#and while they start from a seed of something that is mine
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Hello lovely!! I saw your post that you're open to request, can I request a male reader x phainon with breeding kink, you can also add any kinks you want! I adore your writing sm (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) (🤍)
ALL MINE
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★ tws : nsfw / smut, breeding kink, male!reader, orgasm denial/edging, cockwarming, a lil praise, multiple of rounds, degradation, slight dumbfied reader at the end and lots of cum. mdni : 18+ only.
★ sum : you’re are phainon’s precious boy. And he’s gonna fill you up until you’re leaking and begging for more.
★ note : not proofread, I’m too lazy to correct my mistakes.
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You don’t know what you said.
Maybe you called him pretty. Maybe you teased him in that little smug voice you always do, saying something about how he couldn’t last without touching you. Maybe you just looked at him for too long.
Whatever it was, it broke something in Phainon.
His clothes hit the floor. His pants tossed aside with trembling fingers. And now?
You’re on your back, legs trembling around his hips, clawing at the sheets while his cock pulses deep inside you—raw, hot, unrelenting.
“Haaah… ngh—Phainon…”
“Shh. Take it. You can take it.” He growls into your neck, voice deeper, rougher than you’ve ever heard it. “You’re mine, aren’t you? My pretty boy. All fucking mine.”
He thrusts in, hard, like he’s trying to plant his whole soul inside you. You jolt, a broken moan spilling from your lips as he grinds his hips down, refusing to pull out.
“P-Phai—fuck, baby, you’re s-so deep, you’re—”
“Say it,” he snaps. “Say you want me to breed you.”
You whine. He grabs your hips and slams in again, dizzying you with the weight of his cock, his heat, the thick length dragging along all your spots like he knows them by instinct.
“Phainon, I—I want it,” you gasp, arching up against his chest. “Fuck, I want your cum, I want you to fill me, please—”
“There it is.” He kisses you, messy, almost angry with how much he wants you. “You don’t even know how many times I’ve dreamed of this. Of stuffing you full, making sure it takes. Again. And again. Until you can’t think about anything except how full I got you.”
He fucks you with purpose. Long, deliberate thrusts, then a sharp grind that leaves you gasping. You’re clenching around him so tight he groans, head dropping to your shoulder.
“Feel that?” he huffs. “That’s my cock. That’s your lover—ruining you.”
You nod, tears pricking your eyes from the pressure of it all. “Y-Yeah… yeah, ruin me…”
Phainon growls, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t tempt me. I’ll keep you like this. Warm, dripping, so full you forget what it’s like to be empty. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You can’t even speak. Just a nod. Just a wrecked moan.
He reaches down and grips your cock, already leaking. “You’re not allowed to cum yet,” he says sweetly, cruelly. “Not until I’m sure my seed’s in you. Not until you’re bred.”
You cry out, hips bucking—and he pins you down with a firm hand on your stomach.
“Don’t move.”
He starts thrusting harder. Faster. His balls slap your ass with every thrust, lewd, wet, devastating. His cock pulses and you know it’s coming.
Then—
“Fuck—fuck—take it—” he snarls, slamming in and staying there as his cock throbs. And pulses. And pulses.
Hot, thick cum floods into you. Rope after rope. So much it aches. So much it leaks out around the base of his cock, dripping down your thighs, soaking the sheets.
He doesn’t move. Just keeps himself buried to the hilt, panting over your shoulder, muttering how perfect you are, how tight you are, how he’s not done.
You’re still shaking when he pulls your hips up and says with a hungry smirk,
“Let’s make sure it takes.”
Your legs are already shaking—and he hasn’t even let you cum yet.
Phainon’s voice is low, his breath hot against your ear, and his cock is buried deep inside you, pulsing with each heavy grind of his hips.
“Still holding back for me?” he murmurs, smirking against your neck. “Good boy. That’s it. Stay just like that for me, yeah?”
You whimper, your arms trembling from where they’re locked around his shoulders. “P-Phainon, I—please—”
“Please what?” he coos, slowly thrusting in again, so slow it’s maddening. “Please ruin you? Please fill this tight hole up with my cum until you’re leaking all over my cock?”
You gasp—he laughs.
“You like this. You like being stretched and used and stuffed full, don’t you?”
You nod fast, clinging to him as he starts to thrust—real thrusts now, brutal and deep. Every time his hips slam into yours, you feel the slap of his skin, the obscene slick of his cock grinding inside you.
And every time you get close?
He stops.
He fucking stops.
“You’re gonna cum when I say,” he growls, dragging his teeth along your throat. “You wanna be my perfect boy? Then act like it.”
He grips your thighs, pushing them up, folding you until you’re fully exposed under him. His cock hits that spot that makes you sob, and he doesn’t let up—not this time.
You’re panting, leaking, your own cock untouched and twitching.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“Beg for it.”
“I—I wanna cum,” you cry. “Please, baby, please, I’ve been good—!”
“Say what you’re begging for,” he snarls. “Say it.”
“Please fill me up, make me yours—!”
That breaks him.
He thrusts hard, fast, his breath hitching as he pants, “Yeah? You want it? Wanna be stuffed full with all my cum, huh? Wanna walk around dripping, knowing I used you?”
You’re barely able to respond—just moaning, shaking, stars in your eyes—and then he slams in one last time.
His whole body shudders.
“F—fuck—fuck, take it, take it all—” he snarls as he spills everything into you. It’s hot, thick, endless. You feel it flood inside, pooling deep, leaking out before he’s even done.
But he doesn’t pull out.
No.
He stays in.
Presses his hips flush to yours, his cock still twitching inside your soaked hole.
“Shhh… stay like this,” he whispers, kissing your sweaty cheek. “I’m not done yet. I want you cockwarming me while it sinks in.”
You whimper. He hums.
“Such a good boy,” he breathes, voice soft again. “Took me so well. Let me fuck you dumb and fill you up just like you deserve.”
You’re dazed, fucked-out, stuffed to the brim, barely able to hold a thought. Your own orgasm hit somewhere in the middle—maybe more than once—but it’s all a blur now.
Phainon strokes your cheek.
“Don’t worry,” he says, smug. “I’ll clean you up after. After I make sure you’re nice and full.”
And he smiles.
Because you’re his.
And he’s not letting a drop go to waste.
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© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!
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ineloquent-tumbling · 1 month ago
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@cosmogyros I had to pull your tags because yes, this, all of this!!
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carrie brownstein, hunger makes me a modern girl
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sidemari · 6 months ago
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• NSFW Drabbles •
Pairings: Kaeya, Alhaitham, Neuvillete, Childe, Albedo, Kazuha, Dottore, Ayato, Wriosthesley [separately and in this order] x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mature content ahead, so only 18+ are allowed to interact. Read responsibly and enjoy! Forgive me for any mistakes. This is a repost to check my blog's reach on this platform.
Kaeya
Helpless
"Ah, ah… Don't move" His voice was a mere whisper against your neck. Gelid fingers touched the very right places to make you squirm under his touch. You managed to overcome the sensation until his fingers caressed your bundle of nerves with the exactly intensity so a helplessly whimper could leave your lips. "Please… I-" "Be a good girl for me and take it like I please"
One of the ways Kaeya can make his lover helpless is using his powers. The sudden change of temperature always manages to get the most curious reactions out of you. Besides that, showing to his beloved he's the one who decides how, when and where things will happen based on his will is amusing to him. Seeing his baby completely at his mercy, unaware of what will happen next or what will be his next move make the adrenalin run through his veins. That feeling is addictive.
Alhaitham
Breeding kink
His grip around your hips was strong enough to almost leave marks on your skin. His pace wasn't really fast, he took his time savoring the sensations that your already claimed sex gave him every single time he almost got out of you just so he could bury himself inside of you once again. Soft whispers about his deepest fantasies and desires filled the cold air. "Alhaitham…" You barely managed to mumble. How long had you both been there? "Just one more time, love. I need you dripping with my seed" A vulnerable moan left his lips before his movements started faltering. "Do you want that, baby? Do you want to be claimed as mine this filthy way?"
You couldn't form words. His only answer were your whimpers.
"Do you need me to fuck my cum inside your womb? Can your little cunt take it?" His essence was already mixed with yours as your lovemaking marked the sheets.
Was it filthy? Disconcerting? Fuck it, his only goal that night was impregnating you for good.
"Will you be a good partner and bear our child inside your womb?" You assented weakly. "Kiss me like you mean it"
Neuvilette
Breeding kink
You were driving him insane. He needed to have his way with you soon or else it would be his ruin. Controlling his urges was an easy task till the day he saw you for the first time. So innocent, so ready to be his. So pretty, so alluring. You were the only thing that occupied his thoughts the last weeks. Neuvilette finally made the move and now you were finally his, completely bounded.
His eyes didn't leave yours while he kept pounding his cock inside your heat. The sounds you and your bodies made filled the Court of Fontaine's ambience. He knew that was outrageous but something about taking away your innocence in the place he exercised his authority every single day was enough to make him almost arrogant. It was him that was claiming you over and over again at that very salon. Your body was already fragile by the exhaustion but he kept going. He had to. His strong hands managed to support your body as he lifted you from his lap just enough so your hips could meet again. Every single encounter of your heats was enough to send shivers down his spine. His heart only desired one thing that dawn and it was bonding your souls forever with an heir. The only goal crossing his mind was making sure you left that place with his child being formed inside your womb. "I could mark you like this every day if that meant you'd be forever mine" Your hands squeezed his shoulders, earning a moan from his lips. "You like that? You squeeze me every time I say you belong to me and only me" His mouth sucked the skin from your neck so a hickey was now very visible. "Neuvi…" Your orgasm finally happened once again as the sun was now completely raised. He followed you, filling you up completely once again with his essence. You melted against him. His hands caressed the small of your back with delicacy, while soft reassuring words were mumbled against your ear. "You'll be such an angelic mother to our child" But was that even right? You both met not long ago. Little did you know he actually managed to breed you raw that occasion. Still, you suspected that was already happening by the time you kissed him deeply. "Make me yours once again. Claim me the way you always wanted, love"
Childe/Tartaglia
Breeding kink
Coming from a big family himself is only natural that Childe plans to have a family of his own. The only thing that was intriguing was how far he would get in order to make sure you'd be the mother of his children. He would leave the country for a mission that had to deadline to finish and that filled his being with angst. How long would you stay apart? How long will his dream have to wait? You had been trying for a child it's been a while, still that didn't really happen. He kept reassuring you every single time it turned out you weren't pregnant, but it was inevitable that Childe's heart just sank at the possibility of never having his own family. "I'm sorry" You whispered that night. "I just don't know what's wrong with me" "Hey, look at me" His fingers cupped your face. "We'll figure it out together, deal? Just don't feel guilty about any of this" Cleaning your tears with his thumb, he started undressing you with delicacy.
It would be your last night together until heaven knows when you'd be reunited.
He made love to you that night. It wasn't just about sex. It was about tying your souls together while you both tried to conceive a life. The ultimate sign of your love. The proof of your love.
He pulled you to a kiss that lasted as long as it could, only being broken whenever you both needed to breathe properly or when his movements were somewhat harsher. When you parted, your hands caressed his soft hair as you admired him. "What's it, my girl?" He asked before a giggle left his lips. "Do you want me to go harder?" "I just want you so much" His skilled fingers rubbed your sensitive clit while his tongue worked around your nipple. "Fuck… Just like that…" Your back arched when his tip reached the deepest part within you until now as the constant sucking at your nipple made you crumble under him. "Fill me up, please" You begged, as you squeezed your legs around his waist. "Say that again, doll" "Fill me to the brim. I need all of it" "Does my girl need another load of her lover's cum inside of her? Tell me, what does my pretty girl want from me?" "I need you to cum inside of me, don't stop until I'm full of you"
He smiled. He would give you exactly what you wanted.
Once again he finished inside you, filling your walls with his seed. He pounded it into you a few more times as your walls squeezed him. He was still inside of you when you guided his hands to your lower belly, pressing his palm against the discrete bulge his cock created. "I promise when you return, we'll have had our son" He smiled against your lips. "How do you even know it will be a boy? Or if I even managed to knock you up?" "Intuition"
You were right. The next winter was spent with the newest addition of your family: a little copy of his dad.
Albedo
Aftercare, Breeding kink, and "Sadism"
It was snowing when he first met yout. Such a cold day and still you were at Dragonspine. All alone and quiet. You always managed to take care of yourself even in the most dangerous place of the nation. Nothing of the dreads of that biome managed to caught you unprepared. That was the main reason he started paying attention to you whenever he saw your frame from his laboratory.
"Why were you even there that day?" He caressed your wet hair, letting all your worries dissappear for some minutes. "I was looking for some time alone"
The warm water from the bathtub felt like heaven after an entire day at Dragonspine helping the alchemist.
"I see…" He muttered, before getting lost in thoughts once again. "Albedo?" "Yes?" "You're so quiet… Is everything alright?"
His eyes finally met yours after long moments of waiting. "I'm good, yes. Why the question?" "You're different since this afternoon" "That kid seemed to like you" He ignored your statement. "What?" "The lost kid, remember? The one we helped finding their parents at the camp today" "Oh… I think they were just scared. Drogonspine can be terrifying sometimes" "You looked so beautiful carrying him"
He broke the eye contact. But you noticed his gaze getting darker.
"What do you mean by that?" You asked, still afraid of his answer. "I just can't stop imagining you carrying a child of ours, is all. But I guess it's just an ephemeral thought, it'll pass"
It wasn't an ephemeral thought. And it didn't pass for his ruin. Over and over again the only thing that kept taking his focus away was the idea of claiming and breeding you with all of his devotion.
That night he would get what he craved. He needed to get what he wanted.
You said you'd think about trying for a baby and long weeks passed since you promised that. He started getting impatient.
"Bedo, your tea is ready come and-" You said softly before you felt him hugging you from behind. "Clingy, aren’t we?" "Have you made up your mind?" "I did" His eyes lifted to meet yours, searching for the unspoken answer. He pulled you to a kiss that took you a moment to accept. "Finally" He mumbled against your lips. He guided you to your bedroom as fhe tea got cold on the counter.
(…)
You were on all fours as he pounded inside of you mercilessly - almost reaching your cervix with every single thrust of his.
Was that your forth or fifth orgasm? You didn't really know. The only thing that mattered to you was the perfect way your lover was fucking you raw that night.
"T-Too much…" You gasped, unable to stay in the same position for much more. The grip on your hair became strong enough to cause discomfort - a whimper of pain leaving your lips. "Stay on the fucking same position if you still wanna cum tonight" Now both of his hands were on your hips, nails sinking into your skin - causing discomfort and still, you begged for more. "You're so pretty like this… You're taking me so well, my love"
He stopped his movements. "Albedo?" "On your back"
Pining you against the mattress, he started pounding you once again. His tongue swirled around your sensitive nipple while his hips didn’t falter one single time. Leaving your hips for some seconds, his hand went to gather a device from the pocket of his jacket, still it wasn't the time to use it. The constant sucking of your nipples brought tears to your eyes as you struggled to stay present in the moment.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, taking away the hair from your face. "Fuck no… I need to get the most of you"
You weakly guided his hand to your neck. He understood what you wanted. Squeezing your neck enough to see you melt under him, his movements continued. "Harder" You whimpered. He squeezed your neck once again but his grip was way more firm this time. "Say that again" "Fuck me harder" He smiled. "You're perfect"
His thrusts became so vicious you knew you'd be sore in the morning. But still, you ignited a flame within him you didn't regret.
"It hurts…" You gasped when you felt his teeth sank against the soft flesh of your neck. "I'm glad it does"
He was marking you all the ways he could. You'd now carry those marks who would take long days to fade away.
"Do you like when I do these things to you?" You could only weakly agree.
One single touch at that point and you'd be squirming under him. You were so close.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to sink him deeper within you as you both finally finished together.
Uneasy breathing. Sore bodies. Devotion.
"I wish I could stay right here forever" He sighed, before pulling out. Quickly enough to not waste a single drop out of his essence, he put the small plug that once was hidden in his pocket to use.
Collapsing by your side, he pulled you to a kiss, caressing your cheek with him thumb while his hands cupped your face. "Did I went to too far?" You shook your head. "It was probably the best night I've had"
A chuckle left his lips. "Let me check you" The tip of his fingers trailed your skin with delicacy, checking for anything that could cause you discomfort later.
"Those hickeys look like they'll be hurting in the next few days" He touched one of them, noticing how you shivered under his touch. "I'll make sure I'll kiss them better everyday until they're gone" "Does your neck hurt?" He pressed kisses against your neck and collarbones. "No, no at all" "Good"
The knuckles of his fingers caressed your lower belly with love as he looked lost in thoughts. You kissed his forehead. "Already thinking about them?" "Am I so predictable?" "I guess you're sometimes"
Putting his hair behind his ears, you pulled him to another kiss that last longer than before. You thought you were done for the night till you felt his erection against your thigh.
