Tumgik
#how to keep your home neat and clean
meenusworld105-blog · 5 months
Text
Apne Ghar ko Saf Suthra Rakhne Ki Saral Yukti | Simple Trick To Keep Your Home Neat and Clean #shorts#meenusworld#viral#trending#youtubeshorts
0 notes
inupibaldspot · 7 months
Text
Back off,kid.
Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : (Teen)Gojo is jealous over (kid) Fushiguro having a crush on you.
Tumblr media
Fushiguro Megumi always wonders if he made the right choice every time a white-haired sunglass wearing teenager walks into the house.
The tall older boy would grin as his hands form a salute. “You doing good Megumi and Tsumiki?”
He was as useful as the indoor plants. Fushiguro thought.
Gojo wasn’t much good at cooking and neither helped with cleaning, probably because of his rich background—but he did spoil them with lots of food and pocket money but he wouldn’t ever admit that.
As much as Fushiguro would love to throw insults at Gojo, he holds back his tongue each time; Tsumiki would send sharp glare and nag him if he did.
The first friend he brought to visit them was a girl; it was after Gojo went missing for a while and when Tsumiki inquired about it ,he simply said one of his dear friend went cray-cray as his finger twirls at the temple of his head.
The girl had short, brown hair with a distinct smell of cigarette; her name was Shoko Ieiri. She wore an impressed look when she entered the house as she looked over to Gojo. “Heh— The place is pretty neat,Gojo.”
Fushiguro looked to Gojo who placed some groceries on the counter top with a proud smile on his face. “I know right!” Gojo replies.
The young boy frowns. “It’s Tsumiki who keeps the place clean.” Shoko gives Gojo a stare before she cackles.
A week later when Tsumiki was still in school with club activities, another person makes an appearance ,you. He could faintly hear conversations between you and Gojo through the front door on how you’d actually wanted to visit them sooner but was bombarded with mission before it swings open.
The first thing Fushiguro noticed was how Gojo seemed to make you enter first— other times he barges in without a care for Shoko— his hands near your back with a slight space, without touching it. Why was Gojo being nice?
You blink at the dark haired boy. “Fushiguro Megumi, right?” Gojo peers from behind as you smile. “Did you eat?”
“Not yet. Waiting for Tsumiki to get home.” Fushiguro thinks you’re the first person who is kind of decent.
You nod take plastic bag from Gojo’s hands and lift up it, your smile widen. “I’ll make you some good stuff then.”
“I want to eat your cooking too,y/n.” Gojo chirps in only to be ignored. And to your credit, it was actually good. He didn’t remember the last time he had something this good home made.
After that, your visits seemed to increase which Fushiguro Megumi did not mind, in fact he was getting fond of your presence. You helped with food, cleaning which lessened the load on Tsumiki plus you also helped him with his studies.
“You seemed to get it now, Megumi.” Poor kid, blushes a bit hearing your compliment. “Practice this set of questions and I think you’ll do pretty well on your tests.” You smile.
Fushiguro nods as he does as you say, face still heated up. He looks up at you, who was reading a book. Your hair slightly in your face, lips slightly parted with eyes focused. You were extremely beautiful and as much as he wouldn’t admit it , he had a big fat kid crush on you.
“Megumi-chan.” Suddenly he is shoved to the side as a body makes way in between you and him. It was Gojo who sat in between. “Move over~ This seat is mine.”
The boy frowns and so did you, not liking Gojo’s action. “Don’t interrupt the kid, who is studying.” Kid? Ouch…You huff as your move over, despite you complaining you make space for him, focus back on your book.
Fushiguro watched as Gojo leans closer to you, almost resting his head on your neck as he looked over to your book; after a while eyes slowly moved over to you, his expression softens.
Gojo smiles as he tugs a piece of hair behind your hair, to which you don’t react as if it was normal. Thee older man then turns his head to Fushiguro—oops,he got caught staring.
The white haired boy then grins, a condescending one in fact as he mouths out the following words.
‘y/n-is-mine.” Fushiguro huffs. ‘back-off.”
·:*¨༺ Part 2༻¨*:·
Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here
9K notes · View notes
kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months
Note
i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while he‘s gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. he‘s so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, he‘s never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her boss‘s infatuation until she‘s not, he‘s so awkward around her she thinks he just doesn‘t wanna be disturbed, but she doesn‘t know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he can‘t help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((
Tumblr media
Banner picture credit: @661ave
possession
noun
the state of having, owning, or controlling something.
Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint.  A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon… This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you haven’t read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)
He’s good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.
And he keeps his house neat and clean: that’s not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life – love life included because there is none. 
He always ensured he’s not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.
He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesn’t hate house chores… but he doesn’t like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. It’s big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesn’t have any. 
Family, or friends, that is.
When he hears that his co-worker – the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids – hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesn’t have a chaos in his home, but he’s got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, it’s only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?
It’s just that he didn’t expect housemaids to be this… cute. 
There are quite a few applications, and he’s a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need? 
Another thing he didn’t expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. It’s the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. It’s clearly for his delight because it’s not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir. 
She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a woman’s touch, no one has ever baked anything here…
And he certainly doesn’t expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.
She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how she’s had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven. 
He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, it’s not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. He’s barely even home, so it’s good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?
He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, he’s thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago. 
It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a women’s conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. There’s a pair of women’s underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs he’d have to fold himself this time because she’s in a hurry to catch her bus. 
He’s far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldn’t care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy. 
When he finds out she’s busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that she’s sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so there’s no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when he’s away. 
It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. He’s never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now he’s pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home. 
Even if she’s not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she might’ve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard. 
It’s nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.
His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.
It’s unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true… But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube. 
Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.
He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if she’s noisy in bed – is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her? 
And god, how he would fuck her… 
Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaft…
He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob. 
He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps she’d give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.
"Scheisse–"
He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks.  
She's just his maid, a hired employee. She’s just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.
He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company… He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.
She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.
She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of. 
Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.
Is this what a home should look like…? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things? 
But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.
He gets it before her next visit – meaning, her next shift – and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope – hell, a full surge of it – and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men don’t fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.
With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all. 
There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.
What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?
He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.
He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job. 
The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.
Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.
So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up. 
She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for him…
She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.
"I got you something... Merry Christmas."
"Aw… You shouldn't have…"
She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.
"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." 
He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.
He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like he’s trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he can’t quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb. 
Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good for… 
"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically. 
Ach so… She’s ashamed for not getting him a present. 
Well, shit. Fuck.
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I mean… I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."
"That’s nice to hear." 
"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."
He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.
"You already got me Christmas decorations."
"Yeah, but… You paid for them."
"Aber... You baked for me. No one's ever–"
He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.
"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways. 
"I truly did."
She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them… it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.
"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. She’s still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying. 
"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."
She gives her last smile to him; it’s sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.
"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.
"Yes?"
"I… Ah, glückliches neues Jahr."
"...What does that mean?" 
"It means 'Happy New Year'."
"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughty…"
Shit.
Shit.
Shit…
"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."
She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that he’s not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.
"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.
"Something naughty."
Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too. 
"Really…?"
"Yes."
"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."
Playful, naughty, dirty. 
She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.
Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening? 
"I want to lick your pussy."
There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.
"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"
"Ja."
It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldn’t be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.
Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress. 
With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.
When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. She’s either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then she’s concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.
"Go ahead then," she whispers.
He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.
She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil… If she knew, she would be out the door by now.
It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips. 
Mein.
Mein.
Mein…
He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so that’s what he’s going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. There’s only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.
Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - he’s not an expert, but he knows she won’t find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country… Perhaps the entire world.
And she's not a screamer, she’s a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.
He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin. 
"Just like that… Just like that… Don't stop…"
He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries. 
To help her out – because he's a generous, generous man – he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.
"Oh god ohgod oh fuck–!"
She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like she’s his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams. 
The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin. 
Women need a lot of stimulation; that’s what he has learned. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesn’t want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined. 
Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.
And he's only about to fuck her…
"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.
"Oh–oh god…"
Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds. 
"Wait–"
"I will fuck you now."
"Sir… Please, could we use a condom? Please…"
She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for. 
"Hm. I don't have any."
"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a year’s worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child... 
But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.
Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...? 
How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?
She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft. 
"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to… Good, long, deep and hard.
She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is… Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go. 
"It's… okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just… If you're clean?"
"I am."
He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.
And he’s clean; he keeps everything…in ordnung.
He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.
"Ah ja… Das ist schön… Sehr schön."
Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck… He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove. 
"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"
It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.
"Ok…" 
"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"
"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so good…"
The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that…? He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.
"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.
"O‐oh…?"
"Ja… It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."
"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "Please…"
If this is a dream, it’s the best dream he’s ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness. 
"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."
