Your strength was no longer that of a simple villager. You had been reborn with the gift of the superhuman and you couldn’t complain.

You were a partial success, one of the few who survived the graft, a miracle. Your strength, your senses, everything had improved substantially but... The strangest thing of all was when you discovered what exactly you could do.

The lycans, those unfortunate villagers who weren't as lucky as you were, came after you in the middle of Miranda's tests. You were never a fighter, of course, even with your new strength, you were scared.

But the miracle happened again.

Apparently, Miranda noticed something that you didn't. Those drooling beasts didn't attack you, they didn't bother wasting time tearing your skin or devouring you. To them you were like something untouchable. You thought it was because of the parasite but once again Miranda told you it wasn't.

Complete control over the village beasts, that was your true new ability. A very useful ability, indeed, at least for that horrible woman.

Miranda's confidence was even more fleeting and cloudy than the Black Gods themselves. Her amazement also hid some fear. You were certainly strong. You could make all the monsters destroy the village with a snap of your fingers.

According to the witch, your status as an ordinary villager placed you in a strange limbo. Neither a Lord, nor a villager, simply, (Y/N). Power was something you didn’t want, but you couldn’t longer avoid it.

You became something like the fifth Lord. The meetings, the sermons... Everything required your presence as well as that of the rest of the noble families. So… Well, Lord or not, you were part of it.

You didn't have a coat of arms, you didn't have a noble background, but you sat next to them. The only thing that relieved you was that those monsters weren't your new siblings. That was the only difference between them and you, for everything else, to the villagers, the number five was always present when they saw you.

Hunting, doing paperwork, answering calls and requests from the villagers… That was your routine. Yes, you preferred solitude, the comfort of your cozy cabin in the woods but… Well, you couldn't complain, it wasn't that bad.

Luck or caution, those two words sailed through your thoughts from time to time. You wondered if Miranda granted you those privileges just because you survived or, on the contrary, she preferred to have you on her side instead of having you against her.

In the meetings, together with the rest of the Lords, you thought about it, you thought about how strong Miranda would be if you and all her children rebelled against her. If you don't feed a beast, it ends up devouring you.

“The Petrescu family have decided not to make the monthly offering to the Gods, let's see, come on, ideas...” Miranda said, moving her arms.

“If I remember correctly, they have a daughter, right?” Alcina intervened, immediately returning you to that boring meeting.

“Mm, it seems so,” Miranda commented, listlessly, nodding towards the lady of the castle.

“She will serve in my castle as payment,” the lady in white said.

It gave you a shiver.

“Oh, sure, of course,” Karl said, interrupting his sister, as always. “I'm sure she's dying to serve you.”

“Their eldest son is strong, he'll be a good experiment,” the deformed Moreau commented.

“No, no way,” you intervened, shaking your head. “I'm the one who has to take care of your experiments.”

“You should have a nursery!” the doll Angie said, laughing sinisterly.

You smiled and nodded, arching your eyebrows.

“Yes, good idea,” you said amused.

“Not again…” Miranda sighed, running her hand over her mask, with a threatening tone.

Well, you couldn't blame her for being fed up with these meetings, you were too.

“Let's see, what punishment do they deserve? One by one,” the witch hissed through her teeth, thus avoiding another uproar. “Let's see, (Y/N), let's start with you.”

“Mm,” you murmured thoughtfully. “I don't think they deserve punishment, Mother Miranda,” you said after a few seconds of meditation, causing all those sinister gazes to turn towards you.

“No?” the witch asked, in a low tone.

“No,” you said firmly. “The Petrescu family has had plagues in their crops and that's why they haven't been able to make the offering to the Gods.”

“But it is my will, (Y/N),” the priestess protested, getting a little closer to you. You didn't feel intimidated, not in the least.

“Yes, and it is also our duty to take care of the villagers but someone…” you explained, pointing timidly at Heisenberg. “Someone preferred to steal the entire shipment of special insecticide, so they were unable to control the plague.”

“Oh, are you implying that it was me?” the Lord asked, pointing at himself. “How bold.”

“I'm not implying anything, Karl,” you said amused.

“Well, there are some very large flies in the castle, I needed that shipment,” he murmured amused, making the lady in white growl.

“Stupid bastard,” Dimitrescu growled, clenching her fists.

“Silence… Silence…” Miranda hissed, visibly tired. “Then, (Y/N), according to you I should forgive them for their lack of faith.”

“Well,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Punishing them for something we have not been able to remedy would be unfair.”

“You say I am unfair then,” the witch murmured, with a dangerous tone.

“In this case yes, you are, Mother Miranda,” you said without any fear.

Miranda stepped back, laughing sinisterly.

“Okay… I will forgive them,” she said, but lowering her tone as she looked at you again. “For now… Go away, the meeting is over.”

You all stood up silently and you sighed in relief, you could finally go home.

“Hey, you, newbie,” Karl said, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You have guts, huh? No one faces the witch without paying for it.”

“I believe in justice,” you murmured, feeling the cold of your skin as you left the cathedral. The Lord laughed amused, patting your back unpleasantly.

“How considerate…” he whispered. “Hey, come to my factory, there are some beers waiting for you.”

“Bah, not today, I have work to do,” you said, shaking your head.

Saying goodbye to your companions, you walked towards the last of them, towards the lady in black, who seemed to be waiting for you too. After all, her old estate was on the way to your cabin.

Lady Beneviento was a mysterious woman. Always silent, covered by that black veil… She was certainly the most interesting of the Lords.

Donna Beneviento was something like a silent friend. Everyone in the village feared her, but not you. Sick, psychopathic, deformed… You had heard so many things about this woman that you weren't sure if you believed them. In any case, she never showed any of that, in fact, you could say that in your silence there was something like a shy friendship.

You weren't a woman of many words. You enjoyed solitude just like she did. Maybe that's why you got along well.

Silence was the best of conversations, those discreet glances into your eyes, that shy laugh when you played with Angie to chain words together. Yes, you felt very comfortable with her, maybe too much.

But, even though you were shy, lately you tried to get some words out of that black veil, you were quite determined to hear her hoarse voice and not the usual squeals of the doll.

“So… How are your dolls?” you asked, walking slowly, making the lady turn around startled. It wasn’t common for you to break the silence without Angie around.

“Fine,” Donna whispered, with that hoarse voice, raspy from lack of use. Her voice was like a breeze, like a current of air that you couldn't see but you could feel.

“Great,” you murmured, lowering your head.

“How are your… Monsters?” she asked after a few awkward seconds in which you thought that talking to her was a bad idea.

“They’re fine,” you said the same way, nodding confidently.

“Monsters!” Angie repeated, breaking the calm of that little walk.

“Yes…” you sighed amused, winking at the doll, who laughed sinisterly. “Hey, Donna, what do you think of the Petrescu thing?” you asked the lady in black, having the strange need to talk.

“Cosa?” she asked, with an even softer voice, slowing down her steps to stand beside you, walking at the same pace as you.

“You know... That whole harvest thing,” you said timidly. “I honestly find it incredible that Miranda blames those poor villagers when she's supposed to be taking care of them.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured with disinterest, looking away. “You're taking too many risks.”

“Why do you say so? I say what I think,” you said, shaking your head.

“That's why you take the risk,” she commented, walking faster, reaching the wooden bridge that separated your world from hers. “Sometimes it's better to not say anything.”

“Oh, of course, that's your strategy, isn't it? I thought you were just a quiet woman,” you said amused, leaning on some rocks.

A soft laugh came from the lady in black, who also stopped.

“I am,” she whispered, moving the impatient Angie in her arms.

“I see…” you murmured, looking away embarrassedly. “I don’t know, maybe I’m too stupid.”

“Stupid for having a sense of justice?” she asked in a slightly clearer voice.

You shrugged exaggeratedly, spreading your arms.

“Maybe…” you sighed, looking at the cloudy sky. “Well, I guess we’ll see each other.”

“Yes, we’ll see each other,” the lady said passively, sighing uncomfortably.

“See you later,” you said, waving goodbye and jumping towards the mountain, a very big one.

“See you later, silly!” Angie shrieked, waving her arms in farewell, something you already saw from the top of the mountain.

“Hey, Angie, remember that you owe me 500 lei!” you shouted amused.

“That's a lie!” the doll protested. “Liar!”

“Next time try not to lose! You know that I am unbeatable in chess!” you said amused, earning a sinister laugh from the puppet, who said goodbye to you while the lady resumed her path.

You walked a little further through the forest until you reached your cabin, where some anxious barking alerted you.

“Oh, wait!” you shouted as your two favorite beasts launched themselves at you, covering you with licks. “Hey, okay, yeah, I missed you, guys!” you shouted amused, pushing the mutated dogs away from you. “Come on, it's time to eat.”

Routine fell upon you after that little interruption. Certainly, meetings weren't your favorite pastime, but after doing the same thing day after day, they were a relief.

Paperwork, calls from villagers begging you for some firewood, the occasional business with the Duke... It was all boring, but at the same time reassuring. Hunting with your dogs was the most fun thing you did, but even that became a tedious routine.

But, for some time now, a new hobby forced you to leave the safety of your cabin and look over the cliff.

Just below that great height, the Beneviento House stood, that strange place sheltered by a waterfall. At first you didn't give importance to the closeness you had with the lady in black, but... Little by little, that friendship grew, forcing you to keep an eye on her without wanting to.

Donna was like you, she didn't usually leave her house but, when she did, your heart started to beat strongly. A strange but interesting woman, that's what she was to you, apart from being a friend in a world of shadows. At least you liked to think that way.

Surely for her you were just a companion.

Lying in the snow, one that had long since stopped being cold for you, you observed the mansion, wondering what that woman was doing at that moment, if she would go out to take care of her flowers or it would be another boring day in which you couldn't see her.

“Mm,” you murmured, getting up, disappointed. “Today is not the day to go out, huh?” you said amused.

The sound of nearby axe blows brought you out of the comfort of your solitude, of your routine. The lycans always did the hard work, always cut down the trees to give you that precious firewood. Yes, you could truly feel privileged although those beasts... They weren't exactly intelligent.

“Hey!” you shouted, walking quickly towards that group of lycans who were cutting down one of the nearby trees. “I thought I told you to go to the western forest.”

The grunts were their response while they shrugged their shoulders comically.

“West, do you hear me?” you repeated indignantly, stamping the ground. “Oh, damn it. Give me that,” you said while taking the axe from one of them. “Go over there, and get a bigger axe.”

Taking another of your tools and giving it to the lycan, you order them to leave, something they obeyed, luckily.

“Great…” you muttered annoyed, running a hand through that half-felled tree. “Stupid lycans…”

Shaking your head, you put the axe on your shoulder, ready to return to the comfort of paperwork or the fun of hunting, you were still not sure. A strange creaking sound stopped your steps and you turned around trembling.

That tree seemed to lean dangerously, which made you open your eyes in fear.

“Oh, no, no, no, no…” you lamented, running towards it as fast as you could. You didn't get there in time.

The tree split and the larger half fell down the cliff. You could only touch it with your fingers before it disappeared into the abyss with a thunderous sound of breaking glass.

“Shit…” you sighed, closing your eyes tightly. That definitely hadn't sounded good at all.

Slowly, clearing your throat, you looked over the cliff. If that tree had fallen into the river it would have been a relief, but it didn't.

Below the slope, that tree rested on the roof of the Beneviento mansion, with its top stuck in one of the windows.

“Okay… Damn it,” you said through your teeth, running a hand over your forehead. “Damn it…”

“Hey!” a sharp scream made you look down again.

Donna and Angie had come out of the house, surely alerted by the noise. You tried to hide from them, but you weren't fast enough.

“Hey, you, I saw you!” the doll snapped at you, forcing you to look out again. “What do you think you're doing?! Do you want to kill us!?”

“Oh, um… I'm sorry!” you cried out embarrassed, biting your lip. Both lady and doll looked at you intensely.

“You're sorry?! Get down here and face me!” Angie demanded.

You had no choice but to obey, taking a big leap to go down to the grounds of the mansion. You landed next to Donna, looking at her briefly and then observing the mess the tree had caused.

“H-Hi…” you sighed nervously, with a shy smile. “Um, I can, I can explain it.”

“There's a tree going through the attic of my house, what do you have to explain?” the lady in black asked, with that usual hoarse tone.

You laughed amused by what you thought was a joke and scratched the back of your neck, looking at the tree and shaking your head.

“It was an accident,” you said with a shaky voice. “It, it wasn't my fault.”

Angie and Donna looked at each other and, after a few seconds, lowered their heads towards the axe you were still holding, looking back at you shortly after.

“Oh, no, it's not what it seems,” you said nervously, hiding the tool behind your back.

“We caught you with the weapon, silly, anything to say in your defense?” Angie said, crossing her arms, held by her owner.

“Okay, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said, with your best good girl face. “It wasn't me, the lycans are getting stupider every day and they started cutting down a tree they shouldn't have and…” you stammered.

“Your apologies aren't going to solve the problem,” Donna whispered, lowering the doll to the ground.