"What about the tea I made?" He smiled. "Forget the tea" He breathed against your lips "Let me love you again, until dawn comes"
Kaedehara Kazuha
Breeding kink, Exhibitionism
The smell of rain was almost fading by the time you both entered the onsen. The sun was almost setting as you both walked through the warm waters. Feeling the stress melt against his touch, you sighed loudly, allowing his firm hands massage your tension away. "I wish we could stay like this forever" He kissed your shoulder. "Let us enjoy the few moments we got alone tonight" His hand traveled to your breasts, squeezing them just so he could get a gasp from you. "Kazu… Here?" "I don't really mind anyone seeing me claiming you under the moon, my muse" You could feel his grin against your nape. "May I?" You consented.
His lips pressed kisses against your shoulders as you took your hair out of the way. His fingers abused both of your nipples with the perfect pressure and movements. You sighed his name when he pulled you against his body, making you feel his erection. "See what you do to me, love?" His fingers opened your mouth. "Suck them"
You did. Just like the way he pleased.
His hand hoovered against the skin of your hips until he finally reached your heat, opening your folds so he could prepare you for him. "Just do it already…" You begged.
He listened something. The same sound as if someone was fuzzing around the sand covered floor.
"I think someone may be watching us" He whispered against your ear. "I'll let them know who you belong to" His hand guided his cock to tease your sex, collecting some of your own essence so he could bury himself into you with ease.
You whimpered. He smiled, knowing that if someone was truly watching you they'd be startled by now.
Setting a fast pace, Kazuha abused your sensitive hole deliciously as you struggled to stay grounded. If it weren't by his strong grip on your waist, you'd be on your knees because of his hard thrusts. "Kazuha-" You gasped as your body jerked with the shock of his hips meeting yours. "Harder"
He wasn't really fond of spanking. But he had to put up a show for the stupid man watching you.
His hand slapped your ass strong enough to make you squirm. Your walls squeezed him harder as precum already painted your insides.
"You like that?" Another slap came. "Do you like when I fuck you like this, my girl?"
You didn't manage to answer. So he stopped his movements abruptly.
"Kazuha?" "Answer me if you wanna cum"
A sinful moan left your lips when his hand gripped your hair. "Say it. Say how you like it and how much you need me fucking you dumb" His thrusts started once again, for heaven's sake. "Fuck… Just l-like that" You gasped. "Fuck me until the only thing I think is you"
It was the first time you both didn't use protection but you or especially him couldn't give a single fuck about it.
It was finally time his deepest fantasies would be fulfilled.
"Do you want me to cum inside of you, uh?" The hair pulling became stronger. "Do you want to feel for once what's like being filled up with cum?" "Fuck yes… Please d-don't stop" "What would people think if they knew their so loved (Name) is begging to receive a creampie?"
He teased you about the thing you cared the most - the reputation of a pure person. Your cheeks got red at the thought. But you couldn't ignore your urges.
"Would you still beg me to breed you? Would you simply ignore people's opinions about how dirty you can be?" "Yes… Yes, if that meant you'd claim me over and over again, marking me whole"
Was the person still watching? He smiled at your devotion.
You both came together. Your legs faltered when your orgasm hit you, but he managed to hold you in place as thick ropes of cum filled your insides.
"Warm…" You mumbled. "How does it feel?" He asked, still thrusting his cum inside you as if he could make his seed reach even deeper within you. "Archons… It feels s-so good"
He pulled out, soon noticing the shadow of someone was still there outside. His lips curled in a smirk. His little show was a success. But the person didn't leave.
You felt some of your mixed essence seeping against your inner thigh right before Kazuha spoke amused; "Oh, you're wasting it. I think I may need to fuck you again" The man guided you to the corner of the onsen, where he laid on the ground. "Come here, allow me to clean you up before I claim you again"
You were always shy about that particular and common invite of his, but his soft gaze reassured you it was alright. He truly meant it.
Positioning your sex right at his mouth, your hands leaned on the sides of his head as he gripped your hips firmly. His warm tongue swirled around your clit as you pressed yourself more against his face.
"Fuck, just like that…" Kazuha moaned when you pulled his hair and guided his head soflty upwards against your heat. "I can never get enough of you" His words were sloppy.
He finished his task with some kisses against your thighs just so he could tease you again.
"So clean and so ready to be ruined again"
You adjusted yourself so your lips were on the same level as his. Pulling him to a kiss, you tasted yours and his own essence on his tongue. It was addicting.
"What if I knocked you up? Ah, f-fuck" He broke the kiss but didn't get to finish his line as you buried himself inside of you once again. "I'd gladly carry our child"
Dottore
Breeding kink, Obsession
The room was torturously cold. As he was writing the results of his latest research, you were nearby curiously watching him. He noticed your gaze way quicker than you expected. "Is something the matter?" He said softly, tapping his lap so you'd stay closer to him. "I'm fine" You mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap. "I'm just cold"
By that time you already knew that following all of his commands was the only thing you could do to save your skin. Show hesitation, resistance or even fear had always awaken something even worse inside of him. Something you weren't willing to deal with that night.
One of his hands caressed your hair as the other finished his notes for the day. "Haven't you got used to the temperature by this time?" He smiled against your forehead. "It's been months since I rescued you"
Rescued.
More like taking you away from your own life.
But why? Why did it feel so right being by his side?
"Take off your clothes, pet" He purred, his eyes challenging you.
Dottore's dark gaze never left yours as you obeyed, removing your shirt and trousers to reveal the frame he was obsessed with. He licked his lips as he looked at you, admiring every curve of your body, the way your nipples were so sensitive to the room's temperature, the blush on your cheeks… Fuck, he could ruin you right now.
You were wet by just looking at him, your body responding to his dominant presence and the anticipation of what was to come. Turning around, you landed gracefully against the bed.
Your eyes locked as he closed the distance between you, stepping onto the sheets. His movements were calculated, confident, hungry.
He reached for you, pulling you close and crushing your lips together, your tongues dancing as they tasted on each other's lips.
You moaned, feeling your whole body light up at his touch.
You could feel his stiff cock pressing against your stomach and your core throbbed with desire. She pushed him away, just enough to look him in the eyes.
You leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I want you to fuck me. I want you to breed me." Your words ignited a primal urge in him. Dottore grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, positioning himself at your entrance. "Are you ready for me, pet?" He asked, his voice husky with desire. "Yes… I'm always ready for you " You breathed, your voice barely audible as you looked into his eyes.
He thrust into you, filling your tight pussy with his thick cock. You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into you, each thrust was harder than the last, leaving you breathless and dizzy with pleasure.
"I can't get enough of you," He grunted, as he continued his movements. Your whole body was shaking with pleasure as he filled you up, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Harder…" You begged, reaching up to grip into his arms. Dottore obliged, ramping up his speed and force until the release was so close you both couldn't postpone it anymore. He painted your insides white, a chuckle leaving his lips. "Perhaps capturing you wasn't a bad idea at all, huh?"
Kamisato Ayato
Foreplay and Teasing
Heading a clan was exhausting. Sometimes it could be terrifying. But he had you, and that meant everything would be okay in the end. He truly believed that.
Ayato pinched his eyebridge in frustration. "Ayato… I can call this meeting over" "It's okay, I think they'll shut up at some point"
Your hand traveled down the table so you could caress his thigh. Your nails were the right lenght to send shivers down his spine while you kept hovering against the fabric of his clothes - going up towards his waist, before almost reaching his knees and swirling patters against his inner thigh. "Love… I-" "Shh, they'll notice something if you change your behavior" You mumbled against his ear.
His was already hard. So little stimulation from you was enough to drive him completely insane.
You squeezed the bulge that ached against his pants and soon your fingers were occupied caressing the exact area of the tip.
You could see some of his tension being washing away and his impatience were switched to retrained uneasiness.
Some other important members of the Tenryou Commission were speaking the most obvious things an Inazuma person could hear. The both of you didn't deserve that.
Ayato faked he was fixing something on his gloves to try and distract himself from the fact your hands were now at the brim of his pants, ready to touch his aching cock.
"May I?" You asked for consent with your gaze. He assented.
He was seeping some tea when your fingers started stimulating his tip. Swallowing hardly, Ayato's just hoped your actions wouldn't be noticed. Using his precum, you managed to make small movements against his shaft just so he could squirm in his place, as if he was adjusting himself against his seat.
"This isn't fair…" He muttered when an agitation rose between the guests of the reunion. "I can't wait to be inside of you" - It sounded almost as a cry. "I can always call the meeting over but I guess you just like being teased" "You're so done when I get to have you"
He managed to keep it cool and fake everything was alright until his orgasm was almost hitting him.
"I think we can discuss the rest later" He said firmly, as you stopped your dirty work and fixed his clothes without earning attention.
"My office?" "Sure, I'll be there"
He was already so ready when you arrived. Completely naked, sat on his armchair. Only with a thin sheet covering him - thin enough so you could see his frame while he stimulated his tip with his index.
Locking the door, you got on your knees.
"Did you plan any of this?" He asked quietly, letting the sheets slip against his body and form a puddle on his feet. "It wasn't like you" "You mean I can't be a tease?" "No. I mean I'm the one who usually teases you. But I'm willing to see more of that"
You licked his tip before taking part of him inside your mouth. "Fuck… Just like that" His hands guided your movements, but you still didn't take him fully in your mouth, instead, you played with his balls while you sucked him the way he pleased. "It may feel so good having you mouth occupied for once, uh?" With that, your hand squeezed hard the part of his cock you couldn't take in your mouth. "Oh fuck… You're so hot like that… Suck me dry, love. Be a good girl for me and let me cum in that mouth"
One of your hands went to your heat. Archons, you were dripping. So ready to take him completely. So ready to be fucked raw inside that office.
His hands pulled your hair up. He was almost there. For once, you took him entirely inside your mouth, fastening your movements. "Cum, master" You said before you licked the precum seeping out of his tip. "I want you to cum inside my mouth"
He did. And you showed your mouth full of his seed to him before swallowing all of it. You licked his cock clean before pressing his tip against your lips in a final kiss.
He was still hard enough to continue. Sitting on his lap, you teased his tip with your folds, wetting his cock just enough to bury itself into you with ease.
"Show me if I did good to you this morning"
Wriosthesley
Offer
He didn't seem to like your presence a single bit, his eyes swallowing you mercilessly as an dissatisfied expression was all over his face. "Do you need anything more, my grace?" You asked quietly, trying to return to your dorm as quickly as possible.
He could be terrifying if he wanted. His presence by itself was already so full of authority you felt your heart race at the thought of possibly irritating him.
"Come closer" He finally spoke. "No need to stay so far away when you're talking to me" You got closer to him awkwardly.
"Anything else I could do for you?"
He chuckled.
"So formal…" He took a sip of his tea. "Could you lock the door?" "I beg your pardon, my grace?" He got out of his place
What was he up to? You obeyed him. Looking at him curiously, you kept silent.
Leaning in to a kiss, he locked the door behind you before pressing your body against the door frame as he gained dominance. "I missed you" He said between kisses. "I thought we wouldn't keep in touch after last time" "Staying away from you would be the ruin of me" His lips pressed against that exact sensitive spot of your neck that always had you squirming under him in those past nights. "Wriosthesley…" You breathed out. "I should go now. It's the best I can do" "Your body says otherwise"
His fingers played with the buttons from your shirt, as if he was testing your fidelity to the promise you made long ago about not mixing work and feelings.
"One last time together and I'll set you free"
What a cunning offer.
"One last time" You whispered, before pulling him to a kiss.
Like a butterfly trapped in a spiderweb, his presence was enough to always pull you towards him.
"Get on your knees," He commanded, his voice dripping with lust as he broke the kiss.
You obeyed, sinking to your knees as you looked up at him. His gaze was full of hunger and dominance, a heady combination that made you even wetter. You reached down and wrapped your hand around his cock, feeling its hardness straining against your soft palm.
You stroked him gently, teasing him as pre-cum dripped from the tip of his cock.
"Fuck, that feels so good," Wriosthesley groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he continued to gently stroke him. "Be a good girl and suck me dry"
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oceantornadoo · 11 months ago
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persephone (simon riley x f!reader) age gap, a bit coercive, dark
it started with fruit.
you were simon riley’s secretary, working for a man clouded in darkness and gold. you’d hear whispers on the street, see pitying faces when you mentioned who you worked for to strangers. to them, he was a cold, hard beast. to you, he was a king.
he started by bringing you fruit, pomegranate seeds and ghost-white pears. small quips about eating healthy now while you were still young enough. ms twenty something meets mr not-yet middle aged, the lines of his face just starting to crease but the beer belly nowhere to be found. he mined diamonds, you heard. he owned cemeteries, said another secretary. they call him ghost, whispered a personal assistant. you didn’t care, didn’t need to when that wasn’t your job.
he had scarred hands, craggly things winding into the cuff of his midnight black suits. didn’t wear a mask but always seemed to be covered in darkness, his face unrecognizable in half lit rooms and empty offices. he always stayed late so you did too, indulging in the extra car he ordered for you, his driver called charon. simon never held long conversations but simply beckoned you, some string in your belly pulling tight at his recognition. at least a third of his day spent with you, murmuring soft nothings, inquiring about your mother and the upcoming winter, the beauty in the death of the trees. “y’ smell like spring, love.” he’d said one morning, and you resolved to wear that same pomegranate spritz indefinitely.
and then it moved to jewels. congratulations on your one year preceded by a tennis bracelet. a trinket of a three headed dog, something small to keep on your desk. the hours draw on later and later, canceled plans with your mother and nymph-like friends piling up like leaves. his touch starts lingering, hard calluses on soft skin.
a hand on your back, guiding you into a conference room. your hair brushing against his torso, the intimacy of it jarring. you twisted your ankle one day, the height of your heels overindulgent. ended up on the couch in his private office, his hands massaging your foot. “like a delicate flower.” he’d murmured, rewarding you with an anklet of diamonds once the pain wore off.
three years in, an invite to his private island. no service, leave your phone at home. sign an nda, we’ll work remote, gone for a month maybe more. pack some nice clothes, maybe a white dress if you’ve got one. take my card if you don’t.
stepping off the helicopter, charon at the helm. you weren’t there against your will but the hairy arm around your waist was heavy, a reminder of the cost you’d paid to visit the underworld. two weeks in and you couldn’t even act surprised when he proposed, on one knee with a glint in his eyes. “you and me, love, against th’ world.”
and if you said yes to the fruit, the diamonds, the care, the attention - saying yes to this was just the next step. an elopement, he’d already drawn up the license - “why wait, dove? y’r so fragile already.” you’re not, have a hidden strength under you, but ghost doesn’t care, ghost takes what he wants, and you, legs spread and eyes soft, are it.
when he fucks you, that’s when it’s settled. cunt dripping on his fingers, his face, his cock. he mutters something about a vasectomy and you’re taking him bare, making eye contact with a ghostlike gardener who walks past the window. your jaw unhinged, drool at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your throat.
“such a good secretary, hm?” and you nod ferociously like the three-headed puppy on your desk. you’ll never work again, too busy with his cock in your mouth or his remote vibrator in your cunt at dinner. the jewels drip into a roar - diamond encrusted toys you’re not sure are entirely safe, bejeweled handcuffs, glittery collars. he’s pluto, the riches of the earth following his orders when he chases you in his private woods. simon’s presence is otherworldly, taking you with the strength of a god as you squirm against his grip. his oldness disgusts you but makes you gush all the same. “gonna be good for daddy?” and you agree vehemently at the king before you, on his knees.
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roseblog-but-evil · 1 month ago
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okay but like im just imagining
im lounging about wearing nothing but my boxers, havent changed them in a few days so they reek. suddenly a big dog runs up to my crotch and starts sniffing. i giggle, embarrassed, and gently try to guide him away. but he won’t budge, and his wet snout pushing at my balls through my boxers starts making me a bit aroused. i really start trying to sit up and close my legs and push him away or something, but he gets his snout under my boxers and right against my asshole and starts licking. this is gross i don’t want this and yet im not making an effort to move, basking in the pleasure of being eaten out by a giant, wet tongue. as his tongue gets deeper and more aggressive, i look down and see his big red cock start to poke out from his sheath, and im ashamed at how i blush. i start getting so hard that my cock peeks through the unbuttoned hole in my boxers. i feel so fucking disgusting and ashamed and should really make more of an effort to get up…but it feels so fucking good. the moral greyness and taboo of it all only serves to arouse me more. fuck im depraved.
then he leaps up on top of me, and i fall back under his weight on my chest. i feel him start to guide his soaking wet tip towards my now sopping hole. fuck okay wait i should really stop this now. but it’s too late, with his weight holding me down i no longer have a choice (but did i even want one?). finally after some clumsy movement he manages to push his tip inside of me, and i start to moan. the dog whimpers right above my head, panting as he frantically tries to push in deeper. his tongue is out, drool and hot air colliding with my face as he continues to rut in and out of me ferally. fuck this feels so fucking good. his massive tip keeps pressing directly into my prostate as his warm fluffy body glides over my now throbbing dick over and over and over. warm jets of hot precum keep shooting inside me as his saggy balls slap against my body, and i feel myself start to get sticky where his body is rubbing. fuck im actually gonna cum from dog dick. i can feel his knot start to inflate and push against me, aching to be let in. im squirming and moaning and panting alongside him now, some of the dog’s drool falling onto my tongue. im too lost in the pleasure of it all to care.
the two of us are wet whimpery messes now, both very clearly close to orgasm. the warmth building in me finally climaxes, and i cum. i shoot out a few warm ropes of cum all over our chests, now getting overstimulated from the continued pounding. i cant even focus on the shame of that orgasm because the dog’s knot finally pushes inside of me and i feel all his movements stop except for his cock. he howls. i feel all the twitches as each massive hot load violates my inner walls, not even able to leak out until the knot deflates. his body then completely collapses onto mine, pressing my cum deeper against my chest. his tongue stays out, falling right into my open mouth. i whimper. this is fucking humiliating.
the two of us lay there stuck together for a while, spent and sticky and satisfied. after an eternity of mutual panting, the dog finally yanks his dick out of me with a loud pop. he trots away happily as i lay there covered in saliva and my own cum. the dog’s own seed now starts leaking from my ass, a large hot puddle forming between my legs. i hate how empty my hole feels now. fuck, everything is so warm. how could that dog violate me like that and then just walk away? he didnt even care about the taboo or the shame or anything, i was just a warm hole to fuck. that thought nearly gets me hard all over again. what is wrong with me?
fuck i need a shower.