He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that he’s truly inside the sweetest pussy he’s ever had. 
He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely. 
"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"
"Yes… Oh fuck, I'm…"
Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he can’t get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.
He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this won’t be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog. 
"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut… Ach für–scheisse—"
He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck. 
She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning… But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.
"Ok… Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"
She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out – now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.
"Will you stay? For the night…?"
His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content. 
"I… I'd really like to but… I can't. I have a party to attend.”
She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while he’s plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity. 
She just needed a fuck… She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck… She's even worse than him.
“I'm sorry..."
"It's ok," he hears himself say. She’s too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.
For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.
He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything clean…
She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. It’s held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.
She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.
He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.
It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours… He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.
The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women. 
When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.
"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."
There’s a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. It’s a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.
And has she walked all the way back here…? There’s no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.
"You’re afraid to fall in love…?"
She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thing…
"Liebling... Me too."
"Really?” she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. “You seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."
"Oh I fear a lot of things."
"Like what?"
"Like… flying, for example."
"But you fly all the time?"
"Exactly."
She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say she’d never sleep with a freak like him…
"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."
She won’t come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldn’t get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.
If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one. 
"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then we’ll tuck you in. That sound gut?"
"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sir…"
"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."
She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in. 
He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldn’t feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.
What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs. 
This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like it’s already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. He’s been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps that’s why she doesn’t run away from him. 
"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.
"...What?" 
He barely hears what she’s saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because he’s there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if he’s crouching next to the tub in reality.
"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.
"What do you mean.”
She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.
"You're… Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."
He tries to remember how to breathe, but she’s not done yet.
"I'm sorry but… No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."
Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.
So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her… Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latter…
And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy. 
But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a joke…
"You’re literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"
"I'm not… right in the head, I guess."
"Well, neither am I."
He can’t look at her. Not when she’s open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.
"No one is."
"No. Wirklich, I’m a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to your…" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes. 
"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind… Actually I think that's hot."
"Liebling…"
"I think I’ve had enough now. Can we go to bed…?"
"Of course."
She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets. 
He doesn’t need to fuck her, not right now. It’s enough that she’s here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his. 
Not another lonely Christmas for him ever again…
And she latches herself onto him like he’s the saviour she’s been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise. 
He’s single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.
But he knows she’ll stay. He’ll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.
"Are you still afraid?"
He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. She’s unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness. 
"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."
4K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 4 months
Text
summary: your roommate James plots to befriend a shy you
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words
The apartment is loud and messy when you come home, and James immediately feels bad about it. You freeze in the door like a doe in the woods, a few of his friends pausing their conversations to greet you from where they’re scattered haphazardly about the living room. 
You give a terse smile and beeline for the stairs. You’re wearing your work clothes, dirty and rumpled from a long shift, and it doesn’t escape James’ notice that you’ve bypassed the kitchen in your hurry to get to your room. You seem to have an aversion to being witnessed. He makes a mental note to check that you’ve eaten later. 
“Oh, do you work at Rizzo’s?” Lily asks you, evidently recognizing the uniform. You stall halfway up the stairs, and James suppresses a smile at your obvious reluctance. 
“Yeah,” you reply, voice even quieter than usual. 
“My friend works there.” Lily’s friendly demeanor is unphased by your timidity. The two of you have met before, like you’ve met most of his friends, in passing. “Do you know Mona?” 
You nod, easing up a bit. James wonders at the fact that you’ve lingered as long as you have, but then he notices Sirius noticing you, and he prays his friend doesn’t say anything to make you regret it. 
“Yeah, we’ve worked some of the same shifts,” you say. “She’s nice.” 
Lily grins at the confirmation. James braces himself as Sirius angles his head. 
“What do you do there, lovely?” 
The endearment instantly flusters you. Your shoulders tighten and your hand flexes on the banister as though to keep yourself from bolting. “I’m a host,” you say. 
“That’s nice.” Sirius’ grin is intentionally disarming, lopsided and flirtatious. You look as though you’re not sure what to make of it. “I’m sure it makes for good business to have the pretty girls welcoming customers.” 
It’s your last straw. You mumble something about it being nice to see them and all but dash up to your room. James hears your door shut with a soft click. 
Sirius frowns. “Skittish thing, isn’t she?” 
“Tosser.” Remus pulls him roughly against his side, rolling his eyes when Sirius wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s torso sulkily. 
“I was paying her a compliment.”  
