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#blushing potato
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no pets?
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Peppino: Sadly, no... I can't afford to take care of one currently, but I would love to have-a cat again. I had-a one when I was younger. He was a great cat, my best friend even. I named him Signore Farfalle. I could fall asleep in no time just-a by hearing his purr.
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Peppino: That's...that's pretty nice actually, when I think about it. The idea of hearing voices and talking to them was kind of freaky at first but...you had-a all been so nice so far. It feels comforting to always have someone close-a to speak with.
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Peppino: Ah, it does...mostly with the lack of physical contact. It sincerely would-a be nice to just get a hug or even just a pat on the back once in a while...
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andy-clutterbuck · 7 months
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Years - The Ones Who Live - 1x01
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thebigolbee · 1 year
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Mr. House coming in clutch with the tax evasion swag
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brought to grateful, happy tears by the mundane miracles of everyday life
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fightingthetides · 3 months
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This is a piece I commissioned for. Do not steal, do not edit, do not use, and do not repost. I was given permission to post this onto my blog. Okay to reblog.
Art by HeominIu from DeviantArt
Yamamoto Takeshi © Amano Akira
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gatorlovebot · 1 year
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thinking about puppy simon. nothing too specific but i bet he goes non verbal in puppy space. couldn’t tak even if he wanted to. but he doesn’t need to talk when you’re treating him so sweetly, scratching at his scalp, leaving little kisses across his cheeks <3
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boiling-potato · 1 year
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you can literally do the blush meter meme now with all the self insert blushing art you've made! :))
I can huh?
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pigwidgeondelux · 2 years
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the sweetest potatoes :)
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shardsofswords · 1 year
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Having ADHD and liking to cook is like "I have the recipe, ingredients, and ambition to cook this lovely complex but still homely dinner. Unfortunately it is 2 in the morning and I haven't eaten anything in 13 hours. So there is a 40% chance i wil either pass out or throw up."
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I'm so sorry to what I just did to my dash but HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?????????
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primofate · 6 months
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Drop the towel wrapped around you and appear naked in front of your Genshin husband
In a nutshell: That old tiktok challenge/prank. In your private, shared home of course.
Warnings: My perpetual warning as a writing mother is that I am sleep deprived. Very VERY sleep deprived. SUGGESTIVE: BORDERING ON NOT SAFE FOR WORK, written on a 10 minute timer please be gentle
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, implied fem!reader
Personal Favourites: Tighnari
Aether
chokes on nothing
"Y-Y-Y/N?! What're you doing?"
Comes up to you and tries to cover you up with the towel again, as if it was a sin to look at you naked in broad daylight.
Full on blush on his face and respectfully tries to look away.
"Don't surprise me like that!"
Seems not to like it but actually likes it too much to the point of getting embarrassed for himself.
Yes he's your husband but is still a precious respectful man
Albedo
Blinks a couple of times but appreciates your beauty and gives your body a slow once over. Chuckles in amusement afterwards.
"Is there a reason for this?"
Just to get his reaction, you admit.
"Well..." starts walking towards you. "I do have higher self-control than most others... but let it be known that I'm far from immune to my..."
Stops in front of you and yet again seems to eat you up with his eyes. "...needs," ends with a suspiciously sweet smile.
Alhaitham
Can't help but be a bit surprised and you can see it by the way his eyebrows go up as soon as the towel hits the floor.
Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, as if hesitating, which is really strange for someone like him.
"...Is this the part where I sweep you off your feet and carry you to our room?" there's a bit of amusement in his tone. Stands to walk over to you.
Places a hand on your waist.
"Cause I can guarantee you that we DON'T need to be in our bedroom for things to happen...but you knew that already, right?"
Ayato
Quirks his eyebrows up, amused smile appearing on his face.
"I must say, this is a lovely surprise,"
Traces your figure with his eyes. Then approaches you to hold your waist and dip in to kiss your neck softly.
"How could I ever resist, my love, when you're standing in front of me in all your magnificence?"
Takes the longest time just admiring and basking in your beauty, tracing every little part of your skin.
Baizhu
Lets pretend the snake ain't here okay?
Does a double take.
"Y/N, first off, you'll get a cold,"
Pushes his spectacles up and gives you a once over.
"Second, you'll give me a heart attack,"
Beckons you over gently with his hand. "Come over, I suppose it's been a while since...I've done a full body check,"
Hides a grin.
Cyno
Blankly looks at you and is still processing what is happening
"Y/N? Is this... Did I do something?"
Is so suspicious that this was some kind of trap.
You tell him its simply to get a reaction out of him.
Immediately shoots out of his seat and catches your wrist.
"Then...Is it my turn to get one out of you? There's several ways to do that...and I know your favourite ones,"
Diluc
Eyes follow the towel down to the floor and head snaps back up to blink at the sight in front of him. Recovers quickly.
Chuckles as he stands and walks over. Picks up the towel and drapes it around your shoulders. "Only because it's quite chilly tonight,"
but still ends up inching the towel off your shoulder, tracing your collarbone. "Although, as your husband, I suppose it IS my job to keep you warm... So how would you like it today, love?"
Itto
"WHOA!" by instinct covers his eyes with his hands but his fingers are actually splayed apart so he can totally see through the gaps
Feels himself getting aroused
I mean the guy gets turned on even just at the sight of your neck
Suddenly stands and walks over to you, easily hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and makes a beeline to your shared room.
"You're asking for it Y/N!"
Kaeya
"Oho?"
Sits back and relaxes, he doesn't really know what he was expecting. Some type of show maybe. "What's this? Finally giving me that lap dance you owe me, snowflake?"
Laughs but you're incredibly flustered at the suggestion.
Beckons you over and grabs you by the waist to sit on his lap.
"Feel that?" he whispers in your ear.
Oh you feel it alright, pressing at your upper thigh.
"Now whose fault is that? You'll have to do something about it now, love,"
Kaveh
"Archons!"
Looks away with a blush on his cheeks.
"Put something on!"
Yes he's seen you naked before, you're married, but the guy's always flustered in unexpected events.
You provoke him further by coming over, sitting sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Y/N!" He looks down at you and can't help but look at your nakedness in full and close view.
Gulps but starts to feel his body heat up, his hands suddenly, assertively planting themselves on your waist as he meets your eyes. "I don't care what you say about yourself, but know that you're the only one who takes me from 0 to a 100 in a second,"
Kazuha
"Y/N?" Chuckles nervously and takes in the sight of your body.
Smiles at you and takes your hand to kiss the back of it.
"I've seen you countless of times... Each time, I'm reminded by how fortunate I am that you chose me to take care of you,"
Caresses your cheek all the way down to your jawline. "You're beautiful, Y/N,"
He has the most tender and gentle look on his face, but its mixed with a passion that you've never seen on anyone before. "Let me show you how much I love you, dear,"
Neuvillette
Eyebrows twitches upwards in surprise. Has no clue what to do in this new situation.
He doesn't say anything but is most definitely enjoying the view of your body. You see his jaw tense up, as if he's clenching his teeth.
"Ahem," he starts. Then seems to have the most trouble prying his eyes away to meet your gaze. "Is this...perhaps another way to tell me... that you would like some attention?"
You say not really and just wanted to see how he would react.
"Ah," he lets out, as if understanding and as if the conversation has ended.
A moment of silence passes and you're starting to wonder if that was all he was going to do. But he then stands and places a gentle hand on your bare waist. "...So you're simply doing it, as people would say, 'for fun'?"
He asks, and you say yes innocently. He smiles a bit and has another hand cupping your face and thumbing your lips. "I see," breathes out slowly.
"Unfortunately, for your actions, the Iudex feels that a punishment is in order,"
Scaramouche
Raises one eyebrow as if he's bored. Then smirks.
"If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask," pulls you by the waist and makes you straddle him "But this is good too,"
Hands actually start to grope you up and down. Will fondle and squeeze in private places immediately.