(i actually had to pause in the middle of writing this to jerk off and cum all over myself 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 im actually disgusting 🥴)
(also im doing my part to bring more stories of beautiful transgender women getting raped by dogs into the world o7)
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romanofftherealest · 27 days ago
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Bearer Of The Seed
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Summary: Natasha Romanoff was a complex and dangerous woman, unpredictable, impulsive and arrogant—those are the only things you know about her. So the thought of being connected to her through a child was unsettling, to say the least. Yet you knew, as soon as the words of the scripted vows you loathed to say forcefully fell from your lips, there was no turning back.
Pairings: Targaryen Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Word count: 5.1k
Tags | Warnings: +18 HOUSE OF THE DRAGON AU, AMAB!Natasha, Targayen!Natasha, top!Natasha, bottom!r, smut, angst, forced marriage, Natasha plots to make r pregnant while r plots to deceive Natasha, lots of chasing, dubcon, breeding kink, rough sex, bleeding, creampie, fingering, overstimulation & squirting (r receiving)
Author's Note: Scheduled repost
"Father, smith, warrior. Mother, maiden, crone, stranger…"
The words felt like acid on your tongue. Each one stinging you as they leave your lips. You loathed having to say them. You loathed having to agree. This wasn't some love match. It was the voice of a prisoner accepting their fate.
You force yourself to keep your eyes on Natasha, refusing to blink despite the tears forming. You will not cry. Not in her presence. You will not give her that satisfaction. So you try your best to stand tall, to be defiant. Though it's hard when you feel so completely defeated as you said the final words that will seal you both forever.
"I am yours...and you are mine. From this day...until the end of my days."
The last word was hardly out of your mouth when Natasha took a step forward and captured your lips with hers. Natasha's grip on your hips tightens as she pulls you firmly against her. Her lips are rough and insistent as they move against yours. You can feel the tension and desire coursing through her as she claims your mouth in a possessive, greedy kiss.
With what seems like great effort, Natasha breaks the kiss. She takes a step back and you notice a sly smirk slowly appear on his face as she watches you try to catch your breath and you so badly wanted to wipe that on her face. Clearly, she was enjoying the effect she had on you, but you will not make this easy for her.
You will make sure to play this game on your hands, not hers.
"Heirs…"
Hearing your now family bring up the subject of heirs, made you feel a lump form in your throat. It was something you'd tried to avoid thinking about, but you knew it was a reality you would have to face.
Natasha didn't even flinch. She seems confident and unbothered, like she has no concerns in that regard. She responds without missing a beat.
"Oh, we'll have heirs. Plenty of them, in fact."
Natasha's grip on your hands tightens slightly, you force a tight-lipped smile on your face as you struggle to appear calm.
"I will make sure that our marriage bed will not lack heat. We'll have as many children as the Gods see fit to bless us with." She added with such confidence.
You knew that the celebration was coming to an end and you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd—by her. The air felt hot and stifling. Without saying a word, you excused yourself but as you stood Natasha didn't let go of your hand. So you eyed her intently—authoritatively and she immediately released your hand, you didn't miss the flicker of hesitation and fear in her eyes. Her usual confident and authoritative demeanor seemed to be gone for a moment, revealing just the slightest crack in her armor.
As you walked, a small smirk tugged your lips, it gave you a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had the power to affect her in that way. For a brief moment, you felt like you were in control, that you had some bargaining power in this situation.
Of course you do, you will play this game right on your palm, right?
You stepped into the cool night air of the corridors outside, you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you as you thought about the fact that your family had been saved, you realized just how high the cost was. Natasha had saved you from ruin, but the price was steep. You were now the payment, a pawn in a larger game of power and politics. Knowing that you were traded like a piece of livestock in exchange for your family's safety, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
One of the foremost was the fact that you will need to carry the child of someone you didn't really know. Natasha Romanoff was a complex and dangerous woman, unpredictable, impulsive and arrogant—those are the only things you know about her. So the thought of being connected to her through a child was unsettling, to say the least. Yet you knew, as soon as the words of the scripted vows you loathed to say forcefully fell from your lips, there was no turning back.
It is inevitable or perhaps it can be avoided?
You were lost in your own thoughts, worrying about your future, when the maid servant's voice broke your train of thought.
"The celebration is over, your Grace. The King will be expecting you in her chambers."
Her words and the instructions were simple, but they sent a shiver of unease through you. But you wanted to test the waters, you wanted to test who among you holds such power to the both of you.
"Let her know that I am denying her request," you replied coldly as the night breeze.
"But your Gra—"
"Tell her that." you cut her off with a finality, "I'll be at my chambers, I'll retire early for tonight." You added, hinting that if she wished to prove the power she has on you, she will come and show you.
The night slipped away and you opted for the secret chambers that only and your maester, Wanda knew. Inside, you hoped to find solitude and respite from the pressures and chaos of the day. You stayed in the dimly lit room, the only light provided by a few flickering candles, as the night went on. You didn't know whether or not Natasha had come to your original chambers, expecting to find you there.
But you will make sure not surrender yourself, not without a fight.
Natasha was growing increasingly frustrated as she recounted different excuses from the maid servants every time she inquired about you. She hadn't seen you since the night of your wedding, and the more time passed the more suspicious she became.
Another maid servant entered her headquarters and she is for sure to deliver another excuse from you.
"The Queen is not feeling well, your Grace." The maid servant stood before the King, her hands clasped in front of her nervously as she delivered her message.
"What happened? What does the maester say the issue is?" The suspicion that she had in mind is now gone and is replaced by a deep concern for you.
"Well, you Gr—"
"I will go and check on my wife."
"I fear the Queen doesn't want anyone in her chambe—"
"I'm not anyone, I am her King. I am her wife."
Without another word of excuse, she rose from her seat and stalked out of the room. The King wasted no time making her way through the halls of the Keep, her steps were loud as she walked towards your chambers.
The moment Natasha stepped into the chambers, her eyes immediately fell upon your pale form lying in the bed. She was by your side in an instant, her hand reaching out to touch your forehead—and she could feel the heat radiating from you.
"Gods, you're burning up," she muttered, as she took in your sickly appearance. Natasha's eyes darted to the maester as she confirmed that you would be fine in time, and that you had been examined already. "And what is the cause of her sickness?" she questioned, her gaze returning to you.
Wanda cleared her throat, as she darted her eyes on your sleeping form. She breathed, shutting her eyes before she explained the cause of your illness.
"It appears the Queen has fallen ill due to stress and exhaustion," she said with a shaky voice, as she watched Natasha softly caress your body. "And it would be best for her to be left alone for a few days, allowing her body to rest and recover," she added, finally eyeing the King.
"Days?" Natasha repeated as if she didn't hear it clearly.
"Yes…"
Natasha let out a heavy sigh, her mind conflicted. On one hand, she wanted to keep you in her sight and she wanted you to be okay now so she could spend the nights with you fulfilling the obligations of making a long line of heirs. On the other, she knew the maester was likely right about your need for solitude and rest.
"Rest and heal, my sweet. And I will make sure to make up for the night we missed," she said in a soft and gentle tone, only for you to hear as you continued to lie there, your eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep and restful sleep.
"I'll have you full of my seed in no time."
She caressed your face for the last time gently before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
As she withdrew, she turned to the Wanda who was standing just outside the doorway of your chamber.
"Do everything you can to ensure that she is well soon," she instructed.
"Yes, your Grace."
As soon as Natasha left your chambers, you slowly and stealthily got up from the bed where you had been feigning sleep. Your body trembled slightly as you inhaled deep breaths, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You were grateful that your plan had worked, and that Natasha had believed your act of being sick.
Wanda, your trusted maester and ally in your plan, looked at you with a sigh as you got up from the bed.
"I told you hot water and a cloth would do the trick," she said, referring to the method she suggested to fake your elevated temperature.
"I'll have you full of my seed in no time."
"My Grace, are you alright? Are you really sick now? You look pale."
You snapped back to the present, your mind still replaying Natasha's words from earlier when she spoke to you while you were pretending to be in a deep slumber.
"I'm fine," you assured Wanda, your voice a little shaky. "Just a bit…tired, that's all."
Tired of all this.
"Well, I shall leave you alone then, my Grace."
Wanda has been the first person you became close with, and she has been nothing but supportive to cover up for you and your plans. You even heard her lie for you not since a while ago and that was not even a part of your plan. But when the King asked about your condition—your fake condition, she still did with no hesitation.
"Thank you, Wanda."
It had been several days since Natasha's visit, and you had successfully managed to avoid her so far due to your pretense of being sick. Now, you were stepping out into the gardens, seeking a change of scenery and some fresh air pretending to be sick and staying in bed is making you really sick now.
The gardens were a lovely sight, the sun shining brightly and the flowers in full bloom. You strolled along the pathways, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
As you were walking in the garden, relishing the tranquil surroundings, your eyes caught a glimpse of something or rather, someone—in the distance. It was Natasha, standing next to Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm.
Her gaze was fixated on you and you could tell that she was surprised to see you out and about, considering the fact that you were supposed to be unwell. And now, she is making her way over to you.
Your instincts kicked in immediately, and your first thought was to run. Without hesitation, you darted through the gardens, your heart racing as you navigated the twisting and turning paths of the maze.
As you ran, adrenaline pumped through your veins, and you quickened your pace, determined to elude her as long as possible. You were dressed in a gown made of flowing silk, the fabric soft and lightweight against your skin. The hem of the dress brushed against the grass as you ran, occasionally catching on the leaves of the maze bushes. You sprinted through the maze, dodging and weaving between the high walls of greenery. As you continued running through the maze, your heart rate spiked ever higher when you caught a glimpse of Natasha through the gaps in the leaves.
Seeing her so close, so determined to find you, sent another jolt of adrenaline through your body, the fight-or-flight response kicking into high gear.
Although you were aware that she would eventually catch you, you refused to let her have an easy victory. You steeled yourself, determined to play this game in your own hands.
The twists and turns of the maze became your playground. Every time you thought she was closing in, you would change direction, taking unexpected forks that would put some distance between you again.
As you sprinted through the maze, looking back in the direction you last saw Natasha, a sudden body slammed in front of you. The force knocked you off balance, catching you off guard.
A pair of hands locked around your arms, effectively trapping you, preventing any further escape.
"Are you running away from me?"
Natasha's intense gaze was met with your fearful ones, your heart raced and your words came out in a slight stutter. "Y-your Grace…" you started to say, but your mind was too preoccupied with the situation to form a coherent response. You gulped as you looked away, and then replied with a shaky voice. "No, your Grace," you said, your eyes still fixed on the soil where you were standing. Despite your denial, there was undeniable fear in your voice.
"I was expecting that you're still in your chambers, resting. Wanda told me you're still sick."
"I wanted to go out, g-get some fresh air…"
"You should've come to me so I will go out with you."
"I…" you hesitated for a moment, wanting to be careful on how you're going to say the next words, "I wanted to have some time alone, y-your Grace."
Her grip on your arms relaxed slightly as she heard your response. "I haven't had a night alone with you since our wedding, Y/N," she said, she sounded a bit disappointed that made you hitch your breath. "Look at me." She commanded, leaving no room for disobedience. And you slowly did, as your gazes met, her eyes softened with a little fire of an intense desire, and her proximity to you made your heart race even faster.
In a swift and dominating move, Natasha closed the remaining distance between you and claimed your lips in a searing kiss. Natasha sensed your attempts to resist so she deepened the kiss, her tongue demanding entry, as her hands on your arms pulled you even closer to her.
Your resistance was a futile battle and you finally surrendered to her but you fought not to moan as her tongue explored the cavern of your mouth, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. As Natasha moved her attention towards your neck, her lips and tongue trailing along the sensitive skin, you tilted your head back, submitting to her control.
Her lips left your neck as she leaned towards your ear, her words a low, seductive whisper.
"I shall be expecting to see you in my chambers tonight."
The evening had arrived, and Natasha made her way to her chamber, fully expecting to find you there—in her bed in all your glory. However, as she entered the room, her eyes scanned the space, but you were nowhere to be seen. Her initial confusion quickly turned into seething anger as she realized you didn't follow her command.
She wasted no time and stormed through the corridors, her patience wearing thin. It has been far too long, and she is determined to have you, one way or another. Her strides were purposeful and filled with seething anger, her mind set on one mission.
To find you and bring you to her bed.
As soon as she stepped into your chambers, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. She approached the figure lying in the bed, she leaned closer to get a better look of you, and when she dipped her knee to the soft bed, the figure suddenly moved, emitting a piercing scream. Startled, Natasha let out a gasp, quickly realizing it wasn't you but your maid servant.
"Y-your Grace!" The maid servant rushed out apologetically as she immediately threw the thick covers out her body and stood.
"Where is Y/N? Why are you in the Queen's bed?!" Natasha demanded.
"Queen Y/N noticed I-I wasn't feeling well and…well, I am fine but-but the Queen insisted that I am not fine," the maid servant's hands flew in different direction as she tried to explain herself, "and she told me…she insisted that I should rest, right here, in her bed. And she left." The maid servant scrambled, the words coming out in a rush from her lips not wanting to receive the seething anger of the King.
"Forgive me, your Grace…please."
The maid servant's continuous apologies grew quieter as Natasha's attention shifted. Her gaze moved towards the window, where she spotted a figure dashing towards the garden maze. She instantly recognized it was you, and a sly smile tugged at her lips. Ignoring the maid servant, Natasha stepped towards the window of your chambers.
Once again, you found yourself racing through the labyrinthine maze, your breath coming in short gasps as you desperately sought an escape. The twists and turns of the paths seemed to taunt you, creating a confusing web to ensnare you. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, your mind focused on one goal and that is to survive the night without having to spend it on the King's bed.
Natasha's voice echoed through the night, "Making a maid servant sleep in your own bed, just to fool me?"
Despite the gasp that escaped your lips at the sound of Natasha's seething voice, you refused to let it slow you down. Your legs propelled you forward, your bare feet pounding against the cool grass as you continued your race through the maze. There was no time for looking back, only the need to elude her pursuit.
"You were never ill, Y/N!"
As you ran through the maze, the tears of fear started to well up in your eyes, causing you to shut them tightly shut. The emotions coursing through you were overwhelming—fear, defiance, and the weight of the situation hitting you all at once. Yet, amidst it all, a small part of you stubbornly held onto the hope that you could somehow escape Natasha.
Just as you rounded a corner in the maze, a strong body suddenly locked onto you, arms encircling you like a vise grip. Caught off guard, you let out a gasp in surprise, struggling against the strong hold. The realization that Natasha had finally caught you struck you like a bolt of lightning.
"I knew you heard me that time…I never lied when I said I will make sure you're full of my seed."
In a swift and effortless motion, Natasha scooped you up and threw you in her shoulders, her strong grip on your thighs unyielding as she carried you to her chambers. You tried to resist, squirming and fighting against her, but her strength was undeniable. Despite your attempts to break free, it was clear that you had no chance of escape.
The game is no longer in your hands. It never was.
The guards stationed nearby stood at their positions, their eyes averted from the scene. They could only watch as Natasha carried you flailing in her arms, your screams piercing the air. Fear for their own lives kept them in place, knowing full well that they could have their heads off if they bothered to look in your direction.
"Lock the doors!" she barked, her tone leaving no room for questions. The guards obeyed, swiftly securing the chamber doors, sealing you and Natasha inside. Without a moment of hesitation, she hurled you onto her bed, the force of her throw causing you to bounce slightly upon the plush mattress.
"Strip," she commanded in a low voice that made you shiver in fear, "Remove every piece of clothing you wear. I want to see my wife before me in all her naked glory. Do not forget to remove any trinkets or tokens you may be wearing."
Your hands were shaking when you let your dress slip to the floor, revealing your vulnerable form, your body betrays you with gooseflesh. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over and cascading down your cheeks.
Natasha watched, sitting at the bed as you stripped the last piece of clothing out of your body.
Her cold, green orbs leisurely take in every inch of your bare flesh. They linger on the fullness of your breasts, the pebbled peaks begging for her touch. Her gaze trails down to the small, dark mole at the side of your breast, a unique birthmark that she commits to memory. Her eyes continue their languid descent, taking in the slight roundness of your belly soon to be full of her seed, the flare of your hips, and the soft curls at the juncture of your thighs. She studies the glistening evidence of your fear and humiliation, the pink folds of your pussy already swollen and slick.