“Yeah, I know but…” you said nervously, avoiding looking at the mess. “Don't worry, I'll call, I'll call the lycans to get it out of there. In the meantime, as compensation… I don't know, maybe, maybe you'd like to have some tea at my place.”

“Is that compensation?” the puppet mocked, shaking her head. “No, silly, we want a million lei.”

“What? A million?” you asked, mouth agape.

“Don't pay attention to her,” Donna murmured, walking away from you. “The tea will be enough.”

“Oh, okay…” you said blinking in confusion. You didn't think it was going to be that easy.

“What are you saying, silly Donna? Have you become…?” Angie said, tugging at her owner's dress. The lady looked at her firmly, making her shut up immediately.

Intimidation or control? You weren't sure.

The walk to your cabin was tense. After you called the lycans and they went up to the roof, you started to think about why you had offered the lady in black some tea. She certainly didn't seem displeased with the offer, but you found that something so stupid was enough for Donna strange. After all, you had impaled her house on a tree.

The lady in black gasped as your dogs roared at her presence. You couldn't be surprised by it. It was very strange to have visitors.

“Relax, they're harmless,” you said with a nervous smile, opening the door to your cabin. “That's Pinky, and that's Winky”

“Pinky and Winky? What kind of stupid names are those?” the doll said, watching the animals with curiosity. They calmed down due to your caresses.

“Well, the ones I gave them,” you said proudly, stroking the head of one of them, causing it to lick your hand.

“Can I play with them?” the Angie doll asked, approaching cautiously. “Can I, Donna, can I?”

“I don't know,” the lady in black whispered, looking suspiciously at the hounds. “(Y/N), they won't hurt Angie, right?”

“No, I don't think so,” you said unsurely, watching the doll's timid interactions with the animals. “She'll be fine.”

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” the lady asked after a few silent moments watching Angie, who had already mounted one of the beasts.

“Oh, sure, come in,” you said, coming out of that daydream.

Donna entered slowly, observing every detail of your small but luxurious cabin.

“Mm,” she murmured, sitting on one of your sofas in a disinterested manner.

“It's not much but well, it's a home,” you commented, confused by the attitude of the woman in black, the passive and timid attitude as always. “Black tea?”

She nodded slightly and you did the same, nervously preparing the tea. Silence was once again your only companion. You couldn't say you were scared, but you were somewhat intimidated by her presence. You knew what she was capable of. You knew she wasn't right in the head. Maybe she had set you up to make you suffer for your mistake.

“Ahem, here you go,” you said nervously, sitting in front of her and showing a jar. “Do you want sugar?”

“No,” she answered dryly, taking the cup and bringing it to her lips, slightly moving her veil aside.

You couldn't help but notice her features, something that made her stop, replacing the black cloth.

“It's rude to stare at someone,” she murmured annoyed.

“I'm sorry,” you said nervously, looking away so she could drink calmly.

“What are you sorry about? About shamelessly staring at me or impaling my house on a tree?” Donna asked in a dark, hoarse tone, with a marked accent.

“Oh, the tree thing and... Well, the other thing too and... I'd better, I'd better keep quiet,” you said, hiding your embarrassment behind your cup of tea.

“Mm,” she murmured again with disinterest, leaving her cup on the table and resting her hands on her lap in an elegant and shy way. Surely she must have been uncomfortable, just like you.

The tension could easily be cut. Silence stopped being your ally and became your worst enemy. To talk or not to talk, that was the question.

Luckily, it was the lady in black who seemed interested in starting a conversation.

“What are you doing here all day?” the doll maker asked, barely moving.

“Nothing special, I don't spend much time in here, to tell the truth,” you said, clearing your throat, relieved by the disappearance of silence. “I don't like being locked up.”

“I see. You are like one of your beasts then,” she commented, tilting her head slightly.

You raised your eyebrows, not quite knowing how to respond to that statement.

“If by that you mean that I like the outdoors...” you murmured amused, with a calm smile.

“No, I say it because of how ugly you are,” she said abruptly, leaving you completely disoriented, speechless.

“Hey...” you protested at that gratuitous and unexpected insult.

“It was a joke,” she said, seeing your incipient annoyance.

You blinked confused, shaking your head and drinking again to relieve the trembling of your body.

“Forgive me, I'm not very good at it,” Donna said in a softer tone, laughing shyly. “I've never known how to joke.”

“A joke, of course,” you said calmer but tense, with your heart beating strongly in your chest. “Relax, I'm not good with people either.”

“It doesn't seem like it,” she said distractedly, shifting uncomfortably on the wooden sofa. “You get along very well with my siblings.”

“You think so? No, not at all, we just tolerate each other,” you explained in a relaxed tone, waving your hand to make light of it. “I usually go out with Heisenberg to have beers from time to time but the truth is that I prefer solitude.”

“Heisenberg,” the lady repeated, with a mysteriously dark tone. “Do you like spending time with him?”

You shrugged, not giving importance to those innocent questions.

“Yes, well, I'm still a human being, or so I think... You know, we're social animals and...” you said, leaning back in the chair, realizing what that question really meant. “Oh, if you mean... No, no, no, no,” you quickly denied. “It's not what you're thinking.”

“What am I thinking?” she asked, with a somewhat more casual tone, letting you sense a smile behind that black veil.

“I don't know, what are you thinking?” you asked back, shy but somehow confident.

“I'm just saying that you get along with my brother, I wasn't implying anything,” Donna said, with a slightly more serious tone, annoyed for some reason.

“Okay…” you sighed confused.

It was the first time you talked for so long with the woman in black and that started to take its toll on you, making you more and more nervous.

“I get along with you too,” you whispered almost without meaning to.

“Oh, really?” she asked with a mocking tone. “What makes you think that way?”

“Well…” you murmured, regretting your words. “At least you talk to me, they say that's a miraculous.”

“What's miraculous? Someone talking to you?” she asked, curious, reaching out her hand again for the cup of tea, indicating that you should look away again.

“No, you talking to someone,” you said in a small voice, lowering your head while the lady put the tea back in its place.

“Mm,” Donna murmured with disinterest, maintaining that tense and defensive pose, not paying attention to your words, or at least, not showing it. “What else are they saying out there?”

“Huh?” you asked confused, startled. “Oh, nothing bad, just, just that...”

“Bugiarda,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Excuse me?” you asked, getting closer in case you had misunderstood her.

“I say you are a liar,” she repeated, clenching her fists discreetly. “I know perfectly well what they say about me.”

“Oh, okay, but, but you asked me…” you stammered, the awkwardness tensing the atmosphere even more.

Lady Beneviento shrugged with a sigh.

“I was just curious, you're a very strange girl,” she whispered curiously, tilting her head again.

“Likewise,” you said laughing, joking unintentionally. You were too clumsy for social relations, you should know it. “I mean…”

A tender laugh came out of the veil again, a sweet laugh that didn't express that previous coldness. Your heart was restless, but your face made things easier for you, making you smile back.

“Sei divertente…” the lady whispered among laughs.

“Thank you, I guess…” you joked, raising your cup of tea in gratitude, drinking the remaining liquid.

“So you and me get along…” Donna said, after a moment of calm.

“Mm?” you asked confused, crossing your arms. You could no longer hide behind the empty cup.

“You said that before, you say that we get along,” the lady repeated, with a more impatient tone, as if she was annoyed at having to repeat things.

“You're at my house drinking tea so... It seems so,” you said amused, arching your eyebrows.

“How curious, I thought we were here because you’ve destroyed my house,” she said, crossing her arms, finally changing that stoic pose.

“Oh yeah, shit…” you sighed embarrassed again remembering the accident from a while ago.

“Don't talk like that, (Y/N), you're a Lord,” Donna reprimanded you with a stern voice.

“Can't a Lord say shit?” you asked amused, relaxing in the armchair.

“You shouldn't,” the lady said with a dry voice, shaking her head.

“Besides, I'm not a Lord,” you said after a few moments.

“No? So what are you?” she asked in a low, hoarse tone, more like her usual one.

“I don't know,” you answered with a slightly nostalgic sigh. You had never seriously considered that question. “(Y/N)”

“(Y/N)…” the doll maker murmured, in a somber tone. “Lady (Y/N)?”

“Just (Y/N)” you repeated, with a knowing smile, accidentally winking.

“Mm,” she murmured, finishing her tea and letting silence fall over your shoulders again.

“I don't think they'll take long,” you said, unable to find a suitable topic of conversation in your mind, one that wouldn't lead to awkward statements or questions from the lady in black.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, looking at the subtle trembling of your hands.

“No,” you said, putting on a serious expression.

“I’m making you nervous,” she said next, stating, not asking.

“No, no, no, no, I mean…” you stammered. “It's not that I'm nervous because I accidentally destroyed your house and I'm afraid you're going to give me nightmares or something like that,” you said, with a tone totally different from the one you wanted to express.

“If I had wanted you dead, you would already be,” Donna hissed in a sinister voice, one that made a shiver run through your body.

“It was, it was a joke,” you said timidly, scratching the back of your neck.

“I see you are not good at joking either,” she said, with a calmer tone, she even seemed to laugh.

“Not at all,” you said with a fearful smile.

“Hey, get away, you disgusting slime!” Angie's squeals alerted you. “Hey!”

You stood up with the lady, walking towards the door, where a group of lycans waited patiently, curious about the doll.

“Donna, Donna!” the puppet shrieked, running into the arms of her owner. “You, tell them to stop harassing me!”

“Hey, you, stay still,” you ordered the beasts, which continued to surround you in a sinister manner.

The lycans growled, but obeyed.

“Are you done?” you asked in a stern tone, crossing your arms. The strongest-looking one nodded in satisfaction. “Great...”

“There’s no more tree?” Angie asked curiously. You moved your head triumphantly.

“Mm, oh, and don’t worry about the window, the village glazier owes me a favor,” you said pleasantly, with an apologetic look. The growls of those beasts were uncomfortable and made you turn to them. “What are you looking at? Go away, go away…”

The pack of beasts scattered, accidentally hitting the lady in black, who fell to the ground with a gasp.

“Oh, shit, Donna…” you said nervously, helping the lady up. “Hey, be more careful! Shit, sorry, sorry…”

The lady groaned, helped by you and Angie, brushing the snow off her dress.

You were speechless. The black veil covering her face had moved enough for you to see her. She was… She was simply a beautiful woman, really beautiful. The deformity of her face was not an impediment for you to be dazzled. Of course she noticed, opening her one eye wide.

“W-Wait…” you sighed, reaching out your hand to the veil and awkwardly placing it. “There you go.”

“You are not scared,” she murmured, finishing to place the black cloth. You shook your head, with a strange smile.

“No, not at all, you are… You have nothing to do with what they say out there,” you commented unintentionally, nervous because of that beautiful face, one that made your heart race. “You are such a beautiful woman. I don't know why you're covering yourself”

Donna didn't answer. She just looked at you strangely, shaking her head.

“You're really bad at jokes, (Y/N)” she whispered in a surprisingly calm tone. “But thanks for trying.”

“I'm telling the truth,” you said, frowning as the lady walked away with a slow step, picking up her doll again. “Hey, Donna!” you shouted, getting her attention. “I liked having tea with you.”

“Of course, you say we get along, right?” she said, laughing shyly, still walking.

It wasn't the last time you two got together.

From the day you destroyed her house, the visits started to become more and more frequent. They were always absurd talks about topics that weren't important. In your house, in hers, the place didn't matter.

Your mind began to unravel why a part of you seemed addicted to looking over the cliff, to see if the lady would leave her house. She was beautiful… Really beautiful, a wounded woman with a tormented soul who was terribly attractive to you. The veil disappeared over time, at every tea, at every visit she was closer and you were closer.

It was hard for you to recognize it but… Soon friendship was no longer enough, soon your lips sighed as you walked away from that house, as you watched her leave yours. You were attracted to her, you liked her, Donna was perfect for you but at the same time she was something impossible to have and you should accept it before falling into the clutches of an unhealthy crush.

“That was the last time I skied with my dogs,” you said one quiet night, one in which the tea went on so long that the stars shone in the sky.

The fireplace in the Beneviento house crackled, giving your body a different, strange warmth. Maybe it was just having Donna next to you, with her legs up on the couch, listening to your stupid adventures for hours.

The lady in black laughed, changing her teacup for a glass of wine, one she slowly brought to her lips as fire glowed in her eye, making you shiver.

“It wasn't a good idea,” she commented amused, leaving the glass on the table. “You could have hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, well, I'm resilient,” you joked, raising and lowering your eyebrows, settling yourself on that sofa.

“You say your life is boring, but it doesn't seem that way to me,” Donna said, looking at you distractedly, lowering her hand dangerously close to yours.

“Most of the time it's boring, I only tell you the best parts,” you said, drinking your glass of wine, briefly looking at your hands.

“Would you have liked not to be a Lord?” she asked, with a sadder look, without looking at you.

“I'm not a Lord,” you said amused, relaxing your smile when you saw her serious face. “But, what do you mean?”

“You know, I'm wondering if you would have preferred a normal, ordinary life,” the doll maker whispered, looking at you again, curious.

You shrugged, finishing your wine.

“I don't know,” you sighed wistfully, looking at the fireplace. “I guess my life would keep being boring.”

