#henry is a pretty pretty princess

[softboynick]

forged by fire and crafted with care

firstprince | Henry holds the high expectations of the Crown on his shoulders, and it crushes him to the point of self-doubt and self-sabotage. That is, until he finally chooses a life for himself and chooses to live truthfully. He refuses to hide among the shadows no longer. He is Henry Fox, and no one will take that away from him.

OR The story of Henry's bravery and journey towards happiness as told through different pieces of jewelry.

5.5k words, rwrb-compliant, henry-centric, based on this beautiful piece of artwork by @artofobsession

Also read on AO3

--

Bea makes him a bracelet of beads and thread when he is six years old. It’s pink and sparkly and fits loosely on his small wrist when she puts it on for him. He can spell his name out just fine—he tells his Papa he’s a big boy almost everyday—so he can see that his sister added beads to spell out his name. 

H-E-N-R-Y. 

He traces his fingers over the letters and the sparkly pink beads around his wrist. It’s very pretty. 

“What’s this for?”

“It’s a friendship bracelet, Henry. All my friends at school were making one, so I thought I could make one for you, too.”

“But you’re my sister.”

“Sisters can be your friend, too, silly.” 

“Oh. Well. But I don’t want you to be my friend. I want you to be my best friend, Bea.” 

His sister laughs, and it’s the best thing he’s ever heard—well, second best, next to his Papa’s voices when he tells him his bedtime stories.

“Okay, okay, fine! I’ll be your best friend, Hen. As long as you’re mine.” 

That night, when he is all tucked in under the covers and in his warm pajamas, he traces the black, blocky letters of his name and smiles, big, unrestrained, and most importantly, happy. He doesn’t have to wonder what his grandmother truly thinks about boys who play with their sister’s dolls and wear pink, sparkly bracelets. That will happen another day. 

For now, as he falls asleep with Bea’s friendship bracelet secured around his tiny wrist, he doesn’t have to worry about the entire world’s burdens bearing down on his shoulders just yet.  

****

His grandmother gifts him a watch that sits heavy on his wrist. It is a present fit for a man—fit for a king (even though he is only the spare)—and at thirteen years of age, he is already expected to act like one. She tells him that the watch will build character. That it will finally make him focus on playing the part of the dutiful Prince of England. 

“A prince’s wardrobe will not be complete without a solid timepiece,” she tells Henry as she passes the box to him on the evening of his thirteenth birthday, and her voice has yet to adopt the tinge of disappointment that always seemed to be reserved for her two youngest grandchildren. That will come at a later time. 

While the craftsmanship is objectively beautiful, the watch is rather bulky, interlaced silver brackets for the wristband with a deep blue face, gold accented numbers, and sturdy hands fixed meticulously to its center. It is the kind of accessory a boy his age is expected to wear. If it is quiet enough, he can hear the solid ticks and tocks of the watch’s inner machinations, a foreboding countdown to something further down the line.

But the line doesn’t seem far enough, and he is sent to Eton that following fall. He is terrified.

He is a sensitive soul, or that is what he overhears his family, but mostly his grandmother, says about him. He doesn’t know what it means, but he guesses it has something to do with why he’s so poor at making friends, even if he is a prince. During the first few months at school, he struggles to open up to the other boys in his year, choosing instead to hide away in the library or in his dormitory and bury his nose in a book when he isn’t in his classes. 

The extra-curriculars he is expected to accomplish break open his shell, but only just. It isn’t until Percy Okonjo forcibly inserts himself into his life that he starts to feel the armor around his heart begin to crack. 

****

Pez is a whirlwind, a summer storm, a rogue wave violently crashing into a wall of stone. He barrels into his life and never leaves, taking him by the hand and showing him a new world beyond the palace walls. He chips away at his armored heart with relative ease, and Henry has no idea how he is able to let his sensitive soul be placated by this boy of ultimate exuberance. He is gregarious where he is not. He is the extrovert that somehow has given one look at Henry and decided to keep an introvert like him forever.

And somewhere along the line, he decides he wants to keep him, too. 

Their later years at Eton are spent hopping between dormitories, with the other uppercrust boys in their year and above, who are one day going to run England to the ground. They sneak in liquor from their father’s cabinets, the head boys pointedly looking the other way so they can join in on the merriment. They do ridiculous, stupid things, and drink themselves even stupider. 

For the first time in a while, he feels free. 

Henry is absolutely sloshed from stolen vodka and sambuca shots when Pez suggests he stick a needle through his earlobes. At least he has the wits about him to ask him why.

“Because! It’s what the cool kids do, Hazza.” 

“You are fucking mental. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Just live a little, darling! Look, I’ve done this before, so you just need to hold still, sit pretty, and let Auntie Pezza do all the work. And besides, don’t you just want to absolutely piss off your old Gran?” 

He opens his mouth to protest, but the rebellious part of him takes over, and he decides that yes, he does want to piss off the Queen of England . He doesn’t need much convincing, piss drunk and all, and against his better judgment, he takes another huge swig from the vodka bottle right before Pez pushes the needle into the fleshy part of his ear. He chases down another mouthful when Pez has to the other one, and all he’s thinking about is how horrified his Gran will be if she sees the right state he’s in now.

The alcohol does enough to mask the stinging pain, and everything becomes a right blur after that. When he wakes up hours later, head pounding and mouth dry as sandpaper, his ears are throbbing, the skin pink and angry, and there is a silver stud in each of his earlobes. 

“Oh, bloody hell.”

 ****

His father leaves and the only thing left of him is his memories and the signet ring on his little finger, the one he had presented to him when he’d just turned eighteen. He presses his thumb hard against the ‘H’ engraved into the face of it, feeling the grooves etched into the metal and thinking about his father all the while. He can almost feel his warmth embedded in the metal, but he knows it is only his grief blinding him with wishful thinking and a vibrant imagination. 

He twists the ring round and round, mimicking the downward spiral he feels himself succumbing to as he watches his father’s coffin being lowered into the ground. 

Then, he loses a mother, a brother, and a sister not long after. Mama loses her heart. Pip loses his love. Bea loses herself. And he is all alone with nothing but the memories of his loving father to remind him of what he has lost.

The world is heavy on his shoulders, and he doesn’t know what else to do. 

****

It’s his birthday, and he feels a little less like the world’s closing in on itself now that his psychiatrist has re-adjusted his medication. He still doesn’t sleep all that well at night, but it is still a start. 

He doesn’t hear from his mother, but he does receive a message via Shaan to “buy himself something special” along with an envelope full of banknotes. He understands why she travels so much, but one can only do so much to distract themselves from the pain of losing a loved one. He tried. Bea tried. Even Philip tried. It’s been years, and his mother is not the same person he used to know. 

He asks Bea to accompany him for lunch, their PPOs trailing a few paces behind them. He hopes he can use his birthday to establish some kind of normalcy since it is just the two of them. Twenty-two, after all, is just a number. There isn’t anything significant about the age. No extravagant milestones attached to its connotation. But still, there are only two things worth noting on the day he turns twenty-two years old: Bea is sober, and he is gay. 

After lunch, Bea takes him shopping to make use of the money their mother sent to him to spend, but nothing catches his eye. That is, until they’re in an antique shop, and he sees a pearl necklace sitting in the display case. 

The string of pearls is delicate, reminiscent of the friendship bracelet Bea made him all those years ago. It looks as if it is glowing, like tiny moons held together by a gossamer of stars, and he wonders, wistfully, how it would feel on his skin.  

“Oh, Hen. It’s so beautiful. I think you should get it.”

Bea is the only one who knows who he truly is. She is the first one he tells, after all. She hadn’t judged him then, and she still doesn’t judge him now. In fact, she openly encourages him to explore the part of himself that he keeps hidden away because of the watchful eye of the Crown. 

“I- I don’t know. It’s just- It isn’t fitting for a prince, is it.” 

Even he can hear how defeated he sounds in his own ears. An echo of his grandmother’s biting tongue, tutting at his behavior like an ever-present devil. A prince like him would have never been allowed to wear, let alone have, a piece of jewelry so…feminine, so insinuating of a life he isn’t meant to lead, a life his own grandmother would never approve of. Heavy is the Crown he wears, and it is suffocating. 

He leaves the shop empty-handed and heavy-hearted. 

Days later, he finds a box addressed to him sitting on his bed. He lifts the lid and what rests inside it knocks the air right out of his chest. 

“I know it’s a few days late, but…do you like it?”

“Bea…you didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t. I wanted to. You’re my best friend, Hen. I like seeing you happy.” 

He looks down at the pearl necklace, delicate in his hands, and his gaze becomes blurry with tears. 

“Can you…can you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Hen.” 

They stand in front of the mirror as she helps him close the clasp around his neck, the pearls sitting perfectly, gently, against his collarbone, and the boy staring back at him looks inexplicably…happy. 