"What? Startin' to feel good? S'what you get when you play games with me,"
will smack your butt the first chance he gets
Tartaglia
Immediately jumps up and in an automatic daze, eyes glued to his favourite parts, trudges towards you and attempts to bury himself in softness.
You quickly stop him and in turn HE quickly stops you. Hands easily bunching your wrists up together and angling them upwards above your head.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins down at you. "Someone's being naughty,"
You complain that he reacts too fast.
Laughs, but his hand starts to unbuckle his pants and there's a dark look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm just being naughty back. When you want something, Y/N, believe it when I say I'll GIVE it to you,"
Tighnari
ear twitches. Tail swishes back and forth. Does not show any expression except slight curiosity.
"What's the occasion?"
You tell him that you just wanted to see his reaction.
He hums and nods slowly, like processing some type of complicated information.
"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute,"
You ask him where he's going and you're a bit upset at the lack of response from him.
He chuckles and returns to you, tail angling upwards in an attempt to wrap and brush against your waist. Takes your hand, presses your wrist against his lips and seems to take a slow breath in.
"I'm merely clearing off my schedule for today. Now, be patient, I'll be back,"
Wriothesley
Almost spits out his drink but gulps it all down instead.
Eyes widen a fraction at the sudden act but his hand is already loosening his tie.
"Wait right there precious," chuckles while he says this, tie already falling to the ground, now unbuttoning his vest. At the same time walks over to you urgently as if you're going to disappear but laughs nervously while he's at it.
"I swear you'll be the death of me,"
Looks like he's going to pounce on you but when he reaches you he only gives you a chaste kiss, as if asking for permission first.
You suddenly remind him that he has a LOT of things to do today, appointments and all.
Actually barks out a quick laugh. "You're not really expecting me to walk out now? As far as I'm concerned," pulls you flush against him and kisses your jaw "The only thing I need to do today is you,"
Xiao
"Wh-Wh-What do you think you're doing?!"
caught unprepared. Crosses his arms and looks away. Pretends he's uninterested but his eyes still dart back to look at you.
You ask him if he likes what he sees.
He now completely looks away from you. A few seconds pass and when he turns his head back to look at you there's now a carnal look in his eyes.
He walks towards you slowly and captures your chin to tilt it up. Looks down at you as if he hasn't eaten a meal in days.
"...When I'm done with you tonight you'll get your answer,"
Zhongli
Chuckles. Amused.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"
You shrug and even do a turn for him. He watches you carefully and takes in the image in front of him.
Smiles and strides over towards you. "Truly a magnificent sight," brushes his fingers against your neck
His eyes trail downwards and isn't shy about looking at your body. "Might I remind you my dear, my stamina surpasses that of a normal human," he smiles at you sincerely.
You tell him that you're well aware. He just chuckles again.
"Then you know well what'll come next,"
End
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bpmiranda · 24 days
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Can I request lumberjack Logan and Farmer’s daughter reader sneaking into the barn with Logan. 🙈
Like Animals (Logan Howlett) nsfw
A/N: lumberjack!logan x farmer’s daughter!reader, age gap, gagging, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, reader is 18+
Helping to tend a farm was easy when there was a routine to follow. Routines were good, they made you feel confident and in control. Never stray from your routine, and everything will work out as it usually does. That’s what you lived by, until your dad hired a lumberjack to help him build a new smokehouse.
His name was Logan and he was so very attractive. You couldn’t possibly focus on your tasks with him wielding that ax, the sunlight catching off his toned, rippled body. You and your friends would hurry back to the farm after class just to giggle and watch him from afar as he cut down the lumber, most of the times while he was shirtless. “Good Lord,” Your friend sighed dreamily as you were watching from the porch drinking lemonade. “You’re so lucky.”
“Aren’t I?” You beam, biting your lip as you see him stand and stretch out to take a break. “Wait right here, I’ll be back.” You say quickly as you refill your glass with lemonade from the pitcher and your friends stifle their giggles as you walk over to the tired, sweaty lumberjack.
It’s ridiculous how the sun glistens off his sweaty muscles, making him glow like a god, and it’s hard to keep your mind focused. “Is that for me?” He asks with a charming grin as you approach him with a blush on your cheeks. You nod slowly, big eyes staring up at him as he thanks you for the lemonade and proceeds to down it. “Lord, that’s delicious. Did you make it?” He asks.
You take the glass back from him, trace the rim with your index finger, and stick it between your lips to suck softly. “I did. I use a little blueberry syrup.” You say with a smile. Logan’s watching that index finger still tracing your bottom lip and he grins, shaking his head lightly.
“You oughta get back to your friends, little lady.” He winks as he picks up his ax again and you bound happily back to your group of girls who squeal as you return and bombard you with questions.
While you know it’s inappropriate, and your father has warned you that Logan’s not to be distracted, you can’t help yourself. It’s so fun to mess around with him, make him flustered with the attention you give him because you know he doesn’t want your father to find out and fire him. You don’t want that either. And while Logan’s too much of a gentleman to come onto you, you’re not a stranger to putting in work to get what you want. The smokehouse will be done soon and he’ll move on to wherever they need him next, so you play on the wonderful trait that is your family’s Southern hospitality.
“Dad, we should invite Logan to eat dinner with us tonight. You know, as a thank you for helping us with the smokehouse.” You bring up one afternoon as you’re helping your mother prepare dinner in the kitchen.
Your dad gives you a look as your mother turns and claps her hands cheerily. “Oh, what a wonderful idea! Let’s do that, dear.” She agrees, wringing her hands on her apron as she starts collecting extra potatoes and tells you to grab an extra plate setting.
You smile sheepishly as your dad grumbles a ‘guess I’ll go invite him then’ and you’re quick to hurry to your bedroom to get ready for dinner. You knew you had been saving that little blue dress for a special occasion, and this was it. The white lace along the sweetheart neckline makes it give you a dainty look and you smooth the tulip sleeves down before stepping back into your brown boots.
Logan’s downstairs sitting at the kitchen table with your dad as your mom’s setting the food down in front of them. You smile sweetly at him as you go to help her, not interrupting their conversation although you notice the look in his eyes when they fall on your mid-thigh length dress. Dinner is as pleasant as it can be, your parents sit next to each other with your dad at the head of the table and you next to your mom. Logan sits on the other side of your dad and you keep sneaking looks at him, biting your lip when he looks at you and turning to your plate shyly, or pretending to be which he to finds amusing.
After dinner, your mom insists that Logan stay the night because it is far too late for him to drive home and your dad agrees. They have you set him up in the guest room with blankets and towels and as you’re fixing up the bed for him, he’s watching at a respectful distance from the other side of the room. “You scared of me, Logan?” You asked with a sweet smile as you stand up straight and clasp your hands in front of you. Logan smirks and shakes his head. “Why’re you so far away? I don’t have cooties.” You tease as you lightly sway in your dress.
“Because I think I know what you’re doin’, darlin’,” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as he takes in the sight of you so sweet and dainty. “And I don’t wanna get us caught by your father who has kindly invited me into his home.”
You purse your lips in thought, taking a few steps closer to him as he’s leaning against the bureau with an easy smile, unfazed by the way you approach him. “We could sneak into the barn.” You suggest with a playful smile, biting your lip as his nostrils flare and his arms cross over the chest. “No one would hear us or see us. We’d be all alone.” You tried sweetly as you placed a hand on his forearm and Logan shook his head. With a fake, defeated sigh, you shrug. “Okay, well, I’ll be down in the barn all alone if you change your mind.”
Logan grabs your arm as you’re turning to leave and you look up at him, wide eyed and your heart beating fast. “Don’t do this.” He says in a warning tone.
“Do what?” You ask innocently, turning to him as you press your chest into his and you stand on your toes to kiss him. Logan knows he shouldn’t, but it’s so easy for him to give in when you’re moaning against his lips and touching his chest eagerly. His hands find your waist and he holds you tight against him, slipping his tongue into your mouth only to quickly pull away as he hears footsteps before you do.