“Mm,” she murmured, resting her head on the couch, as if she was waiting for a longer answer.

“Well, let's see, it has its good points,” you said in a more casual tone.

“Like what?” the lady asked.

“To have met you,” you murmured involuntarily, noticing how your cheeks were heating up with blush.

“You... Are you glad you met me?” Donna asked, leaning towards you.

“Yes, Donna, you are a wonderful woman,” you said, faking a friendly smile, lightly hitting her hand, one that grabbed yours without wanting to, putting your heart on alert.

“I, I'm glad I met you too,” she sighed, watching how your hands played on their own, getting to know each other, caressing each other involuntarily. “I... I...”

“Hey, it's too late, fools!” Angie interrupted, just when your bodies began to walk the path that separated them. You stepped back, keeping your gaze on the lady, who did the same, with a serious expression, as if she had regretted her movements.

“Angie…” Donna sighed, also annoyed by the doll's boldness.

You wondered what would have happened if the puppet hadn't appeared, what your lips would have done.

“S-she's right, um… There's a meeting tomorrow and we should rest,” you said nervously, getting up from the couch.

“Yes, I…” she said, nodding but unable to take her eye off yours and nervous just like you. “We, we'll see each other tomorrow.”

“Yes…” you sighed with a weak smile, taking your hands away from each other at the same time. Unintentionally, they had remained together. “Donna, I…”

“Yes?” she asked, perhaps too quickly.

You opened your mouth but couldn't say what you wanted, something prevented you.

“Nothing, um… Have a good night,” you said timidly, moving away from her.

“(Y/N), wait, I have, I have to tell you something,” the lady said, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Yes?” you said the same way, with almost pleading eyes.

She imitated your gesture, opening her mouth and not saying anything. If it weren't in those circumstances it could have been somewhat comical.

“I... T-thank you for, for having dinner with me,” she finally said. “I hope you rest.”

You nodded disappointedly, walking towards the exit.

Cowardice, that was the only word on your mind. You wanted to tell her many things, you wanted to tell the doll maker that you would like to spend more time with her, that every second by her side was wonderful, but you couldn't do it.

Cowardly, yes, but also worried, your head was spinning from that crush that you couldn't deny. Maybe Donna was just excited to have someone after so much time alone, it could be that the lady in black was just a friend, and nothing else.

If so, any advance on your part would be a hammer, a saw, a cutting element that would irreparably break your friendship.

You didn't want that, you didn't want to lose her for confusing your feelings, for misinterpreting hers.

The next day you opened your eyes routinely. You had barely rested, thinking about everything that was happening around Lady Beneviento, everything you lived with her every day. Staying calm and strengthening the friendship was your priority, no matter how many times your heart reminded you of what you really felt for her.

“Welcome, my children...” Miranda said, while you all sat down in your seats and you smiled at the lady in black, who made a gesture to greet you, indicating that you should sit next to her. “(Y/N)...” the priestess murmured, showing that subtle contempt she felt for you, who were not part of her family but were not a villager either.

“Hey there…” you said haughtily, earning a strange look from the lady in black.

The witch smiled sinisterly, moving away from you to begin her usual speech.

These meetings stopped being boring a long time ago.

While Miranda spoke you made mocking gestures so Donna looked at you, rolling your eyes, nodding ironically... Anything that would grant you the perfect gift of her soft laugh under her veil.

“Hey, Donna, how do you say boring in Italian?” you whispered, getting a little closer to her chair. She looked at you, moving Angie so she was comically leaning in your ear.

“Noioso,” Angie whispered, to which you nodded gratefully.

“Mm,” you murmured amused. “I suppose it will be useful for the next meeting.”

Donna shook her head, sighing amused.

“So… Boring witch would be something like... Strega noiosa?” you asked, getting a little closer to the lady's ear.

“Yes, more or less,” the lady whispered, in a tone that only you could hear. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I like to know what I'm looking at,” you said, pointing at Miranda with your head.

Donna laughed nervously, unable to be discreet, attracting the attention of the priestess, who immediately fell silent.

“Donna, I can't believe it,” Miranda sighed, crossing her arms. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing, Mother Miranda,” the lady murmured, holding back her laughter.

You looked away, meeting the eyes of the lady of the castle, who was looking at you with a frown, you didn't know for how long.

“Oh, okay, go away, out...” Miranda said, tired, gesturing with her hand.

Luckily, you were spared that reprimand.

“I'll kill you, (Y/N),” Donna whispered as you walked back home. “I swear I'll kill you.”

“Hey, I didn't do anything,” you joked. “I'm just trying to pass the time.”

“I'm sure you did,” the lady said, walking slowly beside you. “Oh, I'm almost done with the doll you ordered.”

“Wow, that's fast,” you said satisfied, walking slower and slower, enjoying that little moment of company.

“Well, the hounds were difficult to make” she commented, disinterested.

“Oh, shit, I mean, jeez…” you joked, scratching the back of your neck. “Now that you mention it… I should go buy them some meat.”

“Are you coming this afternoon?” the ventriloquist asked, accidentally taking your hand, something that you, of course, didn't prevent. “I'd like… For us to have dinner together, like yesterday.”

“Sure, but I'll cook,” you said amused as your hands slowly separated.

Donna turned around, giving you one last look before disappearing into the forest.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Ah, fuck!” you screamed when a hand rested on your shoulder. You turned around scared.

Alcina, Lady Dimitrescu, was behind you, with the same expression as at the meeting.

“Well, well…” she murmured in a sensual voice.

“Oh, hello, Alcina, I…” you stammered, still scared. “Do you need something? Have you run out of firewood?”

“No…”she sighed, changing her frown into a sinister smile. “Tell me, (Y/N), what exactly is going on between you and my sister?” she asked, making you blush again.

“What? I don't understand,” you said nervously, looking for an escape route with your gaze. There wasn't one.

“Please, I saw you at the meeting, you looked like two clingy teenagers,” she commented, rolling her eyes. “Come on, confess, what's going on?”

“We are, we are friends,” you said, with a sad smile.

“Donna has a friend…” Alcina sighed, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “Do you realize how stupid it sounds?”

“I don't know why you say that, she's a kind woman and… When, when you meet her it's… It's…”

“I know what she's like, dear,” the lady in white interrupted. “That's why I'm surprised that someone like you got that close to her.”

“We, we get along,” you said, nodding with a serious face, watching the lady in black walk away without looking back, luckily.

“Is that all?” Dimitrescu asked.

Let's see, she was over a hundred years old, she wasn't exactly stupid... It wouldn't be easy to fool her.

“Yes... Unfortunately,” you sighed, looking at the snow under your feet.

“Oh, see? That doesn't seem like a dirty lie anymore,” the lady in white joked. “So? What are you going to do?”

“What? Oh, nothing...” you said with a sad, timid voice, shaking your head. “I guess.”

“Mm...” Alcina murmured, running a huge hand over your shoulders. “It's funny... You, a Lord...”

“I'm not a... Bah, never mind,” you said, interrupting but regretting it later.

“How can it be? You face Mother Miranda and don't have the guts to tell Donna what you feel,” she said, with an inquisitive look.

She knew more about your feelings than you did. Would Donna have talked to her? It seemed unlikely.

“It seems easy, but it isn't,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“I think so, dear…” she sighed, lighting a cigarette. “Take some advice from me, (Y/N)… Tell her.”

“I can't do that, what if she doesn't feel the same?” you said nervously, less and less uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Please…” Alcina murmured, rolling her eyes again. “Stop fooling around and tell her how you feel. Donna doesn't take hints, understand? She needs really big signs to show her the way.”

You nodded, frowning.

“Hey, what do you care?” you asked curiously.

The lady in white shrugged her shoulders with a funnily sinister smile.

“Let's say that… I need some time without the castle phone ringing and disturbing me…”

“What?” you asked curiously. “Did Donna tell something to you?”

“I didn't say that, (Y/N)…” the vampire murmured, turning elegantly, leaving you stuck to the snow, blinking and breathing heavily. “What are you doing standing there? Run…”

You nodded, overcome by euphoria, turning around with a smile. Yes, Donna felt the same, there was no doubt. You didn't know why Alcina helped you, or what things Donna told her about you but… You had to tell her, tell her that your cabin wasn't warm enough if she wasn't with you, that… That you loved her…

You ran with all your might, jumping through the forest with the strength that love, or nerves, gave you.

You reached the clearing where little Claudia was resting and took one last big jump, avoiding the elevator.

As you fell you realized that you had terribly miscalculated and your body was quickly approaching the mansion hopelessly.

“Shit!” you shouted protecting yourself with your arms as you went through the newly repaired attic window, falling thunderously to the ground. “Ouch...”

You shook the glass off your body, checking that your wounds were healing on their own as usual.

“Hey!” Angie's shrieks reached your ears and you, timidly, looked out the broken window with an embarrassed smile.

“Hi...” you sighed timidly, moving your hand in greeting, looking at the lady who was watching you calmly.

“(Y/N)?” Donna asked, shaking her head.

“Silly! What's your problem with that window?” Angie asked as you jumped to the ground in a quick movement, landing in front of the lady.

“I'm sorry, I had to talk to you,” you said nervously as she removed a piece of glass from your dress, one that you couldn't shake off.

“I guess walking isn't your thing, right?” Donna commented, amused, not the slightest bit bothered by your accident.

“No, my favorite hobby is being with you,” you said quickly. She moved away, but not enough for your hands to not be able to reach her face. “D-Donna, I... I...”

Not finding words that could be useful, you decided push that horrible veil away from her face and capture her lips with yours, in a deep, sincere kiss that she immediately returned.

“I'm in love with you,” you whispered still on her lips, kissing her slowly, grabbing her waist as she did the same, smiling in relief.

“Really? Are you serious?” the lady asked, caressing your cheeks. “Me, me too…”

“Yes… I may not want to be a Lord but, but I want to be by your side, to be with you… I, I love you, Donna, I love you…”

“Lord or not, my heart is yours, (Y/N)… Yours forever…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

66 notes · View notes

o-sachi · 2 days

Text

─── A Letter for @strawchocoberry ✦

If you have received this, it means you signed up for Sachi's Selfship Event !

Thank you for requesting, ml. Thank you for hyping me up and the silly stuff that I write. YOU ARE THE BEST! I love you and your amazing brain. Mindy lore goes hard by the way. My ship. I hope I do your ship justice mehehe.

✉️ Attachment: ABCs with Michael Kaiser

[C] Comfort Honestly, he's a bit lost with how to comfort you at first. But he knows first hand how it feels to be down and not have someone there to support him. So he does his best; he asks you what you want and what you need. If you want space, an ear to listen, or comforting words; Mihya will try his hardest to give you exactly that. Although, most of the time he'll comfort you through physical touch rather than words. Oh, and he leaves a lot of surprise gifts for you to find so that he can see that smile on your face again.

[D] Dates He takes you out on dates as if it's always your first; Mihya always strives to impress you after all. One for theatrics, he usually takes you out on fancy dinner dates or shopping sprees. But if you insist on a more "toned down" kind of date, he won't mind either. BUT, he will always find a way to spice it up. Movie date? He has a big ass projector rented for the two of you. That or maybe he takes you to one of those drive thru movie screenings (the old fashioned kind). He will ALWAYS give you princess treatment.

[G] Gifts Like I said, one of his love languages is gift giving. He was definitely deprived of this kind of love as a child, so he makes sure you'd never feel the same as he did when he was younger. He has the thinking of, "money can be earned again," so he's not shy about splurging on you. He also likes receiving things from you—doesn't matter if it's a small or huge gift. Mihya only cares that it came from you and you thought about it with him in mind. A gift he has given you before is a shiny golden locket with a picture of a blue rose inside. And a gift he likes receiving from you are the baked goods that you make every week. He finds it extra thoughtful.

[I] Intimacy You form a deeper connection because he finds himself drawn to your genuine personality. He was fully expecting you to fall for him at first because he was a famous football star and he had good looks. So imagine his surprise when he found out that you weren't that simple. You may have fallen first, but he fell harder. And it was all thanks to the support and presence you had in his life. You were the thing he never knew he needed. However, he's quite aggressive with romance—wanting everything to be fast paced. But that's mostly because he feels safe and secure with you. He's just that sure of you.

[J] Jealousy Normally he'd be on high alert if he knows someone is trying to get into his territory. But you've reassured him enough to a point that he feels fine most of the time. Just don't do it on purpose or tease him about it because he'll begin to overthink (poor guy). But if he does get jealous, he's the type to confront the other person directly. There is no beating the bush with this man, especially when it comes to you. Although, I feel like you'd be the more jealous one with the relationship... y'know, having to deal with the massive Kaiser fan club. But he tells you time and time again that you're the only one for him.

[N] Nicknames So shameless that he calls you darling and sweetheart right off the bat. Even when you were doing your research on him and his team—he'd call you those names behind the scenes. It pissed you off at first, honestly. But as you two got into a relationship and things got serious, Mihya started calling you petnames in German like Schatz and Liebe. To him, those feel more meaningful, thus you deserve them. He doesn't mind any name that you call him... just don't call him by his actual name or he'll start pouting.