“She’s just shy.” James doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain you, exactly. Your diffidence is fairly obvious now, but he still feels a bit guilty for thinking you just hated him when he first moved in. After knowing Remus for so long, he thought he’d be able to tell the difference between shyness and standoffishness. Now apparently he feels responsible for liaising between you and his friends. “You knew you were going to embarrass her, prick.” 
The conversation turns to Sirius’ tendency to verbally prod at those with quieter demeanors, which he denies vehemently and Remus corroborates with pointed looks but not much commentary. 
Once they’ve gone, James goes up to your room with a sandwich. The door is cracked but he knocks anyway, waiting for your quiet “come in” before he pushes it the rest of the way open. 
“Figured you might’ve missed dinner,” he says by way of greeting, going to set the plate down on your bed. 
It takes effort not to let his eyes roam the room. He can see in his periphery that your desk is cluttered but neat and your walls covered with pictures and art. An effect of your reticence is that, aside from what sort of shampoo you use and how often you need to restock the milk in the fridge, James knows very little about you. He knows you’re a good roommate. You’re clean, you don’t bicker about the thermostat, and you haven’t even seemed cross with him for eating the rest of your oreos (which he’s going to replace, seriously, as soon as he remembers to go to the store). You’re quiet, obviously, but along with that you seem kind. 
Honestly, it makes him a bit uncomfortable that you don’t seem to want to be friends. James is only human; he likes being liked, even more so by nice girls with pretty smiles, and it seems crucial that he be liked by nice girls with pretty smiles who he shares a living space with. If you’re going to brush your teeth using the same sink as somebody, you should be on good terms. James believes this. 
And though he hasn’t had to work so hard for friendship in some years, he is diligent. He thinks he’ll bring you around yet. 
Evidence of progress: the happy-surprised look in your eyes when you spot the sandwich. 
“Thank you,” you say, a tender sort of bemusement lining your words. “You didn’t have to do this.” 
“Well, if you’ve actually missed dinner, you probably ought to eat something more substantial,” James hedges. He pushes his luck, sitting across from you on your bed. “I don’t want to be an accomplice to your snacks-for-meals agenda.” That wins him a small smile. “But I do feel bad, keeping you from your own kitchen because I have friends over.” 
Your eyes flit away at the last bit. You take a hearty bite of your sandwich, chewing to avoid a reply.
“You should know, you are actually paying rent for the whole apartment,” he says, “not just your room.” 
You look chastened as you swallow, but you wave him off. “I would’ve gone down to get something later,” you say airily. “I didn’t want to infringe on your time with your friends.” 
“You?” James actually laughs. “Never. Trust me, we see plenty of each other. They could probably use a fresh face.”
You roll your eyes. It’s a ploy to keep from looking at him, he’s certain of it. “Well, regardless, you shouldn’t worry about it. I wasn’t starving.” 
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Your mattress creaks as James stands. Some of the stiffness to your posture eases, and he wonders if you’re relieved to see him go, but you look up with another small smile. Pretty. 
“Thanks for the sandwich,” you say. 
“You should really have another one,” he replies, grinning back because of forces beyond his control. He starts backing out of the room. “Do you want me to make it? Actually, don’t answer that. I’m making it.” 
Your quiet laughter follows him down the stairs. 
2K notes · View notes
chaosandmarigolds · 6 months
Text
yeah yeah Simon Riley with an equally badass partner sounds great but-
pre-k teacher?
Simon swore he had never seen something so...perfect in his life, and he had seen something pretty amazing things for all of the horrible things
Simon who is pretty certain he isn't good for you, after all he towers over you and whenever he does come by to help Price with a bake sale the kids stare up at him as if he's quite literally...a ghost
Simon and all of his scariness that melted away when you smiled up at him, a sweet thank you on your lips as you took the box to help clean out your classroom for the summer
Simon who told price he would find a way home on his own so he could stay to help you get all of the decoration down from the walls and get everything packed away
Simon who would snatch something he deemed too heavy with a hoarse, 'I gotchit, luv' not even realizing the pet name slipped out because it felt so...natural
Simon even though he tried to make your son sit on the small patch of carpet and keep him entertained with his book- he ended up becoming a playgym and babysitter while you did most of the heavy lifting
Simon who found your son to actually be pretty neat, unlike a lot of other children, telling the kid very censored versions of his time in the war as the little guy sat atop of his shoulders
Simon tried to very politely decline the dinner invitation (plus ride home) once the room was all packed up but gave in when you aptly took his hand and began to drag him to your car
Simon sat in the passenger seat as you apologized for the toy car that lay in the seat as you buckled your son into his car seat, smiling at the small photo that sat snug on the car screen
Simon encouraged the boys to sing along to the obscure children's song while you scolded him for it in the form of a light pat on the leg as you drove to the nearest child friendly restaurant (chick-fil-a or something along those lines)
Simon who paid for the dinner against your many denials and used it as the perfect excuse to hold your hand as he tapped the card against the reader
Simon who watched in wonder as you helped your son get his little boots untied so he could go play in the play area, your delicate hands and smile upon your perfect face...