You only realize he has stepped away from you and towards the bed as the bedroom door opens and your mom’s urging you to hurry up so Logan can get some sleep. You wish Logan a goodnight as you back out of the room, point to your wrist, and hold up ten fingers. Logan winks at you and you close his door.
After you wait for your parents to fall asleep, you sneak out of your room to find Logan doing the same. You grin at each other and he takes you by the hand as he quietly leads you out of the house and to the barn.
Once inside, Logan’s got you pinned up to a load bearing post, kissing you hard as he holds your face in his large hands. You tug and pull on his flannel, moaning as his hard cock is pressing against your lower belly. “Does your daddy know how sneaky his daughter is?” Logan teases after he helps you pull off his flannel and you’re undoing his belt buckle.
“You think this is my first time?” You tease back and a darkness takes over Logan’s eyes before he roughly spins you around and makes you hold onto the wooden post. You grin to yourself as he’s lifting your dress up and he kneels down behind you. Logan gives you a single hard spank and you gasp, your legs tremble lightly, and he does it again making you moan this time. “Oh, Logan,” Another spank and you cry out, “Fuck!”
“Hold on tight to that post, little lady.” He tells you as he rips your lace panties off before he’s burying his face into your warm, wet cunt. You wrap your arms around the load bearing structure, hands clutching to it tightly above you as your head rolls back from the pleasure of his tongue and teeth devouring and torturing your womanhood. His hands have your dress bunched up over the swell of your ass and he’s squeezing your cheeks hard, groaning and mumbling how good you taste into your core. The vibrations make you tremble with want of a release and he can feel it. “Not yet, darlin’,” He says as he stands up behind you suddenly and fishes his cock out of his pants. “Wanna feel that little pussy get me wet.”
Your eyes sting with hot tears as he is ruthless with how he enters you, and you realize that the way you put on your innocent charade, he very well could have put on the gentlemanly act. There’s no way a gentleman could fuck like this, but definitely a lumberjack. Logan has both hands on your hips, guiding you along his hard shaft with ease and your shaking, whimpering as he’s fucking you so languidly, grunting and humming in approval while you’re losing control. “Oh, damn it, Logan!” You cry as your thighs tremble with the force of your orgasm and he only continues, his fingers digging deeply into the flesh of your ass while he’s as still and strong as an oak tree behind you.
“Got the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in.” He growls into your ear, his firm chest pressed against your back as he’s rutting deep into you.
You can feel his cock throb warningly, your fingernails dig into the aged wood of the post you’re desperately clinging to, and you choke on your words making them tumble out between cries and moans, “I - I - uh - I’m not on - any - uh - not inside.” You cry out and he only moves you down onto the barn floor so you’re lying on your back. He’s quick to shove himself right back into your small cunt and he stuffs your mouth with your ripped lace panties, covering your lips with his hand so you can’t spit them out, and he pounds hard into you. He might not be your first, but he wants to corrupt the sweet little farmer’s daughter anyway.
“I’ll get you a pill in the mornin’,” He groans, determined to finish and determined to finish inside your warm, squelching, young pussy. “Feels too good to quit, darlin’.” Logan grunts as his head leans back and he suddenly shooting his load inside you. His chest flexes from the force of his release and you moan at the feeling of being so stuffed by him. Your eyes shut tightly as he swells inside you, milking himself of every drop before he pulls out and drops his forehead to rest against yours.
“You’re an animal.” You tease as he’s kissing your neck and your chest. Your hands caress his head and you rake your fingers through his hair slowly, enjoying the warmth and heft of his body over yours.
Logan laughs, thinking ‘if you only knew,’ before helping you up off the floor and picking loose hay out of your hair. “It’s a good thing we’re in a barn then.”
I am so happy you asked for this one! I enjoyed writing it very much:) Let me know what you think!
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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months
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dealer - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 211
"So, James," Euphemia Potter said warmly, spooning mashed potatoes on her plate. "We heard you have a new paramour."
The entire table, save Effie and Monty, froze. "I...erm..." James stuttered, looking around nervously.
"Oh!" Monty grinned, sending a wink to Sirius. "You're blushing, Jamie! Is it serious?"
"Is it, James?" Regulus piped up, smirking.
Because that was the problem. James wasn't hiding his relationship because he was dating someone unsavory, like a drug dealer or a murderer.
He was dating Regulus.
"Go on," Sirius pushed, holding back laughter as well. "Is it serious?"
Of course, he wasn't embarrassed at all. But since Regulus was staying with them, both he and Regulus were nervous that James's parents would be a bit weird about it. So he was stuck between a rock and a hard place at the moment. But he also wasn't one to hide his feelings.
"Yes," he cleared his throat, trying to calm his nerves. "Very, I'd say."
And whatever Regulus and Sirius had been expecting, it hadn't been that. Because Sirius smiled, an approving look in his eyes, while Regulus turned bright red, his lips flickering up into a soft grin, eyes trained to his plate.
"He's lucky, then," Regulus murmured softly. And all James could do was smile.
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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months
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Yandere 7k Special:
With This Love of Mine
Yandere Crossdressing Duchess x Marquess Reader
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The day your father announced (your name)’ engagement to Duke Claymoore, she was horrified. The young Duke had risen to power from killing all of his siblings and even his father to become the head of the family… Duke Claymoore was a tyrant.
“But father, he’s a tyrant! A madman-“ (Your name)’s head was thrown to the side when her stepmother slapped her across the face. Jezebeth’s face twisted with disdain. A face (your name) was all too familiar with since childhood.
“This is for your own good. No other man would want to be with a wild woman like you.” And whose fault was that?! (Your name had wanted to screech at the treacherous woman that stood confidently before her. Jezebeth had destroyed (your name)‘s reputation by spreading false rumors of her having a love affair with her childhood friend… her commoner childhood friend, Claudia.
“Perhaps the Duke will straighten out your brazenness.” Marquis (last name) sighed in defeat, the portly man pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “He will be here to fetch you this afternoon, so I recommend you clean yourself up to be more… presentable.”
(Your name) but her lip and cast her gaze to the floor. She never had her father in her corner so why would this sudden engagement change his coal black heart? The Marquis was only interested in more power and if that meant marrying off his only daughter, then he’d do it… an action that (your name) would never forgive until the day she died.
“Fine, but don’t you ever forget what date you had succumbed me to. For I will never land you a hand in your time of peril, even if you beg me.” (Your name) then grasped her blush colored skirts and rushed from the room so her stepmother didn’t see the tears that fell from her eyes. The young marquess didn’t want her ‘family’ to witness any more of her weakness.
“I’m sorry (your name)…” Marquis (Last name) muttered under her breath. “I’m so sorry.”
.
.
.
(Your name) swallowed the lump in her throat when her fiancé stood before her. He was a massive man, of mostly muscle, that stood at almost seven feet tall. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, but his neat hair did little to tame the wildness behind those ruby red eyes.
(Your name) gulped at all the scars that riddled his face. She couldn’t imagine the ones that littered his body since he was wearing long sleeves, but she caught a glimpse of some burn scars on his neck. This man was terrifying… and she had to marry him.
“I’m here for my wife.” Duke Claymoore’s voice was low and raspy, as if he hadn’t spoke in a millennium.
“Oh, I hope her appearance isn’t embarrassing-“ The Duke slammed his shoulder into Jezebeth’s shoulder before he stood in front of (your name). His ruby red eyes studied her expression in wonder.
“I’ve come to take you home, (your name).” (Your name)’s face scrunched up in confusion at the Duke’s words. How did he know her name? She had never debuted in society since her stepmother had torn her reputation into tatters and she only had one friend up until their sudden disappearance.
“Home- oh!” (Your name) squeaked when the Duke threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Was he some sort of unsophisticated barbarian?! Why on earth would he carry her like this?!