[T] Time Apart You think that you have it worse because, of course, he's always the one away for football, right? He'll even tease you about being so "clingy" whenever you'd hop on a call together. But, deep down, he is suffering more than you are. He'll try to laugh it off though. Mihya also buys you plushies that you can have on your bed. He says it might help you remind you of him (he also spritzes a bit of his cologne on them before giving it to you because he's sneaky like that). He'll definitely send you a shit ton of pictures of him and the places he has been going to. Be sure to send some back or else he will bug you for them!

[W] Wildcard He actually likes listening to you yap about whatever it is you're currently reading or writing at the moment. He'll look at you the entire time and nod along. You know he's actually listening because he asks questions. Random thought, but you two have definitely done the ribbon-bicep trend before.

[X] XOXO I feel like he enjoys reading in his free time hence the reading glasses. Sometimes, when you're settled in and reading something, he'll sit down beside you and read along with his own book. You two just sit there together—appreciating each other's presence silently. Yeah, he has started reading A LOT more because of this. He really just wants you to feel that he's into the things you're into.

[Y] Yin & Yang You two are kind of opposites? Like I said, he's very aggressive when it comes to love while you're softer and more gentle. But it works out because you balance each other—leading the relationship at a moderate pace. However, you complement each other based on your "maintenance." You like getting princess treatment and he would happily fulfill that for you. But you also like to give the same energy back. And for Mihya, someone who has lived for most of his life with below the bare minimum, your love was something that blew him away. That's what got him hooked on you tbh.

Thank you for participating. I hope you like it :3

Want to participate? Give this a read.

#sachi's ss event #blue lock #michael kaiser #self ship #self shipping #for: candy #Banners are from @/cafekitsune !

27 notes · View notes

obscurecookiestims · 1 year

Note

SCOVILLIA HEADMASTER PRETTY PLEEEEAAASEEEEEE

"FIRE OF PASSION ' ♬♪ BURNIN' IN MA HEART…! ♬♪"

Scovillia Headmaster from Cookie Run: Kingdom!

🔥🎸🔥

🎸🔥🎸

🔥🎸🔥

#My first request! Hope it's to your liking! :D #Also apologies for no post yesterday #My motivation was in the gutter lmao #stimboard #fire stim #molten glass stim #bath bomb stim #skull stim #guitar stim #red stim #orange stim #cookie run stimboard #cookie run #scovillia headmaster #🌈 character boards #🌈 Requests

28 notes · View notes

fayes-fics · 4 months

Text

Mirror, Mirror

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: When Benedict's wife tries on his clothes, things happen...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, cross-dressing, clothing kink, light biting, breast play, a smidge of intercrural sex, very mild exhibitionism, mirror sex, vaginal sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: Request fill for @d-caryophyllus (HERE) about Benedict being aroused by his wife dressing up in his clothing. I hope this fits what you were hoping for, my dear. Thanks as ever to @colettebronte for the beta read. Yes, the title is a nod to Season 3, lol. Err, enjoy! <3

It’s early in the morning on a mundane Thursday when a somewhat daring idea forms in your mind.

Fresh out of your morning bath, you dismiss your maid quietly when usually she would assist you with dressing for the day. As the double doors click closed discreetly behind her, you glance through the open archway into your bedroom; heavy curtains still drawn there, obscuring the sunlight. In the darkness, you can just decipher the outline of your husband sleeping soundly after a late night of carousing with his brothers.

With a little secret smile, you decide that, yes, now is the perfect time. He is asleep, and you have a few hours to spare until your first social engagement - a ladies' luncheon - so why not use the time to satisfy your curiosity?

You stride to your husband's side of the dressing room, opening his wardrobe doors and running your fingers over the items within—a symphony of wools, silks and cotton, all luxurious to the touch. While he is arguably one of the more flamboyantly dressed men of the Ton, with eye-catching jewel-toned waistcoats and colourful cravats, the basics of his outfit are mostly the same every time: dark trousers and a white shirt. A large part of you is envious of that easier choice. Sometimes, it feels like a veritable minefield being a woman during the social season, the looming threat of an unintended fashion faux pas simply by wearing the wrong colour to the wrong event.

Upon a chair, you spy the outfit he discarded when he came home in the early hours, not yet tidied away by your staff. You decide this shall be your choice, a frisson that they are already worn.

Dropping your bathrobe from your shoulders, you grab the pair of his trousers and pull them on. The finely woven wool feels plush on your skin, and there is an undeniable novelty in having fabric between your thighs. They are, however, almost comically long for you, and you have to bend to roll them up a few times around your ankles. Bemused, you briefly catch sight of your reflection in the full-length dressing room mirror, topless in oversized trousers.

You snatch his white shirt and pull it on, pausing to tug the ruffled lapels up to your face and inhale deeply, enjoying the flood of scent there. His woodsy citrus cologne, yes, but also that undercurrent that is all him. That tang you cannot help but bury your face into, be it upon his pillow when he is away or his body while you cling to him, moving together in ecstasy.

You fasten a few buttons, then tuck the shirt into the trousers and loop the braces hanging loose around your hips up onto your shoulders, once again inspecting your reflection in the mirror with a wry smile, twisting this way and that, admiring how different you look dressed in his clothing.

“Wife, what are you doing?”

You almost jump out of your skin as that velvet tone, slightly roughened by sleep, calls out from across the room. You twist to see Benedict leaning casually upon the archway into the dressing room, shooting you a look that is pure menacing intrigue while looking like sin himself—all riotous bedhead, and, as your eyes slip further down, gloriously naked. It makes you swallow hard.

“I… I was trying on your clothes,” you stumble sheepishly, a blush creeping over your cheeks being caught doing something perhaps rather bizarre.

“Any reason?” he queries, bemused, that crooked smile claiming his features.

“They just seem so much more practical and comfortable—especially trousers. I would like to wear such things…” you confess, turning back to the mirror to appraise your appearance again, watching him prowl towards you in the reflection. “Are… are you vexed with me, husband? For taking such liberties?” Your words petering out, mildly abashed.

A large, warm hand wraps around your shoulder, yanking you back almost roughly, making you gasp as your shoulder blades collide with his chest.

“The precise opposite,” he rumbles, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, a sudden burning intensity that makes your lungs feel tight.

Long fingers spider down his brocade brace, draped down your chest, lingering where the strap rests over your nipple, swiping his thumb in a deliberate tease, his face triumphant as you swoon back into him from just this simple touch.

“My clothes look much better upon you than me,” he opines duskily, his lips tracing your temple as his fingertips push the brace aside to capture your nipple through the thin cotton shirt, making you inhale sharply. “Perhaps we should attend a party with you dressed like this?”

“That would be a scandal!”

There is a vault in your stomach at the idea of attending a social event dressed in his clothes, even as you melt under his questing touch.

“Not in the more… bohemian… circles that I know of…” he contends; his breath is a warm gust in your ear as his other hand does the same, fondling both nipples now.

He waits until you meet his gaze in the mirror again, then lowers his lips to your neck and bites gently. His incisors a faint scrape, immediately soothed by a wide, wet lathe of his tongue. A little crest of victory as something sizeable stirs against the cleft of your bottom.

“If I were dressed as you, then what would you wear, husband?”

“Whatever you would like, my darling,” he offers between soft, damp kisses, a tingle running up your neck from his lips to the top of your scalp. “I could wear your clothing should you wish it. Or perhaps just your corset and underwear?” He nuzzles into you, taking a deep breath. “Our little secret…”

Something about his tone, the images he concocts, makes your blood run warm, your hand reaching up and diving into his luscious hair, tugging gently upon his roots so again he feels compelled to use his teeth, a groan bubbling up from within as he does. With a flick of his wrists, the braces fall from your shoulders, and he cups your breasts through his thin cotton shirt. It makes you sigh his name, asking for more, arousal coursing thickly through your veins—a yen to be taken right away.

“The thought arouses you, does it not?” he correctly surmises, trailing his touch down over the shirt, brushing your ribs and belly to the fastening on the trousers, making short work of the buttons.

You nod demurely, biting your lip as you watch his dextrous hands in the mirror, his arms encircling you; it is almost as if he is removing them from himself. The air feels heady as he pushes the loosened fabric from around your frame, and it hits the rug with an audible thump.

Standing before him in just his ruffled white shirt with only a few buttons fastened, you feel his weighted stare in the mirror, lingering on the patch of hair at the apex of your thighs peeking out between the shirt sides.

“I shall prefer you keep this on…” he asserts, popping open a button over your chest so the fabric opens enough for him to slide a hand inside, tweaking your nipple and pulling you back into his frame, rutting his now solid cock against your bottom.

You turn your head to press your lips to his, imploring for more of his touch in a fervent whisper before seeking a kiss. His mouth is hot on yours, rolling his tongue with yours, endless caresses of your breasts as you burn so hot you rub your thighs together in delicious anticipation of more, already more than ready for him, your clit pulsing with each tease of his tongue.

“Here?”

You know what he is asking—if you wish to have sex right where you stand, in front of your dressing mirror, his shirt loose around your body, him naked behind you.

“Yes. Yes please…” you murmur into his mouth, rolling your body against him, telegraphing unmistakable need.

“The window is open,” he points out with a smirk, nodding towards a high window that allows in light to the dressing room but affords you not to be seen; it is open this morning to let in the summer breeze. “What if we are heard?”

“I care not,” you confess, exhaling jaggedly, knowing he likes you in this state, desperate and debauched, uncaring if you may be overheard in your pursuit of pleasure.

Rubbing yourself upon him akin to a feline in heat, moving so his cock passes teasingly between your thighs now as you writhe. He groans and tells you not to stop, hissing his approval. So you squeeze your legs together tightly, allowing him to rut between them, the pass of his cock glancing maddeningly over your engorged clit.

His touch becomes heavier, hands mapping your body as his hips surge, and you see the red, weeping tip of his cock emerging and disappearing in the mirror, an intoxicating sight. You moan lightly with every pass, a tantalising swipe, not enough to bring you real pleasure, just notching your want higher.

He finally takes pity upon you, angling his hips differently and driving into you; you, moaning at the invasion so deep and encompassing, rocked up onto your tiptoes. Every time he has entered your body, it's always the same: a force that steals your breath and makes your eyes roll. His hands are a firm grip around your waist as he withdraws slowly back, then surges in again, capturing your earlobe in his teeth as he does.

As your eyes meet in the mirror, you idly wonder how many other wives are watching themselves being fucked by a handsome husband like this; a bright weekday morning, birdsong wafting in on the scented breeze, body wrapped only in his shirt. You suspect none are quite so lucky.

You moan his name and arch back against him, wrapping your hands around his neck and watching yourself being taken, relying on him to keep your stance steady as he starts to fuck into you in earnest, large hands sliding up to cup your breasts, engulfing them in his warm palms.

Unable to stop the noises you make, each pass hitting all the spots inside that make your toes curl into the thick pile of the rug beneath your feet, your pussy clenching around his invasion, making him growl and move faster, taking you harsher, an onslaught that is as pleasurable as it is powerful.

His mouth is a breathy litany of praise into your cheekbone, your eyes fluttering closed to focus on the carnal moment - the sweat, the skin, the ragged breaths, the meeting of your bodies so primal and glorious, but he has other ideas.

“Look at yourself,” he purrs dulcetly, your eyes reopening to do as he asks, to watch this unrestrained moment of passion, to see the little marks blooming on your body from where his fingers dig into your flesh as he pounds into you now, a flourish of colour on your neck from his thorough attention.

You plead for more throatily, pushing back as best you can against his thrusts, wanting him to make you scream, uncaring of any audience inside or outside your townhouse, only craving the sweet, blissful release he always provides.

Abruptly, he wrenches open the shirt you wear, one button pinging forward and tinking against the mirror before skittering across the floor, your naked body framed by his crisp white shirt, the ruffled lapels tickling the sides of your breasts, catching sight of his handsome face in the mirror contorted in a passionate tempest.

Then one hand slides down your front, you feeling it rippling in your belly and seeing it in your reflection before you until those fingers slide between your legs and hook over your clit with a force that steals the air from your lungs, a sharp stab of pleasure that makes your knees buckle, him pausing in his motions briefly to brace your weight, keep you upright.

Then it is a blur as he restarts his motion, his fingers dance on your swollen pearl, slipping silkily over his touch as he grunts encouragements. It feels like you are circling for so long, so close to something mind-blowing, but then he flicks harshly with his fingernail and bites your neck, and you are hurtling. Everything is loud and quiet at once, no doubt your voice calling his name as you tumble over the edge, clenching hard around him as your whole body shatters and rebuilds in a blissful puzzle. Dimly, as you float, you feel his entire body tense, and with a roar, he follows you over, a warmth blooming inside you as he reaches completion.

There are a few moments of panted breaths as you both recover from the intensity before he spins you around and sweeps you into his arms, carrying you back to bed. There, he lays you down gently and proceeds to turn you into a molten, quivering pile, mapping your body with his lips and fingers until you are begging for him again, which he more than obliges. So much so you are almost late for your social engagement.