The shame of your nakedness burns through you like a physical touch, amplified by the fact that Natasha remains fully clothed. Her silken robes and velvet cloak seem to mock your naked form just reminds you of the game that is now holding place in her hands.
A cruel smile plays on Natasha's lips as she sees the shame and fear in your eyes. She rises once more, her tall form towering over you. Her hands go to the sash at her waist, undoing it with deliberate slowness.
The silk slithers to the floor, pooling around her feet. She begins to slowly unlace her leather breeches, her gaze locked with yours. As the garment falls away, revealing her hardened cock, you can't help but gulp, your eyes wide with trepidation.
She stepped closer to you, caressing your cheek. You didn't know why but you leaned in to her touch as she wiped the tears off your face. She looked at your glossy eyes before she leaned forward, her lips pressing against yours in a soft, yet commanding kiss. Your lips part instinctively, allowing her to sweep her tongue inside, claiming your mouth as hers.
"Open wider," she demands, breaking the kiss to gaze down at you. She tilts your head back further, forcing your mouth open wider. She kisses you again, this time her tongue probing deeper, exploring the warmth of your mouth. She sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth and biting down gently.
Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your throat as her kiss becomes more intense. Her hands tangled in your hair and you can't help but moan softly, the sound muffled against her lips.
Natasha broke the kiss and sees the raw innocence in your eyes, the moisture making them glisten like jewels. Your lips are swollen and parted, a thin string of saliva stretching between them, quivering as you suck in ragged breaths. Her gaze darkens with lust and satisfaction.
"My bed has been lacking...heat," she murmurs, her voice low and gravelly. She reaches out, wiping the saliva from your chin with her thumb. "And you, my sweet, are going to warm it tonight."
You took a step backwards and tilt your head to the side to avoid her touch.
"You make it difficult," she says, her voice tight with frustration, "to fulfill the one duty that should be simple. I have conquered cities, bent knees to mine, tamed dragons. And yet, you make it hard for me to plant my seed in your womb."
"Am I just a bearer of your offspring?" you pinched your brows together, finally eyeing the King as the tears cascaded down your face.
"Yes," she replied bluntly, undressing herself, "in this, you are." As her clothing falls away, revealing her breasts and her tanned, muscular body, she meets your gaze squarely. "But know this, my sweet, you are not just any bearer."
"You are my Queen—my own wife who dared to deceive and defy me," she says as she steps forward, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily. "And when I have won, when you carry my child, you will be the mother of my heir."
"And perhaps," she says, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she leans over you, "when this is done, when my line is secured, you will be something more." Her gaze holds yours captive. "But for tonight, you are simply the woman I must breed."
Your heart shatters in your chest as she speaks those words. The cold, hard truth of her intent cuts deep, each word a knife twisting in your soul. You are not her beloved, her equal, but a tool, a vessel to bear her child and you knew it from the beginning.
Without you carrying her offspring, you are nothing.
Natasha then grabs you roughly, flipping you around and throwing you onto the bed. She climbs over you, positioning herself behind your ass.
With a sudden, brutal motion, she thrusts herself inside you, ignoring your cries of pain as she tears through your resisting body. She groans in satisfaction, her hands gripping your hips as she begins to rut into you with merciless force, her dragon's strength overpowering any objections you might have.
"You are mine now," she growls, her breath hot against your ear. "No more defiance, no more resistance. You will bear my child, as is your purpose." Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust, her hips slamming against your ass cheek with brutal intensity.
She pulls out of you suddenly, her thick cock glistening with your virgin blood. Natasha flips you over, pushing your hips in the bed. Her body pressed heavily against yours as she positioned herself between your legs. Without warning, she slams back into you, her dragon-sized cock splitting you open.
You're screaming now, your voice echoing off the walls as she fucks you with brutal, animalistic intensity making your face contort in pleasure mixed with pain.
She moves to silence your screams and releases your mouth long enough to trail her lips down your body, pausing to suckle at each breast roughly, her teeth scraping against your sensitive nipples.
"You are so tight around me, Y/N," she groans, her voice low and possessive. "Your body was made just for my pleasure. Your virgin hole is so snug, clasping around me like a glove. You were made to be filled by me."
Her hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, allowing her to bury herself deeper. As she grinds her hips against yours, she leaned down and your hands immediately clawed at her back, your fingernails digging into her skin.
Her muscled back flexes under your desperate, clawing hands. You feel each ridge of muscle, the hard strength of her. Despite the pain she's causing, despite the brutal taking, your body responds to her, your core clenching around her cock as you feel her powerful body move against yours.
"Y-your…Grace…" you called out for her, mouth open as she tore you apart. You held her neck and the silver locks of her hair, your legs crossed at her waist.
"You're my Queen." She growled in your ear.
"Yes, your Grace!" You cried out in pleasure.
"Then you will take what I give you, you will be painted with my seed and soon enough you'll bear my heir."
Her words made your pussy clench even tighter around her massive cock. She feels it, her thrusts becoming even more powerful as she drives her seed deep into your womb.
She straightens up, her hands gripping your hips as she slams into you one final time. Her body stiffens, her head thrown back in a silent roar as she finds her release. She grinds her hips against yours, ensuring every drop is deep inside you. Then, she pulls out of you slowly, her eyes locked onto your well-stretched opening. She watches as her seed begins to leak out mixing with your virgin blood, a possessive growl rumbling in her chest. Without hesitation, she pushes the escaping seed back inside with her slender fingers.
"My seed stays inside you," she continues to push her fingers inside you, scooping up the white and red liquid, forcing it back into your walls, making sure it's as deep inside you as possible. She repeats this process several times, her fingers pumping in and out of you as she ensures her claim is secure.
The sensation of her fingers pushing into you, combined with the gentle throbbing from her earlier pumps, becomes too much to bear. You can feel yourself growing more and more sensitive, the line between pleasure and pain blurring. You moan, your voice barely a whisper.
"Your Grace...it's too much…"
She ignores your plea, her voice dark as she murmurs, "It's Natasha for you, my sweet." Her fingers continue to push into your overstimulated hole, the motion causing you to convulse around her.
"Natasha…" you stammer, her name tumbling from your lips like a prayer as the intense sensation consumes you. Her name on your lips, filled with such raw emotion, makes her own stomach flutter.
You convulse violently, your body shaking uncontrollably as a gush of liquid spurts out from between your thighs. Natasha muffles her approval against your neck, her voice thick with satisfaction as she feels the evidence of your spend.
"Say it again," she demands, her fingers continuing to pump into you as the aftershocks wrack your body. "Say my name like that again, Y/N." Her own control is slipping, your words affecting Natasha more than she'd like to admit. You whimper, your voice hoarse.
"N-Natasha...Natasha...only...only you…" Each word is punctuated by a sharp breath as your body continues to spasm around her fingers. She lets out a low groan, her head dropping to your shoulder as she listens to you beg for her alone.
"You're so good for me," she praises, her voice rough with desire. She withdraws her fingers from your dripping pussy, bringing them to her mouth to clean them with a hungry suckle. Her eyes never leaving yours as she does so, drinking in the sight of her Queen overcome with pleasure.
"From now on, you will sleep in this same bed as mine so I can ensure that you remain well-bred every night."
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roturo · 11 months ago
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Gojo Satoru who’s beginning to fall in love with his sugar baby!
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Back when you and Gojo first started your arrangement, a mutual understanding existed. Gojo would shower you with gifts, especially exquisite lingerie sets, and you'd model them for him. The ritual became a sort of foreplay for both of you, stoking the flames of desire.
The first time he saw you in those delicate, transparent pink lace pieces, Gojo's eyes bulged with lust. His fingers trailed down your spine, then dipped beneath the waistband of the matching thong. You felt his warm breath on your ear as he whispered, "I need to see your pussy, my sweet sugar.”
You stood there, trembling, as Gojo's experienced hands parted your folds. His thumb flicked your clit, making you moan into his kiss. He slipped a finger into you, silently counting the seconds until you'd beg for his cock. As he rubbed your clit and nipples, Gojo waited impatiently for that moment when you'd plead for him to fuck you. "Tell me, sugar baby," he commanded, voice low and commanding. "How badly do you want my cock inside you right now?"
A few sessions later, Gojo tore off your lingerie without warning, always reassuring you he will buy them again. The lust in his eyes was mixed with frustration, unable to control himself. He ripped the lace from your body, leaving you bared to his pleasure.
The way he tore it off spoke of his obsession, of desire that knew no limit. He couldn't help but let his primal urges take control, leaving behind any pretense of subtlety.
Gojo's hands roamed over your naked flesh, his fingers gripping your hips tightly. "You're mine, aren't you, sugar?" His voice was hoarse, raw with need. Telling things he has never said before.
You nodded, eyes heavy-lidded, your body quivering with anticipation. He pushed you back onto the bed, following you down and positioning himself between your spread legs.
With a deep, guttural growl, he thrust into you without mercy. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, the soft moans escaping your lips. You wrapped your legs around Gojo's waist, urging him on.
The intensity between the two of you was palpable. Gojo's thrusts grew harder, faster, each one driving you closer to the edge. "Come for me, princess," he ordered, each word punctuated by his relentless penetrations.
You felt the heat pooling in your belly, the electric sensation building until it was almost unbearable. "I...I'm close," you panted, your nails digging into his back.
Gojo's thrusts grew more erratic, the control you'd seen before long gone. He slammed into you over and over, the friction making you both sweat. "Let go," he demanded, his voice strained.
And you did, the dam breaking, spasms rocking your body. Your cries filled the room, your body quivering as you clenched around him. Gojo followed suit moments later, groaning as he filled you with his seed.
Panting, he collapsed onto you, his body still inside you. The remnants of your lingerie lay scattered around the room, testament to their newfound intensity. For Gojo, as he laid panting on top of you, his heartbeat slowing, the afterglow of sex washing over you both, he couldn't shake the nagging weird thought from his mind.
He traced your jawline with a fingertip unconsciously while he stared at you, his eyes softening. "Are you alright, my love?" He asked, concern lacing his words.
You smiled up at him, your chest rising and falling with your breath. "I've never been better," you whispered, your thumb tracing circles on his back.
He leaned down and kissed your forehead, his grip on you never faltering. "I'm glad," he said, his voice gruff with emotion.
Later that night, as you slept entangled in each other, a realization crept into Gojo's subconscious. The way he held you, the protective instincts, the worry for your well-being, and the desire to keep you safe stirred something deep within him.
It started as a mere seed, sprouting within the recesses of his mind. Gojo found himself waking up just to ensure you were breathing, his heart swelling at the sight of you.
Days turned into weeks, and the seed began to sprout into a plant. Gojo found himself buying lingerie sets more often, this time not just for the sex, but because he wanted to see you, feel you, he needed you— his fingers trailing over your body when you modeled them for him. He'd pull you into a kiss, the scent of your perfume driving him wild.
One night, he caught himself staring at you as you slept, his chest swelling with affection. The thought lingered, refusing to leave him alone. 'Am I starting to fall in love?' He quickly shook the idea off, grabbing his phone to text another girl to keep his mind off.
Love was a dangerous game, one that could easily lead to complications. Gojo knew that loving you would mean exposing a side of himself he'd tried for years to hide.
A/N: should i turn this into a series?
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lambcultist · 3 months ago
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꒰ ♱ ꒱ alpha!ellie x omega!reader. just needed to write something absolutely filthy, hold on please. omegaverse is a huge guilty pleasure of mine, so please send requests if you like, i'll absolutely deliver. amab!ellie. rut/pre-rut. mentions of knotting. breeding kink. scent kink. mentions of bj, hj, cunnilingus, p in v sex. she fucks one of your stuffed animals sorry. omegaverse. primal instincts. jealousy. she's still a loser. ( 18+, MDNI )
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alpha!ellie who, for the entire week before her rut, is batshit insane. she's normally a fairly progressive and respectful person. she's been a target for bullying since she was small due to her being far from what anyone expects of an alpha. she just doesn't believe in all that strange shit others do—she doesn't need to have any extreme authoritarian ownership of an omega to be confident, she just is. she knows you do not exist for her pleasure, but god, if she doesn't think about how perfect your softness is sometimes, she'd be lying. in pre-rut, it's severe. poor baby turns into the biggest asshole, and she feels so guilty every time.
it's a difficult time for any alpha and you know that, so it doesn't shock you if ellie becomes irritable or angry when her cock has been painfully hard for days. what should surprise you is the extent that her desire goes during this time.
thinking with her dick for a whole week. she can't help it, breeding you is on her mind night and day. stuffing every inch into your cunt and warming herself, making sure her seed takes. but you're on suppressants. shit won't work. it's for a good reason, she knows it when she's rational. pre-rut ellie is not rational in any way, shape, or form. when her nose catches the faintest whiff of your scent her cock rises. she has a practically permanent tent all week—no wonder she cannot be sane about you.
you aren't helpful about it, either. perhaps it's the anticipation of knowing what's coming, or it's just that you are that much of her bitch, but you get aroused at the smallest of things. when ellie raises her voice. when you spot the little patch of precum leaking onto her sweatpants. she can smell you immediately, how your slick pools so desperately.
but you are so good. obediently obeying her every word, sitting on her lap and letting her hump her way to paradise, getting on your knees and parting your lips the moment she brushes her tip against them, wrapping your hand around her dick when she pulls her boxers down. you're so sweet, in taste and scent. ellie will hold you down with her head between your thighs for a solid hour. you're so good at taking everything she offers, and ellie loves it. "so content with me, my sweet girl. got so lucky with you, didn't i?"
appreciative is an understatement when it comes down to it. ellie spends pre-rut worshipping you. she should be worshipping you, especially with you managing to put up with this shit every couple of months.
because it makes her do desperate things. even when you aren't around, she's still haunted by you, your scent, or her memory of the way you feel around her cock. it's like a domino effect, one tiny thought about you leads to another, which leads to her cock twitching, which leads to an angry boner leaking precum like a faucet. if you aren't around, she'll start by doing the sane thing, like trying to jack off. it rarely works, ever. that's when she starts doing things she'll regret later; hunting the laundry hamper for your panties, hugging your clothes while she cums, or that day that she was so desperate she grabbed one of your stuffed animals. you were not pleased to come home to one of your favourite plush friends covered in cum.
not only is she horny and irritable during pre-rut, but ellie is absolutely fucking miserable as well. it makes her so embarrassed. she feels exactly as though she is the loser everyone told her she'd be growing up. not a good enough alpha. she feels outright pathetic for crying when her dick's so hard and you're not home. she becomes insecure. what if there are other alphas out there trying to talk to you? what if they make a move and you accept because they're just better than her? tougher, meaner, honestly, probably taller too. the mere thought makes thick, hot tears brim her eyes. nothing can stop her from pouncing on you the moment you get home, she'll fuck you on the floor if she has to.
she'll do whatever it takes not to feel so much like a loser, but if anything, she just seems even more like one when she's shoving her long cock into you and whimpering. whining into your ear. "mine, you're mine, please, please, please, say you're mine."
but you make it so much better almost instantly. at the end of the day for ellie, it doesn't matter what others think, because you were made for her, and no matter what she does, you'll be babbling 'alpha, alpha' over and over again like a chant.
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🏷️ @absfemme @abbyslvrrr @cowgirlvi @kaykeryyy @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @s0phi3w4lt3n @ellieshothousewife @therealhexstrap @jinxedbambi @heyimrye
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ariestrxsh · 7 months ago
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could you write a blurb of bsf!chris x innocentbsf!reader where she has never had her first kiss, so he teaches her and gets hard because he’s the first to ever teach her. her being the innocent girl she is she asks what’s poking her, so he teaches her that too (with her consent ofc😭)
i apologize in advance if you’ve already written something like this, i love your work by the way <3
Thank you so much. 💖 I hope you like this little bit I wrote for you. 😇
Chris gets hard while showing you how to kiss...
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"It's so embarrassing," you said in a mousy voice as you hid your face, your cheeks turning rosey pink. "Don't be embarrassed, kid," Chris said, nudging your hands away from blocking his view of your flustered expression and giving you a warm smile after you'd admitted to him that you hadn't had your first kiss.
"C'mere. I'm gonna show you how," Chris motioned for you to sit on his lap. "Really? You'd do that for me?" You asked, resting your body weight on his thigh. He nodded. "Okay, don't overthink it. Just move your lips with mine, and put your hands wherever it feels right," he said before placing the edge of his finger under your chin to kiss you.
You felt a magnetic force pulling you in towards your best friend, his soft lips lightly grazing yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, gently caressing yours with his. Your hand wandered towards his chest, and you placed your palm against his heart, feeling its quickening rhythm. He delicately moaned into your mouth, his lips vibrating against your lips.
You felt all the things you were told you'd feel during your first kiss; a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach, a slight buzzing all over your body, and blood rushing to your head. Chris cradled your face in one palm while his other rested on the small of your back, steadying you on his knee, the kiss growing deeper and more passionate the longer it went on.
Suddenly, you pulled away when you felt something poking you in your leg. "What's that?" You asked, glancing down at the bulge in Chris' pants. "I'm sorry, kid. Now I'm the one who's embarrassed," Chris chuckled, his eyes slowly fluttering open from the kiss.