There was only one person that had ever handled her in such a way but she had lost Claudia in a fire so many moons ago… plus this was a man that picked her up and not a woman…
The Duke chuckled when (your name) began to struggle. The giant man shifted her body around so that she now was in a proper bridal hold. His chapped lips pulled up into a soft smile that only made the large scar across them even more intimidating. (Your name)’s fiancé was terrifying…
“I’m taking my wife home. My men have the dowry money in my carriage.”
The Duke ignored the interjection of the Marquess and his wife and instead rushed (your name) to his dark carriage. His grasp was inescapable from how tight it was, his palms dug into her flesh like a pair of ticks. It made (your name) feel even more trapped.
She was gently placed into the carriage before the Duke crawled in beside her. His large, gloved hand slammed the door shut on her father’s face, the Duke grinned as he signaled the carriage driver to leave.
(Your name) could only watch out the window as her father’s portly body attempted to give chase, her brows furrowed in confusion on why the old man would even try to catch up to a horse drawn carriage.
“Your stepmother made jokes within the social circles that you were only worth a single gold coin so that’s all I gave him.” (Your name) jumped when she felt the Duke whisper in her ear, the young woman recoiled into herself.
“W-what?”
“They don’t deserve anything more than a single gold coin.” Duke Claymoore pressed a chaste kiss to (your name)’s cheek. “You’ll never have to be around them ever again. It can be just you and me… like it was always meant to!”
(Your name) furrowed her brow in confusion at the Duke who seemed so suddenly chipper. Just her and him? She has never met this man before in her life!
“I’m sorry, but have we met-“ a beat up locket was suddenly thrust in her face which sent (your name) into even more confusion. This locker belong to Claudia… but Claudia had died almost five years ago.
“I didn’t think I’d pass so much for a man.” The Duke chuckled as he ran his hands through his pulled back hair. His raspy voice a bit shaky, “it’s me, (your name). It’s Claudia.”
“Claudia?!” (Your name) gasped, her eyes nearly bulged out of her head in shock. Claudia… was a man?! No…
(Your name) blushed when Claudia guided (your name)’s hands towards her chest. (Your name) was shocked to find the softest bit of flesh around those muscles.
“I had to train my body to the point bones snapped and I’d throw up, but it was all worth it! I have power and money now, I could easily eliminate our enemies!” Claudia beamed at (your name), her ruby red eyes filled with so much love. “My family tried to kill me since I was an illegitimate child to the Claymoore Dukedom. Who would have thought an orphan like me had noble blood?”
“Claudia, I was so worried about you… this is a lot to process.”
(Your name)’s cheeks were then cupped by Claudia’s calloused palms. The Duchess bent down to press a tender kiss to (your name)’s nose.
“I’m so sorry for pretending I died in that fire all these years ago. I saw it as an opportunity to gain power and influence to protect you.” Claudia’s face was merely inches apart from (your name)’s, their breaths mingled. “You don’t know how happy I was when I heard about how much you loved me…”
Love? Did Claudia believe the rumors (your name)’s mother had started?
“Claudia, I-“ Claudia pressed her chapped lips against (your name)’s in a searing kiss. One of her hands tangled in (your name)’s hair whip the other grasped her hip to pull her closer.
“Shh. You don’t need to say anything, I know you love me too.” Claudia peppered (your name)’s face with more kisses. “I’m so happy you accept this love of mine…”
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fushiguho · 3 months
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The Homemaker & Her Husband ☆ Nanami Kento
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☆ WORD COUNT – 7.3k ☆ SYNOPSIS – You’ve been a good wife, really. Fulfilling your role as a homemaker and completing your responsibilities of cooking and cleaning for your overworked husband so that he can provide for his beloved missus. But what happens when one evening after preparing a feast for Nanami, he arrives late and now dinner is ruined… will you let him make it up to you? ☆ CONTENT WARNINGS – Nanami x fem!reader, shameless smut, married couple, traditional gender roles, creampie, impregnation, mentions of femininity, reader is a housewife
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*: ☆。・:*:・゚
A sigh of contentment fell from your lips as you placed a warm pan of rolls on the table, completing the feast you’ve prepared for you and your husband. It was the final—and most crucial—piece of the divine spread you’ve spent the last three hours prepping and crafting. You closed your eyes before inhaling once, reveling in the aroma of your hard work. You could nearly drool at the heavenly combination of piquant and saccharine flavors, all beautifully arranged on a frilly, sage green tablecloth. You had it all; smothered pork chops on a bed of fluffy mashed potatoes, roasted cauliflower with tahini, homemade buttered rolls, and a New York style cheesecake with strawberry sauce dribbling down the sides.
There was no occasion. No rhyme or reason. There doesn’t need to be. Some days you just wanted to wear a smooth, satin slip dress, paired with the most beautiful diamonds and a gracious heart. Some days you just wanted to prepare a fulfilling meal for your husband to come home to after a long, tiring day at work. And some days you wish that just maybe, society would stop frowning upon the women that take pride in their love for their husband.
When did it become a crime to be comfortable in your divine femininity?
What is so god awful about wanting to be a caregiver? What if it’s divine intuition or fate? What if it’s just the way it ought to be? You aren’t sure, not really. All you know was that you enjoy taking care of the people you love, you always have. Maybe it’s the swell of your heart when he thanks you for taking care of the house while he’s away. Or the smile that mars his face when he comes home to a spotless kitchen and a carefully constructed supper as you prance to embrace him in a hug. Or it could even be the way he really thanks you when the night is said and done and he’s splitting you apart with his cock and fingers.
Soft, bossa nova jazz thrummed through the speakers of the radio that sat atop the fridge. You hummed to yourself as you swayed your hips. The window just above the sink sat open, soft linen curtains dancing in a duet with the wind. It was warm and it smelled of healthy grass and memories to be had. And oh how you missed him dearly, you could die.
You smiled to yourself as you dusted your hands on the front of your plaid apron before swiping your pager off the counter. With quick, nimble fingers, you began to message your husband, letting him know that the door is unlocked and you’ll be waiting for him at the table. He always knows when you’re making a special dinner for him because it’s he who does the grocery shopping, so it isn't ever truly a surprise. Nanami hates surprises anyway.
You undid the bow at the back of your apron before peeling it off and hanging it on its designated hook. With two hands, you smoothed the satin of your cream colored dress, the one that Nanami swore hugged your hips a little too tightly. You washed your hands before skipping upstairs with a girlish smile, the soft hum of bossa nova ebbing as you neared your shared bedroom.
Diligently, you touched up your frazzled hair and makeup. With swaying feet, you smiled in the mirror of your vanity, patting your cheeks with blush just the way he likes. Nanami loves when you doll yourself up for him. He loves the sweet, gourmand perfume you’d put directly behind your ears, the one he swears smells like raspberries and vanilla. He also loves the pretty, sheer lipgloss that adorned your lips, accentuating the dip of your cupid's bow. And oh how he loves when you’d saunter toward him in that bewitched dress with a soft smile playing your glossed lips.
You could hardly wait as you rushed back downstairs, plopping yourself into a chair at the dining table. Impatiently, you waited. With your elbows on the table and your chin resting in the palms of your hands, you eyed the food before you. You flitted your eyes between the front door and the hardwick clock on the counter. Any second now, you thought.
You could no longer hear the thrum of music, far too engrossed in the passage of time. The clock’s golden pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And as time does, it went on. The pendulum continued to swing and time continued to pass and soon, seconds would turn into minutes and minutes into hours.
He’s late.
Now, you sat on the couch, your right knee bouncing restlessly as your arms sat crossed over your chest. You were upset, maybe even beyond it. Disappointed maybe. An irritated sigh fell from your lips. Slowly, you dragged your bare toes along the shag rug on the floor. It’s late and you’ve already paged Nanami four times in the last hour to no avail.