If there are a few derogatory looks as you swan into the ladies' luncheon with a blissful smile and a burgeoning mark on your neck from your husband's amorous intentions, well, so be it. You wouldn't change it for the world.

And it is also most definitely not the last time you dress up in his clothes…

Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #1k notes #2k notes

3K notes · View notes

tender-rosiey · 29 days

Note

hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D

true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH

the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.

meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.

the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.

you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.

though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.

“no.”

“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”

“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.

you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”

he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”

“yay!”

you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”

one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”

the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”

you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”

the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”

“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”

they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”

the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?

they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.

you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.

you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.

the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.

you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.

sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.

for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.

you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.

it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.

you frowned, “that is my spot.”

he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”

“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”

at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”

“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”

a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.

he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.

he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”

you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”

that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.

he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.

instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.

the door finally opens, and it reveals you.

sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.

what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.

you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.

he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”

he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”

instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”

amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”

“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.

“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.

they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.

he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”

in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.

the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.

you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.

you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.

he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.

he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.

his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.

“sukuna, my name…?”

he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”

you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”

“and I am not usual, am I?”

you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”

you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.

the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.

you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.

you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.

“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.

he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”

“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”

you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.

the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.

uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”

vows? sukuna prepared vows?

tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”

okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.

but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”

he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.

—

“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.

you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”

“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”

they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.

you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.

“high, my lord.”

you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”

he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.

it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.

with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.

“ooo, red wine!”

“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”

after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.

finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”

he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”

“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.

he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”

“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”

“I don’t care!”

“oh?”

you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.

you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.

he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro @poopooindamouf

do not copy or plagiarize or I will put you on gege's list

check out my buy me a coffee!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen x you #ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #sukuna x female reader

1K notes · View notes

kissforyouu · 2 months

Text

I LOVE YOUR TITTIES BECAUSE THEY PROVE I CAN FOCUS ON TWO THINGS AT ONCE !

pairing : bf!jungkook x reader

genre : established relationship

warnings : boobs boobs boobs BOOBS !!! massive boob kink idk everything boobs :P

request : hii, can i ask for something like my bf wont stop touching me but instead of her butt make it her breast? only if ur up to it <3

note : I FINALLY POSTED A FIC R YALL HAPPY WOOO. hope u like dis :D

unedited.

bf!jungkook who's had some sort of a hyperfixation on your tits ever since you both had sex for the first time.

he would always take the chance if it meant he'd get to look or touch your tits.

you walk around your living room with your broom as you swept the floor. jungkook was comfortably seated on the sofa, manspreading as he consumed whatever that was on the tv. you sweep around the sofa, poking the broom under the sofa to check for any trash thats possibly left under it. deciding that that wasn't enough, the place the broom carefully so that it's laid against the sofa, you get down on your knees.

this action catches your boyfriend's attention, his eyes shifting from the tv to you in the matter of a second. you don't notice though. you sit properly on your knees, slightly raising your body up a little so that you could tie your hair up in a messy bun. jungkook licks his lips, fully infatuated by you. but the moment you bend forward to peep under the sofa, that's when he loses his mind. your tits were peaking out of your shirt oh so clearly. he could see the swell of your tits and the thin layer of sweat covering them.

your boyfriend smirks, "thanks for the nice view."

your boyfriend was a little perverted. okay, a lot maybe. only for you though. he always made you wear those see through lace tank tops at home. he'd buy all the cute tank tops to make your tits look pretty and squeezed against one another. not like you minded. you loooveeedddd getting spoiled. plus, free clothes. who would say no? he would always find a way to grope your tits at any moment. but not in public though. that was weird.

jungkook's back was resting against the headboard of the bed as he typed away on his computer. some work matters, you thought. you looked at your boyfriend who was so focused on whatever document he was typing. his eyebrows were furrowed and he was also doing that thing he did whenever he was frustrated--his tongue was poking his cheek.

you slide under the covers, scooting next to your boyfriend and gently lifting his arm up so that you could go under it and lay on his lap while his arm rested on your body while typing. you do just that, your head now resting on his lap while you stared at whatever he was typing on the computer.

minutes pass by, jungkook's hand was comfortably laying on top of your clothed tits. he tapped his fingers on the fat of your right breast, mindlessly pressing onto the flesh finger by finger in a pattern. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, index finger, middle finger, ring finger—

and of course you expected it, it didn't take him any longer before he slid his hand inside to pull out your right tit. jungkook's entire hand envelopes the fat, squeezing it tightly. his touch was very warm, you didn't mind. you squirm in your spot, shifting your position once jungkook switches to your other tit, pulling out the flesh out of your top.

he had no intentions of doing anything sexual after, just wanted to fondle with your tits. maybe he'll suck them if you behaved well. but you couldn't control the growing wetness in your pussy, already wetting your panties. you mewl a little once he twists your nipple in between his fingers, and that's when he notices.

"is my girl getting horny?"

before sleep, he always made sure to give your tits a few kisses. and sometimes (most of the time), they turned into a little more.

"ah...mh, mh, hm" you hum in utter satisfaction, eyes shut while enjoying the pure bliss you're getting from your boyfriend's skillful tongue.

he swirls his tongue around your nipple, eagerly lapping on the hardened bud. jungkook's eyes never left your tits as he made out with the hardened buds, making you feel sooooo good.

"please. don't stop." you whimper out while caressing your boyfriend's hair. his hair smelt exactly like yours, since he started using your godly vanilla shampoo. you just wanted to bury your face in his hair. you massaged his scalp good, had him moaning and groaning into your tits.

he pulled back for a moment to look at his little artwork. you had his saliva all over your tits, making them glisten under the dim light in the room. jungkook spits on your tits again, then spreads it around using the tip of his tongue. it was so nasty. he licks around your areola with the very tip of his tongue, then envelopes your nipple again. he teasingly bites it, causing you to let out a small yelp. he flicks your nipple with his tongue while it was inside of his mouth and pulls away to return back with another harsh suck.

"that feel good?", his fingertips were pressed onto your waist as he smothered his face all over your tits (literally). you could feel the tip of his tongue glide all over your chest and his cheeks pressing onto the flesh of your breath. it was nasty. the saliva on your chest was no longer just there but also on his face as he hungrily inhaled your breasts in and consumed them for the full extent. he was so so so erotic.

jungkook kisses you until you run out of breath while his fingers pinched your nipples hard, twisting them with intentions of causing you pain sexually. you wince. god, you feel your body twitching. your pussy's so wet. clenching on absolutely nothing. it was so evident. the wet patch on your panties. the way your panties hugged your pussy so tightly, the slick was coating the thin material so nicely. the way it hugged your pussy drove jungkook crazy. the material was so tight that it perfectly made out the shape of your chubby pussy.

he cups your breasts with both of his hands, squeezing them till the worlds end. this was supposed to be a comforting moment where he just fondled your breasts before sleep. but now you're grinding against eachother like horny freaks.

another thing that got him so riled up was the cute gold "J" necklace he got you that you would wear. he loved the way it sat on your cleavage, right in between your breasts. he liked it even better when the cute lace tops you got him squeezed your breasts together and the sparkly J initial sat in between the soft pillows. it drove him craaaazy, actually. jungkook always made you ride him when you looked like that.

"jus' like that, baby, hm", his head was slanted against the headboard of you guys' bed, eyes dazed, but still looking at your breasts. you rode his dick till dawn, up and down, up and down.

one of your tits were out of your tight, lace see-through bra and molded into jungkook's palm. he squeezed the flesh in his palm while you made circles on his dick. his tip was hitting the exact right spot that drove you crazy, and it had you twitching on spot.

your boyfriend leans in to lick your hardened clothed nipple of the neglected breast, tugging on the nipple and wetting the lace as well. it was just a big wet smudge on your right tit.

he was like an animal when it came to fucking you. he would pull up with the nastiest ways to have you. jungkook had no shame. his hips raise upwards as he thrusted from below, overtaking your slow ass pace.

"m—mm, hah! please, so fast...!", your tongue was out, panting, and so was his. instead his was licking a stripe from all the way from your stomach, up your cleavage to your lips. he kicked your messily, both of you exchanging saliva to one another in your mouths, passing it around like a football. he tugs on your nipple, harshly pulling it and twisting the bud.

that hurt, obviously.

jungkook pulls away from the kiss and rests his back against the headboard again, still thrusting into you though. at this point both of your tits were out of your bra, jumping up and down, putting on a show for his attention.

you notice the way he moans while eyeing your tits. his eyes travel to the gold necklace in between after, the J necklace that you treasure so much.

"looks so fuckin' hot between those pretty titties. you keep this on all the time, yeah? makes you look prettier when i fuck you, babydoll." he kisses your shoulder blade, trailing kisses to your neck. wrapped around your neck was the gold chain, and jungkook lolls his tongue out to trace the metal chain. he tugs on the chain with his teeth, pulling on it with a groan.

you were getting so tired from jumping on his dick. the more you rode him, the closer you got to your release. jungkook let go of your chain, but grab hold of it this time with his hand. his palm lands two loud slaps on your asscheek, making you moan. same time, he could feel you tighten around his cock. "liked that?" you nod your head repeatedly.

jungkook tugs on the chain, pulling it backwards and then twisting it around his knuckles, choking you with the chain.

fuck, fuck, fuck. so hot.

you crack out a laugh, tongue out, panting. you were so close. so so so close. you had your tits squeezed between eachother tightly, your hands squishing the flesh as you felt the orgasm take over you. your pussy was spasming around his dick as you moan out loud, body thrown over jungkook's chest, tits pressed against his. jungkook definitely loved that feeling.

soon after you cum around him and milk his cock, he does too. his cum slips out of your contracting pussyhole.

jungkook lets out a laugh, hand patting your back and smoothing it. then he looks down from above, enjoying the birds point of view of your squished up tits and necklace in between.

he might just get hard again.

aftercare with jungkook has always been simple. you + boobs + him .

"humph, kook." you groan once you feel your boyfriend's hands squeeze your tits one more time. "bit more." he tugs on your nipple with the tip of his fingers, wiggling on his spot to find a comfortable position in the crook of your neck.

"aah, 'm so sore, baby." your voice aches through with yet another groan. "it's okay. you know it's okay." jungkook reassures.

"how about i give you a massage?" he raises his head up to look at your passed out face. "that's just another excuse for you to touch my tits..."

your boyfriend laughs, "are you complaining, though?" you shake your head with a small smile and turning on your back so that you're laying on your stomach.

jungkook slaps the fat of your ass before he begins to massage around your shoulder area. he does it soooooooooooo good though. he makes sure to press onto your bones and tightly circle around, causing you to moan in satisfaction. you enjoy his massage well until he gropes your breasts from the back, giving both of them a tight squeeze. you yelp in surprised. well, not really, you knew this was coming anyway.

he squeezes your tits and massages them well and even makes sure to give both of them equal attention.

and you both fall asleep with his head nuzzled between your tits and your hand massaging his scalp.

whenever you sucked his cock, at the end, he would always ask "where do you want it?". stupid question. there was only one answer.

jungkook's tip twitches in your mouth and he loosens his grip on your hair, a cracked moan also escaping his lips. "f—fuck, baby. you're so pretty with your lips around my fucking dick."

you flutter your eyes open, bobbing your head up and down. you feel jungkook twitch in your mouth, again. "mhm, where do you- want it?"

there was always only one answer.

you were wearing this grey oversized shirt with the thinnest material. it showed your nipples so well. dare i say jungkook got off to that as well. to answer his question, you squeeze your breast through the material and moan, mouth still filled with dick. he gets the memo and pulls his dick out of your mouth.

you cough out but quickly dismiss yourself and pull the neckline of the shirt down to expose your tits, both coated with a layer of sweat. jungkook cusses at the reveal of your breasts, fastening the speed of his wrist before he spurts his cum onto your exposed boobs.

"haaaaa. oh my god, fuck". you moan out, watching the spurts of cum land all over your breasts, some on the shirt as well as your neck. the white liquid was all over your nipples. so you make sure to rub them with both your index fingers, coating them well before bringing them to your mouth at once to taste them. you lick yourself erotically just as you did to his dick just a few seconds ago and taste your boyfriend's cum in your mouth.

"you taste so so good, baby."

and it's like jungkook's hypnotised again.

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts jk #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #fanfiction #jungkook x you #bts jungkook

2K notes · View notes

simpforrooster · 10 months

Text

actually, it’s captain.

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader

summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.

t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.

Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.

Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”

You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.

“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.

“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.

And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.

“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.

Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.

But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.

You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.

Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”

Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.

“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.

“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.

“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”

At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.

“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.

Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.

Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.

Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”

“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.

You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.

“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.

“Yeah?” he murmurs back.

Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.

“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.

Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.

Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.

“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.

“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.

masterlist.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster imagine #rooster x oc #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw

3K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 6 months

Note

hi bug! Can I request you a ditzy or shy!reader where some girl flirts with Steve in front of her maybe at Family Video? Little angsty because she feels insicure of herself? Thank you🩷

ty for requesting!! — steve doesn't realize he's being flirted with because he's so in love with you (ditzy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)

You color in a scribbled heart with enough vigor to break the pink crayon in your hand.