****

The constant appearances and camera-ready smiles have slowly begun to whittle him down to a shell of himself. The engagements have only seemed to ramp up since his father’s death marked the beginning of the Fox family’s detriment. The Crown has a reputation to uphold, and so under the orders from the Queen herself, Henry is carted off around the world, as the family’s sole representative, to make sure everyone sees how normal and happy the royal family is, when truly, they are anything but.

But it all becomes too much eventually, and he sneaks off needing a moment alone, a moment to be Henry Fox and not Prince Henry of England. To breathe and not have the heavy weight of the Crown looming over him.  

He buys the earrings on a whim. He tells the jeweler they are a gift for his mother as he watches her pack them into a small velvet box. She gushes to him about the pearls, telling him how they’re ethically farmed from their supplier in Japan. She explains how the cooler waters in which they’re farmed cause the pearls to grow more slowly, making them more compact and giving them more luster than the average pearl. 

He simply smiles and nods, half-listening. He glances over his shoulder and sees the lone PPO he wrangled onto this impromptu journey and his equerry still stationed at the door. 

He takes the bag, cream and discreet, and turns to leave immediately. 

“Finished, Your Royal Highness?” 

He wordlessly nods at Shaan and disappears out the door and into the black car waiting for him at the curb. When they arrive back at Kensington Palace, he goes to his room, feigning exhaustion as an excuse. Shaan fortunately leaves him be, letting him know that he does not have any more engagements for the rest of the day. 

Henry sits on the edge of the bed, pulls out the small felt box containing the earrings and sets it down. He then reaches into his bedside table and pulls out the box that holds the necklace Bea had gotten for him on his twenty-second birthday and places it down next to the earrings. 

He releases an unsteady breath and waits a beat, before getting up to check that the door is locked. He knows no one will bother him at this time of day—Shaan will make sure of it—but he still goes to check anyway. He takes both boxes to the dresser, the mirror sitting right above it. He takes the necklace out first and caresses the pearls with his fingertips. He doesn’t have Bea’s help this time, so it takes some moments of fumbling before he manages to clasp it around his neck. He runs his fingers along the smooth surface of the pearls once it’s secured, cool against his skin, and lets out another breath. 

Then, he opens the second, smaller box. The hinges are smooth as he lifts the lid and reveals the pearl earrings sitting prettily on a bed of felt. He lifts one to examine it. The silver hoop is cool between his fingertips, and a droplet of pearl hangs from it with a chain of delicate filigree. 

He takes extra care to put them on. The left ear goes on first, and then, the right. They slip right through the holes that have miraculously not closed up after years of not wearing any earrings. 

He stares at himself in the mirror for a long moment and watches as his eyes turn bright with tears. They spark with a newfound confidence that had laid dormant for years, beaten out of him by his grandmother’s incessant rules and expectations. But he sees now, as he stands there adorned in pearlescent jewelry, that she was not successful. 

This is Henry Fox. Not the Prince. Not the grandson of Queen Mary. And absolutely no one is allowed to take this away from him.

Continue on AO3

[hanelizabeth]

the happiest of birthdays to our dear charlotte ✨

henry surprised her with a trip to kensington gardens, a picnic by the river, and afternoon tea at the finest establishment in the whole of london 🤍

characters by @cassandraclare 🫶

follow me on instagram - @/illustratinghan

[peachii-keenii]

Got that remnant stare

Reference under the cut

I saw this meme and thought of them

[pinceauarcenciel]

Precure crossover spread illustration I did for @transformzine last year! Including all the girls interested in fashion >w<) 🎀✨

Most of their outfits are (inspired) from the Puzzlun Dress Up collection, Idol Precure series, and other official art. The rest are original designs by me~

👗 Leftover sales are open until December 10th ✨

※ Fanart: HeartCatch Precure!, HappinessCharge Precure!, HugttoPrecure, Go! Princess Precure, Tropical-Rouge! Precure, Kirakira☆Precure à la Mode, Fresh Precure!, Delicous Party♡Precure, Yes! Precure 5 Gogo, Healin’Good♡Precure © Toei Animation

[champagnexowishes]

“That’s the thing about women. There’s no good way to be one. Wear your emotions on your sleeve and you’re hysterical. Keep them tucked away where your boyfriend doesn’t have to tend to them and you’re a heartless bitch.”

-Emily Henry, Book Lovers

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

I'm not a huge fan of Shattered Glass either for my own petty reasons, but applying it to TFA specifically makes it really funny, because all of Detroit's supervillains just become incredibly strange do-gooders. What the fuck is Headmaster's deal in this universe. What is up with Meltdown.

I didn't even think of Meltdown! Okay so I think that Masterson would be like a white hat hacker like I mentioned but also an over the top do-no-harm guy. Like offers you one of his reusable straws from his collection so you don't use a plastic one and walks to work to ensure he has a zero carbon footprint and denounces fast fashion. Like that kinda guy.

Meltdown I could see as maybe like a tragic accident in the pursuit of good. Like instead of trying to make super humans, he was trying to use his research to help human issues. Like maybe making a chemical that would improve skin strength in people with fragile skin conditions or trying to find a cure all drug that could be applied to almost any disease. Then of course the lab accident happens but he wants to continue his research but uhhh something something evil Autobots wanna use him as a chemical weapon. Bonus points if instead of being incredibly acidic he's incredibly alkaline. Which is still bad but a different kinda problem!

[fatedtruths]

henry && bea

bake off and david and bea ,   it was a fairly standard evening in the kensington apartments when no one else was watching .   especially when one considered the packet of jaffa cakes he was already halfway through .   bake off was a re-run and more like background noise .

' give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you. '

henry let out a chuckle at @leschanceux's suggestion ,   reaching for another jaffa cake with a shake of his head .    " right , like there isn't enough of me given away for public consumption at any given time . "    he took a bite and then , in a move that would give their gran a breakdown , gestured with the other half as he continued speaking. " did you know my fresher's essay on oscar wilde was 'leaked' to the sun this morning ?  it wasn't even one of my good ones . "

prompt .

[fideidefenswhore]

The rumor about returned gifts, since two informants separately revealed it to him, sounds like an invented event to assure Chapuys of Jane's honor and to neutralize the earlier rumor about Henry's presenting her with gifts. Considering the Seymours' social status and political ambitions, surely they would not have permitted their female relative to refuse presents from the King.

Elizabeth of York and Her Six Daughters-in-Law: Fashioning Tudor Queenship, Retha Warnicke

[ur-battdoll911]

My girls based off of Henry the 8th's six wives!

1- C. Aragon

2- C. Parr

3- K. Howard

4- Jane

5- Ann

6- Anna Von Cleves

[cephalopodsquad]

berries and puppies must be summer

[english-history-trip]

Ever see a depiction of St. George and the Dragon? It's pretty fair to say if you've seen one, you've seen them all: Georgie on a horse stabbing a flailing dragon creature, princess piously kneeling in the background, vague landscape alluding to the homeland of the artist's patron.

The most varied part is the dragons. No one had a real definition for the thing, it seemed. For your pleasure and entertainment, I have ranked some medieval depictions based on how impressive George's feat seems once you see the dragon.

Paolo Uccello, 1456

This is a terrifying beast. The hell is that. Uccello was one of the first experimenters with perspective, so the thing also looks surreal, like it's taking place on Mars, or a Windows 95 screensaver. I would not want to fight that, I would not want to be tied to that. (Sometimes the princess is tied to the dragon for some reason.) 10/10

Horse thoughts: Maybe if I look at the ground it will be gone when I look up

Unknown artist, c. 1505

This is a rare change of form for the dragon; it's the only one I've seen actually flying (or at least falling with style). It doesn't look particularly deterred by the spear through its throat, either. Also, George looks appropriately nervous. On the other hand, it hasn't got teeth, it seems to be fuzzy rather than having scaly armor, and George is bolstered by his army of Henry VII and his children, most of whom definitely didn't actually die in infancy. Still, wouldn't want to fight it, wouldn't want my pet sheep near it. (Sometimes the princess has a pet sheep for some reason.) 9/10

Horse thoughts: I am so glad I wore my mightiest feather helmet for this

Raphael, 1505

We are coming to Dragons With Problems. This guy looks about comparable in size to George, and does have wings, but doesn't seem to be using these things to his advantage (and has he only got one wing?) And how does he deal with the neck? He does have a comically small head, but holding it up with such a twisty neck seems complicated at best. But most egregiously, he is doing the shitty superheroine pose where he is somehow simultaneously showcasing his chest and his butt, with its unnecessarily defined butthole (more on this later) (regrettably). 8/10 bc it's Raphael

Horse thoughts: AM I THE BESTEST BOI? AM I DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB? WE R DRAGON SLAYING BUDDIEZ