With a huff, you pushed yourself up from the couch before making your way to the kitchen. You began to clear the table of the room temperature food, angrily packing everything away into tupperwares. The sound of the front door opening then closing startled you, pausing your angered movements. The floorboards creaked with the familiar clomp of his leather penny loafers as he neared the kitchen.
“My love, I’m home. I’m so sorry I’m late.” He apologized as he emerged in the arched doorway of the kitchen while simultaneously slipping his suit jacket off his arms and hanging it from the coat rack.
You said nothing as you continued to clean the table, your shoulder cold as you ignored his presence.
Nanami sighed, “You cooked all this for me, baby?” His heart ached in his chest.
“What does it matter? It’s cold anyway.” You cut, your voice sharp and daggered.
Nanami nodded deservedly. Immediately, he sees your anger, acknowledges it, accepts it. He could almost feel the warmth of your seething rage. Warily, he stepped closer to you, his arms open in embrace, but you turned away, shuffling to the opposite end of the table to collect the remaining food.
“Baby,” He frowned, “forgive me. I stayed out late tonight to tie up some loose ends. Satoru called out and I lost track of time.” He explained.
Still, you scoffed.
“But I’m here now and this food looks delicious.” He commended, “Did you eat?”
“I paged you five fucking times. You could’ve called.” You huffed, ignoring his concern.
He dropped his head in shame. He truly was sorry and you knew it. Nanami is sincere. He’s genuine and unfeigned and candid, but he tends to throw himself at his work, muddling the line between it and home. You really can’t fault him for taking pride in what he does, but God, do you wish he’d find a healthy balance between the two.
“Baby, what can I do, hm?” He hummed, “To make it up to you?”
He followed you around the kitchen, his heavy footfalls not far behind. You could feel his warmth as he stood beside you and you could smell what’s left of the cologne he spritzed on his suit this morning. It was then that you finally looked up at him, silently registering his post-work mien. His tapered, blonde hair danced in every which way, loose strands adorning his forehead. His brows furrowed with remorse while his tired eyes pleaded for absolution, begging for your forgiveness like a sinner in church.
Slowly, he sank to his knees before you, his intense gaze never never faltering. You rolled your eyes in disbelief as you turned away. Nanami reached for your hand, pulling you back to him. Before you had the chance to pull away, Nanami dipped his head to plant a chaste kiss to the back of your hand before turning it over and kissing your palm. He continued, leaving several kisses along the expanse of your hand and wrist.
“Look baby, I’m on my knees for you.” He admitted. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll do anything… you know I will.”
Nanami was releasing your hand to kiss your legs instead. He trailed sweet, fleeting kisses up and down your shins before gently bunching up the hem of your dress to expose your thighs. He kissed there too, humming and inhaling your scent as he wrapped his arms around the back of your knees, pulling you closer.
His heart ached with contrition as he begged for your pardon, so distraught by his foolishness. Frankly, Nanami yearned not only for you, but your approval as well. It was something he’d go to great lengths to obtain. What is he worthy of if not your mercy? Your validation?
“What is it you want?” He mumbled between kisses, determined to rectify his wrongdoing and put a smile on his pretty girl’s face.
You could feel the slam of your heart against your chest as you looked down at him, his pleading eyes beckoning you to relinquish your anger and find reprieve in him instead. He whispered sweet nothings against your skin—small I love yous and honeyed words of praise. And surely, all the resolve you once had was long gone, swept up and blown out the window, never to be seen again.
The poor lace of your white panties cried in your arousal as your stomach flipped with excitement. The subtle clench of your thighs wouldn’t go unnoticed. You could feel the curl of an all-knowing grin against your skin. “I know you want something.” He whispered. It’s quiet, barely audible, but God, did you hear him.
You bit your inner cheek, contemplative in silence. If you know Nanami at all, you know he never allows you to go to bed angry. It’s one thing he won’t tolerate. He’s made it his personal mission to send you to bed with a smile on that pretty face of yours every night.
“Want me to take care of you tonight?” He breathed, his eyes searching for yours, “Show you how grateful I am for all that you do? Show you just how much I need you… how much you mean to me? Will you let me show you, my love?”
You can't stay mad at him nor could you deny yourself pleasure. How could you? He’s on his knees for you, begging at your feet for forgiveness like an atheist on judgment day. He loves you dearly and he won’t rest until he rights his wrongs. So you really can’t help it when you slowly nod to him, accepting his enticing offer.
A breathy laugh of relief fell from his lips, “Yeah? You’ll let me show you?” He grinned.
You nodded again, reaching out a hand for him. The gracious smile that marred his lips was peerless, almost as if his sole purpose in life is to demonstrate his love and appreciation for you. He eventually rose to his feet, towering above you before taking your hand and silently leading you to the living room. You followed closely as you desperately fought the grin trying to kiss your lips.
Nanami situated himself on the couch, his legs spreading naturally. The striped fabric of his trousers warped with the slow adjustment of his hips, the subtle bulge of his cock resting so prettily in his lap. He looked up at you as he sat quietly, the heat of his stare turning you into a puddle of nothingness before him. How could someone say so much, yet nothing at all? You understand him completely—his intentions, his determination, his carnal desire.
He jerked his head lightly, motioning you to him or rather on him.
Like a moth to flame, you were immensely drawn to him, deeply, uncontrollably. You hardly noticed the shuffle of your feet as you neared him before leaning down to fixate yourself on his lap. A shared breath of relief fell from your lips as they hovered mere centimeters apart. You couldn't hide the small grin that crept on your face. Nanami returned the smile, his much larger and dopey, but his eyes saddened.
“You even got all dolled up for me.” He commented, taking notice of your glossed lips and rosy cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby.” He frowned like before, as if he’s still haunted by his guilty conscience.
You shrugged, “It’s okay.” It comes out as a small whisper. You’re not even sure if you believe yourself. Nanami certainly doesn't, which is why he shook his head in disagreement.
“It’s not. I should have called,” He admitted as his hand reached for your face, cupping your warm cheek in his palm. You leaned into his touch, nodding slowly, wordlessly agreeing. “But m’gonna make it up to you.” He promised.
He was then leaning closer to push his lips onto yours, finally closing the aching distance. You kissed him back promptly, sighing against his mouth as you relaxed into his touch. He wasn’t modest as he kissed you hungrily, your nose pushing against his while you breathed into his mouth. Nanami hummed in satisfaction as he sloppily tasted your mouth. Your lips were so sweet and delicious, so perfectly shaped and carefully glossed.
Soon, you could feel the graze of his tongue along your bottom lip, silently begging for more to which you obliged, granting him access to your willing mouth. You allowed him to taste you from the inside, desperate to feel his tongue exploring your wet mouth. Even the subtle exchange of saliva had your hips stuttering as you sat on his lap.
Nanami’s hands were gripping the fat of your hips, his long fingers splayed along the flesh. The hem of your dress slowly bunched at your waist, exposing the pretty lace of your sheer panties. You couldn’t help the gape of your lips when you gasped at his cock pressing firmly against your clothed cunt. He pushed your hips against him, rocking you back and forth along his growing erection. The friction made you completely dizzy.
You couldn’t help the whiny moans that tumbled past your lips and into his mouth, your sweet voice going straight to his cock as he swallowed your saccharine whimpers. A cry left your lips at the feeling of him bucking his hips forward, further pushing himself against the lace of your underwear. And God, how you were so wet and bothered. Nanami fucking loved when you’d get like this. He swore he could feel your wetness seeping through the fabric of his trousers.
“Always been so sensitive.” He hummed.
His comment had your cheeks burning with crimson. It never took long for you to fall apart like this. He’s hardly touched you and you could already feel yourself unraveling like cheap thread. You crave him like you crave water and oxygen, as if you’d simply die from the sheer lack of him and he could tell. He could always tell.
“M’so grateful for you y’know.” He smiled drunkenly, reminding you of his gratitude, “So pretty ‘n sweet… always takin’ such good care of me.” He continued, dropping his head to kiss your neck softly.