"What is that?" You repeated, your eyes widening as it twitched against the fabric of his sweats. "I can't help it. Kissing you really turns me on," he whispered, pulling you closer and leaning in to close the space between his lips and yours again.
You enjoyed the way it felt to kiss your best friend, but you started to grow a bit frustrated at the fact that he wouldn't tell you what it was. You decided to investigate yourself, your hand slowly moving down his chest into his lap. "Woah. Hey, what are you doing, kid?" Chris giggled, abruptly ending the kiss. "I'm trying to make it stop moving," you innocently told him, rubbing it back and forth and eliciting a soft whimper from Chris.
"Kid, you're making it worse," he hissed as his cock started to stir even more. "Did I hurt you?" You asked, sounding concerned and pulling your hand away. "No, it feels so good," Chris responded, his voice thick with lust. "Keep going," he begged, desire twinkling in his eyes as he placed your hand back in his lap.
"Do it just like you were doing before. Oh, that's it. Good girl," he whispered into your ear as you stroked it for him through the cotton fabric. You didn't know exactly what you were doing, but you knew Chris liked it, and you liked that Chris liked it. "Atta girl. You're doing such a good job," he told you, looking into your eyes and smiling as you started to rub it faster.
You could feel his hardness begin to throb against your palm while he praised you, encouraging you to keep it up. "That's it," he nodded, his glazed over blue eyes still locked on yours as his facial expression began to soften, a few guttural moans passing through his lips. "You're gonna make me cum," he moaned, all the muscles in his cock tightening before he released his seed, leaving behind a big wet spot on his grey sweatpants.
"Is that a good thing?" You innocently asked him, peering down at the mess wide-eyed. He chuckled, still trying to catch his breath and stroking your cheek with his thumb. "It's a very good thing. You were perfect."
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cherryxbooo · 6 months ago
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Most important part of my life
Summary: Pedri's secret relationship is tested by rumors with a new media colleague, leading him to publicly declare his love.
Reader x Pedri
Genre: fluff/angst
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Being in love with Pedri González felt like cradling a secret so luminous, so extraordinary, that unveiling it to the world might scatter its magic like dandelion seeds caught in the wind. (The English literature student in me came up here my bad girlies xx)
It wasn’t just the fact that he was one of the most recognizable footballers in the world, gracing the pitch at Camp Nou with effortless grace.
It was the way he looked at me when we were alone, the quiet strength of his love, and the unspoken promise in his touch.
Our relationship grew like wildflowers in the shadows, away from the glaring lights of stadiums, the endless buzz of fans, and the relentless click of cameras desperate for a glimpse of his personal life.
When we first started dating, the decision to keep things private was mutual, though it came with layers of complexity.
Pedri had been upfront from the beginning.
"I want you to feel safe with me," he said one evening, his brown eyes searching mine for reassurance.
He wasn’t just asking for patience, he was offering me trust, a sanctuary in a world that rarely afforded him the same.
The privacy was liberating in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
We could wander hand-in-hand through unfamiliar streets in cities where Pedri’s face wasn’t plastered on billboards.
We could spend entire evenings tangled up on the couch watching old movies, his laughter filling the room as I teased him about his terrible popcorn-making skills.
In those quiet, unguarded moments, I discovered who he truly was, not just Pedri the footballer, but Pedri the person I fell in love with.
Still, keeping our love a secret wasn’t without its sacrifices.
There were nights when I longed to post a picture of us on social media, to scream to the world how much he meant to me.
But I knew the cost of such exposure.
Pedri’s life was a constant whirlwind of matches, media obligations, and the ceaseless adoration of fans who believed they knew him intimately.
I’d seen the toll it took on him, how even the smallest misstep could spark a wildfire of speculation.
Sometimes, being in love with him felt like standing at the edge of an untamed sea. His life was the tide, vast and unstoppable, threatening to pull me under if I wasn’t careful.
I remember one particularly tough evening when he was away on a grueling road trip, the distance between us amplified by the silence of my apartment.
I stared at my phone, scrolling through a sea of articles about him, wondering if I’d ever fit into his world.
But Pedri always had a way of grounding me.
He called late that night, his voice warm despite the exhaustion that laced his words.
"I miss you," he said simply. "You’re my calm, mi amor. Don’t forget that."
It wasn’t a grand declaration, it didn’t need to be.
It was enough to pull me back, to remind me that what we had wasn’t just a fleeting romance but something deeper, something worth navigating the storms for.
We had our own rituals, ways of carving out space for us amid the chaos.
Pedri loved to write little notes for me, tucking them in places he knew I’d find later: a pocket in my coat, the inside of a book I was reading.
Once, I found one on my bathroom mirror that simply said, "You’re my favorite part of every day."
It was these small acts of love, these intimate gestures, that made me feel like the luckiest person alive.
Who would've thought that footballers could be so romantic.
And yet, there were challenges I couldn’t ignore.
Being with Pedri meant learning to share him, not just with the fans who adored him, but with the game that consumed so much of his time and energy.
There were moments when I felt like a spectator, watching him shine while I stood in the shadows.
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting sometimes, but then he’d find ways to remind me that I wasn’t an afterthought.
One evening, after a particularly intense match, we sat on his balcony overlooking the city.
The air was cool, the distant hum of Barcelona serving as our soundtrack.
Pedri reached for my hand and pulled me close.
"You know," he said softly, "everything I do out there, it’s for us. For this."
His words settled over me like a warm blanket, and in that moment, I knew that no amount of distance, scrutiny, or secrecy could diminish what we shared.
But that feeling didn't last for long...
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It all began when FC Barcelona announced their newest hire, Valentina.
She was young, vibrant, and clearly eager to make her mark as the team’s new media coordinator.
Her job was to handle interviews, create social media content, and give fans a closer look at the players they adored.
At first, I didn’t think much of it.
Pedri had mentioned her in passing, a new addition to the team, someone he was helping adjust to the job.
I’d nodded, smiled, and asked a few polite questions, not giving it another thought.
But then the content started appearing.
At first, I convinced myself it didn’t matter.
Pedri was just being himself, kind, warm, and approachable.
It was part of what made him so magnetic, not just to me but to everyone around him.
This was the man I fell in love with, after all.
How could I fault him for being the very person who stole my heart?
But as the days turned into weeks and the “shipping” online intensified, I felt my confidence begin to waver.
It started subtly, like a shadow creeping into the edges of an otherwise sunny day.
A fan edit of Pedri and Valentina laughing during an interview would pop up on my feed, the caption declaring,
“The chemistry is undeniable!”
I’d roll my eyes and scroll past, telling myself it was harmless.
But the comments below were relentless.
"They’d be such a cute couple!""Honestly, Valentina and Pedri give me life!""Look at the way he’s smiling at her, come on, that’s love."
I’d catch myself staring at my screen, rereading the same comments as if the sting would lessen with repetition.
It didn’t.
Instead, it gnawed at me, a quiet whisper in the back of my mind that grew louder with every passing day.
The first time Pedri showed me one of the videos, I forced a smile, feigning indifference.
“Look at this,” he chuckled, holding up his phone.
“They’re making compilations of every time I’ve talked to the new media girl. Fans are wild.” (brother can't be this clueless omd)
I leaned over, barely glancing at the screen, and shrugged.
“Yeah, wild,” I muttered, keeping my tone neutral.
“You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to look at me.
“Of course,” I lied, standing up abruptly.
“I just remembered I need to finish something. Be right back.”
I didn’t meet his eyes as I left the room.
How could he not see the true intentions behind those edits? (ugh men smh)
The little things began piling up.
Each new fan theory, each edited clip, felt like a pebble being dropped into an already overflowing jar.
I told myself it was silly, irrational even, to feel this way.
After all, I knew the truth. Pedri loved me, not her.
But logic and emotions rarely danced in harmony.
It wasn’t just online, either.
At a recent game, a group of fans behind me had spent the entire first half discussing Valentina and Pedri.
“They’d be perfect together, don’t you think?” “She’s got that bubbly personality, and he’s so down-to-earth. Total power couple vibes.”
I gripped the edge of my seat tightly, my nails digging into the fabric. I wanted to turn around and scream,
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
Instead, I stayed quiet, plastering on a strained smile for the rest of the match.
Back home, my silence began to speak louder than my words.
“Hey, how was your day?” Pedri asked one evening as we sat at the dinner table.
“Fine,” I replied, not looking up from my plate.
“Anything interesting happen?” he pressed, his tone light but curious.
“Not really,” I mumbled, shoving a forkful of pasta into my mouth to avoid elaborating.
Pedri frowned, setting down his fork.
“You’ve been quiet lately. Is something bothering you?”
I shook my head, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
“Just tired. Long day.”
He nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push further.
Instead, he reached across the table to take my hand.
For a split second, I felt the warmth of his touch, the comfort it usually brought me.
But then I pulled away under the pretense of needing my water glass.
The hurt that flickered across his face was brief, but I saw it.
My chest tightened with guilt, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain.
One evening, the tension between us became unbearable.
We were sitting on the couch, a movie playing on the TV, but neither of us was paying attention.
Pedri’s hand rested on his thigh, close enough to mine that the absence of contact felt glaring.
Without warning, he paused the movie and turned to me.
“Alright, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.
I stiffened, my heart pounding. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been distant,” he said, his brows knitting together.
“You barely talk to me, you pull away when I touch you… something’s wrong.”
“It’s nothing,”
I replied too quickly, the tightness in my throat betraying me.
“It’s not nothing,” he countered, leaning closer.
“I know you, amor. Something’s bothering you, and I want to help. But I can’t if you won’t talk to me.”
I looked away, my gaze fixed on the coffee table.
“It’s stupid,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“Then let me decide that,” he urged gently.
“Please.”
I hesitated, the words caught in my throat.
How could I explain something that felt so petty?
How could I tell him that seeing him with Valentina, innocent as it was, was eating away at me?
“I’m just tired,” I said finally, standing up before he could press further.
“I’m going to bed.”
“Wait—”
But I was already walking away, leaving him sitting there, confused and worried.
In the quiet of my room, I replayed the moment in my mind, hating myself for the walls I was building.
But as I scrolled through my phone later that night, another video of Pedri and Valentina popped up.
The comments filled with speculation and admiration for their supposed connection.
I turned off my phone, buried my face in my hands, and let the tears fall.
Not knowing it was about to become worse.
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The next evening,
It started like any other evening.
I was curled up on the couch, scrolling through my phone, half-distracted and trying not to think too much about the growing distance between Pedri and me.
But then the headline caught my eye, bold and damning:
“Are Pedri and Valentina More Than Colleagues? Here’s What We Know.”
My thumb hesitated above the screen, my heart already sinking, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I clicked.
The page loaded, and my stomach twisted with every word I read. The article was a masterclass in speculation.
Blurry photos of Pedri and Valentina laughing together accompanied captions like,
“Too much chemistry to be just friends?”
A still from a video of her hand casually resting on his arm had the writer waxing poetic about
“intimate body language” and “the undeniable proof of a budding romance.”
Every word felt like a small dagger, but it was the comments that truly gutted me.
"I knew it! They’re perfect together!""Pedri deserves someone like her. She’s stunning and sweet!""Finally, the couple we’ve all been waiting for. #Pedritina"
My hands trembled as I set my phone down, but the damage was done.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
It didn’t matter that I knew the truth.
It didn’t matter that Pedri had never given me a reason to doubt him.
The narrative was there, glaring and insistent, and it felt like it was pulling him away from me, like I was losing him to a story that wasn’t even real.
That night, I couldn’t bear to look at him.
The weight of my emotions was too heavy, threatening to spill over if I let him get too close.
“Hey,” he greeted me warmly as he walked into the kitchen, where I was furiously scrubbing an already-clean countertop.
“What are you up to?”
“Just cleaning,” I said curtly, not turning to face him.
Pedri leaned against the counter, his eyes following my frantic movements.
“It’s nine at night,” he said with a soft laugh.
“The kitchen’s spotless mi amor. Come sit with me.”
“I’ll be there in a bit,” I replied, my voice clipped.
He frowned slightly, stepping closer.
“You’ve been… acting different lately. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied, still not meeting his gaze.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice gentler now.
He reached out to touch my arm, but I stepped away, pretending to grab a dish towel.
“I’m sure,” I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for further questions.
Pedri watched me for a long moment, his brow furrowing in concern.
“Alright,” he said quietly, though his voice carried a hint of defeat.
“I’m here if you want to talk.”
I nodded but didn’t respond, and he left the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the unbearable ache in my chest.
I threw myself into meaningless tasks for the rest of the evening.
Folding laundry, reorganizing the spice cabinet, rearranging the books on the shelf, anything to keep my mind and hands busy.
But no matter what I did, the article and its comments haunted me, looping endlessly in my mind.
What made it worse was how vividly I could picture it all.
Pedri’s laughter as Valentina joked with him, the way he always leaned in when someone spoke, giving them his undivided attention.
I knew it was innocent.
I knew it was just who he was.
But knowing didn’t stop the jealousy and insecurity from creeping in, filling the cracks in my resolve.
By the time Pedri came to bed, I pretended to be asleep, my back turned to him.
He sighed softly as he slipped under the covers, and for a moment, I thought he might say something.
But he didn’t.
Instead, the room fell into silence, broken only by the sound of his breathing as he drifted off.
I stayed awake long after, staring at the wall, tears slipping silently down my face.
For the first time in our relationship, I felt like I was losing him.
And the worst part? I didn’t know how to stop it.
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The next day,
Meanwhile, Pedri was wrestling with his own frustrations.
The training session had wrapped up, but instead of heading to the showers with the others, he lingered in the locker room, sitting on the bench with his phone in hand.
His thumb hovered over the screen, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the strange tension between you two over the past few weeks.
Every clipped response, every missed kiss, every moment you pulled away lingered in his thoughts, gnawing at him.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Yo, Pedri,” Ferran’s voice broke through the quiet, light and teasing as always.
He strolled in, a towel slung casually over his shoulder.
“Why do you look like someone stole your boots? You alright?”
Pedri looked up, his frown deepening.
“Not really,” he admitted, tossing his phone onto the bench beside him.
“It’s… Y/n. She’s been acting different. Distant.” He shook his head, as though trying to shake off the confusion.
“I don’t know what’s going on with her. I’ve tried asking, but she keeps saying she’s fine.”
Ferran raised a brow, a knowing look spreading across his face.
“Different how?”
“She barely talks to me anymore,” Pedri said, frustration clear in his voice.
“When we’re together, it’s like she’s somewhere else. I don’t even know what I did wrong.”
Ferran leaned against the locker, crossing his arms.
“You sure it’s something you did?”
“I don’t know,” Pedri muttered.
“Maybe? She’s never been like this before.”
Ferran hummed thoughtfully before his eyes lit up as if a lightbulb had gone off.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and began typing something.
“What are you doing?” Pedri asked, sitting up straighter.
Ferran didn’t answer immediately, his focus on his screen.
Then he turned the phone around, holding it out for Pedri to see.
“You seen this yet?” Ferran asked, his tone cautious but pointed.
Pedri frowned and leaned closer, his gaze locking onto the screen.
It was an article, the bold headline instantly grabbing his attention:
“Are Pedri and Valentina More Than Colleagues? Here’s What We Know.”
“What is this?” Pedri asked, his tone sharp.
“Just read it,” Ferran said, handing him the phone.
Pedri swiped through the article, his jaw tightening with every word.
The photos, blurry snapshots of him and Valentina during team interviews and moments caught on video, accompanied captions that painted an entirely false narrative.
Phrases like “unspoken chemistry” and “undeniable connection” jumped out at him, making his blood boil.
“This is…” Pedri trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.
“This is ridiculous.”
“You think that’s bad?” Ferran said, leaning over to scroll down.
“Check the comments.”
Pedri’s frown deepened as he skimmed the comment section, where fans had enthusiastically declared their support for the supposed couple.
"They’re so cute together!""I ship them so hard!""Finally, Pedri’s found someone who matches his energy!"
Pedri tossed the phone back to Ferran, his frustration palpable.
“None of this is true,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair again.
“Yeah, well,” Ferran said, pocketing his phone,
“if Y/n saw this, it might explain why she’s acting weird. Can’t blame her, man. This article’s painting a pretty convincing picture.”
Pedri exhaled deeply, leaning back against the bench.
“She didn’t say anything about it.”
Ferran shrugged.
“Would you, if the shoe was on the other foot? Imagine reading something like that about her. You wouldn’t even need to believe it to feel like crap.”
Pedri rubbed his face with his hands, guilt beginning to creep in.
“I didn’t think this could be bothering her. I didn’t even know about this until now.”
“Well,” Ferran said, giving him a pointed look,
“now you do. So what are you going to do about it?”
Pedri didn’t hesitate.
“I need to fix this,” he said firmly, determination sparking in his eyes.
Ferran gave him a pat on the back.
“Good. Go home, talk to her. Don’t let this article ruin things.”
As Ferran walked away, Pedri stayed seated for a moment longer, his thoughts racing.
Now it all made sense, your distance, the way you avoided his touch, the sadness in your eyes.
He couldn’t stand the thought of you hurting, especially because of something so far from the truth.