The Beauchamp Hours, c. 1401

We had a spirited debate about this one at work. Again, the dragon has gotten smaller, and this one hasn't got even one wing. He's basically a crocodile. So the debate became: would you want to fight a crocodile if you had a horse and a pointy stick? Would the horse trample the animal, who can't get on its hind legs, or freak out and throw its rider? Would the pointy stick be enough to pierce the croc's thick hide? In this case, George seems to be controlling his horse and putting his pointy stick in the dragon's weak spot, so we can be impressed by his skill and strategy. However, his hat is dumb. 7/10

Horse thoughts: Dehhhh

Book of Hours, c. 1480

Here we have the same kind of croco-dragon, but George's focus on his strategy has gone out the window. He's flailing around, not even looking at his target, he's about to lose his pointy stick, he hasn't got a hand on the reins, and his sword seems to only be poking the invisible dragon over his shoulder. All he's got going for him is that his hat is slightly less dumb. 6/10

Horse thoughts: Yay, new friend! Come play with me, new fr- what is happening

Final dragons put behind this Read More for your safety:

Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1432

I'm thinking this guy is at least semi-aquatic. Webbed feet, wings that seem more like fins, bipedal but top-heavy, jaws that seem more for scooping than biting. Maybe she's crawled up here from the nearby body of water to lay her eggs, and this is all a big misunderstanding. Moreover, George's dagged sleeves seem entirely impractical for the situation. 5/10

Horse thoughts: i got my hed stuk in a jar and now it is this way forever

Unknown artist, c. 15th century

I hate this. I hate everything about it. Why has it got human eyes and teeth. Why is its nose melting. Why has it got a dick on its face and balls under its chin. The fin/wings are back but they look even more useless. Also, George is shifty as hell, schlumped over in his saddle with his bowler hat thing over his eyes. The baby dragon at the bottom eating some hapless would-be rescuer is kind of metal. 4/10 at least the thing is gonna die

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Crack

Book of Hours, c. 1450

Remember what I said about the buttholes? First, sorry. Second, yeah, we're back to that. I'll admit this one is less about the danger from the dragon itself than the very specific choices the artist has made. They didn't need to do that. It's a lizard. They don't even have. And it's like they had an orifice budget and they skipped an exit wound for the spear to focus. Elsewhere. It's so detailed. And George had an even dumber hat. 2/10 take it away

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Weed

Book of Hours, c. 1415

This is just bullying. There isn't even a princess. That is clearly an infant. Look at that smug look on George's face as he swings his sword that's bigger than the whole little guy. This is the equivalent of when DJT Jr. hunted those sleeping endangered sheep. 1/10

Horse thoughts: ....yikes

And this is the previous one, but now the baby dragon is cute. He's chubby. He's got toe beans. He's Puff the Magic Dragon. His eyes have already gone white, implying that George is just kicking its corpse around for funsies. What's the difference between the dragon and the lamb in the background? That the dragon is dead, like our innocence. This George is truly deserving of the dumbest hat of all. 0/10 plus one more butthole for the road

Horse thoughts: Perhaps it is we who are the buttholes.

[fatecantstopme]

My Favorite Cardio

Pairing: Henry Cavill x wife!reader

Summary: When he gives you that look, you know you’re in for it. Basically porn without plot.

Warnings: RPF. Cursing. SMUT. Oral (F receiving), bondage, dom/sub vibes, slight pain kink, slight choking kink, unprotected sex (P in V). Use of pet names

A/N: inspired by Henry’s interview about how he gets his cardio 😉

“Well that was quite the interview, babe,” you said with a smirk when your husband came into the living room.

Henry chuckled lightly. “You saw that, huh?”

“I got 30 text messages from family and friends with links to the video literally 10 minutes after it aired.”

He blushed. “Sorry, sweets. I didn’t know how to respond and I panicked.”

You laughed warmly. “Well you didn’t lie…”

He grinned. “You’re my favorite cardio.”

“I think I prefer running,” you teased.

His expression darkened and he gave you an almost predatory look. You felt wetness pool in your panties and you bit your lip as you stared at him.

“You sure you wanna tease me right now, (Y/N)?”

You shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s kinda fun.”

He took a step towards you, arms folded across his chest. “Yeah? You know the rules, sweets.”

“Rules?” you asked, tone light. “I can’t seem to remember any rules.” You knew exactly what your bratty behavior would do to him and you couldn’t wait for your reward.

He crossed the room in a moment, bending down to pin you against the couch, arms on either side of your body. His pupils were blown with lust and desire oozed from every pore in his body. “It sounds like you need to be reminded, princess.”

You nearly moaned at the pet name. Whenever Henry called you princess, you knew he was going to dominate the hell out of you.

Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by your husband. “You want me to remind you? I’d be more than happy to put you back in your place.”

“My place?” you teased.

Henry let out a low growl. “Get your ass into the bedroom so I can fuck the brat out of you.”

You loved when he spoke so harshly to you. Your pussy was dripping and you had to rub your thighs together as you stood up, desperate for some kind of relief.

Once again, Henry noticed. “Already desperate, baby? Such a sweet little slut,” he murmured as he slapped your ass.

You gasped in surprise at the intensity of his smack. You turned to look at him, eyes filled with intense need. “Only for you, sir.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Bed. Now.”

You ran into the bedroom, tearing clothes off as you went, Henry not far behind you. You flopped down onto the bed, completely bare, as your husband entered the room in nothing but his tie and boxer briefs.

Your mouth watered as you took in his gorgeous body. Your entire body pulsated with need and you wanted to drag the man on top of you and use him for your own pleasure.

“Hands on the headboard,” he said firmly as he came up to the head of the bed.

You did as you were told, watching him secure your wrists to the headboard with handcuffs. He took off his tie and used it to blindfold you.

You whimpered softly, earning a much softer tone from Henry. “You okay with this, sweets?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He grinned. “That’s my good girl.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss to your forehead. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nodded again.

“Words, pretty girl.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect.”

You hated not being able to see what he was doing, but you couldn’t deny that you were more turned on than you’d been in ages. Henry was usually a pretty soft dom, but in moments like these, you weren’t sure what he would do. He could be deliciously brutal when he wanted to be.

You could hear Henry moving around, and you were dying to see what he was doing. You whimpered softly and tugged at the handcuffs, trying fruitlessly to escape them. “Henry,” you whined.

“Patience, my love.” His voice carried to you from the other side of the room and you once again wondered what he was doing.

You were soon informed by a light tickling sensation on your feet. You giggled lightly, unable to contain the sound as the sensation traveled up one leg and down the other.

You knew without being able to see that Henry had pulled out some of his favorite items from the sex box in your closet. The current one was a feathered tickling wand that he just loved to tease you with.

“You know there is absolutely no need to torture me, Hen. I’ll be good, I promise,” you say softly.

“Oh my sweet girl, we are past the point of promises. You behave like a brat, you get treated like one.”

With that, Henry went back to teasing you relentlessly with the feathers, never once giving you the firm touch you really needed.

After several minutes, you heard the telltale sound of a vibrator being turned on. Moments later, you felt the cool silicone against your burning pussy, eliciting a gasping moan from you.

Instead of giving you what he knew you wanted, Henry slowly inserted the vibrating dildo into your dripping hole and left it there.

You whined and shifted your hips, trying to get more friction where you really needed it. “Henry, please,” you begged.

You felt a harsh slap against your thigh. “What did you call me?”

You bit your lip. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to, I just want you so badly.”

"It's okay, baby girl, I know you do." You felt his hot breath against your ear. "But I'm gonna take as much time as I want."

He nipped at your ear gently before once again pulling away. You groaned in frustration, but kept your thoughts to yourself to avoid further punishment.

To your surprise, you felt a sharp swat against your inner thigh. You gasped loudly as another smack hit your thigh. You whimpered softly and desperately tried to close your legs, but Henry's large body was wedged between them. He chuckled lightly and gently rubbed your thigh.

You felt a pinch on your left nipple, followed by a pinch to your right, as Henry secured his favorite nipple clamps to your breasts. Before you could say a single word, you felt the riding crop smack against your thigh again.

You loved the way he tortured you, the pain a welcome feeling, but you were begging him to give you some relief. "Sir, please," you whimpered.

"Please what, pretty girl?"

"I need you, sir, please."

"Aww, my sweet girl needs me to touch her sexy little body?" he teased.

"Please," you whimpered again.

You felt his large hands rest against your hips. "How could I possibly deny you, my love?" His voice was low and affectionate, but you knew he would be as harsh and as rough as he liked.

Henry got off the bed and you whined again, already missing his touch.

"Be patient, love," he insisted.

You heard him removing his boxer briefs and your mouth began to water involuntarily. Your hips jerked up, seeking any kind of friction, but there was none to be found.

"You're so needy," he teased as he grabbed your left ankle.

To your surprise, he wrapped a soft rope around your ankle and secured it to the end of the bed. "Can't have you moving around," he said as he quickly secured your other ankle.

By the time Henry actually got back on top of you, your entire body was on fire with a desire so intense that you were finding it very difficult to think.