Steve always hangs your drawings in his locker in the Family Video break room, so you tend to take your art pretty seriously. ‘Cause there’s absolutely nothing humorous about the two stick figures holding hands — each of them vaguely resembling the both of you — that you’re passionately scribbling behind the front counter.

He’d watch you work your magic on a piece of lined scrap paper if he could. He’s too busy tending to a regular now. Mia, he thinks, or maybe Maia. She rents movies every week, but according to the system, she doesn’t watch a single one of them.

“Well, what do you recommend?” she questions with a smirk on her painted lips, leaning her elbows on the counter until her chest juts out.

Steve leans slowly backward and tries not to cough at the overwhelming scent of her fruity perfume. “Uh… I don’t know,” he answers with an unenthusiastic shrug. “I usually just watch whatever.”

The girl squints her dolled-up eyes. “You don’t have a favorite movie?”

Steve ponders the question for a moment. ‘Cause he doesn’t have one, really. All his favorite films are your favorites because he spends the majority of movie nights watching you instead.

So, at a loss of how to answer, he tells her your first choice. “The Star Wars movies are pretty alright.”

“Do you have them here?” she wonders.

Steve nods and points her in the other direction. “Yeah. In the Sci-Fi section.”

“Can you show me?” the girl questions with a hopeful glint in her pale eyes. Everything about her sparkles with mischief, like a predator hunting for prey. Stealthy, like a ninja, Steve would’ve called the approach a couple years ago. Long before he found you.

He’s more into forthright proclamations of love these days — bubblegum pink lipstick stains pressed to his cheek and handmade pictures drawn in crayon.

But, for the sake of Keith totally reaming him for not helping a customer, Steve nods and rounds the front counter. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Follow me,” he urges halfheartedly, sparing you a forlorn glance as he goes. You’re much too distracted to see it, though.

You’re too distracted to notice most things, really.

That’s why Robin’s angrier than you are about the whole thing. She exhales a big huff and stands across from you, peering over the tower of tapes there. “God, he’s so oblivious,” she groans.

Your hand freezes as you color in Steve’s vest. You glance up at her with wide eyes, heart sinking at the annoyed look on her freckled features. “Huh?”

“Steve. That girl’s been drooling over him for five minutes, and he hasn’t even realized.”

Your brows pinch. “What girl?”

“The one that’s hanging all over him,” Robin answers, nodding her head to the other side of the store. The girl in question lingers at Steve’s side, a little too close to be casual. She hangs on every word he says — which certainly can’t be a whole lot, considering he knows next to nothing about that Star Wars franchise.

“I thought she was just being nice,” you shrug.

“She was flirting with your boyfriend,” Robin corrects in a monotone. “It was disgusting. I’m pretty sure her flirt got all over my pants.”

You look back at the two across the room. Steve tenses when the pretty redhead presses her chest against his arm. For the sake of not making things totally awkward, he forces himself not to shrink away. What had seemed virtually innocuous to you now makes your stomach ache.

“She’s so pretty…” you observe quietly to yourself.

Robin only scoffs. “Yeah. If you’re into girls like that.”

You don’t know exactly what she means, but it makes you lean slightly forward in interest anyway. “Do you think… Do you think Steve’s into girls like that?”

“No,” Robin answers, features twisted like it’s obvious. “He’s into girls like you.”

For the first time ever, you find that slightly hard to believe. Why would Steve ever pick you over someone like her? The way she smiles is pretty. The way she laughs is pretty. Even the way she talks is pretty.

And what do you have? A couple of stupid crayon portraits?

A strange feeling sears your chest when Steve and the pretty girl walk back to the counter. He must’ve told her a joke or something ‘cause she tips back her head to laugh loudly in response. Jealous tears sting your eyes accordingly. You take your art and your box of dull crayons and scurry off to the break room.

“I can help you check out!” Robin offers, suddenly very chipper.

The redhead’s face twists. “Oh. I thought that—”

“Steve’s needed in the breakroom, actually,” Robin tells her when the stranger’s pleading eyes flit to the boy beside her. “I can handle it from here.”

“Wait— What’s in the breakroom?” he wonders obliviously.

“Your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve blinks once. The sudden lack of your presence makes his chest ache. He stalks off to find you without another word.

The redhead, Mia or Maia or whatever, doesn’t bother to disguise the shock painting her dainty features. “Girlfriend?” she echoes, quiet with disbelief.

Robin nods and takes the tapes from her hands, knowing she’s only renting them ‘cause she thought Steve liked them. The scanner beeps as she rings them up. “Yeah. He’s kinda in love with her, turns out. It’s disgusting.”

The conversation fades the further Steve gets down the hall. He opens the door to the back room with a grating squeak. The rusted hinges screech again in protest when he swings it shut behind him. He finds you slouched over the table, vehemently scribbling with vibrantly colored crayons.

He can’t help but smile at the sight of you. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts in place of a greeting, sliding back a chair to sit across from you.

“Nothin’…” you mutter distantly.

Steve folds his arms over the tabletop and rests his chin on top of them. It bobs with every word. “Why’d you leave me, huh?”

You shrug with a faint I don’t know type of sound.

“Can I see what you’re drawing, at least?”

He grins and reaches for you without thinking — because you always let him see. Needless to say, when flinch suddenly away from him, it scares him far more than it should. You scramble to cover the paper with your arms like you’re doing something wrong.

“No,” you answer in a mousy voice.

A chuckle spills from Steve’s mouth. “What? Why? You always show me.”

“It’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid! I love when you draw stuff for me,” the boy insists with a lopsided smile, distantly surprised by your sheepishness. The pretty pink grin slips from his mouth at the crestfallen glint in your eye. He softens without thinking. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did— Did Robin say something?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

You avert your eyes from his prying ones, feeling half-suffocated beneath his honeyed gaze. You start to color again with an absentminded hand, if only to have something else to look at. “You’re just…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. “You’re too pretty.”

He laughs before he means to. “What?”

“You’re pretty, and I don’t like that other people get to look at you,” you confess quietly, coloring in Steve’s hair with the ‘deep golden’ crayon. “It’s not fair— No one else should think you’re as beautiful as I do. I don’t like that.”

Steve props his chin on his palm and hides his grin behind his fingers. He reaches for your busy hand with his free one to get your attention. “Well, you know what?” he starts when your eyes flit up to his. “You’re the only one I want looking at me. So what everyone else thinks doesn’t really matter.”

“It is when they’re drooling all over you,” you answer with a scrunched nose.

Steve can’t help but scoff out a laugh. Those words have Robin Buckley written all over them.

“Last I heard, Rob was giving that girl what for, so… you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he tells you, both to soothe the misplaced jealousy and to make you smile. He thinks it only half works. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You perk up at that. Steve grins and leans in close like he’s about to confess something serious. His dark eyes twinkle with mischief.

“I’m so stupid in love with you that I forget other girls exist sometimes,” he murmurs in true secret-spilling fashion. “And when they’re… drooling all over me? I don’t even see it. ‘Cause all I’m thinking about is how I have my own girl back home. And that I’d much rather have her drooling on me.”

“…Am I the girl?” you press in a tiny voice, just to be sure.

“Yes, baby, I’m talking about you,” Steve chuckles. “You should know that— You’rethe one drooling on my pillow every morning.”

Your nose scrunches sheepishly. “You’ve said that word too many times… It doesn’t sound real anymore.”

“What’s that called again?”

“Semantic satiation,” you answer without missing a beat.

“Well, now I’m gonna tell you I love you ’til you’re semantically satiated,” the boy teases with a knowing squint in his eyes. “‘Cause I love you.”

“Steve.”

“I love you.”

“Stop,” you say, sterner now, though your gaze still glimmers with something soft. Your eyes follow his form when he rises from the table, shifting the short distance to sit in the chair closest to you. “Steve, stop—”

“I love you,” he repeats, anyway, taking you into his arms and smacking a dramatic kiss to your warm cheek. Between each innocuous peck, he mumbles, “I love you— I love you— I love you—”

Steve doesn’t stop kissing you until he hears you giggling again. The pretty sound brightens the dull breakroom. And all he can think about is what a lucky schmuck he is. To get to kiss you and make you laugh forever.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #st drabbles #stevie drabble

2K notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 1 year

Text

Daddy's Home

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you let the d word slip during sex and leon will not let you live it down

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, praise/degradation, spits in her mouth, mention of breeding kink, cums inside, crying during sex

word count: 2.3k

a/n: hi everyone. i wrote this all in one sitting because i was feeling absolutely depraved. i was also a little sleep deprived, so go easy on me. i hope everyone likes this. if you sent me a request, i am working on it, just be patient with me :) anywho, thank you to cooking mama @sleepyluxe for inspiring me to whip this one up. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated. smooches to everyone <3

“Daddy!” you cry out when the tip of Leon’s cock brushes over a sensitive spot deep within you.

He had you pinned on your bed, your legs over his shoulders as he pounded into your throbbing cunt. Your warm skin rubs against his as low grunts rise from his throat in time with his rhythmic thrusts. His arm flexes from his iron grip on the headboard above you. He was so deep in you that you couldn’t think straight. And that’s why that word tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

The second he hears it his eyes open fully, his hips sputter, and he comes to a halt inside of you. Your legs slip down to either side of his waist. He looks down at your blissed-out face, trying to discern if you realized what you had said. He’s shocked at first. Sure, you had always leaned to the submissive side of the bedroom, but you had never expressed an interest to him about anything like that. At first, it shocked him, but he felt a fuse ignite in the pit of his stomach. A cruel smirk grows on his face.

“What did you say?” he asks slowly, letting it sink into your mind what you had let slip.

Your mind, in its foggy state, took a moment to catch up. You rewind the last thirty seconds in your head and humiliation crashes over you in one brutal wave. You feel your face getting hot. You can’t meet his eyes as your brain scrambles to conjure an excuse.

“Nothing,” you say quietly, settling on that as a satisfactory explanation.

He almost laughs, but he didn’t want to be mean. Yet.

“No, sweetheart. Use your words, c’mon. I know you can,” he croons while tilting your face up by your chin. He runs a thumb over your jaw to try and soothe you into sharing.

His eyes lock on yours with an intense gaze, luring out your soul to expose your desires to him.

“I didn’t… I- It’s nothing. I didn’t say anything,” you say, unable to get the word to leave your lips for a second time. His smile grows at your shyness.

“Oh, c’mon babydoll. Don’t you want to be a good girl for Daddy?” he teases with an evil glint in his eyes.

Involuntarily, you flutter around him when he says the magic word, and that makes him chuckle. You bite your lip as his thumb continues running along your jaw. He looks down at you with the gaze of a predator closing in on their prey.

“I thought that’s what you said,” he says, letting go of the headboard and lowering himself closer to your face, “Who knew my angel could be so naughty? My baby who would blush just when I’d hold her hand. Never would have imagined I’d hear her moaning for Daddy. Maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought.”

He places a few soft kisses on your cheek while you squirm, feeling your embarrassment grow. It didn’t help that you could still feel his cock pulsing inside you the entire time.

“If that’s what you like, you could have told me, honey,” he says in between pecks. His voice is gentle, but there is still a hint of mocking, “It makes sense now that I think about it. Always clinging to me, curling up on my lap, just so desperate to be in my arms. You just want Daddy to take care of you, right? Love you and keep you safe? Well, I can do that, baby, but you have to say you want it.”

It felt as if each word he spoke worked away at melting your brain. You felt warmth growing in your chest and spreading out through your limbs. That desire to be held was growing overwhelming. You could feel yourself sinking into that place where only one thing was on your mind. Daddy.

You had never told any of your lovers about this. It made you feel dirty, wrong, perverse. You never thought Leon would go for it which is why you kept it locked away in the deepest, most intimate chamber of your heart. But here he was. Silky locks of brown hair almost covering his eyes, his toned abdomen pressed to yours, and that knowing smile plastered on his face as he egged you on.

“Say it,” he says after your brief silence, “Tell me what you want.”

“I want Daddy,” you whimper out quietly. You feel shame rising in your chest as you voice the thoughts that had bounced around your skull for longer than you could remember. You had thought of him this way since before the first time you had slept together, but you had never said it out loud.

“Speak up, baby. Daddy can’t hear you when you mumble,” he teases before that taunting expression increases, “And be more specific.”

“I want Daddy… I want Daddy to fuck me,” you say with more clarity but the same amount of timidness.

He lets out a cruel laugh. “Listen to my little angel’s mouth. Dirty baby. But I think I can do that for you,” he says before he begins moving his hips again.

You moan softly at the light relief, both physical and mental from him moving on from the topic. Or so you thought.

“Mhm, that’s right. Daddy’s got you, babe. I’m gonna take good care of my girl,” he purrs in your ear.

The low rumble of his voice directly in your ear has your insides on fire. Before you can stop yourself, a pathetic whine escapes you.

“Daddy,” you say as your face tenses and your eyes flutter.

“Daddy’s here, sweetheart. Filling you up so perfect, yeah? Just the way you like,” he mumbles as his hand slides up to grip your throat while rolling his hips against yours.

“Daddy,” you whimper again, your head tilting back against the pillows while you squirm.