He stood abruptly, his mind made up.
He had to make things right.
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When Pedri came home that evening,
I was sitting on the couch, my laptop open in front of me, but my mind was far away, drifting aimlessly through thoughts I couldn’t quite organize.
The quiet hum of the apartment felt heavy, like it was pressing down on me, and I couldn’t escape it.
I had been trying to keep myself busy, just so I wouldn’t think too much about the distance that had been growing between Pedri and me.
But it didn’t help.
The more I tried to ignore it, the more the emptiness crept in.
The quiet space between us had only grown, and every little thing felt like a reminder of how lost I had become in my own insecurities.
I couldn’t keep pretending.
Every time I saw him laughing with Valentina, or when I came across fan edits of them together, the nagging feeling in my chest had gotten harder to ignore.
The worst part wasn’t even what people online were saying. It was how much I had started to doubt myself.
Doubt us.
When Pedri stepped into the living room, I felt the change in the air.
His presence filled the space, but something about his posture, his eyes, told me he had noticed something was off.
His gaze locked onto mine instantly, and I felt my stomach tighten in anticipation.
He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there for a moment, as if weighing whether he should bring it up.
His expression softened, but I could see the concern brewing beneath the calm.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of determination.
My heart skipped a beat.
“About what?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
He sighed, the frustration and worry clear on his face as he walked toward me.
He sat down beside me, his body close but not quite touching.
It was like he was giving me the space to open up, but I wasn’t sure I could.
He reached for my hand, and for a brief second, I considered pulling away.
The distance between us was still too fresh, the hurt too real.
But I didn’t.
I let him take my hand, his fingers threading through mine in the most familiar, comforting way.
But I could feel the weight in his touch, the uncertainty that had settled in his chest too.
"Why have you been pulling away from me?" he asked gently, his voice carrying a soft sadness that made my heart ache.
I glanced at him, feeling a lump form in my throat.
I had been trying to bury everything inside, trying to make it through without having to confront it.
But now, here we were, facing the truth of what had been building for weeks.
I swallowed hard.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
I had to look away from him, unable to bear the rawness in his gaze.
“It’s just... everything that’s been happening with you and Valentina... I can’t help but feel like I’m losing you. I don’t know if I even matter anymore.”
The words left me in a rush, tumbling out before I could stop them.
The weight of them felt like a confession, a cry for help.
Pedri’s eyes softened as he took a deep breath, and I could feel the tension in his shoulders as he gently cupped my cheek with his hand.
“Cariño,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a stray tear I hadn’t even realized had fallen.
“You matter more to me than anything in this world. I hate that this has made you feel like you don’t.”
His words wrapped around me like a lifeline, but they didn’t take away the pain.
I had watched, day after day, as the rumors built up.
The comments. The speculation.
The way people thought they knew something about us that we hadn’t even shared.
“It just hurts,” I whispered, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall again.
“Seeing those pictures. Reading the comments. Watching them ship you with someone who isn’t me... It’s like you’re slipping away, and I can’t do anything to stop it.”
Pedri’s thumb brushed against my cheek again, wiping away the tear that had fallen this time.
“I never wanted you to feel like this. I never wanted you to feel invisible,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
He moved a little closer, pressing his forehead against mine.
“I’m so sorry you’ve felt like you had to hide, or that you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me, Y/n. Please don’t ever doubt that.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, just taking in his words.
They were exactly what I needed to hear, and yet... something was still missing.
There was so much more I wanted to say, but the fear of making it worse held me back.
I took a shaky breath and looked up at him.
“It’s not about not being enough. It’s just... this whole situation. The rumors. The fans. They have this image of us, Pedri. And it’s like I’m not even in the picture.”
Pedri’s eyes darkened with frustration, and I could see the anger brewing beneath the surface.
But it wasn’t directed at me.
It was directed at everything else, the media, the fans, the narrative that had been spun around us without our consent.
“You’re not invisible,” he said fiercely, his voice unwavering.
“You’re not on the sidelines, Y/n. You’re the most important part of my life."
"I can’t stand seeing you hurt because of something that’s not even true.”
I let out a shaky breath, my heart starting to settle just a little, even though the ache hadn’t completely gone.
“But what are we supposed to do? How do we fix this?”
Pedri looked at me with such intensity that I felt like I was being pulled into his world, where nothing else mattered except us.
“I’m done hiding, cariño,” he said, his voice steady and filled with conviction.
“I want the world to know about us. I want everyone to see who you really are to me. You’re not a secret, and I’m not going to let the media or anyone else make you feel like you are.”
My breath caught in my throat.
I could hardly process what he was saying. It was so big, so bold, yet it felt like the most natural thing in the world coming from him.
He wasn’t just speaking out of anger or frustration; he was speaking out of love, and it made everything in me feel like it was finally falling into place.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“This is... this is a huge step, Pedri. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
His eyes softened again, and he reached out to touch my cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles against my skin.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he said.
“I don’t care about what the fans think. I care about you. About us. And I’m done hiding us.”
I felt tears well up again, but this time, they weren’t from hurt.
They were from relief, from the overwhelming love that suddenly felt so certain, so real.
“I love you,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
“I love you too,” Pedri replied, his voice full of warmth and sincerity.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips softly against mine.
For the first time in weeks, I felt like we were finally back on the same page, ready to face everything together.
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pedri posted on Instagram!
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Liked by yourusername, gavi, ferrantorres and 112,452 others
pedri El amor de mi vida.
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yourusername Love you the most 🩷
pedri Yo también te amo mi amor ❤️
ferrantorres 👏👏👏
pedri 💪
pedri_and_me6 I’m honestly shocked! Didn’t see this coming Pedri and his girl look cute together 🥹
barça_love_89 Pedri be scoring on and off the pitch dayuum
pedriclosetclothes8 Forrealll he bagged a baddie 💅
pepilvr8frv Wow I thought Pedri and Valentina were really together this is so unexpected but I’ll always ship Valentina and him. 🤷‍♀️
frbtogethergavi30 Girl stfu you don't even know them 🙄
brcculer8 Not you rooting for something that doesn't exist 🤦‍♀️
blueredlyy7 I just know it stinks girl get out of here 🥱
lvlybarca8630 Pedri that's our girlfriend now 🤭
delulu4pedri8 Ew he deserves better 🤢
chichiclassypepi8 Really living up to the name
fnzygvi6 He isn't going to acknowledge you stand up sis 😒
The end
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560 notes · View notes
wosohours · 9 months ago
Text
bracelets - leah williamson x reader
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With Leah being out on concussion protocol, the club doctors ordered her to take a couple of days off to rest. While she is still able to do light activities here and there, she just had to be careful with things that would cause too much strain on her brain, like being on her phone, watching TV, reading a book, etc.
Although it is unfortunate that she cannot play for a bit, you both are grateful that you two get to spend some time together, especially Leah, since she likes it when you take care of her.
You have been doing your best in terms of trying to keep her mind off of her short recovery in the form of many different mini hobbies such as; diamond painting, legos, and puzzles. At one point you had faith that you could get Leah into baking but of course the second she passes the threshold into the kitchen disaster strikes.
Today you decided to get Leah to do something that will not only keep her busy but will keep her away from her phone for a bit.
Walking into your shared bedroom you greet Leah with a kiss on her forehead and say, “Put your shoes on, we’re going to the crafts store.”
“The crafts store? Is this another one of your little hobby ideas to keep me busy?” she says getting off the bed to walk to her closet.
“Yes, even though this is nothing like your ACL days, I just know how you get when you are stuck in your head for too long,’ you tell her.
“That’s very sweet of you babe. I appreciate you putting up with me these past couple of days,” she replies.
____________________
As you two walk around the crafts store you point out certain things that might pique her interest, but not quite caught her eye.
“You should do these,” you say, grabbing a container full of different colorful seed beads. “You can make cute personalized bracelets for your teammates and maybe even some to give back to fans since they’re always making some for you.”
A big smile grows on Leah’s face as she takes the beads from you to observe them. “This is a great idea baby. Let’s get colorful threads too so we can make friendship bracelets,” she says looking around the aisle for the threads.
Looking around a bit more you find individual color bead strands making you think of a TikTok you saw a couple of days ago. You grab a few different shades of blue and walk over to Leah putting them up against her eye.
“What are you doing?” Leah giggles giving you a confused look.
Smiling at her, you put another shade of blue next to her face and ask, “Do you remember that TikTok video I showed you the other day? Where couples would find beads that matched their partner’s eye color and then they would combine the two colors to make a bracelet?”
“Yes, I do remember that. Wait let me go find one that matches your eyes too,” She says walking over to the bead wall in search of a color that closely represents her favorite set of eyes.
“Yep, these will do. I can’t wait to wear these all the time,” she says looking at you.
After grabbing the rest of the stuff you need for the bracelets such as stretchy string and little initial beads, you make your way to check out and head home.
____________________
Leah immediately sets up all the stuff you two got on the dining room table while you go into the kitchen to get her some water and pain meds since her head is starting to hurt again.
“What do you want to do first?” you ask, sitting across from her.
“Let's make the eye color ones first,” she replies.
While making the bracelets you two sit in silence with music playing softly in the background just enjoying being in each other’s presence.
“This was such a great idea, love. Can you tie mine on my wrist?” she asks, and you do so.
When you are done tying her bracelet you tell her, “You know I used to make these and sell them at school. I wanted this pair of boots so bad, and my mom said that if I can come up with half the price of the boots she’d pay the rest. My classmates came up to me with special color requests and in two weeks I had more than half the price, and I got them the next day.”
“I could tell you’re a pro at this. You’ve always been a hard worker,” Leah says smiling down at her new bracelet.
____________________
A couple hours later you and Leah were still at it making bracelets. Well Leah was making bracelets, you were cooking dinner and would stop every now and then to tie them so they would not fall apart.
“FUCK!” you hear Leah shout from the dining room making you rush over to check on her.
“What happened?” you ask with concern in your tone.
Leah lifts up the clear string with no beads on it and says, “I just tried to tie it and the beads exploded everywhere. I don’t know how you do this, it’s so hard.”
She gets down on her knees and starts to pick up all the stray beads. “I mean they are everywhere, we’re going to be finding random beads for weeks.”
You stifle a laugh as you go to help her pick up the beads, “I’ve had years of practice baby, it’s okay.”
“I can pick them up babe, I don’t want you to burn dinner because of me,” she says.
“Alright, why don’t you try the threads and make friendship bracelets for the girls,” you suggest walking back to the kitchen.
“Yea I’ll need your help with that, I can’t figure that shit out to save my life. I can’t believe how many different patterns there are to make a bracelet,” she says, rolling her eyes, still picking up beads.
“It just depends on the design you want, but I’ll help you,” you call out.
____________________
After dinner you and Leah were back at it, this time making thread bracelets so it would not be as messy.
“I finished Beth's, that should be the last one. Man my hands hurt,” Leah says, cracking her knuckles.
You finish tying Beth’s bracelet and say, “Let’s clean up and head to bed. You can give these to the girls tomorrow.”
As you two walk to your bedroom you hear Leah let out a small yelp making you quickly turn around. “I just stepped on a damn bead,” Leah says, holding up a small red bead.
____________________
The next day before you two head to the game Leah grabs all of the bracelets she made and puts them in her bag.
Currently, you two are sitting in the stands with her mother and brother waiting for the game to start. “Do you think they’ll like their bracelets?” Leah asks you while her eyes are on the field.
“Of course baby, I think they’ll love them,” you tell her, kissing her cheek.
She had already given a few lucky fans some bracelets and their reactions warmed her heart. She liked being able to give them something that she made for once instead of the other way around.
After the final whistle blew she grabbed your hand pulling you towards the field with her where she started handing out the bracelets.
“Aww Leah for me? These are so cute,” Lia said, pulling Leah into a hug.
“Is this how you spend your recovery time? Also matching one your lady,” Beth teased, putting on her bracelet.
“Yeah, it was my girl’s idea. It’s our eye colors see,” Leah beamed as she turned around, watching you speak to Viv who also got a bracelet.
“Of course it was, this is very sweet. Thank you, Leah,” Alessia says.
Why Leah was still chatting with the girls, she felt your arms wrap around her waist making her lean back into you. “I told you they would love them,’ you said, kissing the side of her beanie-covered head.
“I know, it was a great idea on your part,” she says, turning around in your arms, “Thank you for taking care of me, I know I can be a lot sometimes.”
“You’re just fine baby, I love taking care of you,” you tell her tightening your arms around her.
As Leah leans in for a kiss she gets interrupted by someone making a gagging noise. “You two are so cute it makes me physically sick,” Katie yells, causing everyone around to laugh.
Leah rolls her eyes and gives you a kiss, sneakily showing Katie her middle finger.
____________________
note: idk fam.
405 notes · View notes
jessjad · 1 year ago
Text
More than this
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Summary: Y/N and Dean have been together for a while now, but she's not sure if this is going any further. More and more it feels like he only wants one thing from her and Y/N isn't sure if she can continue to give it to him.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word count: 4417
Warnings: 18+ only!!! some smutty smutness (a little rougher in the beginning), a little heartbreak, some angst, fluff and some realizations
A/N: Hello! 😊 So, I had this idea in my head and I really wanted to write it out, but I had to redo it a couple of times until I got it right. Get ready for some feelings. All mistakes are mine!
My Masterlist
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"You like this, right?"
Dean murmured roughly into Y/N's ear while he kept pounding her hard into the matress. She was laying underneath him, legs around his hips and taking his rough thrusts with accompanying moans. Yeah, she liked it. Dean knew just how to make her come, how to manhandle her, but she could not answer him. In a way she just wanted it to be over. He kept talking dirty to her and started to grib her throat lightly. With his other hand he took one of her calves and brought her leg up on his shoulder to change the angle, to get even deepr into her heat.
"Oh, I know you like this, sweetheart. Hitting every sensitive spot insight you while I fuck you really hard. Just to keep you on edge." he increased the pressure on her throat a little and started to circle her clit with his thump.
Y/N began to feel a little anxious about the hand on her throat and gripped his wrist with some fear, but that was something that Dean didn't notice while he was chasing his own release. Y/N was sure that he would never hurt her, but that was something knew. Something she actually did not like.
She felt the pressure build in her core and the heat that started to rise up in her body took her mind of the current situation that bothered her. Dean lavished on her nipples with his tounge, intensifying the pressure and in the moment when he let go of her throat, the coil snapped and she came hard on his cock. Screaming his name, Dean's movements began to falter and he too came undone, releasing his sticky seed and filling her to the brim.
The Winchester rolled down of her and layed himself right next to her. Relishing in the feeling of the post sexual bliss, both their breahts came hard while their racing hearts were trying to calm themselfs down again. He closed his eyes and smiled before he turned to the woman next to him, to see how she felt. With one arm drapped over her stomache he gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek, but Y/N didn' react in any way.
"You okay there, sweetheart?" he asked and looked closely at her.
Upon hearing his voice, a smile appeared on her lips and she turned her head to Dean. "Yeah, all good."
To not have to look him into the face much longer she scooded over to him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Now, laying in his warm embrace and hearing his heartbeat, she felt safe, good. Once this rough side of Dean was gone, she wanted to be as close to him as she could. This is what she wanted to experience more with him and she probably should just talk to him. But she didn't know how. And if she was honest, this was somehow all her fault.
When she met Dean for the first time, she was hooked right away. He had put on a charming smile that reached his beautiful green eyes and right away she felt like a fly who was drawn to the light. Although she couldn't really believe that he was actually attracted to her. She was no model and definitly not perfect, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. And so she had no problem to share her bed with him the first night and it was really beautiful.
A string of dates followed in which they got to know each other better and better and they also kept up their nightly activities underneath the sheets. After a month it felt right and Y/N started to fall for the tall man. Her heart began to yearn for him and she could only hope that he was starting to feel the same way. She felt so comfortable with him, because he seemed to genuinely like her just the way she was. And that led to the situation they now found themselves in.
One night, while they were about to make the bed shake again, she had brought it up that she likes it a little harder sometimes. And Dean, the gentleman that he was, tried to do justice to her wishes. In the beginning they tested it out and at some point they found a grove with eachother. It was fun.
But now, over six months later, this was all there was left. Hard, rough sex. No sweet feelings or romance. And also no emotional intimacy. Even the dates had stopped. They only met at her place or, like right now, here in the bunker at Dean's place.
Y/N knew about his actual job and eventhough she didn't want to get involved with it, it didn't bother her. Dean was saving lives, he was a warior. A frecking hero! And that just made her fall for him even harder. But after all this time, she still didn't know if he was falling in love with her too.
Long after Dean felt asleep, Y/N was still lying awake in bed. There was to much going on in her head. She looked over to Dean and tears began to burn in her eyes. As much as she liked the man next to her, this was not what she wanted. Sometimes he was so secretive and she felt like she didn't even know him. It was as if he didn't want to let her into his heart. As if he didn't want to let her share his feelings.
And so, Y/N knew what she needed to do. She needed to get out of here for a while. Needed to get away from Dean and this entrenched situation. A little distance would probably be the best for now. And with this resolution she stood up. Quietly, to not wake up Dean, she put on her clothes and grabbed her stuff. With one last glance back she decided to write him a little note and a minute later she was out of his bedroom.