When his large hands gripped your thighs, you whimpered softly. He ignored you and slid a single finger between your folds, collecting a large amount of slick.

"You're so wet for me, sweets." You felt his finger against your lips and he said, "Open up."

You did as you're told, and he slides his finger into your mouth. You moan softly as you taste yourself on your tongue. Henry gripped your jaw and held you still as you sucked his finger clean.

"That's it, baby. So sexy."

When he removed his finger, he pulled the dildo out of your pussy and shut it off. You whimpered at the loss of contact, desperation to feel him touch you threatened to overwhelm you.

"Shh," he whispered. "Such a needy little thing."

Your hips jerked up, your body desperately seeking relief anywhere it could be found. You couldn't see him, but you were certain Henry was purposefully shifting to avoid touching you where you needed him most. It was driving you crazy, and you started begging in earnest.

"Please, sir, touch me. Just do something, anything. I'll do whatever you want sir, just please...please," you whimpered.

Henry's large, warm hands gently caressed your thighs. "I could never deny such sweet pleas, my love. You clearly need me, so I shall oblige."

You could hear the movement, as well as feel his body shifting around, but no matter how you shifted your head, you couldn't see what he was doing. Was he about to thrust into you? Finger you? Eat you out?

Seconds later, you found out as he licked a thick stripe up your pussy, moaning at the taste. You gasped at the sensation, your body overly sensitive from all the teasing.

He moved slowly, taking his time licking you and sucking at your clit, ignoring your pleas to speed it up. It was obvious he was in control and he wasn't going to give it up that easily.

As he continued eating you out, your brain was filled with blinding pleasure. All you wanted was to grab his hair and push him into your pussy...but you couldn't move. You wriggled against the bonds on your legs and arms, struggling to free yourself so you could touch him.

Henry felt your movements and lifted his head to look at your face. Even with your eyes covered, he could see how desperate you were. "What's wrong sweet girl?"

"I--I wanna touch you, sir. Need to. Please."

Henry hummed approvingly, but made no move to untie you. "Beg for me, pretty baby."

You started rambling, words pouring from your mouth almost nonsensically. "Need touch you please can't take it please sir I need you wanna feel you please."

He laughed at your garbled words. "I love it when you beg, baby, but I'm sorry. I'm just not ready to untie you yet." Without another word, he dove back in, eating you out with renewed vigor.

You cried out in pleasure, your climax building within you. Somehow, not being able to touch him only made the pleasure more intense. It took him no time at all to have you falling apart on his lips, his tongue lapping up your juices as you came.

Your body jerked beneath him as he continued to suck on your clit, even after you'd come down from your high. Your whimpers of "too sensitive" fell on deaf ears, but they quickly turned to moans of pleasure as your second orgasm began to near.

After you came a second time, Henry finally relented, head lifting from beneath your thighs to kiss your skin as he moved up your body. He kissed your lips, allowing you another taste of your release, and you moaned desperately.

"Baby, please," you whimpered. "Please let me touch you."

Henry had actually been considering releasing you up until that moment. "Sorry, sweets...but you didn't call me by my title, so you're gonna have to wait a while longer."

"Nonononononono please, sir. I'm sorry, please. Please just untie me, sir, please."

The desperation in your voice made him pause for a moment, his dominant demeanor breaking for a second. "What's your color, my love?"

"Green," you responded instantly.

He grinned and kissed you softly. "Good girl." He sat back up, admiring your body as it writhed beneath him, begging to be touched. "Now...where was I?"

"About to let me go?" you tried.

He chuckled. "Nice try, baby." You felt him shift so he was back between your legs. "I think I remember now."

You felt the tip of his cock tease your entrance and you gasped at the feeling. Even after years of fucking him, his cock still stretched you to an almost painful level, but there was no better feeling in the world.

"Please," you whispered.

Henry wanted to keep teasing you, to deny you some more, but he was finding it more and more difficult by the second. He needed to fuck you and he needed it now.

Normally, he would give you a moment to stretch out, take his time, go slowly, but tonight he was simply too far gone. He couldn't wait.

His cock slammed into your pussy in one quick thrust, eliciting a sharp gasping moan from your throat. He instantly set a brutal pace, hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

"Fuck, baby girl, feels so good. You're so fucking tiny," he groaned.

You were too far gone to formulate any coherent words, moans all you managed in response.

"Tight little pussy squeezing me so well," he mumbled. "Makes me wanna stay here forever."

His cock was hitting all the right spots, making the pressure build in your abdomen. He could feel how close you were, so his pace never relented. "I know you're close, baby girl."

You hummed in response, silently begging him to never stop.

He thought about it for a moment, but decided against making you wait. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but he wanted at least two more orgasms from you before he came. "Come for me, baby," he whispered.

His command shattered you, orgasm pulsating through your body with such force that you screamed his name.

He had to slow down his thrusts as you came, pussy clenching him so hard he almost lost control. "Shit, baby. You gotta stop doing that or I'm gonna come."

Your body shook with aftershocks as Henry gently rubbed your aching muscles. "Sir, please," you whimpered.

"What is it, darling?"

"Let me touch you," you practically sobbed.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry. You've been so good." Henry moved to uncuff you, quickly releasing your hands from their hold.

You grabbed at him immediately, wanting to feel his skin against yours. "Can I see you?" you asked softly.

He smiled and slowly removed your blindfold. "Hey beautiful," he whispered.

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes fluttered open, landing on his incredibly handsome face. His curls were wild, his chest shone with sweat, and his cock was still inside of you...it was easily the sexiest image you'd ever seen.

He grinned, noticing your expression. "See something you like?"

"Mhmm...You're pretty cute," you teased.

He chuckled warmly, preening under your appreciative gaze. He shifted slightly, causing you to gasp as his cock moved inside of you. His eyes darkened and his hands slid up your body, tracing the curves he found along the way. "I'm not quite finished with you, my love."

Your eyes widened. You knew he hadn't come yet, but you figured he would let you off the hook, having come several times already yourself.

He saw your slightly panicked expression and grinned wolfishly. "Just one more, baby. You can do that for me."

"I'm not sure--"

He cut you off with a particularly strong thrust. "You were saying?"

"Don't stop," you gasped.

"That's what I thought," he said smugly, hips once again setting an intense pace.

Your legs were still tied to the end of the bed, which only heightened your experience...you couldn't get away from him if you tried, not that you wanted to. He was pounding into you with such force that you would have been slammed into the headboard if your legs weren't secured.

It didn't take long for you to be so far gone that all you could do was cling to his body, nails digging into his flesh. "Close," you mumbled.

Henry grinned. "I know baby girl. I can feel you squeezing me."

He reached between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with ease. He gently teased the sensitive nub as he continued to fuck you into the mattress.

Your moans shook the walls, mixing with his deep groans of pleasure. Through your haze, you could see that he was close. His eyebrows were weaved together in concentration, eyes focusing on a spot just above your head.

He'd been teasing you relentlessly since he got home, so you decided it was only fair to get back at him. "Look at me, baby," you whispered.

His eyes dropped to yours and you immediately clenched your pussy tightly.

"Fuck," he growled, body straining with the effort of staving off his orgasm. "What do you think you're doing, (Y/N)?"

You smiled. "Giving you a taste of your own medicine."

He raised a single eyebrow, eyes still glued to yours. Normally he would have corrected you, reminded you that you were his to command, but he secretly loved it when you took the reins.

You slid your own hand between your bodies, knocking his out of the way and taking over massaging your clit. "Keep your eyes on me handsome, and don't come until I tell you to."

His eyes widened slightly, but he nodded his agreement.

"Henry," you warned.

"Yes, ma'am. I won't come until you tell me to."

You smiled. "Good boy. Now, fuck me like you mean it."

Henry renewed his pace, quickly bringing your orgasm closer. You matched his pace against your clit, pussy clenching every few seconds to urge him on.

He was beginning to truly struggle, body so close to the edge he could barely breathe. His eyes closed as he thrust into you, but fluttered back open when he felt you grab his jaw.

"Eyes. On. Me," you said firmly.

The intensity of your gaze nearly pushed him over the edge, and he found himself begging you for permission to come. "Can't take much more, baby. Need to come. Please."

You enjoyed the neediness in his voice, and even though your own orgasm was impending, you decided to prolong his pain just a while longer. "Not yet, handsome. Be patient."

He groaned and his hand snaked up your chest, landing directly at the base of your neck. He might be letting you have some control, but he wanted you to know that you were still at his mercy.

He also knew exactly what that action would do to you, even without any pressure. You gasped in pleasure, the feeling of euphoria mere seconds away. "Come with me baby," you ordered, finally allowing yourself to orgasm.

Henry's hips stuttered as he came, filling you with his spend. He thrust a few more times as he emptied within you, voice hoarse and broken, a mixture of curses and your name falling from his lips.

When he was finally spent, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. You immediately wrapped your arms around his large frame, entangling your fingers in his curly hair.