You hummed in agreement, craning your head to the side, granting him more access to the receptive flesh. Nanami’s hands began to slide up your torso and beneath your dress. His warm grip was tight and familiar. He pulled you impossibly close, your chest pressed against his and now your dress was bunched up just below the curve of your breasts.
Nanami brought his gaze up to meet yours, silently begging to take off your dress to which you nodded. You held your arms up for him, allowing him to gather the cream fabric in his hands before pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. He smiled. Nanami loved when you’d opt for not wearing a bra, in fact, he encouraged it and wouldn't have it any other way. He loved that he could make out the shape of your breasts at any given moment. He even loved the prod of your nipples against the fabric of your blouses.
He wasted no time as he was bowing his head to slip one of your nipples into his mouth while his hands worked to push the fat of your breasts together. A trail of hot, openmouthed kisses littered your chest. He hummed in bliss as he tasted your skin. He was nothing but insatiable as he swapped back and forth between your tits, ran his tongue through the valley of your chest, and slipped both of your sweet nipples into his mouth.
Fuck, you could cum right here, just like this, and he knew it of course. The warm press of his cock against your poor pussy while his hot mouth drooled on your tits was pure torture. You were practically putty in his hands—beautiful and completely ruined by him and for him only. You lolled your head back as you bucked your hips, wanton moans falling from your parted lips.
“Grateful for this pretty little body.” He whispered as he felt you up greedily, squeezing and caressing just about any part of you he could reach.
“Na…namin,” You cried.
“I know, baby. I know.” He shushed, “I know you want more. Just wanna appreciate you is all.”
Nanami eventually willed himself away, but only to lift you off of him and set you down on the couch so that he could kneel on the rug in front of you. You sat upright with your back to the backrest of the couch, knees to your chest as they pressed together tightly. With one hand, Nanami was spreading your legs apart before tugging you closer to the edge of the cushion by your ankles.
You couldn’t bear the sight of him between your legs as he began to kiss you through the damp fabric of your panties, darting his tongue out to taste you just a little bit. It was awfully too much. You could hardly breathe as he beckoned for you to raise your hips so that he could pull your soiled panties down your legs, tossing them aside.
“Grateful for this sweet little pussy.” He breathed as he licked a long, ponderous strip, collecting your seeping arousal on the tip of his tongue.
You shuddered as he began to mouth your cunt. He kissed and drooled all over it, moaning and panting against it as if you were an oasis amidst a barren desert. As if he were a predator and you his prey. As if he’d simply die if didn’t devour you right here and now, whole, saving absolutely nothing for anybody.
As he sat on his knees between your legs, his hands gripped your inner thighs, keeping you spread nice and wide for him. You could hardly move, but that’s what he wanted. He wanted the entirety of your pussy on display for him. He needed you to be open and accessible and all for him.
He was still dressed in his business attire as he fucked you with his tongue. The first couple buttons of his blue dress shirt were undone and his spotted tie hung low from his neck. He even wore his loafers and his harness but none of that mattered to him. Maybe he liked the idea of you being completely bare and vulnerable and his only purpose is to be a vessel for your pleasure. Or it could just be the juxtaposition of it all.
“Fuuuck…” You drawled, “feels s’good.”
The swell of his cock was unbearable and you did nothing but push him further. Nanami wouldn't miss the subtle roll of your hips against his face, or the saccharine whimpers that tumbled from your mouth. He sure as hell wouldn’t miss the way you begged him to stuff you with his fingers. God, he could cream his fucking trousers.
He groaned as he slowly sunk his two middle fingers inside of you, “Oh, God, look at that.”
With hooded eyes and a lazy smirk, he watched as your greedy pussy sucked him in, kissing and coating his fingers in your essence. He couldn’t help but to shove those very fingers into his mouth, tasting you from the inside, only to return his fingers back to your pussy without missing a beat. He then dropped his head to wrap his lips around your clit. You whined as his fingers prodded your leaking hole while his tongue beckoned you to an inevitable release.
The obscene squelch of his fingers as he stuffed your drooling hole was sickening. You could only drape an arm over your eyes, shielding your face in embarrassment as he began to curl his fingers forward, pressing against your fluttering walls. With an open mouth you panted, and gasped, and moaned, and babbled, pleading for anything and everything.
And you’re just the sweetest thing ever to him. So pretty and delicious, he thought. Nanami couldn’t get enough of you. He lapped up everything you gave him, tonguing and sucking and slurping you up like a man starved. His groans and hums of pleasure as he ran his tongue through you were nothing but kindle to the ever-growing flame in the pit of your stomach.
His hands found purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly to pull you firmly onto his mouth. He let his jaw fall slack while lolling out his tongue, fully mouthing your cunt. Quite literally he stuffed his face with you, devouring you utterly and completely. He was obnoxious as he groaned and panted, deeply huffing and inhaling as if he were on the brink of death and you were his final breath, nursing him back to life.
How could someone be so pussywhipped? So drunk? So blinded by their own unceasing need to please? So much so that he doesn't even think twice when you cry for him to go lower, begging him to taste and appreciate you everywhere. He silently obliged, sharing a breath with you as he gathered your seeping arousal on the tips of his fingers so that he could drag them between the slit of your ass.
With both hands, he spread you further apart, warm palms on the fat of your ass, and his balls painfully swollen at the lewd sight of your holes throbbing and pulsing around nothing. Nanami gathered saliva in his mouth before puckering his lips and lolling out his tongue, messily drooling onto your pussy and asshole. He watched with a half-lidded stare as his saliva landed with a plap, slowly dripping from your cunt, to the space inbetween, until finally spilling onto your puckered hole.
Nanami dipped his head, quickly darting out his tongue to chase his spit so that he could push it into your ass. You gasped as his tongue probed and licked and tasted you. Fuck, you could cum just like that. You felt it—that deep, gnawing urge to release yourself with a buck of your hips and cry of his sweet name. God, you could fucking feel it.
“Yeeeah—my baby needs me everywhere, hmm?” He slurred drunkenly between drags of his tongue, “Needs me to appreciate her everywhere… even her pretty little asshole.”
You nodded dumbly with your pupils dilated and glazed over, your wet lips parted, and your eyebrows knitted. You could hardly recall how you ended up here… thighs pressed to your chest with your husband’s tongue and fingers delving in and out of your sloppy holes like some insatiable whore.
Is that what you are? Some insatiable whore whose only purpose in life is to be a slutty little housewife? It must be true though, right? It’s you who's getting your pussy and asshole slobbered on. You who’s feeling yourself up as you get devoured, groping and squeezing your breasts like a pornstar. And you who’s nodding off and choking over your words, begging to cum like your life depends on it. But maybe you end up like this in every life. Is it fate? Destiny? Is it just how it ought to be? Does it even matter?
You weren’t sure or maybe you just didn't care. How could you? Not with the way his thumb was slowly sinking into your asshole while his tongue licked through your sweet folds. Not with the way he was beginning to press his other thumb to your clit, beckoning you to cum in his mouth like the good girl he knows you are. And definitely not with the way your stomach was starting to tighten and coil with that all too familiar feeling.
“Nami!” You choked, your chest heaving as you panted and bucked.
You couldn’t fight your frown as he pulled away to smile up at you, the corners of his lips tugging into an all-knowing grin and his pussy drunk eyes boring holes into yours. You dripped down his face—the tip of his nose, his swollen lips and chin glistening in your arousal and his own saliva. It was debauched and lewd and entirely shameless but none of that mattered. It never mattered when he had you like this—so vulnerable, so helpless, so willing and meek. Maybe that’s the exact reason he craves you when he's away. Because he loses all sense of himself when he’s between your thighs. So lost in the objective of pleasuring you, in his need to satisfy.
“Want you to cum on my tongue so I can fuck all of my appreciation into you.” He whispered, his warm breath fanning your cunt, “You want that?”