“Is that the only word you know, sweet girl?” he mocks, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make sure I fuck you so hard that’ll be the only word that can leave that slutty mouth of yours.”

Your pussy clamps down around him while your arms loop around his shoulders. The need to be close to him was primal. It was innate. You couldn’t ignore it. You whimper and whine as he snaps himself into you over and over while kissing your neck below your ear. He lets out a growl against your neck, causing you to dig your nails into his back in response.

“Harder Daddy,” you mewl.

He presses his forehead against your neck and grunts. Despite his teasing, he was enjoying this just as much as you. His hands fall to your hip and hold so tight you can already feel the bruises.

“Use your manners, princess,” he says, “You’re not the boss. You ask Daddy for what you want and if I feel nice, you’ll get it.”

“Please Daddy. Please harder. Please, need it so bad,” you ramble out immediately. Your nails start to drag down his back, leaving faint red trails in their wake.

“Are you sure? You’re already falling a part for me, and I haven’t even really started yet,” he says.

“I’m sure. Please!” you beg.

“If you’re sure, baby,” he says.

He grants your wish and starts drilling into you at a ruthless speed. Your skin claps against his, both of you starting to work up a sweat. Strained, broken moans fill the room as his cock strokes every possible sweet spot inside of you. You flutter around him as the tension in your belly grows.

“So close already, angel? I thought you could handle it. When did my baby girl become such a needy whore?” he breathes with that same grin, “You can cum whenever you want this time but know that you aren’t done. Not until I’m satisfied.”

You nod as whines and moans rise in your throat. You’re panting and rolling your hips to meet his thrusts. He cages you in on the mattress and works harder to push you over the edge. One of his hands slips between the two of you to thumb your swollen clit.

In no time, you’re spasming and gasping as surges of release course through you. Your eyes roll back and you cry out for Daddy some more.

Leon chuckles. “Yeah, sweetheart, only Daddy can make you cum like this. No one else.”

You again nod mindlessly. You continue cumming, trembling as the high works its way through you. When it should be done, you don’t get to come down. His constant pumping makes that impossible. Your head is syrupy and cloudy. You feel like you’re being dragged along for this ride while still floating in your own little world.

Leon shakes his head and half-laughs, half-moans at your dazed expression. Your glossy eyes and slowed blinking. The little stream of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth that he wipes away with his fingers.

Despite being so fucked out, you still babble incoherently and cling to him like you needed him to live. He positions his face above yours and spits down into your mouth before kissing you lovingly.

“Daddy, ah, oh fuck, Daddy, Daddy,” you start to chant like it’s a prayer when your lips separate. He kisses you hard again, shutting you up momentarily, before pulling back and stroking your hair from your face.

“Did I fuck my baby dumb already? So quick doll, it’s almost pathetic,” he teases, “You wanted this so bad didn’t you? You wanted Daddy to fuck your head clear? Well, I’ll do that. Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself thinking. My pretty girl doesn’t need thoughts. She just needs to be good for daddy.”

You clench around him hard and nod while more noises that once could have been words exit you. You nuzzle your head against the side of his head, taking in the feel and smell of him.

“You’re lucky I love you. I’ll do the thinking for us both. You just have to sit pretty in Daddy’s lap and take his cock,” he grunts, “Though, maybe sometimes I’ll keep you at my feet. You just kneel on the ground between my legs and rest that cute, thoughtless, little head on my thigh. Let me look into those beautiful, empty, eyes staring up at me. If you’re good, you can suck me off.”

It was all so much. His words swirled around your head that was fuzzy with euphoria, each syllable sinking you down into that part of your head that wanted him more than anything. The compartment of your brain that gave you the need to tuck yourself under his arm and cuddle with him. The compartment that gave you the craving for sweet kisses and praise. The compartment that told you all you needed to do was listen to Daddy and be his perfect girl.

Tears start pricking at your eyes and you can’t fight them off in this state. They fall from your eyes and you whimper. You cling to him tighter as he works himself into you over and over. He notices and leans down to kiss a few away.

“Aww, did I make my sweet baby girl cry? Is Daddy being mean to you by teasing?” he coos, “No, it’s not that, is it? My baby just feels so good she can’t take it. She was acting like such a pathetic slut, but deep down you’re still my good girl. My precious little angel who deserves all the love in the world.”

You cry harder and pull him closer so you can bury your face against him. Your tears wet his skin as he he kisses your hairline and rubs a hand up and down your side.

“Good girl. Cry for Daddy, baby. Get all of it out. It just feels so good, doesn’t it? Too much for a sweet thing like you?” he asks.

“Maybe a little,” you whimper against his shoulder.

“Daddy always knows best, little love. You’ll learn that soon enough,” he says with a kiss to your head.

He continues fucking you into the mattress, working himself to that edge. It wasn’t hard to reach with you crying in his ear and mumbling about how much you loved him.

“Not much longer, sweetheart,” he hums as his eyes shut momentarily. He fights off an impending orgasm with a groan before training his eyes back on you, “I’ll let you choose this time. Where do you want Daddy’s cum, baby?”

“Inside,” you answer clearly with no hesitation.

“Inside,” he laughs, “You really want that. Want daddy to breed this little pussy? Get you nice and full. Yeah, that’s what daddy’s girl needs. Need a hot load inside you or you can’t relax.”

He snaps into you harder and keeps a firm hold on you. You feel like you’re cumming again, but you’re not sure when your last release ended so it’s hard to tell. He’s right there. You can feel him pulsing and twitching between your walls.

“Fuck, she needs to be bred. I can tell by how tight you’ve been. Sucking me in the whole time. I’ve already got you trained so well,” he moans.

A few more pumps, and he’s spilling inside you, exploding against your cervix. He’s fingers are digging into your flesh while his hips buck and he growls and whimpers into your neck. His hot and sticky ropes of cum fill you and satiate that urge inside you. For now.

When he’s done, his hips come to a stop. He lazily kisses all over your face and wipes your remaining tears away before gingerly pulling out and flopping down next to you.

Even though, your carnal needs have been fulfilled, you still wanted to be close and touching at all time. You roll over to him and place yourself against his side. You drape your arm across his chest and nuzzle his pectoral muscle.

He pulls you close in return and gives you some small kisses on your head.

“My good girl,” he whispers.

You nod and snuggle closer as he starts rubbing your back. The two of you come down in peace for a little while before he looks down at you and smirks.

“So, Daddy, huh?” he teases.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

6K notes · View notes

yunopouts · 11 months

Text

scream - l. jeno

-> lee jeno x fem reader

-> frat! au, pure smut (jeno lee is one nasty mother fucker in this one y'all)

-> CW: dom! jeno, rough sex(??), choking, edging, a small... TINY (VERY TINY) bit of ass play, protected sex, handjob, overuse of the word fuck, overstim, head god jeno, fingering, spitting, squirting, slight praise, lots of crying (reader), dumbification, marking/biting, scratching, blood, nipple play, gagging, bdj (big dick jeno LMFAOO)

-> a/n: this is my apology for going on such a long break T-T, i'm telling you i didn't even realise it went on for that long. i was checking in every now and then but i feel so bad T-T anyways! I'm back :P this one doesn't have THAT much dialogue, so i hope you guys enjoy the gory details 😁 also i think this is the filthiest, most smutty, smut i've ever fucking written, and i've written a lot... trust me on this.

-> upcoming: dilf! jaehyun next week and maybe another halloween special idk. oh btw, everything has some sort of halloween aspect to it :)) psst! requests are open!!

-> word count: 4.2k!

-> also p.s: idk how to explain the way he's acting in this fic... he's like very sweet and cute when he's kissing, but he's being a bitch when he's fucking and being rough... idk, i hope you understand what I mean. but also, as rough as he maybe, he's very touchy-feely and kissy :D ANYWHO! I present to you, six pages of pure filth!

safe! master list

mature! masterlist

“When you said we’re going to a party, I didn’t know it was a frat party.” Minjeong said as the three of you walked through the door. The house reeked of weed and sweat, all the criteria for a proper frat party, except everyone is in a Halloween costume.

“Girl, where else would the party have been?” Jimin scoffed lightly. She paused in the doorway, looking down at her phone before she sighed. “Apparently Sungchan’s waiting for me in the living room, I’ll see you two later?” Both you and Minjeong nodded, wishing the girl goodbye and watched as she walked away in her cheerleader costume.

Turning to each other, you silently agreed that the first thing you needed was a drink, so you headed off to the kitchen.

“I forgot to tell you how hot you look in that outfit.” She said in your ear, loud enough for you to hear over the music, and you gave her a smile while you poured yourself a drink.

“So do you,” you whistled as you looked her up and down, the way the gross boys in movies do when they spot a hot girl.

Together, you looked like an odd pair, seeing as you were dressed up as Jennifer, from Jennifer’s Body, and Minjeong was Little Red Riding Hood. The music thumped through the air as the two of you stood in the crowded kitchen, surrounded by costumed partygoers. The laughter and chatter blended with the bass, creating a symphony of Halloween revelry. Your playful compliment still lingered in the atmosphere, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise chilly, dimly lit room. You took a sip from your drink, the alcohol burning your throat, but your attention was momentarily drawn away from the sensation by something else. From across the room, you spotted a familiar figure, the ever so iconic Ghost Face mask, in the back corner, talking to a boy dressed up as a mummy.

The menacing presence seemed to defy the festive atmosphere, and your eyes were drawn to it as if by some magnetic force. The Ghost Face mask turned slowly in your direction, and even though you couldn't see their face, you felt a shiver race down your spine. It was as though an invisible connection had formed between you and the enigmatic figure, a connection that transcended the costume and the anonymity it provided. There was something magnetic about their presence, something that sparked a potent and unspoken attraction.

For a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes met those hidden behind the Ghost Face mask. Time seemed to stand still as you locked onto each other, and a subtle, unspoken acknowledgment passed between you, like a silent agreement in the midst of the raucous party. Your heart quickened, and the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that charged moment.

Feeling a surge of heat and anticipation, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the enigmatic figure and turned back to Minjeong, who had been watching the silent exchange with keen interest. She met your eyes, and the shared understanding between you two was palpable. “You saw him too, didn’t you.” Minjeong said in a way that had her sounding winded. With a knowing smile and another sip of your drink, you and Minjeong silently toasted to the unspoken intrigue that had captured your attention.

As the night continued, the magnetic pull you felt towards the Ghost Face figure in the corner didn't wane. It was like an invisible thread connected the two of you, and despite the ongoing revelry, your attention kept drifting back to that mysterious presence.

Minjeong, ever perceptive, nudged you and raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Why not go for it?" Encouraged by her silent urging, you decided to take the initiative. Setting down your drink, you nodded toward the Ghost Face figure, indicating your intention to approach.

Minjeong gave you an encouraging thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to navigate the sea of Halloween costumes on your own. You weaved through the dancing crowd, anticipation growing with each step.

As you approached, the mask-wearing figure seemed to sense your approach and turned slightly in your direction. They leaned against the counter with their arms crossed over their chest, waiting for you to arrive. The closer you got, the more you could feel the intensity of the connection between the two of you.

Finally standing face to face, the silence was almost deafening. The mask stared at you, unmoving, but you could sense a palpable tension beneath it. Without exchanging words, you both seemed to understand that this moment was special, a secret shared between you in the midst of chaos.

Slowly, your hand extended, and you reached for the Ghost Face mask. Your fingertips brushed against it, and you felt a rapid heartbeat beneath your touch. The mask gave the slightest nod, and you grasped it, carefully pulling it up.

Beneath the mask, a pair of intense, dark eyes met yours. You were momentarily lost in their depth, captivated by the enigmatic stranger who had held your attention all night. The corners of your lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and a spark of recognition flared in those deep, mysterious eyes.

The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you erupted in a whirlwind of excitement. It was a dance of anticipation and curiosity, an unspoken agreement that you had both been waiting for this moment. And even though the music continued to thump, and the crowd continued to revel, for that brief, electric moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent, thrilling connection.

You told him your name when he asked for it, and he introduced himself as ‘Jeno’.

“You wanna take this upstairs?” he asked with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You sucked in a breath and nodded before he pulled the mask back down and took your hand in his to lead the way through the crowd.

The staircase was crowded with a few people, Minjeong included. You spotted her talking to a girl in fairy costume and when you caught her eye, she gave you a grin, wider than you’ve ever seen.

Every now and then, Jeno’s leather gloved hand would lightly squeeze yours as you climbed up the stairs. You held on a little tighter each time, but before you knew it, you were standing in front of a room with a big ‘JN’ poster hanging in the middle.

The boy opened the door for you and let you enter first before entering himself. The door clicked shut behind you as you sat down on the bed, your eyes locked on Jeno's every move. With a seductive confidence, he slowly peeled off the Ghost Face mask, revealing a mischievous smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

As he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, you sucked in a breath in response to the sensual tension that crackled between you. His gloved hands, still gripping the mask, dropped to his sides, and he advanced with a slow, deliberate purpose. The room was drowning in desire, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from him.