The two of you laid like that for some time before he broke the comfortable silence. "I think we need to do cardio more often, I'm exhausted."

You laughed lightly. "You're exhausted? I came...three times? Or four? I can't remember."

He shifted, lifting his torso off you, angling his head to look at your pretty face. "It was four," he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head good-naturedly. "My apologies, sir. I shall endeavor to count next time."

His eyes lit up. "Oh that's a good idea, sweets. I should make you count them."

You groaned. "I regret opening my mouth."

"You love me," he teased.

"You know I do."

He kissed you sweetly before sitting up completely and dragging himself off the bed. "Not as much as I love you," he said softly.

He disappeared into the en suite, returning a few moments later with a warm, wet towel, which he used to clean you up. He took his time, admiring your body and all the love marks he'd made on your skin. He liked the idea of you walking around with the evidence of his adoration adorning your body.

Once you were clean, he laid down beside you, pulling you close to him. You laid your head on his chest and let out a sigh, "I love you, Hen."

He kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tightly. "I love you too, sweets."

You quickly fell asleep, but Henry laid awake for a while, basking in the feeling of your warm body in his arms, along with the afterglow of the best cardio a man could ask for.

[recklessmark]

i can help

Pairings: Manipulative step dad Mark x Innocent afab reader

Summary: You're hurt by your breakup but determined to make your step father feel better after finding out that you’ve made him hurt almost every day for the past few months

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe!), infidelity, daddy kink, virginity sex, masturbation, coercion and heavy manipulation, degradation, dirty talk, breeding.

Word count: 4k

A/N: to the anon that sent the ask of step dad mark, this is not exactly what you imagined. i twisted the story a little bit... hope you like it :)

It had been a long fucking day. A long week to be honest. 

But today was an interminable marathon of work that left Mark weary. The clock struck 4 a.m. and he yearned for the solace of your voice, a lifeline amidst the storm. Despite the ungodly hour, he dialed your number, his heart praying fervently that you would answer. And when you did, a familiar rhythm of "hi" and "how are you?" began, like a soothing melody as he took off everything but his underwear and slipped under the covers. 

“When do you come back?” You asked, making him smile. 

"Just a few more days, my princess. I promise," he assured, his voice a balm to your restless soul.

"Okay," you replied softly, vulnerability seeping into your tone. Then, in a hushed confession, you added, "I miss you."

His throat emitted a low, smoldering chuckle, envisioning the delicate blush that surely adorned your cheeks. “I miss you too, sweetheart. What have you been up to though?” 

You rambled on about your day, telling him about how you  made cookies earlier for Henry—your idiotic boyfriend, and that you were quickly growing bored in the mostly empty manor and your completely empty apartment. His wife—your mother—had been out of town for five days, and even if she was present, it still felt like she’s invisible. Sometimes, Mark felt sorry for you, but he was also thankful for that because it meant he was the one that took care of you.

He tried to pay attention, honestly he did. But he hasn’t touched his cock in almost a week because of how busy he’s been on the business trip and he missed the sound of your voice. So what else was he supposed to do when his cock fattened up in his briefs? 

When you started talking about this argument you had with your boyfriend, he tuned out your words a little bit, just listening to the softness of your voice, imagining the pretty little whimpers you could make with it. Pushing the covers and his underwear down, he freed his cock and instantly took it in his hand, stroking slowly. His breathing started to change a little, growing heavier and faster, making you trail off in the middle of your sentence. 

“Don’t stop talking, princess.” He rasped, hand speeding up. 

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly. 

“I’m perfect. Your voice is just so soothing, baby. Keep talking.” 

“O-okay.” You continued hesitantly, telling him about how you were so sad after the argument, wishing he was there to give you advice, or just simply provide comfort for you. You also told him about how you’ve been having trouble sleeping since you can’t come to his room in the middle of the night after having a nightmare. God- he fucking misses that too. It’s one of his favorite things, being able to caress your body or grind against you while you sleep, never waking up because of how safe you feel in his arms. When he let out a quiet grunt, you stopped again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? What was that?” 

“I’m so good, princess. Keep going.” He tried not to moan through the words. 

“Okay…” He swiped a thumb over the tip and took in a sharp breath, making you stop again. “Why are you breathing weird, Daddy?” 

“Baby, I'm not.” He sighed. “I promise I'm okay. If you don’t want to keep talking, we don’t have to.”

“No!” You said quickly, because of his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just worried.” Instead of letting him reply, you continued talking about random things that have happened while he’s been away. Every once in a while he’d let out a sound to let you know he was listening, a grunt disguised as a sound of acknowledgement, but you bought it. 

He started tuning out your words again, just focusing on the soft lull of your sleepy voice. You being sleepy is probably his favorite thing, closely followed by you being scared or in pain. You’re so pliable, so easy to manipulate. He can caress your tit or your ass and pass it off as an accident, or even tell you that he can’t sleep in clothes, only underwear, and that it’s perfectly normal for your step father to sleep almost naked beside you whenever your busy mother is away. Sometimes, if he’s really lucky, he can convince you that you won’t be comfortable in those modest pajamas you wear and that you’ll be able to sleep much better in just his shirt. And you almost always agree. 

He stroked his cock even faster, quickly nearing his orgasm after so long without one, and when he cursed under his breath, then let out a long, quiet groan, you trailed off again. 

You did your best to keep speaking, stuttering through the sentences, but it fell on deaf ears as he came, thinking about how fucking hot it was that you didn’t even know.  When his noises quieted and he was slightly panting, you decided to ask again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m perfect, baby.” He sounded significantly more tired and relaxed, but he knew you’d be too stupid to put it together. “You’re so good for me- my good girl. Thank you, princess.” 

“You’re welcome…?” You asked, confused, but he wasn’t going to bother explaining. “Are you tired now?” 

“Just a little, but I can stay up for you.” He murmured, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand to wipe his come off his stomach, cock twitching as he imagined you licking it off him instead. 

“You don’t have to. I’m tired too.” He knew you well enough to know that was a lie. 

“How about we go to sleep, but don’t hang up. How does that sound?” 

“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Daddy. I love you.” You said quietly, but he could practically hear the smile in your voice.  

“I love you too, princess. Sweet dreams.”

He knew he would at least have some. 

"Mark?" you whispered, your voice trembling through the narrow gap of the door. He stirred in bed, the sheets slipping down, revealing his bare chest. Sensing your distress, he sat up, his eyes filled with concern.

"Another bad dream?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle caress that soothed your frayed nerves. Nodding in confirmation, you stepped inside, drawn to the comfort of his embrace. With a tender gesture, he lifted the covers, inviting you to slide beneath them. Curling up against his chest, you sought solace in his presence as his arms enveloped your trembling form.

"Did I wake you?" you whispered, your voice laced with guilt, your vulnerability laid bare before him. Whenever your mother is away doing god-knows-what, you always find yourself slipping into her bedroom. You didn’t know if it’s the right thing to do to sleep next to your mother’s husband without her knowing it, but it’s easier to fall asleep with Mark, especially when you have one of those nightmares.

"Nah, couldn't sleep," he replied, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back, an attempt to chase away your anguish. "Just had a lot on my mind. But let's focus on you. Do you want to talk about your dream?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to find your voice. It wasn't a nightmare that had shaken you to the core—it was something far more devastating. With a quivering breath, you finally managed to utter the words that weighed heavily on your heart.

"It's not... not a dream," you choked out, the truth hanging heavy in the air. "I... I broke up with Henry."

Mark's lips pressed together, a concealed smile tugging at the corners. Beneath the guise of sympathy, he masked his true sentiments, knowing all too well that Henry was a pitiful fool who never deserved someone as exquisite as you. But he had bided his time, refraining from openly expressing his disdain for the fucker while you remained entangled in a relationship. Now, as the truth spilled from your lips, he adopted a pretense of speechlessness, his feigned sympathy coating his words.

"Well, that's unexpected," he mumbled, his voice veiling his true satisfaction. "I'm sorry, baby."

The words lingered, a heavy silence stretching between you. And then, the floodgates opened, tears streaming down your cheeks as the weight of your decision crashed upon you. Mark held you tighter, his touch a lifeline amidst the wreckage of your shattered relationship.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice a seductive lullaby, its dark undertones weaving a tapestry of comfort. With tender care, he wiped away your tears, his touch a balm for your wounded soul. "I'm here for you, always. Let it out, let it all out."

Sobs wracked your body as you clung to him, your tears staining the fabric of his embrace. “I really like him…” you cried out, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pain.

"I know," Mark grunted, his voice laced with a hidden jealousy that he fought to conceal. "But I don't think he's good for you."

Looking up from his chest, a slight frown etched upon your features, you questioned. “How do you know?”

He sighed, his thumb tenderly caressing the crease between your brows. “This is not the first time you cry because of him, is it?”