You nodded hastily, humming and gasping in approval as you pushed your hips forward, chasing his hovering lips. Of course you want that and he knows it. He knows you’re unraveling at the seams, holding onto the fleeting semblance of sanity you grasp as you spiral toward an inevitable orgasm. He just knows it’ll tear you apart, sending you so far gone that he’s sure it’ll have tears threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks. If Nanami knows anything at all, he knows you—in and out like the back of his hand. He knows what your body needs, how much you can take, how deep he can go, and even how hard you’ll cum for him.
And it’s not just you. He too feels himself on the brink of orgasm, his poor cock threatening to spill into his Calvin Klein briefs, but not yet, not now. It was torture, his swollen balls pressed to the fat of his thigh and his heavy cock weeping precum all while being compressed by the restricting fabric of his trousers. God, it was absolute torture, but he would wait forever if it meant having his tongue and fingers inside of you.
“Nami, m’cumming… oh, God.” You cried.
It happened all too fast. Your poor brain couldn't register the orgasm that worked through your entire being. The feeling of your abdomen tightening and the flutter of your soft walls as his tongue helped you through it rendered you breathless. Your mind fell blank as he guided you through your orgasm, cooing words of praise and gratitude, leaving you a whimpering, stuttering mess.
Nanami moaned and panted as he drank you up, swallowing and enjoying everything you gave him. It’s almost animalistic the way he nearly unhinges his jaw to taste more of you if it were even possible. He’s a primal animal in his habitat, devouring his prey like it’s the last meal he’d ever have. It’s almost too good that it pains you, it’s too much.
You can’t stop your legs from closing around his head. “I can’t, baby...” You whine as you push him away with a little more force than intended.
Nanami drunkenly stumbles backwards onto the floor with a thud, his hands falling back to catch him and still, he smiles lazily. Well, it’s more of a crooked smirk. His usual ironed dress shirt now wore wrinkles and his normally manicured hair danced in a frenzy along his nape and forehead, blonde strands falling down to frame his face. He sat with his knees bent and his hands resting behind him to stabilize himself. His cheeks burned with crimson and his chest heaved.
“You really are so beautiful, my love,” He admired, “and I’m so grateful for you, your love, your compassion, your emotional complexity. I really am.” He breathed.
He’s babbling and you smile, heart swelling at his sentiment and vulnerability. His love is evident. It’s in your face, it’s overbearing, it’s real. “I love you more than you know.” You smile sweetly, holding your arms out for him to come to you.
Nanami pushed himself up from the floor to fall into your arms. “I love you with all that I am.” He admitted in a whisper, baring his soul.
His lips catch yours, pulling you into a tender kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “I want to make love to you.” He breathed. You nod to him, sealing your answering with another sloppy kiss. You hardly notice Nanami gently pulling you off the couch to carry you upstairs, nearly tripping as he attempts to slip his loafers off in the process.
Blindly, he stumbled through the doorway of your shared bedroom. He laid you on the perfectly done up bed and cursed to himself at the salacious side of you—your bare body on display for him, swollen cunt exposed between your legs, silently begging for more, your fucked-out face and tousled hair. Nanami fought the urge to cum as he undressed himself before you, finally ridding himself of his clothes.
As you waited, you couldn’t help the hand that snaked between your legs so that you could touch yourself. Your other hand found its way to your mouth, your fingers pushed past your lips and you sucked sweetly as you watched Nanami unfasten the buttons of his dress shirt.
As he undid the clasp of his brown leather belt, he shook his head and laughed to himself. It’s more of a breathy chuckle as he grins in disbelief. “You just might be the death of me.” He jested as he pushed his briefs down his thighs, baring his swollen cock. It jumped free, bouncing to kiss his navel.
Your stomach swirled in excitement as he neared the bed, kneeling onto the edge of the mattress. You crawled toward him, reaching for his cock so that you could pump him in your hand. It’s warm, heavy, desperate. It hurts. Nanami hissed at the contact, eyebrows furrowing and eyes fluttering shut. He couldn’t hide the throaty moans that tumbled past his lips nor did he want to. He needs you to know exactly how he feels.
“Can… can you spit on it? Fuuuck,” He gasped, his stomach caving as you immediately gathered saliva in your mouth, lolling out your tongue so that you could drool onto the swollen head of his cock. “God, I love you.” He gaped as a hand came up to cup your cheek.
You smiled up at him, your cheeks glowing as you stroked him sweetly. “I need you to fuck me, Nami.” You whispered. It’s quiet, benign, and sincere and you meant it so deeply.
Nanami nodded, watching like a hawk as you laid back for him, spreading your legs and showing him exactly how you wanted him. It didn’t take long for him to situate himself between your thighs, tucking your legs on either side of his hips. With his cock in his palm, he dragged the leaking tip along the expanse of your cunt, spreading and collecting your arousal. You writhed beneath him as you rolled your hips, searching for the relief you so desperately craved.
You shook your head, “Unh unh, just fuck me.” You blurted impatiently.
He smiled down at you, cocking his head to the right just a bit, laughing lightly before nodding in accordance. You braced yourself as he began to push the head of his cock inside of you with his thumb. The two of you sharing a gasp, your mouths agape as you both watched him slowly sink inside of you. Already, it was too much, and you weren’t even fully stuffed.
The moans that fell from your lips were nothing but needy, sultry whines and little gasps of air. Nanami groaned in response to your pretty little sounds, his voice low and guttural. There was nothing he loved more than your sweet voice, especially when you’d get all needy and whiny like this. He almost couldn’t help himself as he pushed his cock further inside of you, his hands reaching for the curve of your waist to pull you onto him, tucking himself as deep as he possibly could.
“Nanamin…” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting as your lips parted.
“I know,” He cooed, “but you can take it, yeah? You always do.”
He smiled sweetly as he drew his hips back, reveling in the way your arousal kissed him in a sheen layer. He held his breath as he pushed his hips forward like before, stuffing you to the brim. He gauged your expression, watching as your face contorted in pleasure, searching for your silent needs so that he can fuck you just how you like.
Slowly, he subconsciously nodded to himself as he pulled out of you. He nodded as if this was the answer to everything he’s ever questioned in life. “Yes, baby… fuck.” He stifled as he lolled his head back, “My sweet girl, always takin’ me so well.”
You are his sweet girl. His sweet girl that likes to get her pussy licked and fucked. His sweet girl that begs for all of her slutty holes to be stuffed and fingered. His sweet girl who pretends to be upset so that he’ll have to fuck her to put a smile on her face. And his sweet girl who is never satisfied, no matter how many times she cums.
“More.” You whispered.
He let you reach for his face and pull him close. You panted as you slotted lips against his, hooking your feet together behind him, encouraging him to fuck you like he’s meant to. You kissed him sloppily, your tongue lapping and sliding against his, licking and tasting him from the inside, remnants of your cum still lingering on his tongue.
Nanami pulled away, a gossamer of saliva connecting his bottom lip to yours, that same idle smirk playing his wet lips. “God, you need it don’t you?” He exhaled in a single breath, his eyes searching for yours in the dimly lit room.
You nodded eagerly, lifting your head to chase his fleeting lips. He kissed you back like before except this time, he was unhooking your legs to grip the back of your thighs, pinning them to the duvet and spreading you completely open for him. You want to get fucked? He’ll do just that. You deserve it after all.
The warm stretch of his cock as he split you open made your head spin. You sucked him in greedily, your wet walls kissing him so sweetly. He filled you so well, almost too perfectly, like he was hand tailored for you and you only. You could hardly breathe as he leaned forward, angling his hips slightly downward to lick at your neck. You whined as he licked a long, ponderous strip from your collar bone, to the shell of your ear, sealing it with a kiss, his thrusts still heavy and sharp, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix.