Simon listened intently to everything you rambled about, from the happiness of teaching and why you chose it to your son and how he was the greatest blessing in disguise you had been given- funny, because he thought that about you
Simon when he heard that you would have to find a nanny for your son for over the summer since you'll need a second job wouldn't let that be for even a millionth of a second
''ll watch 'em, luv."
"Simon, that's so kind bu-"
"No buts, like the lil' guy, no problem."
Simon who does like the little boy you call your son, but who was mainly using the free babysitting as a reason to see you
Like it?? Part two is right Here!
2K notes · View notes
loveemagicpeace · 1 year
Text
Mars and what you attract
🎸Mars represents how you attract people and in what way. What kind of energy do you give off and how do people see you. Where you feel the best and where your energy is the best. At the same time, Mars represents male energy, which means that it also represents what kind of men you can attract.
🩶Mars in 1st house-your attractiveness is seen from the outside and people can quickly notice your energy. You are a person who always reacts to what is happening and knows how to stand up for yourself. People can sometimes see you as someone who is too impulsive or angry. You feel best when you do something for yourself and exercise or play sports. You can attract men who play sports, they are more muscular. It can also be men who are self-centered or put a lot of effort into their appearance.
🌹Mars in 2nd house-your attractiveness can be seen through your scent (perfume), skin or something related to skin care. You can have a lot of passion for cooking and food (you always want to enjoy food). You seek your energy through beauty and value. You can spend a lot on luxury or money. You want everything to happen slowly and to enjoy everything. You can attract men who have a lot of money or men who give you a lot.
🏝️Mars in 3rd house-your attractiveness shows through your speech, writing. People can often feel your passion through the way you speak. Writing can bring you great joy and passion. You can also have a great passion for books or things related to it. You can also give a lot of energy to your relatives and siblings. You can attract men who multitask or are all over the place, talkative, you can also be with someone who is a teacher, a writer.
🩷Mars in 4th house-your attractiveness shows when you are perhaps least well-groomed or at home in comfortable clothes. Your emotional energy is attractive to people. Mars is somehow hidden in this house and you can be a person who shares passion only with people who are really close to them or family. Your passion manifests itself through arranging your home, organizing things, enjoying time with your family. But you feel best in your own space at home. You can attract men who are more into family, are caring, emotional , maybe moody.
🎨Mars in 5th house-your attractiveness shows when you are doing something or being active, people often find you attractive when you are in action. You give a lot of your energy to hobbies, joy and enjoyment in general. You can find a lot of passion through romance, or it can even bring you the most joy. You prefer to do the things you did when you were a child or teenager. You always want to keep your teenage energy. You attract men who are confident, charismatic, proud, you can also be someone who likes to play games or childish men.
☁️Mars in 6th house-your attractiveness is shown through your body - people often like your body structure, organization, healthy lifestyle. You feel best when you invest your energy in being proactive, organized, doing something good for your body and keeping your body healthy. But a lot of energy can also go to work - you can become obsessed with work, which can be bad or can it affect your health. You can also feel the best among animals. You attract men who are hardworking, organized, picky, like to clean or someone who likes to work with animals. It can also be a veterinarian, a fitness trainer...
🌙Mars in 7th house-people like your beauty, neatness, style and justice. You feel your best when you get along well with everyone and your relationships are good. You can also feel your best when you are in a relationship. You devote a lot of energy to others and put a lot into making your relationship successful. You can also put a lot into your beauty and always looking beautiful. You attract men who are beautiful, who care a lot about their appearance and neatness. Men who are charming.
🫧Mars in 8th house-your attractiveness is shown through intimate or sexual attraction (many times people can find you attractive in this way). And also through the power you carry with you. You feel best when you have control and power over yourself and when you are emotionally stable. You can feel the best in your own space that no one knows about. You have a lot of intense energy in you, but you show it on the outside. You can feel good when you are spiritual, you can do research - you can also do astrology. You attract men who are very attractive and you can hardly resist them because they have such energy in them. Men who can be jealous, possessive, controlling, persistent, deep.