Your lips pursed, your gaze thoughtful as it rested upon him. Mark's words held an undeniable truth—your relationship with Henry had seldom been a source of genuine happiness. He craved excitement, always seeking something more, while you, plagued by fear, hesitated to embrace life's adventures. It had been a ticking time bomb, waiting to implode.

"Did I ever make you cry, baby?" Mark asked, as if seeking confirmation that your ex was a douchebag. A soft shake of your head earned a tender smile from him. "You see, he's not the right person if he fails to bring you happiness."

His words resonated in the air, mingling with the breathless silence surrounding you. Mark's lips brushed against the crown of your head, a gesture filled with an enigmatic tenderness. The nature of your bond remained a mystery, veiled in shadows, yet whenever you were near him, your stomach fluttered and your mind grew weightless. Whenever he touches you, it always feels good. Not a normal good though. It makes your core start to ache and you feel like you have to pee. The more you continued thinking about it, the more you started to feel it. 

"Daddy?" you ventured timidly, your voice barely a whisper. He emitted a low hum, granting you permission to continue and you tried to let the vibrations of his chest calm you. “How come whenever you touch me, it... it makes me feel... weird?"

His hand froze on your back, and a sudden tension enveloped the room, causing you to stiffen, worried you said something wrong.

"Weird how?" Mark's voice echoed with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Your cheeks flushed, warmth blossoming beneath your skin as you struggled to find the right words.

"Good weird," you managed to confess, your voice laced with uncertainty.

A silent pause hung in the air, before Mark's hand resumed its soothing motions on your back, as if trying to quell the charged atmosphere between you. With a voice heavy with anticipation, he asked, "Where does it feel good?"

Your breath hitched, your mind racing, as you summoned the courage to answer. "My tummy... and... and my..." This time, it was Mark who stiffened beneath you, his reaction palpable.

“Where, princess?” He urged you to continue, but you just whined softly and buried your face in the sanctuary of his chest. Sensing your hesitation, his free hand ventured boldly, brushing against your inner thigh with a teasing caress that sent shivers coursing through your veins. With a featherlight touch, he trailed his fingers upward, barely grazing the fabric that concealed the heat between your legs. You jumped at the sudden touch.

“Here?” He rasped. A nod escaped your lips, accompanied by a barely audible affirmation, "Mhm."

“Do you know what this is?” That made you frown— you’re not stupid. 

“Of course I do.” Your tone made him chuckle under his breath. 

"Have you ever touched here before?" His gruff words ignited a tremor within you, nearly eliciting a whimper as you confessed the truth.

"No... I'm not supposed to," you muttered, feeling your hips instinctively seek the pressure of his fingertips.

“Who told you that?” You knew if you looked at him, he’d be frowning. 

“School…” You said quietly. You never like to talk about the fact that you went to a religious school– people always make fun of you for it. He hummed in acknowledgment, then removed his hand, making you let out a needy whine and buck your hips forward. Instead of responding, he just took your hand, and gently moved it down, under the covers. When he placed it on his bulge, you gasped and tried to remove it, but he held you there, making you feel him. 

“You know what this is?” He asked and you bit your lip as you nodded. “Good. Do you know why I’m hard?” This time, you shook your head. “Because of you, princess.” 

“Me?” You lifted your head to look at him. 

“Mhm. Always you. Everytime you sit on my lap, cuddle with me, whimper when we spar and I go a little too rough– you always make me so hard, baby.” You stared at him with wide eyes, watching the his dark-browns almost completely disappear from the size of his pupils. “And everytime, I have to come in here or go to the bathroom and jerk myself off to make it better. And it’s all your fault.” That made your face tighten in a grimace. 

“I’m  sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He brushed some of your hair behind your ear then cupped your cheek, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. 

“It’s okay, baby. But if you want to make me feel better, you have to do something.” You wanted to help him, you wanted to make up for all the times you made him feel like this. 

“What? I’d do anything.”

Instead of answering, he just helped you on top of him, so your front was completely pressed to his. You placed your hands on his chest and he grabbed your hips, then started dragging your core over his bulge. 

“Anything?” He asked.

You nodded, holding down a whimper. “Just wanna make you feel better, Daddy.” 

“Good girl. You’re so good, princess.” He cooed, giving you a soft smile that made your heart flutter. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” 

“Only once with Henry,” you said quietly, glancing away from him, embarrassed at your lack of experience. 

“Good.” He all but growled. Mark removed a hand from your hips and placed it on the back of your neck, then pulled you down, only stopping once your lips brushed his. Your eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, you weren’t sure what to expect from this. 

Finally, he pressed his lips to yours, slowly kissing you to get you used to it. After a moment, he deepened the kiss. The warm, wet sensation on your lips made you gasp and he slid his tongue in your now open mouth. It was weird. But it feels good.

By now, your hips were rutting against his as you grew more desperate. He was barely guiding your movements anymore while you chased the pleasure. When he pulled back, your eyes fluttered open, lips still parted and chest heaving. You never knew kissing could feel like that. Your step father must have some magic because it didn’t feel like that with your ex. That thought made you freeze. 

“W-wait, we shouldn’t be doing this. You’re my step dad and– I was supposed to wait until marriage.” You said quietly. 

“I thought you said you wanted to make Daddy feel better?” He frowned, making your stomach drop. 

“I- I do, but,” 

“There’s no “but.” Either you want to help me or you don’t.” He had a look of disappointment and anger that was intensified by a frown. “You’re the reason I feel like this. You seriously just want to leave me in pain?” 

Pain? You didn’t know it was hurting.

“It hurts?” You squeaked, brows furrowing in concern. 

“You’ve never heard of blue balls?” You shook your head, so he continued. “It’s incredibly painful, sweetheart. Only feels better once I can bury it in a tight, warm cunt. And you’ve made me feel like this for months.” 

“I- I’m sorry, Daddy, I didn’t know…” You whimpered, chest aching at the thought of you being the cause of his pain. 

“I don’t forgive you. Not yet anyway.” Tears welled in your eyes from his words. 

“I want to help. Please,”

He shushed you and cupped your cheek again. “You sure?” 

“Please. Wanna make you feel better.” You whimpered and the corners of his lips turned up at your words. 

“Okay, princess. I’ll let you help me.” 

“Thank you.” Before you could even finish, he was rolling you both over so he was on top. He settled between your legs and leaned up on his knees. 

“First, this has to come off.” He said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulling it off. “You’ll only really be able to make me feel better if you’re naked.” He explained, when he saw your confused expression. “These too.” He pulled your sleep shorts and panties down your legs, making you blush. Letting out a low groan, he swiped his thumb through your folds, then circled your clit lightly, making your hips buck into the friction.  

“You’re helping already.” He smirked and you glanced at the tent in his underwear. It didn’t look like you were helping. You whined when he removed his hand, but he quickly moved down to your hole and inserted a finger, letting out a low groan at your tight heat. 

As he fingered you, he debated what to do. While part of him wanted to prep you, make it as easy on you as possible, a larger part wanted to fuck your virgin cunt right now, before it could get any looser. He didn’t have to think about it for a second longer before he was removing his finger and shoving his pants down his thighs. When you saw his cock, your eyes widened as your lips parted in shock at his size. He took it in his hand and stroked it slowly. 

“Just the tip, okay? I promise, baby. Just need to put the tip inside, then Daddy will feel better.” He said, to ease your anxiety. You whined, but agreed anyway. He leaned over you and you wrapped your arms over his shoulders as he lined his length up with your hole.

“Relax, princess. It’s okay.” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t help but obey. It took a lot of pressure before his cock was able to breach your hole. Once he pushed in though, you tensed up again. 

“Hurts, Daddy. It hurts…” You whimpered, eyes burning with unshed tears. Your pussy was trying to force him out, not used to the intrusion yet. 

“I know, baby. Just relax.” His voice was strained with arousal and he reached a hand down to rub circles on your clit, making walls flutter around his cock. “Fuck, that’s good.” He groaned, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck. 

“God- I know I said just the tip, but it feels so good. Can you take just a little bit more?” 

“Daddy please, it hurts…” You whined. 

“I know, princess. You gotta relax, it’ll feel good soon.” He slowly pushed in farther and you cried out, digging your nails into his back. “So fucking good. Your little cunt feels so good.” He said through a moan. He pulled back, then pushed in again, continuing the slow rhythm. 

“This is just what I needed, baby. You’re doing such a good job for me.” You tried to focus on his words and the stimulation on your clit, rather than the constant pain from the stretch. “Good girl. Good fucking girl- take it.” He growled on a particularly sharp thrust that made you let out a choked sob. 

“You fucking owe me for all the times you gave me blue balls. I’m gonna fuck you every night now to make up for it.” He hissed, voice getting progressively breathier as the speed of his thrusts increased. “Gonna bury my cock balls deep and fill you up with my come fucking breed you, every single night.” He growled. His pace turned bruising and you could barely release any sounds because of the way your breath was being punched out of you with every thrust. 