Each time his hips collided with yours, the sound of skin against skin was all that could be heard along with your choked whimpers and huffs of his breath against your neck, his thrusts heavy and deep. Nanami was losing himself as he fucked you, heavy balls slapping the thick of your ass, fat cock bullying its way deeper and deeper inside of you. Fuck, he wanted nothing more than to stuff his cum inside of you, tainting you with his seed, claiming you all for himself for eternity.
“My sweet girl needed me to fuck her like this, huh?” He cooed, his hand sliding up your stomach to grip your cheeks gingerly, forcing your lips into a pout. “Needed me to get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness like some kind of slut,” He kissed you sweetly, “I love it… makes me so hard… it hurts, baby. But I love it so much.” He babbled, kissing you sloppily between breaths.
It was a mess, all of it. Your cunt glistened in a sinful mixture of arousal while Nanami kissed you messily with his tongue lolled out, even the subtle exchange of saliva had you so aroused that you could cry, only adding to the wet mess the two of you created. You curled your toes as your eyes welled with tears, his thumb pressing against your clit, lips slotted against yours. It was all too much, your poor head was so empty and sore.
“I love when you turn me into this,” He confessed, his infatuation for you so ardently evident, “even think about you at work too y’know… get me so fuckin’ worked up… m’always so hard when I think about you. You make me crazy, I swear.” He inhaled a tight breath as he fought the gnawing urge to cum.
You gasped as he slipped out of you to lay down on the bed, pulling you with him. He put you on your side and tucked himself behind you, gripping the back of your thigh and hiking your leg to slip his cock back inside of you with a groan. Desperately, he fucked himself into you from the behind, his warm breaths lost in your neck, cock slipping in and out of you, wet balls kissing your ass with an obscene schlop.
“Think about you too, Nami.” You whispered, turning your head to meet his face, “M-missed you so much—fuck…”
Nanami grinned lazily, his nose brushing yours, “Yeah? You missed me baby? Do you touch yourself when I’m away? Thinkin’ ‘bout me fucking you just like this while you play with that pretty pussy?” His voice honeyed and sweet, thick with genuine curiosity and lust.
You hummed in agreement, huffing out short breaths in sync with the thrust of his hips. You could feel yourself slipping into a place of no return, a place so far gone, so depraved, that you were afraid you’d lose yourself and cream all over him, ruining the freshly washed sheets. Your walls squeezed the length of his cock, begging him to spill inside of you and Nanami was feral as he fucked you stupid, cresent-shaped nails digging into your thighs, his breath hitching with each inhale.
“Want your c-cum,” You slurred, your pretty face contouring in your own need to release, “want you to cum inside of me… show me how much you really love ‘n appreciate me with your babies. Need your babies, Nami… please?”
His cock twitched, “F-fuck, is that what you need? Will that make you happy, sweetheart?”
You mouthed a silent plea, nodding to him with parted lips. He gripped your face softly, bringing you close to taste your swollen lips for the umpteenth time tonight. There was nothing you needed more. Absolutely nothing on earth would satisfy you more than taking all of his cum like a good girl should. You dreamt of getting knocked up by Nanami, your stomach so cute and round as you waddled around the house with a gracious smile.
“Say it, baby, please, will you?” He begged softly, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppier, “Say you want me to breed you and make you a mommy… please, baby, fuck.” He gasped as his impending orgasm coiled in his abdomen, threatening to tear him apart.
“Need you to make me a mommy, Nanami… been such a good girl for you. I deserve it, please.” You brainlessly babbled.
​​“Fuck, fuck, fuck—okay, baby. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” He moaned, “Gonna give my good girl all of my cum, such a pretty fuckin’ girl… deserves all my cum—oh my God.”
He whined shamelessly, his erratic breaths soon turned into broken ones, each of them interrupted with a whimper or hiss. His chest heaved as his lower stomach began to tighten, his wet cock throbbing inside of you, the head weeping against your cervix. Eventually, that winding coil in the pit of his stomach snapped, releasing itself in several spurts of thick, milky cum, coating your walls in his viscous seed. Still, he bucked his hips into you, his cock accidently slipping out a few times and pushing against you clit from the force of his thrusts only for your greedy hand to reach down to tuck him back inside, allowing him to fuck his cum as deep as he could, none of it going to waste.
“You gonna cum for me, hm? Make a mess after you’ve just cleaned the house?” He cooed, reaching a hand down your body to play with your clit, tracing small, tight circles around the sensitive bud, encouraging your looming orgasm.
You squeaked a small yes in response, eyes falling shut as you felt your orgasm swelling. His voice only pushed you further, his encouraging words and sweet nothings coaxing you. He was sending you so far, stringing you along so thin, beckoning you to cum all over him and make a mess. His cum seeped from your pussy, dribbling onto the satin sheets in a sinful puddle beneath you and you could only whine as your soft walls fluttered around him.
He pressed his lips to your shoulder, kissing you sweetly, “Cum for me, my pretty baby, c’mon.” He encouraged, “Cum for me like I know you need to—yessss, baby, yes cum just like that… all over my cock, fuck.”
After ensuring you were thouroughly fucked through your orgasm, his thrusts slowed and eventually, his hips stilled completely. He slipped out of you, nearly cumming again as he watched your pulsing cunt push out his seed, his cock too dripping in a sweet layer of cum and arousal. He almost couldn’t help the hand that slipped between your legs, fingers finding your pussy to gather his cum on the tips, pummeling it deeper inside of you.
It was too much, too sensitive. You shook your head as you whined in overwhelming pleasure, pushing your thighs together and forcing his hand away. Nanami hushed you with a kiss, explaining that he would prefer his cum not to go to waste. He just wanted to make sure his seed was planted, make sure that you’d get pregnant and there was no doubt you’d end up plump and full with his baby. He turned you to face him, shuffling close so his nose could touch yours.
“You’d make the most beautiful mother.” He smiled gently, peeling the disheveled hair off of your face, baring your blushed cheeks and sweat-ridden forehead.
His heart swelled when you beamed in return, your eyes fluttering sheepishly as sleep loomed. Nanami thought you looked prettiest like this, so raw and exposed in your post-orgasmic state. He could see right through you like a glass house in broad daylight. There was almost an internal glow within you, a radiating brightness that consumed everything in its wake and he adored that about you. Possibly the reason he fell so hard all those years ago.
“You really are so beautiful to me.” He breathed as if coming to the realization all over again, “I love you and it hurts my heart when I disappoint you.” He frowned.
You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, “I love you too, Nami. Just don’t let it happen again, hm?” You partly joked as you squinted, shooting him playful daggers.
He kissed your nose too, “It won’t happen again.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*: ☆。・:*:・゚
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revasserium · 11 months
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Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man
accidentally in love
opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader
summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.
a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.
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Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.
You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.
“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.
“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.
Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.
“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”
Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.
“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.
“What, finished with that book already?”
“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”
Sanji blushes.
Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.
“You never answered my question, y’know.”
He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.
The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.
“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.
“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”
“What are you making?”
“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.
“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.
“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.
“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.
You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.
“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.
“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”
Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.
“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”
When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.
“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”
The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.
“Ah, shit —”
“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.
“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.
The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.
“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.
“Thanks.”
He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.
Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.
Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.
He wants to reach for you.
Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.
An alarm goes off.
“Oh fuck —”
He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.
Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.
“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.
You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”
“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.
“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”
“Hey —”
You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.
Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.
“We’re not done talking about this.”
You cock your head, “About what?”
But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.
“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”
Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.
Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.
“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.
“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.
Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.
You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:
Kitchen — after dinner.
You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.
The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.
You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.
When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.
“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.
Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.
“This afternoon —”
“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.
One word from you and —
“So? What about you?” you ask.
Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.
“Me?” he asks.
“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”
He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.
“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”
A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.
“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”
Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.
“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”
You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.
“Yes.”
You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.
“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.
Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.
You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”
Another kiss.
Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.
“That’s two.”
You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.
“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”
Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.
“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.
“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”
“Did you ever doubt?”
Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.
“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.
“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”
Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”
“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”
You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.
“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”
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recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.
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