On her way out of the bunker she passed by the kitchen. The lights were on and when she looked into the room, she saw Sam sitting on the table, his laptop infront of him and a fresh cup of coffee next to it. He looked up after hearing steps, but smiled as soon as he saw it was Y/N.
"Hey! You still awake?" Y/N asked as soon as Sam noticed her.
"Yeah! Yeah, Cas just called. He is on a case in Michigan and needed some help. So, I try to find him some answers."
Y/N only nodded as she took a few steps into the kitchen and smiled. She admired the cohesion the boys shared. They always helped eachother out if needed. Sam on the other hand noticed her backpack that hung from her right sholder and frowned a litte.
"Are you going somewhere? It's still early in the morning?" the younger Winchester asked and directed his attention fully to her.
"Oh, ehm..." Y/N needed to think fast, 'cause she didn't want to lie to Sam. "... I totally forgot that a good friend of mine invited me to her birthday party tomorrow. And since she lives in Jamestown..."
Upon that realization Sam nodded his head. "... it's a long drive to North Dakota."
"Yup." she agreed.
And it was not even a lie. Her friend Lizzy would celebrate her birthday, but just not for four days. Y/N had already texted her friend to let her know, that she would be there a little earlier and when Lizzy would read the message in a few hours she definitly wouldn't mind it. Since they haven't seen eachother in a long time.
"You know, you could've taken a flight down there too." he suggested and stood up from his place.
"Yeah, but I... actually like to drive. You know? Blasting my music, rolled down windows and the wind blows through my hair..."
"Alright, alright." Sam chuckled. "Dean says the same things, so I get it."
Now it was Y/N who laughed a little. But just the thought of the man who owned her heart, stung to some degree. Maybe she should've just talked to him, instead of running away, but she really didn't know how. The one thing she didn't want, was to mess their relationship up. If this even was a relationship.
"Doesn't Dean at least say goodbye to you?" the tall man questioned, while he looked out into the hallway.
"No!" she blurted out way to fast, what gave her an confused look of Sam. "No, but it's okay. We... have been really busy... you know? So... he needs his beauty sleep."
She said and did some randomly gestures with her hands, so that Sam knew right away what she exactly meant. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, getting a little shy.
"Okay, alright. I don't wanna know... that... actually."
They both laughed and inside Y/N were relieved, that he seemed to believe her. Both of them fell silent again and before she could change her mind, Y/N moved forward and hugged Sam goodbye.
"Don't be up to long. Get some sleep, okay?"
Sam hugged her back, the weird feeling in his gut ignoring for now.
"Don't worry, Y/N. I will."
And without looking back again, she made her way down to the garage to get into her car and leave Lebanon behind her.
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Dean didn't know what startled him awake, but when he opend his eyes, the sun had just begun to rise over the horizon. He searched his bedside with his hand automatically, but his eyes followed right away. The place where Y/N had slept just some hours ago was already empty. And cold. Only a little note was laying on the pillow, saying that she was gone for a few days. He sat up and noticed right away that her clothes and backpack were gone, too. What was going on?
The older Winchester got out of his bed and went out into the hallway to look for his girlfriend. But he didn't get to far before Sam appeared infront him on his way to his room, yawning his heart out.
"Hey!" he made himself known. "Have you seen Y/N?"
"Oh, hey Dean." answered Sam a little confused and stopped in his tracks when he reached his brother. "She... went out to her friend. Did she... did she not tell you that?"
Dean huffed. "All I got is this little piece of paper." holding the note up to show it to Sam.
"Dean... did something happen between the two of you?"
"What? No!" he blurted out right away, but the look on Sam's face got him a little worried. "Why?"
Sam relaxed his shoulders a little and shook his head in thought. "I don't know... I've met her in the kitchen before she went out and... I had a weird feeling. You know? She... she didn't seem herself... in a way. As if she... was a little on edge?"
"What?" now Dean was confused. "But eveything was fine when we went to sleep."
To that Sam had no idea what else he could say and a weird silence fell between the two men.
"Alright. I'll try calling her. Thanks, Sam."
"Oh, not... not at all."
But Dean didn't hear that anymore. He was already back in his room, grabbing for his phone.
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Y/N was finally able to breath. It was a freeing feeling that she had really needed. Lizzy was surprised that she came over so early for her birthday but she didn't complain either. They had know each other for so many years now, that she was happy to get some alone time with her dear friend.
The only times that Y/N felt a little bit guilty was when Dean texted or tried to call her. She was still not ready to take his calls, because she knew that she would give in the second she heared his beautiful voice. She missed him, though. A lot. She missed him so much, that her heart hurt and screamed his name. So that's why she only answerd his messages, eventhough her answers were short and vague. He knew now where exactly she was, but she also asked of him to wait for her to come back. That she just wanted to spent some long needed time with her friends. And he accepted it.
Now, the birthday party was in full swing and banished her bad thoughts. They all laughed, drank a little and just had a really good time. The girls were sitting outside in the backyard of Lizzys house and enjoyed the fairly warm weather. The hours were passing by quickly and for the first time in the last months Y/N felt carefree. But the later the evening got and the more alcohol flowed, the more intimate the conversations became.
Late at night, there were only Lizzy, Y/N and Cathy, another good friend of the girls, left. And Cathy was very expressive, especially about men. She had just told some funny anecdotes about her past relationships and they were all laughing a good amount. But she also talked about her problems with the new man in her life, named Mike. He was older than her and they came from two very different backrounds. But love had still struck them.
"So, it's all good now? With you and Mike?" Lizzy asked.
"Yeah! Yeah, I talked to him. I just had to and he understood it."
Lizzy saw the lightly confused look on Y/N's face and explained. "Cathy had a little problem with their sexlife and she was debating for quite some time if she should say something or not."
'Huh...' Y/N thought. As it seemed she was not the only one who had those problems.
"Our sex was really boring, you know? Like, reeeeaaaally booooring. I mean, I like it slow and intense sometimes, too. It's not a bad thing. But I also really needed the rough sex. You know? When you're just so pent up and you need to release some stress... a good hard pounding can do wonders, right? " Cathy continued speaking and laughed. "And you two know me. I've always been open about what I like and what not. But with Mike... it was difficult, you know?"
"And how did it... go?" Y/N asked.
She didn't know why she asked that, when she didn't even want to talk about it. But maybe this was the right moment. Maybe she should take advantage of this moment and talk to her friends about her problems too.
"Good, actually. Well, I was really nervous in the beginning, 'cause I truly like the guy, you know? But That was also the reason why I wanted to talk to him."
"Yeah..." Y/N agreed, but had to think about her own situation with Dean. Maybe she made this all into a much bigger thing than it acutally was. "...yeah."
But Lizzy noticed the change in her friend right away. She saw the change in her mood and it got her worried a bit. She had asked Y/N about Dean and how their relationship developed, but she didn't fully answer her question.
"Y/N? You okay?"
That question brought back her attention to her friends and she sat herself up a little straighter.
"Yes... I am." she tried to mask it, but Cathy saw right through it.
"Well, THAT sounded convincing..." Cathy turned around and asked silently for an explanation.
"Y/N, girl... you can talk to us." Lizzy tried and then Y/N just felt the urge to talk to her friends what was on her mind.
"Okay, okay, ehm..." now she felt ridicoulous in a way. "Dean and I... it's mostly good, you know? We get along really well and he swepped me of my feet right away..." she smiled, but that faded quickly.
"There is just one thing... and I don't know what to do abut it..." she shook her head and took a sip of her wine, like trying to steal herself. "I get what you're saying, Cathy. About the rough sex and all. I do like that too, but..."
She felt so awkward talking about this, but she also knew that her friends would not judge her or talk her down in any way. And maybe they could give her advice on how to navigate that ship safely into the haven.
"Okay, I'm just gonna say it." with a deep sigh Y/N kept talking. "When I first talked to Dean about the things I like in bed I also told him that I do like it rough sometimes. And with a charming smile he tried to live up to that. We tried different things until we found a grove we both liked, you know?"
Lizzy and Cathy shared a quick look as if they already knew what was coming next over her lips.
"But since then... rough and hard sex is all that's left. It's like... nothing else is existing anymore. We stopped going on dates, we are not talking to eachother anymore like we did in the first few months... all we do when we meet is eat something and then... on into the bedroom."
"Y/N..." Cathy said, but the woman continued talking.
"Don't get me wrong: He is not hurting me or forcing himself on to me or any of that. Not at all. I do like that kind of sex and he knows my body like a violin. But... it feels like it's just sex and nothing more. No romance, no emotional intimacy, no... connection. You know what I mean? And I miss that. I miss the slow, passionate sex. The lingering touches and the soft kisses... we don't have that anymore."
"Do you love him?" Cathy asked after a moment where noone knew what to say and Y/N did not have to think about it.
"Yeah. I do." and that truth hurt.
"Then you should definitly talk to him. Tell him how you feel and that you need more. This is not something you can just... sit out, you know?"
"But... that's the problem. I... I just don't know how. He seems so content and I don't wanna ruin our relationship by causing an maybe unnecessary problem."
"But it's never unnecessary to talk about the way you feel and try to improve your relationship with him. And when Dean loves you too, then he should have no problems with that, right?" Lizzy asked.
Y/N wanted to agree. It made so much sense hearing this from her friends and now she was wondering why she did not just try it. She was even questioning her behavier right know in leaving Dean and not telling him why. Her mind was racing and she felt tears starting to burn her eyes.
"Dean does love you... right?" Lizzy wondered.
But Y/N could not reply right away to her friend. She wiped the tears from her cheek that were now rolling down her face.
"Honestly, I... I don't know..."
After that relevation the other two girls came over and embraced Y/N into a big hug. But none of the three ladies saw the green eyed man that stood in the shadows, looking into the backyard and balling his fists, while he eavesdropped the whole conversation and tried to hold back his own tears.
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"You need to talk to him, Y/N."
"I know, Lizzy. I will."
"And if he doesn't understand it, then he is not the right guy for you."
The little goodbye scene kept playing over and over in Y/N's head. She had really awesome friends who tried to help and protect her and in the end, this little hide out was what she had needed. Because one thing became really clear to her and that was that she loved Dean. Her heart was his and she wanted at least fight for it.
But now, sitting in her car in the bunker's garage, nine hours later her nerves were starting to get to her. Maybe Dean was angry with her for leaving him so suddenly. Maybe he didn't wanted to talk to her anymore. Maybe, maybe, maybe...
She took a deep breath and stealed herself before she finally got out. With her bag over her right shoulder Y/N stepped into the war room, but the bunker layed erriely dark and quiet. Putting her bag down she went to look for Dean or Sam, but could not find any of the men right away. Which was weird, because she had told Dean that she would be back this evening. When she went down the hallway to the bedrooms she saw a light after turnig the corner to where the Dean Cave was.
Her heart started to race a little, but when she reached the door and opened it, she didn't know what to say or think. The room was enlightened by a lot of candles. The two armchairs were standing on a wall and a big pull out couch had took in their place. On a sidetable were some brugers, fries, drinks and an apple pie, ready to be eaten. What was happening?
By the sound of Dean clearing his throat Y/N was startled a little, but her eyes found him only seconds later. He was wearing dark Jeans, a black shirt and her favorite brown and grey checkered button down. He smiled, but also he seemed almost a little shy.
"What..." Y/N couldn't quite believe it and was touched at the same time.
"To much?" he asked with a wry grin.
"No! No, I... love it."and she really did, her heart was mealting on the spot. "But... why?"
Dean sighed. "Okay." he came over to her and took her hands in his.
But he did not really know how to start this conversation. In his mind he had time to think about it and in the end he had decided to just wing it, when the moment came. Only now this idea was probably not the best one he ever had.
"I'm so bad at this..." he grumbled to himself, but Y/N had still heared him. "I'm sorry... Y/N."
The woman furrowed her brows a little in confusion. "What?"
"I should've noticed something. I should've realized that... something was not right between us."
"Dean..."
"I know I've been really busy lately with my work. We didn't have a lot of time for us and... god, I should've at least noticed the signs during our sex...."
Now Y/N took a step back and looked at the man infront of her questioningly. "What do you mean?"
Dean's eyes widened. "Crap..." he uttered and scratched his head. "I, ehm... after you'd been gone for four days, I followed you to Jamestown to see you."
"You did?"
"I felt like I had to. You didn't answer my calls and I had the impression that you were pulling away from me. That I was about to lose you. So I wanted to talk to you one last time."
"But..." now she was really confused. "I did not see you. You weren't there..."
"I was... but I didn't get the chance to make myself known. You were sitting outside... with your friends..."
She needed a moment before she realized what he just had said. He was there and had heared everything she was explaning to Lizzy and Cathy. He knew it now. He knew what was going on in her.
"Oh god..." an uncomfortable feeling rose within her and she touched her forehand to collect her thoughts. "I wanted to talk to you, Dean. I really wanted to. But I just didn't know how and I didn't want to..."
"I love you." Dean cut her off. "Y/N... I love you."
His words started to sink in and tears began to build in her eyes.
"I should've told you that way sooner, but... like I said, I'm really not good at this. But that's not a good excuse either. And I don't wanna lose you over something that we can fix without any problems."
He touched her cheek and tried to catch the now falling tears with his thump.
"You are so important to me... and I hope you will never feel like you can't talk to me again.
And to prove his point, he kissed her. A little cautious at first, but Y/N gave in right away and so he could deepen the kiss. It felt so good, she had really missed that, but she was still a little nervous. She layed her arms around his neck and buried her hands in his hair. Dean embraced her into a tight hug and moved from her lips to her neck. She moaned softly and goosebumps rose all over her body.
His hands slowly made their way down to her hips and landed on her bottom. He gentle squeezed and massaged her ass, while she rubbed herself on him. It felt like they were back at the beginning months ago, when they started dating. The lingering touches, the soft moans. As if they had all the time in the world.
Their clothes fell slowly piece by piece to the floor and after Dean brought Y/N down on the couch, the underwear was all that was left. But Dean kept holding her tightly in his arms, kissed her slowly but very passionately. Legs and arms intertwined it felt like they were trying to become one, not just physically but with their minds, too. Like Dean tried to connect their souls with eachother.
When the rest of the fabric fell, Dean kept eye contact while he entered her with slow and deep strokes. He moved with passion and desire as he put his hand under her hip to change the angle, to be even deeper connected to his girl.
"I love you." he said again, after he picked up some speed.
"I love you, too." Y/N answered as she came closer and closer to her climax.
And while they both came undone, her heart was bursting with love for this man, who loved her back just as much.
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A/N: I don't know why, but I really loved this. 🥰 I hope you liked it too. And to anyone who came across this, let me know what you think. I'd appreciate it. 😊
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@lyarr24 @leigh70 @k-slla
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holylulusworld · 11 months ago
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Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (5)
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Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader
Warnings: angst, shy reader, fluff, innocent reader, protective/possessive Sherlock, fingering, smut, unprotected sex, first time, creampie, breeding kink (a hint), degrading (namecalling)
A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (4)
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist
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His large hand pressed against your untouched petals. You whimpered, in need, an unknown heat spreading through your abdomen. You felt hot and started to rock your hips, rubbing yourself against his fingers.
Sherlock watched you desperately moving your hips, faster, and faster until he took his hand away. You cried out, hands grasping for his wrist to keep him from taking away his touch.
He purred your name and teased you for turning into a whore within a few moments. Your eyes watered because he didn’t give you what you wanted. Your lips wobbled and you choked out a sob.
“Do you want to fulfill your wifely duties now,” he whispered and nipped at your earlobe. Sherlock tugged at your ear shell, making you whine. “Say it, wife.”
“I want—” you sniffled. What you wanted; you didn’t know. In the books you read there wasn’t more than kissing and waking next to their lover the next day. What happens in between, you didn’t know for sure. “I want you to fulfill your husbandly duties.”
Sherlock growled before he rolled on top of you. Just then you realized he was bare. His chest pressed against your heaving breasts, and his lips, those dangerous pillows pressed against yours. He shoved his tongue past your parting lips to lick into your mouth.
Your eyes widened. This wasn’t the way a gentleman kissed his wife. No. It was so much more. He devoured your mouth while shoving your nightie up to your waist, baring your most precious secret to him. Sherlock settled between your legs, spreading your quivering thighs for him.
“Your mine to devour, and claim. No one can have you,” he growled the words as you stared up at the beast your husband turned into. His lips claimed yours again, a little softer this time. “I’m going to fulfill my husbandly duties now, wife. You’re going to come on my cock only.”
Your eyes widened. For months you wished he’d take you like the lovers in the books you read, but suddenly you panicked a little.
What if he didn’t like touching you? What if you did something wrong? What if you couldn’t make him fill you with his seed?
His eyes bored into yours when he kneeled between your legs. He smirked before pressing one finger against your untouched opening.
“Husband,” you breathlessly whimpered. You didn’t know what he was up to until he slowly pushed his finger into your cunt.
“This is mine,” he started to move back and forth, eyes never leaving your face. “Say it.”
“It’s yours…”
“Again…” Sherlock slipped his finger out of your cunt, only to press two inside, now scissoring you open. “Say it, wife!”
“It’s yours…Sir,” you whimpered, earning a deep guttural growl. “Only yooours….”