“You deserve to be my little breeding bitch after all the months you made me fucking come on my hand instead of in this tight, little cunt.” He spat, placing a hand on your neck and squeezing. “What’ll your mommy say, huh? When you go to her asking for birth control. Or are you just gonna let me knock you up?” You let out a whimper, feeling your cheeks heat up at just the thought of the embarrassing conversation. 

“Maybe you will just have to let me knock you up. After all, it’s not like you can tell her you let her husband fuck you.” 

“Daddy,” You sobbed, too overwhelmed emotionally and physically. 

“From now on, you’re going to come in here every night. And I’m going to use your little cunt until I fuck my load into you. Do you understand?” He growled, making you whimper. “This is your own fucking fault so stop bitching about it. You’re the one who decided to be a fucking tease around me.” You let out a choked sob, knowing that he’s right. You didn’t tease him on purpose, but you still made him hurt everyday for months. 

His thrusts turned frenzied as he buried his face in the crook of your neck again. Only a few thrusts later and he was pushing all the way inside, the pressure on your cervix almost painful as he forced his cock in. He let out a low groan and you could feel him twitching against your walls as started to fill you. He stilled for a moment, breathing heavy, then leaned up to sit on his heels. 

He slowly pulled out, eyes never leaving your cunt, and cursed under his breath when his come started dripping out. Ignoring the blood on his dick, he swiped his fingers through the mess and pushed it back in your hole. As he watched some of it leak down to your ass, he made a mental note to buy some lube so he can fuck that soon too. 

“Did- did I help?” You whimpered, making his gaze move to you. He eyed your fucked out face, the way your cheeks were still wet with tears and your hair was tousled, and gave you a small smile. 

“You did, princess. Thank you. But this isn’t a permanent fix, okay? I meant what I said about you coming here every night.” Despite the softness of his voice, it was still stern, letting you know that this wasn’t a request, it was an order. You let out a quiet whimper at the thought of having to do this again, but as long as you were making him feel better, any pain you felt would be worth it. 

He grabbed your underwear to clean his cock, then pulled them back up your legs. You already made enough of a mess on his sheets, he didn’t need his come adding to it any more than it already did. When he laid back down and pulled you into him, you hissed in pain as you moved but eventually got comfortable enough to sleep. 

“Love you so much, princess. You did such a good job for me.” He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, making you smile. 

“Love you too, Daddy.” You mumbled sleepily. 

[imyourbratzdoll]

hi love, the last request i had that you did was amazing so i’m here again Lol, so my idea is smut, with either soft!dark nomad!steve rogers or maybe soft!dark lumberjack!henry cavill, whichever character you prefer, he’s really possessive and is always reminding reader that she’s his. like he’d go to the ends of the earth to make sure no one even looks at his girl the wrong way. and like maybe one day he gets irritated with the reader because she’s been acting out or maybe he got jealous because of something she did, but in return he shows her who she belongs to and he’s like “who do you belong to pretty girl?” or “talk to me sweet girl, who makes you feel this good?” smth like that bcuz dirty talking is my weakness hehe 🤭 love u and ur work💗💗

hey baby! I'm so sorry for taking so long, but I hope you like it!

summary - your husbands have been noticing something off with you, and they decide to punish you until you tell them what's wrong.

warning - smut, threesome, polyamorous, slight angst, swearing, punishment, creampie, oral sex, double penetration, dark men, mentions of death, assumptions of cheating.

18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, divider by @newlips

“What’s wrong with our little princess, huh?” You ignore them, not daring to look at them because you know you’d fold if you did. Steve walks over, kneeling before you and resting his large hand on your knee. “You will have to talk to us sometime soon.” Henry stands to the side of Steve, glaring down at you with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“If you don’t answer, bunny. We will be forced to punish you.” You huff, crossing your arms and leaning back into the couch. You squeal as your suddenly lifted and twisted into an uncomfortable yet satisfying position. Your head hangs over Henry’s knees while your crotch aligns with his. “Fine, I guess we’re forced to do this the hard way.” A moan falls from your lips as his thick fingers begin to rub your cloth-covered cunt, circling your swollen clit. “What do you think we should do with her, Steve? Hmm?” Your core throbs with how deep his voice is, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head at how handsome your men are. But you are mad. You can’t give in to them, no matter how much you want to cum around their thick, throbbing members.

“Hmm.” Your core clenches at the sound of Steve undoing his belt and taking out his thick, leaking cock. “We should edge her, not give our little princess what she desperately wants.” Before you can argue, he slides his cock between your lips, choking you on his member. Steve’s head falls back, “Fuck, you’re mouth feels amazing around me.” His hands come down and grip the sides of your head softly, thrusting in and out, taking you apart, enjoying the sight of your saliva gathering and flowing out of your mouth. “Go on, Henry. Give our princess’s little pussy a little bit more attention.” 

Henry chuckles, repeating Steve’s actions by undoing his belt and taking his prominent member out. “Get ready, bunny. You won’t be cumming at all unless you tell us why you’ve been acting like a little brat.” He groans as he slides his cock into your tight cunt, pushing past your walls and deep inside you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, moans blocked by Steve’s cock, sending vibrations through him, causing him to groan loudly. “Aww, our little bunny is making Stevie feel good with her mouth, huh?” You try to nod, but you’re so full. “Squeezing my cock so good, bunny. You going to tell us what’s wrong?” 

You whimper, sucking Steve’s cock desperately. Your hands come up and fondle his heavy sacks. Whines escape you as Henry begins to pound into you, hitting every place that makes you feel like you're on cloud nine. “Don’t be so mean, Henry. Our little princess can’t talk with her mouth full. She knows it’s rude, don’t you, princess?” You nod, fat tears filling your eyes. You can’t think properly, having two prominent men taking you apart, making you feel so many emotions. You sob as Steve pulls out of your mouth, tapping your cheek as he watches your face contort from Henry’s cock slamming into you. “C’mon, princess. Why have you been such a brat lately?” 

Your eyes cross, and your hearing becomes fuzzy. “Y–You don’t love me anymore!” You sob, walls rapidly clenching and unclenching around Henry, and a whine escapes you when he stops his movements. Your hips begin to move, trying to recreate the feeling. “Keep going!” The tears are now flowing down your face, making a mess. 

Henry and Steve look at each other with their brows furrowed, wondering why you would’ve thought this and what they did for you to feel this way. “Princess, we love you so much. Why would you ever think otherwise?” Steve cups your cheek as Henry lifts you to sit you onto his lap correctly. 

Henry grips your hips and stares at you with sad eyes. “Steve’s right, bunny. We love you so much, and not a day goes by that we don’t think about you. You are our bunny, our princess.” You pout, mind foggy from being seconds away from an orgasm to now having to talk about your feelings. You know there’s no way of escaping this, and you know you should communicate more, especially since the last time you acted like this.

Your pout deepens, “I saw how you acted with that woman… It seemed like you would’ve rather had her instead of me because what can I offer?” You can feel yourself choke up as you remember a few days back how you had walked outside to give your husbands a drink for all their hard work, only to find them staring at the new neighbour as she spoke, a tiny dress and bouncy hair. How they looked at her was how you had wished they would look at you, and that’s when the insecurities began because they barely even noticed you after that. They always seemed to go over to help her, being at her beck and call whenever she needed them. You didn’t know if they were cheating on you when they were over there. You had no clue what was happening. All you knew was that you were losing the men you loved. 

Steve and Henry could feel their hearts breaking as they realised how they had been neglecting you this whole time, making you feel like you meant nothing to them, making you think they’d rather have some bimbo over you. You never really knew that they had used that woman as fertiliser because they couldn’t have someone like that trying to break apart your marriage. You never questioned why your garden had grown more than usual, as they’d distract you with wooden things they had crafted for you. They’d only been going over to the woman’s house because they had seen some things you would like as your own, planning to gift them to you for your birthday and christmas. 

“Oh, princess, that’s not true at all. You are our world. We’d never want someone so used and pathetic, and we want you, our pure little baby.” Steve leans forward and brings you into a passionate kiss, pouring all of his love into you. 

“Steve’s right, bunny. You’re our little girl, our perfect little wife.” You moan as he moves your hips slowly against him, grinding you down, taking his turn to kiss your plump lips. You gasp as he lies you down, pulling you on top of him, allowing Steve to climb on top of you and slide alongside him, filling you with their giant cocks. They move slowly, pumping in and out of you, feeling their cocks harden more from the sounds that leave past your lips. “We only belong to you, bunny.” You whimper into Henry’s neck, crying from the intense pleasure.

“Talk to us, princess. Who makes you feel this good, huh?” Steve plunges into you, grunting as your walls clench around them. The feeling of their hands all over you, their cocks pounding into you, causes you to slowly slip from your mind, wondering how you had gotten so lucky. “C’mon, princess. Answer me.”