Jeno moved in until he was standing directly in front of you. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself unable to resist as he placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. The touch was electrifying, and you leaned into it, your eyes closing as you savored the sensation. You reached up slowly and pulled his hands away, suddenly regretting it, but you went on with pulling the leather gloves off, exposing a set of large, veiny hands.

Kicking off your shoes, you moved to the top of his bed and watched as he concentrated on your every move with dark eyes. In a flash, Jeno had pulled off the cloak, leaving his chest exposed and him only in his jeans. It felt like you were freezing without his touch on you, but soon enough, he was in front of you, inspecting your face before his eyes ultimately landed on your lips that were stained red from makeup.

His lips rushed to meet yours in a tantalising kiss, a soft exploration that soon deepened into a passionate melding of mouths. The taste of him was intoxicating, and your tongues danced in a heated rhythm, exchanging breathless sighs and moans. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against yours, sent a rush of heat through your body. It was amazing.

His hands travelled from your face, down to your waist and they pulled you to meet his body. Jeno groaned into the kiss from all the friction caused by his chest rubbing against your sweater, making his nipples hard and sensitive.

While your arms wrap around his neck, Jeno’s hips dig into yours, creating a tent in his pants. It’s hard and uncomfortable but the pressure it’s putting on your cunt is to die for, so you grind… hard. Jeno moans your name while his hands tug at your jeans so aggressively you thought he would tear them if he continued. After blindly messing around with your pants, Jeno popped the button open and pulled down your jeans, exposing the lacy underwear you had on.

You whined as he pulled away from your lips but you shut up quicker than ever when you noticed how he was staring at your pussy. He looked hungry.

He looked like he was starving.

And starving, he was.

Jeno practically tore off your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him, before he dove into you. His tongue pressed flat against your pussy, licking a stripe up, the muscle’s warmth and making you moan softly. His nose poked at your clit as his tongue toyed with your hole. He lapped at your folds, making sure no spot was left untouched by his tongue. Jeno loved the way you tasted; you had the best pussy he’s ever eaten, he felt like he could spend all day eating you out, and he’d never get tired of it.

Jeno pulled away for a second to put his middle finger in his mouth, coating it in saliva before pressing it to your entrance. A hum escaped your lips as his thick digit slowly pulsed in and out of you as your hands worked to take off your sweater and shirt. Soon, one finger became two, and Jeno went back to eating you out. Your moans were driving him crazy; they were making it hard focus on your clit because his cock was so fucking hard. The hand he had pressed on your lower abdomen moved down to his button, undoing it and moving the zipper down far enough for him to get his dick out.

As he rubbed his cock, Jeno’s teeth grazed your clit before his lips latched on to it, sucking forcefully. With that, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start to form. As your moans quickened, the pace of Jeno’s fingers grew faster, and he sucked harder on your clit– if it were even possible. He loved the way you were tightening around his fingers, like you were trying to keep them inside you, wanting them absorb your juices.

“Fuck, Jeno…” you gasped, fingers tugging at his dark, messy hair. “God, I’m so close.”

Your eyes squeezed shut right as you were about to cum, but you never did. You felt so high, but now you dropped back down to zero, and you were empty and cold. Opening your eyes, you saw Jeno looking down at you with a smug expression. He leaned down and kissed you softly, which allowed you to taste yourself off his tongue, the somewhat sweet taste filling your mouth.

Reaching down, you felt for his cock, and began stroking when you found it. He was girthier than other guys you’ve had sex with, and he had a slight curve upwards, but my god was he long. You didn’t know if he would fit, but there was nothing you wouldn’t try.

Jeno moaned as he kissed you, the feeling of your warm hands rubbing him up and down forced him to thrust at the pace you were moving at. He pulled back from your lips to drop his head into the crook of your neck, marking and panting against the soft skin. Behind the shell of your ear, he wet a small spot with saliva before he kissed it softly, and he did the same to a few other spots. He sucked on your skin until it bruised while he moved down to the curve of your neck. Jeno’s hot tongue laid against your skin once again before he closed his teeth around it.

You jerked his cock harder as the boy continued to bite into different spots until his husky voice whispered a demand.

“Stop.” Jeno told you.

You did as you were told, but you kept your fingers trailing up and down his shaft as he kissed back up your neck, to your lips.

“Gimme two seconds.” he said against your lips with a smile. You kissed him quickly before he got up, which made him chuckle.

You watched as he got up, cock out and everything, which made you smile a bit. Jeno slid off his remaining clothes and tossed them in what presumed to be a laundry bin, and opened a drawer of his dresser, only to pull out something wrapped in a gold foil.

Oh…

Not one;

Not two;

Or three;

But six.

Jeno pulled out a strand of six condoms before he turned back to you. “Just in case.” he smiled innocently, even though he absolutely was not. He tore one from the line and ripped the top off with his teeth before he handed you the open package.

“Only six?” you asked in attempt to make a joke out of the pain you’re going to be in tomorrow.

Jeno chuckled as he shrugged while you took the condom and rolled it on to his cock. “We can use the whole pack if you want, it’s new.”

And that was that, seeing as Jeno grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. His tongue eagerly explored your mouth once again, grazing your own tongue and cheeks before he pulled away. A string of your mixed saliva hung like a teather from your mouth to his.

“Turn over for me, won’t you?” you nodded in a daze and turned so that your face was in the pillows. “Good girl,” he said, his cool hands grazing down your back, sliding all the way down to your ass. He spread your cheeks far enough apart to see everything, and you swore you heard evil laughter coming from somewhere.

What you thought was going to come, did not, in fact, come. Instead, you were surprised to feel a warm glob of spit fall on to your ass and how it trailed down to your pussy. Jeno leaned down and licked one long stripe, starting from your clit and ending at your ass. His tongue poked into your hole, once again, but this time he scisored in and out, the same way he used his fingers earlier. His tongue was warm and soft inside you, but that feeling didn’t last very long.

Jeno pulled his tongue out, subbing it out for his fingers, but instead, he used his tongue on your ass, sending shivers down your spine. He licked at the puckered hole, warming it up a bit as he fucked your pussy with his fingers.

“You doing okay?” he asked, but you were only able to moan out your response. His fingers fucked you faster, his thumb was ruining your clit with friction, your ass was slick with his spit. Everything was happening just as it needed to be for you to cum. “Oh fuck, Jeno, I’m gonna cum.” And this time you did. Jeno’s fingers curled inside you as they fucked you through your orgasm. Your body shook, your pussy was covered in spit and cum. Jeno’s fingers were coated in a mixture of his and your fluids, and he sucked it off like he was eating icing from a cake.

You felt hot and sticky; he hadn’t even fucked you with his cock yet and yet that was the best orgasm you’d ever fucking felt. “Jen… Jeno, I need you.”

The desparity in your voice sent Jeno spiraling and in no time, the fingers in your pussy were gone and his cock was poking at your enterance. He spit into his hand and coated his covered cock in it, even though he doubted he needed it, considering the fact that you were so wet you could drip on to his bed.

With a slow push, Jeno’s cock entered you, but refrained from moving after hearing you gasp. You knew he was going to be big, but you didn’t know he would be that big. He was a length you’d never taken before, so it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but soon enough you were able to build up to a medium pace.

Jeno’s hands snuck up your back to undo the clasp of your bra, exposing your breasts. Jeno firmly gripped your ass, with his thumb prodding at your assshole. You hummed with pleasure as the thick digit dipped into you slightly. With that, along with the pounding from his cock, you were basically in heaven.

“Faster,” you gasped, finally feeling only pleasure as he fucks into you.

Pulling you up by the shoulder, your bra slipped off in an instant, which let Jeno get a proper view of your tits, plump and beautiful. He watched how they jiggled with each thrust, and he grew more and more fond of them. Jeno even switched his grip on you from your shoulder to your neck. His hand gripped you around the base of your throat, just tight enough for there to be a handprint later. Meanwhile, the other snaked down to your pussy, where he drew fast circles on your clit. Jeno’s cock was deep inside your cunt, it filled you to the brim and you were loving every minute of it.

And so was he. The sound of skin slapping on skin, how your pussy fit his cock like a glove, how you moaned his name like you knew it well, how your back was practically glued to his chest. That made him go crazy; that made him fuck you even harder– a more vigurous pace that felt so good it brought you to tears.

Jeno got a hold of one of your nipples, it was hard and practically begging for it to be twisted. You moaned at the feeling and begged for more through your tears, so Jeno’s arms crossed over your stomach, his hands reaching up to play with your nipples some more. He pulled at them until they slipped from his grip, he squeezed them until you begged for mercy. When he shoved two fingers in your mouth, you gagged and yet you could still go further. Jeno pulled his fingers out and covered your tits in your spit.

It didn’t take long for his hips to pick up the pace once he that he was about to cum. Your moans grew choppier and choppier as his thrusts became more sharp.

“Shit, baby.” he groaned, his teeth biting down on your ear loab as he came. Your breaths were ragged in the moments of his orgasm, but you could feel his cock twitch inside you, even with the condom. Your body couldn’t keep up with the speed he was going at and soon enough you were shaking in his arms for a second time, cumming with him.

When Jeno pulled out, your head lolled backwards and you eyed him with a smile. Jeno kissed your temple and whispered his next words into your skin.

“On to the second condom, then?” You each laughed at his comment and Jeno wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly as he shook with laughter.

The boy helped you off of him before getting off the bed again to switch condoms. The exchange was quick and before you knew it, Jeno was hovering above of you once more, staring down at you like you were his prey. This predatory look formed a pit in your stomach, but the good kind.

Jeno’s eyes scanned you from head to toe.

Your body glistened with sweat, collarbones and throat covered with markings of all kinds, your nipples were puffy and wet, and your pussy was swollen and slick with juices. Everything looked delectable; you looked delectable and he was so tempted to consume it all.

The boy picked up one of your legs and propped it over his shoulder and placed his tip at your entrance. He bottomed out smoothly, and this time you seemed to be able to handle his length much better. Your head sunk into the pillows as you let out a sigh.

You watched how Jeno’s eyes closed when he felt your cunt wrap around him with his head falling back with pleasure. “Feels so good.” he groaned into the air, his jaw hanging open slightly as he continued to thrust. His head turned to the side and he brought your calf closer to his mouth, littering it with harsh bites and soft kisses.

Biting your lip, you reached your arm out, silently asking for him to come closer to you, to which he accepted. Setting your leg down, Jeno placed his arms on either side of your head, his face now just centimetres away from yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you wanted to keep the eye contact, so you mustered up the courage to look into his swirling orbs. In his eyes were a mix of emotions, ones that were unrecognisable to you, but you liked it. Tilting your head up slightly, you pecked his bottom lip lightly, which earned you a grin from Jeno. It grew wider when you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him in even closer to you. He hummed and kissed you back forcefully as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you sharply.

The tears that ran from your eyes down your cheeks seemed to motivate Jeno. Before, he could only hear your sobs, but seeing you cry switched something inside him. It made him want to fuck you harder, just to see you cry even harder. You looked so pretty, with your makeup all messy and tears running down your face. He loved it.

So he fucked you harder, and so you cried harder, you moaned louder, and you pawed at his back. His skin was under your nails, he could feel how they cut into him the harder he thrust. You were driving him fucking insane.

Jeno leaned his forehead on to yours as he moaned out sweet nothings. “I fucking love your pussy, fuck.” he cursed. His words made you tighten around his cock, which only made him groan louder, but it was like music to your ears. He felt like your pussy was sucking him in the way it would constrict when he fucked into you.

“Jeno, please,” you whimpered, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Fuck, Jeno, you’re so fucking good.” you repeated your words as you whined out to him.

His words made your insides flutter, his movements made your heart race and your breaths quicker. Everything felt so good you could barely moan out words anymore.

He was fucking you dumb and silly. You were nothing but drawn out exclamations and tears. You were so sensitive, and yet you didn’t even want to tell him to stop.

It was just too good to stop.

So he kept fucking you, and he kept filling you, over, and over, and over again until you felt it. “Jen… Jeno, fuck, I’m cumming.” Suddenly, Jeno pulled out again, the same way he did earlier, but this time, he crawled between your legs again, fingering you until you came while jerking himself off. This one hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank and no words could even come out of your mouth. Jeno couldn’t even register what happened until he felt a wet substance leak on to his sheet.

He couldn’t fucking believe it.

His mouth latched on to your squirting cunt almsot immediately, drinking in your juices like it was water. Some liquid dripped down his neck as he lapped up the rest that leaked from your pussy, but he never let up. He continued to eat you out so well even after you came, you thought you were going to do it again.

As your hand raked through his dark hair, all it took was one tug at his roots for him to cum. Jeno rode his high by fucking himself into his mattress, and until he was done, he rest in between your thighs.

Slowly making his way up to you, you looked down, only to find that his dick was still hard. “You’re joking, right?”

“How about we finish that pack in a bit, hm?” he grinned, making you scoff.

3K notes · View notes

always-just-red · 19 days

Note

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Ok.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Ok but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

789 notes · View notes

deepestnightcolor · 5 months

Note

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!eader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay.

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?”

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look.

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?”

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?”

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds.

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further.

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #fanfic #smut #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer #harvey x farmer

1K notes · View notes