His fingers left you empty and wanting. He was suddenly back on top of you, his mouth stealing another kiss. You didn’t know if you should do something or lie still.
“You are mine, that’s right,” he growled, his eyes black with lust. You could only nod because you felt something bigger than his fingers poke at your entrance. Holding your breath, you looked up at him, feeling his shaft slowly slide into you.
“Sher-lock,” you babbled his name. “It’s too much.”
“I know, my love,” he whispered and kissed the tears running down your cheeks away. He slowly moved back and forth, but it still hurt when he tried to push further. “It will only hurt for a moment.”
His lips soothed your discomfort. Sherlock murmured gentle words while pressing into you. He panted against your lips when he was finally fully sheathed inside your cunt.
He gently cupped your face with one hand to kiss you deeply, and softly. Sherlock gave you time, to just feel his cock inside of your now spread-out pussy. “There you go, my love. You’re doing so well for me.”
You didn’t know if he told the truth. His huge shaft pressed against your wall, and all you could do was trust his words.
He smiled, before kissing you again.
“This is the tightest and sweetest cunt I ever ruined,” there was a smirk on his lips, and his eyes full of mischief. “You will scream my name tonight, wife. And tomorrow night, and every night from now on.”
You shuddered under his hungry gaze. His grin almost wolfishly he dug his knees into the mattress and started to rock his hips. Back, and forth, back and forth.
His thrusts were powerful enough to make you scream at the sheer force. It still hurt, but something else joined the pain. A pressure built in your abdomen, and warmth spread through your body.
“You will take me any time of the day from now on,” he growled against your already kiss-swollen lips. “That’s where you belong, wife. Underneath me, full of cock like the tainted whore you are.”
Something snapped in you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waistline and your arms around his back. Holding tight onto him for dear life. He was relentless and got faster and faster.
“Fuck, this cunt is going to be the death of me.”
You whimpered at his crude words. He called you whore, slut, and something you didn’t understand while ramming into you harder.
“I want you to come on my cock. Now! You’re my wife, my whore, and I will paint you with my seed.”
“Sir…Sherlock,” you mindlessly babbled while raking your nails over his back. And then, something happened. Pleasure. Pure pleasure forcing tears to spring free. “SIR!”
“That’s it, my love, my whore…my perfect wife,” he growled before kissing you hard. Warmth filled your cunt, and you whimpered against him, fearing you did something wrong. “Fuck, my child will grow inside this perfect womb, and I’ll fuck another into you while you carry it.”
Sherlock buried his face in your neck and collapsed on top of you. His cock remained inside, still spreading you wide.
“Sherlock?” You murmured.
“Perfect, my love. You were so good for me, wife,” he whispered against your sweaty skin. “I can’t get enough of this cunt, I’m afraid, you got me addicted.” You sighed when he finally pulled out to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to rest. “Sleep, my love. I’ll run you a bath.” He softly spoke to you and kissed your temple. “My beautiful wife.”
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You soon find out that Sherlock’s hunger is insatiable.
Only hours after he took your flower, he had you again. This time he bent you over the desk at his study, telling you to hold tight onto the old furniture.
He shoved your skirts up, and slid into you from behind, growling your name as you wiggled underneath him. His thrusts were as powerful as ever as he pushed into you.
“This is mine,” he growled and leaned over your body to whisper filthy words in your ear. To your shame, you got wetter with every crude word. Your mother would’ve been ashamed of you for enjoying being called a whore, and that you’re only a slutty hole he can stuff. “No one is going to touch you. You’re mine.”
“Husband—” you whimpered, mortified because his brother Mycroft stepped inside the study. Your brother-in-law covered his eyes and retreated in a hurry.
“He needs to learn his place,” Sherlock whispered in your ear, a smirk in his voice. “You’re my wife, and he won’t interfere with our marriage ever again.”
Lips quivering you gave in to the pleasure your body greedily accepted. Your eyes filled with tears you feared your brother-in-law would now believe you’re no better than the painted ladies offering their service in dark alleys.
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“Brother, that was more than inappropriate!” Mycroft yelled loud enough for you to hear his words at the library. “How could put your lovely wife in such a position.”
“That’s right,” Sherlock possessively growled. “She’s my wife, and I take her in any position I want to.”
“Sherlock, you know that’s not what I meant. I know about wifely duties, and that you always had a stronger libido than it was good for you. But she’s a lovely and innocent flower. You cannot…”
Sherlock only smirked.
“My beautiful flower is not of your concern.” He stepped closer to his brother to glare down at him. “You will only address her as Mrs. Sherlock Holmes from now on, and only when I’m around. I saw the way you looked at her. She’s my wife, my love! I love her, and you cannot threaten our luck!”
Your heart fluttered at Sherlock’s words. It was the first time he admitted he loves you in front of someone else.
“Brother, I only want you to treat her with respect and love!”
“I do,” Sherlock bit back. “How I fulfill my husbandly duties to produce an heir is none of your concern either. Not everyone only wants to put their seed in a woman’s womb. I want to hear her scream, whimper, and moan because I make her feel so good. This is nothing to discuss with my brother, though.”
“Just never mention it again,” Mycroft lowered his voice. “Sherlock don’t overdo it. She’s still an innocent flower. You cannot mount her like some animal.”
Sherlock smirked, remembering how you begged him for more and praised his name before his brother stepped inside the room.
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“Husband.” You get up from the chaise longue and put the book you read aside. “How was your brother’s visit.”
“Short-lived,” he replied, eyes drifting toward the book you read. “The Romance of Lust.” He mused, making your heart drop. “I see you have developed an appetite too.”
“I’m sorry, husband…”
He chuckled, deep and rich. “What did arouse you while reading this book?”
“He—” You shook your head, unable to tell him about the young man kissing a woman’s cunt with his lips.
“I read the book a long time ago.” He lifted your chin with his index finger. “Would you like me to put my mouth on you too?”
You nodded eagerly, already tugging at his trousers. “Please, Sir.”
“Sherlock. You will call me Sherlock from now on,” he purred and claimed your lips in a soft kiss. “Let’s get you comfortable and see if your other lips taste as good as these…”
Part 6
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syntheticsymp · 3 months ago
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Ok, hear me out,
Nikto with erectile dysfunction
Living with Acute Disassociative Disorder and severe PTSD makes him feel completely disconnected from his body, making it hard for him to control. And the amount of medication he has to take just to stay somewhat sane has to have some negative side effects.
It doesn’t matter what porn Krueger sneaks in or the pretty girl Nikto imagines while palming his cock because it always ends the same. With no relief. Softening before he can finish.
It’s a huge blow to his pride. Nikto’s violent, practically a killing machine, yet can’t get his own cock to work properly.
But it was fine. At least he wasn’t hypersexual like Krueger or desperate like Konig.Besides, he couldn’t care less about sex. Relationships like that were hard when he felt like a ghost haunting his own body.
However, he could only tell himself it was fine until you started dating you. Well, less ‘dating’ and more ‘deciding you were his,’ but it was the same in his cold, dead eyes.
Looking at you like this, after teasing you for the better part of the hour, he could be more ready to take what was his. You were laid out infront of him, hands bound and whimpering. His cock was painfully hard as he fished it out of his loose boxers.
With a cruel precision, he lined himself up. One thrust was all he needed, and god, he couldn’t wait. He pressed a harsh kiss to your stomach, his scarred lips bruising your stomach.
You cried out as he pressed in, then pulled out almost immediately.
“дерьмо, дерьмо, дерьмо!” He muttered, stuffing himself back in his pants.
Your teary eyes opened. He had stopped. That… that wasn’t like him. He never cared about your feelings, he just did what he wanted. You managed to prop yourself up by your elbows, wrists still tied.
“Nikto?” You called to him, fearing that he was having another episode. You squeezed your thighs shut to stop the dull buzzing, and this time, he didn’t stop you.
He hissed, pulling back, anger plastered across his face. You couldn’t yet see what was wrong.
He ignored you, opting to sit on the edge of the bed facing away from you. You didn’t speak after that. It would make him upset if you did. His temper was as delicate as the mine fields he has run across.
Instead, you sat up. You pressed your chest against his back. The cloth of his shirt was rough, a dark blue, standard KorTac shirt. Even if he stripped you bare, he refused to allow himself the same vulnerability. You leaned forward, letting your cheek rest against the back of his neck and hugging your arms around his torso as best you could with the handcuffs intact. Your fingertips couldn’t touch with how wide he was.
The two of you stayed like that for a long moment. He didn’t say anything, so you assumed you were doing something right. It takes him a long time to snap back to reality, and your arms were growing tired.
“…We wanted to fuck you tonight.” The vulgar words sounded so strange coming from a rough, sad voice. He was genuinely upset.
That’s when it clicked. If he wanted to fuck you, he would have. There must have physically been something stopping him.
“I know,” you replied simply. It was such a dumb thing to comfort your kidnapper turned Stockholm Syndrome partner over. Perhaps being with him for so long truly did drive you mad. “We can try again, some other time, if you’d like.”
The offer sounded so innocent for what it truly was.
It wasn’t enough to completely melt away his insecurities, but he took one of your hands in his. He played with your fingers, until he squeezed too hard and you attempted to pull back, only for him to catch the chains around your wrists he had tied on.
“Yes. We will,” he said firmly, his eyes finally flitting to yours. “You are ours. It is only a matter of time until we will be official.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, voice soft. “Official.” The word stung the back of your throat. To him, dumping his seed inside you was practically a marriage proposal. You were hardly his girlfriend, just a toy, you weren’t prepared for whatever being his wife entailed.
“Then, we will fuck you until you cannot move. That way, you cannot leave.” He spoke like a serial killer planning their next kill. “We can do it, we are very young.”
Pure fear compelled you to speak. “But, I need to be able to walk.” Maybe he’s think it was a joke. You hoped he did.
“We are strong. We can carry you.”
You grimaced. He must have picked up on your expression. Just like when he first brought you here, he wasn’t convinced of your words. He had tortured enough people at work to know when someone was upset, though quite frankly, he couldn’t care less about someone’s feelings.
With a sharp tug to the handcuffs leaving bruises on your skin, he pulled you closer.
“Are you thinking bad thoughts again, Роза?” He flicked your forehead. “We’d be happy to remove them for you.”
A threat. He was far more direct with his feelings than you were.
You shook your head, not interested in whatever make-shift lobotomy he had in store. “No, no bad thoughts.” You steeled your nerves as you continued, “I’m just thinking about you.”
That seemed to please him, at least. He twisted his fingers around your binds, leaving little space between the two of you.
“Я не уйду,” he said the phrase he told you over and over, eyes narrowed. “Say it.”
The very words that slowly melted you from the inside out. That he made you repeat so many times that you didn’t know anything other than the Russian he was teaching you. The final straw that sealed your fate long ago.
He told you the words meant ‘I love you.’ You weren’t so sure he was telling you the truth.
“Я не уйду.”
He laughed, the noise devoid of joy, gave you a rough pat on the head as a show of appreciation, then laid down in bed, bringing you down with him, not caring enough to undo your binds. The feeling of his flaccid cock pressed against your ass was a sharp reminder of what was yet to come. You doubted you could hold him off forever.
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delugyu · 4 months ago
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bg’s soundcheck outfit today drives me insane too… I have so many thoughts and none of them are holy 😣 I won’t say it out loud but my visions are vivid… innocent reader and possessive professor gyu, who cannot keep his eyes off of you. He won’t admit that he’s a pervert, but he can’t help it when you bend down to grab something and your panties caught his eyes. Maybe he can give you an extra lecture which ends up with him rubbing his dick on your pssy and you have no clue what’s going on but it just feels so good… Okay now I’m going to jail bonk!
FAWKKKK this is ruining me 😵‍💫 prof!gyu who wants to be professional and normal, but as soon as he gets home from work he’s fisting his cock thinking abt u.. he thinks about keeping u after class and bending you over one of the desks, flipping up ur skirt and spanking you until your legs are shaking.. it’s only fair that he should get to punish you; if you’re gonna keep coming to class so sinfully beautiful, he should show u what happens to pretty little girls who tempt their professors <3 he’ll stop once your whines get too pitiful, he’d soothe your skin with gentle hands, cooing at you and telling you how this is what had to happen, this is what you deserved. he imagines the way you’d jump when he presses a finger against your cunt through your panties, how wet you’d be just from a few spanks.
he feels his face flush every time you make eye contact with him. it’s bad enough trying to deal with his lust for you in a classroom with 70 students, but when you start coming to his office hours one-on-one, acting normal around you becomes impossible. you don’t even know how much you’re affecting him—you’re just sitting there with the prettiest smile on your face, listening to him try to sputter out the answers to your questions. you nod and bat your eyelashes as he speaks, and he can’t help but get distracted by your sweetness. you’re always so well-mannered, he knows you’d be the most obedient little thing for him. he’s immensely grateful for the desk that separates the two of you, otherwise he’d have to worry about you catching sight of the tent in his pants.
fuck, he’s awful. he should be fired. the moment you walk out of his office, he throws his head back and groans, contemplating just cancelling the rest of his hours for the day so he can go home already and jack off to the thought of you. he can picture you on your knees right now, sucking him off from under his desk while he sings praises to you. so good for me, aren’t you? i should just keep you forever, make your sweet cunt all mine. he’d brush your hair back and make sure you’re looking him in the eye as you suck his cock.
he holds his head in his hands. he’s screwed.
on his bad days, he thinks about treating you rough. you’d let him take out his anger on you, wouldn’t you? be his toy, let him use you until he’s all better. he’d hold your body right against his, your back to his chest, his hand on your throat, fucking into you mercilessly as he pants into your ear. you’d take it all so well. he knows he’s big, but your pussy was made for him, so he’d make all of it fit and fuck you until you start shaking in his arms. you would look so pretty when you’re trembling and weak. you’d whimper something pathetic, some sort of plea for mercy, and he’d have to kiss your sweet lips and tell you no. he can’t help it, you’d look so beautiful cumming for him, he’d have to get you off again and again. he’d watch his seed spill out of your spent cunt, watch your hole flutter as his cum drips out. you’re so pretty and delicious, he might even have to dive down and clean you up.
he has an especially bad day when he finds out you have a boyfriend. a boyfriend? are you fucking kidding? the minute you uttered that word to him, he wanted to push you up against the wall and yank your panties down. he wanted to pull your hair and fuck you hard. he wanted to be ruthless and mean, and he wanted to hurt you. he would make you cry and beg for forgiveness. he would make you promise to leave that stupid guy, to never talk to him again. beomgyu’s a real man, someone you could actually turn to and rely on. he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises, suck your neck until he leaves marks. he’d push you around, make you go delirious and stupid, fuck you until you’re pliant and agreeable. dumb baby, he hopes you learn from this.
but of course, beomgyu doesn’t do any of that. he can’t. he has a job to do and morals to keep up. that doesn’t stop him from giving you some honest advice, though. “have you considered, maybe your boyfriend’s the reason you’re struggling in class?”
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merakidoll · 2 years ago
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— age gap / best friend’s mom trope
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connie was guilty for many things. having a love for quick things, like the way of living, or money. he was guilty of having such an strong love for fast cars, and dying his hair. but he had never thought to add falling for his best friend’s mom on the list.
neither knew how they had grown to like one another other so much. how they grew desperate for each other’s company, or touches. even kisses, and god did they love that. they both had voices screaming to stop- how this would turn out to be a terrible situation. voices that told you the age gap was too much, he wasn’t ready for things that you were. but he always proved you wrong.
now you layed in a heart shaped bed, in the never sleeping Las Vegas where you both had just shared i do. one step closer to connie being adamant on filling you with his seed. his daughter.
“take s-some outuhhh!” you gritted through your teeth pushing at the tattooed abdomen. your cunt clenched around him, cream falling out of you at just the sight of the red ink tattoo with your name right where the thing that kept him living beat. “you got it. your a big girl mama” fully entering you with one stern pump, he sat still using the pad of his thumb and swiping your red lipstick lips before kissing you hard.
hunger was behind the kiss. it was so powerful that you couldn’t help but moan, his lips sucking on your tongue then pulling back quickly with heavy breaths. you two just started into each other eyes, no words but loving looks- all until connie abruptly put two fingers in your mouth and started to fuck you hard.
“s-suck em. show me how you suck on my dick” he watched your every move throwing his head back when your tongue swirled around the tattooed digets, spit dripping down his knuckles. “mmm just like fuckin that” he praised you, balls slapping against your ass and fingers going deeper into your mouth until her heard your gags.
the roughness did something to your body, it drove you wild so mucb that you began to bob your head, spit gather in the bands of your new commitment of till death do you part. “y-your mine, shit m-maaa!” you stared at how he was starting to slow down, his hips never stoping its speed but just growing sloppy from him being close.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head clenching around one good time before your squirt got all over connie. he was slowly losing the toughness, your pussy only getting wetter and tighter that he had to quickly romve his fingers and stuff his face into your neck, whining from how good everything was feeling.
his pierced - sensitive nipples rubbing against your hot skin making him sigh from shock. his cock let out ropes upon ropes of seamen, that was for sure impregnating you. while all of that was happening, your rubbed your now husband giving his soft loving kisses. so often containing a moan from how full you were feeling.
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