“You… Both!” Your eyes roll into the back of your head, vision becoming white as you squirt, your juices flowing out and covering your men. 

“That’s right, bunny. Us.” Henry growls, pounding fast before his head flies back and his eyes close, thick hot cum flowing out of his mushroom tip and deep into you. 

Steve grunts, placing soft kisses on your back as he buries himself deep inside you, his balls tightening, and he releases, filling you with his cum. Your eyes begin to flutter shut as you sag into your husband, falling asleep to them, whispering that they love you and pressing sweet kisses onto your body. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[mindofadoll]

I imagine being a server at some fancy restaurant when I get a very rich party in my section. Everyone in this restaurant knows these people. They run the city, not legally of course. However dirty money is still money so I take their orders. As I ask them for their orders the leading women, the Mafia's own princess of red, answers. "Me and the boys would like 3 bottles of 1985 Henri jayer richebourg Grand Cru red to start the night off with. However meal wise I will have a Lobster Fra Diavolo and a chocolate mousse. I that okay with you lovely? " I nod before scribbling down the order and taking the men's orders.

After getting all the orders I take them to the chief in the back I also warn the head chief about who would be receiving his Lobster Fra Diavolo. After I bring out the three bottles of wine to which I'm request by the mob princess to pour for her. As I'm pouring her glass I hear as she suddenly taps her foot which the guy next to me responds by bumping into me which causes me to spill some on to her pants.

I freeze in shock before lifting the bottle up and on to the table. I begin to apologize profusely. "It's okay bird, but I would like to be cleaned up? " I tell her of course before grabbing some napkins to clean her up with but before I can touch her she grabs my wrist. She clicks her tough before speaking "Girl don't you think that's a waste? Do you know how expensive this wine is? " before I can she responds again " Use your mouth to clean it up! " at this demand I begin to look around at the men at the table as they sneer at me.

"Sweet face what ya lookin around for? Its your mess, you got to clean it up. Or do you want to make me mad? " I shake my head no she responds with "good " before helping me down. As I sink to my knees I take one look at my coworkers who look away Before descending fully. I look up at her as she watches one of my coworkers finish pouring her wine.

As I go to lick the wine from her pants she moves my head to her pussy. I let out a small whine before licking again. To which she responds after sipping her wine "Doll, your soaking my pants their as expensive as the wine so suck don't lick." I nod before going back down to sucking. Too which she rocks her hips against me. I begin think about how euphoric it is to be doing this in such a public place.

This cause me to look up and see all the men's eyes starring at me. Which causes me to freeze again. The princess must of noticed where my nerves came from because she tells her boys to " Stop starring, she's mine. " as she grabs my chin. When they look away she begins to coo me "Your good, keep going doll." Which I oblige too.

As I suck on her, I hear as her food comes out. But I only stop when she grabs my chin so I look up at her. "You got it all doll. " I begin to stand up after that statement to which she stops me much to my dismay. "Baby, I meant you got all of it thats on my pants. Now that you finish that clean up the bit of whine that seeped through my pants. "

I begin to watch as she slides her slacks down to the point that the only piece of fabric separating me and her pussy is a pair of black lace panties. I look up at her before she pushes my head down this time she keeps her hand in my hair while she grinds into my face. As I suck I hear her moan a little. Upon hearing it I cross my legs which she notices.She then puts her leg in between my legs

" Baby slid my panties down and rub that pretty little clit against my leg. " with shaking hands I does as she says. Despite already having had my mouth on her something about the skin to skin is so much more intimate especially as I grind in to her leg while moaning into her cunt. At this point she not even trying to silence her moans breathing out sweet nothing's such as "Good girl, such a good little doll. " While she shoves my mouth against her clit. "Such a good little horny thing, fuck."  "Doll, when I saw you I knew I had to have you. I almost asked if I could drink that wine off those pretty tits. Fuck, baby keep rocking that pretty pussy against me. "

I begin to grind and lick faster as I help chase both of are releases. As all of her calm demeanor melts away she refuses to let me up for air. To focus on her own high. I begin to feel her legs shake as she cums in my mouth. She let's go of my head as she encourages me to to cum against her leg which I do with a loud scream. After I fall limp she picks me up and puts me in her lap. "Have you ever had Lobster Fra Diavolo?" To which I respond with a no "Well my girl gets to enjoy every luxury in life. " she then lifts her fork to my mouth to which I take a bite of her Lobster Fra Diavolo. "How's it tastes?" I tell her that all I can taste right now is her to which she sneers at me before saying "My doll, is so hot. " I think about how I guess I don't have to finish my shift as I curl into her lap.

[heecyon]

𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 & 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒; 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 —teaser

pairing: ceo!park sunghoon x coffee shop owner!fem!reader

genre: one night stand, fake relationship, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, and accidental pregnancy.

summary: Park Sunghoon was done with his grandfather begging for an heir. Being the CEO of the Northern Branch, Sunghoon wasn't ready for a relationship just yet and neither was he ready to have a baby. So, after being arranged a blind date, he meets you, and soon convinces you to run away with him far away from your dates, as you were arranged a blind date as well with a different guy. And after a night of talking, flirting and alcohol, you both ended up in an hotel bed. Being attracted to an stranger wasn't in your plans, but soon everything goes to hell when you discover that you are pregnant with sunghoon's child.

release date: between late november and mid-december

2nd installment for CEOs & ARRANGEMENTS with enha 02z

“So, you’re a CEO?”

Sunghoon’s cheeks blushed from the amount of alcohol that he had chugged down. And you were not innocent, either, your hair was kind of messy from how much time you had combed it back with your fingers, and your mind was racing in a million places because of the two bottles of Henri Bourgeois that you had shared with the flushed boy in front of you.

“Yep, Park Sunghoon, Northern Branch.” His voice came out like a tumble, his mind not processing what his sentences meant. He was not a person to drink, he usually did not do it, especially with a person he just met, and especially not in his hotel room, but tonight he felt in a place of trust, and you felt the same, except that the only difference was that you were somebody to drink with friends, but not with people who you had just met.

You pressed your elbows against the table, your teeth clutching against the tip of your nail. “Who would’ve thought that I’d be sitting in front of the famed Park Sunghoon? I guess it’s a one-in-a-million-type of situation.” “Especially, if I’m getting drunk on glasses of wine while having him sat across from me.”

“Who would’ve thought? I just came to New York to finish some unsolved company partnerships, and now I’m ending my trip with a forced blind date that I just escaped from, with a pretty, tipsy girl who I took with me in the process.” He answered sluggishly, his brows lifting up with sarcasm as he spoke.

Your brain suddenly stopped tracing around, by just emphasizing one word he said.

“You think I’m pretty?” Your voice came out like a wave, a small smile setting on your mouth.

“Why wouldn’t I? You are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

“It makes me happy that you think I’m pretty, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t think that I’m pretty. I’m pretty sure that I’m pretty.” You suddenly rambled, the words came out fast as a train, all because your nerves and the alcohol took complete control over you. But, Sunghoon just found it funny in his drunken state, he found it adorable, to say the least.

He was almost slushed on the table, his arm being completely settled on the wooden board.

For you, he looked so handsome, his arms were toned, and it was visible against his dress shirt, his fingers slender and delicate, you were convinced that his hands were soft as silk pillows.

But his face was absolutely gorgeous, with features that could've been chosen by the Greek Gods themselves.

"You are so handsome, like really handsome, the type of handsome that was kissed and blessed by Aphrodite and Princess Diana." The words vomited out of your mouth like a splutter. You weren't expecting your drunken state to reveal such a thought, but when you looked at Sunghoon it didn't seem to bother him.

"Kissed by Aphrodite and Princess Diana? Never heard of such compliment." His voice came out slurred and dazed, but it sounded as if he was in a dream-like state.

His lips were red and glossy, his eyes shone from the reflection of the New York lights. The more you looked at his lips, the more you wanted him to touch every part of your body.

"Well, now you've heard it…"

He tapped his chin for a moment before unexpected words came out of his mouth.

"What if I told you that it would be a real compliment if you told me that I was kissed by you?" Your heart skipped a beat as your stomach fell and came back up from the impression. Your heartbeat quickened and did everything it could to go back to normal.

You got up from your chair, walking towards him with tremendous mischief. I'm pretty sure it was the immense amounts of alcohol acting up for you.

His figure sat in front of you, his gaze analyzing every single part of your body, especially your lips, and the shimmer on your eyes.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Oh, Cindy! I want you to do that and more."

Never in your life did you think that you would be taking a pregnancy test inside a pharmacy bathroom.

But you were going through desperate times. It needed to be done as quickly as possible. It was mostly because you needed to calm your frantic nerves and also get out of any doubts that you had. The worst part was the fact that you wouldn't be worrying about this if you just didn't run away from your blind date with a complete stranger.

Complete stranger that could possibly be the father of this possible baby.

You just needed to confirm if you were actually pregnant.

"Shit!"

Two lines.