⛵️Mars in 9th house-your attractiveness shows through your energy, intelligence, stories. You have the most passion for travel, research, other cultures, places. These people usually always have a place that is their favorite or they like to go there very much. Passion for life itself means a lot to you, and through this you find that too. You travel a lot and are active, and that's where you put the most energy. You feel best when you travel. Traveling gives you a special energy and energy that you need to relax. You can attract men who are optimistic, adventurous, like to travel, teachers, professors, someone from a foreign country or culture.
🌿Mars in 10th house-your attractiveness is seen outwardly and in public, many times people can see you as very attractive. People may like how persistent, hardworking and successful you are. Usually these people are their own bosses and many of them you find attractive. You put your energy into success and reputation - maybe you can focus too much on work and people around you or how you will turn out. You can also give a lot of energy to your parents or elderly people. You can hang out a lot with your father, grandfather... You attract older men, men who are stable, serious, respectable, successful. Men who may somehow remind you of your father or have similar qualities. A man who respects you and can also be influential.
🎾Mars in 11th house-your attractiveness can often be seen on social networks. People can find you there as a very attractive person (perhaps because of your difference and uniqueness). Many times people find something attractive about you that you don't have (they can also find strange things that they find attractive about you). You put your energy into friends, socializing, your dreams and goals. You can also spend a lot of time trying to achieve your dreams, but at the same time you can also spend a lot of time on social networks. There are two types of people here: one type when you invest a lot in your friends and do a lot for them and want to have a group to belong to. Another type is that you can be alone a lot or feel better when you are alone and work on your interests. You attract men who can be strange, different, unique in some way.
💘Mars in 12th house-your attractiveness manifests itself in a mysterious way, people find you mysteriously beautiful and many times they like your soul and energy in general and they don't even know why. Like, they like your spiritual side and you can give off mermaid vibes. You put a lot of energy into art, drawing, writing, creating music, dancing - something that is more connected to the soul. You have many special and hidden talents. The best thing for your energy is to be by the ocean - anything related to it will give you peace and a relaxing vibes. Places by the ocean are some of the best. You have a very beautiful, strong and special energy. You attract men who are artistic, spiritual, emotional, self-sacrificing, you can also attract men from another country or someone who lives by the sea. Also you can find your soulmate and you feel the person through the energy - without even speaking.
✨ig-bekylibra✨
-Rebekah⛵️🩵🎨
4K notes · View notes
teastyun · 3 months
Text
༻ pound town
arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: i'm going to war (exam phase is about to start), therefore i must make haste (my hiatus starts again). also, i got a new job so i'm not sure when my hiatus will end :(
pt. 1 ; masterlist
grabbing the broom from the back of your mechanics shop, you start you usual closing routine as the streets of Zaun more active as the day ends. growing up in Zaun, you appreciate the livelihood of the people, but grew wary of the criminality rising abruptly at the end of each day. enforcers started to patrol the quiet streets of Zaun and hang up missing posters of Jinx, who you've been visited by for several occasions over the last few months for tech equipment she required. you grew fond of the girl and would occasionally even slip a few extra pieces, and she would thank you proudly by telling you about her latest new technological improvements.
one time, she told you about a prosthesis as her newest invention. Sevika immediately came to your mind and the way she held your cheek the last and first time you saw her. or the way her bionic arm held your hips so strongly as you rode her strap. shit, you really are down bad for this woman who doesn't even know your name.
as several months gone by since then, you managed to gather your savings and invest it into your shop for new techs and products to sell. you were finally able to call your shop your full time job and scrap your shifts at the brothel completely. Sevika didn't only save your shop, but she saved you from drowning in exhaustion as the only thing you ever did was work day and night.
you hoped to see her again, but your hope was slowly scarped as each month passed by.
after sweeping the last corner of your shop, you only had to rearrange your products before you could finally leave to go home. as you tidied the screws collection, the door to your shop opened audibly by your crystals dangling from the person entering.
"we're closed-" you start, but stop as you see the person at the entrance.
there she was, standing in her usual cloak and a hood that hid her face, but you recognised her nonetheless. she took her hood off with a smile as she looked at you. "good to see you again."
suddenly, you felt naked again. although she knew your identity (prolly even the whole time), the mask would hide your facial expressions and reactions. now, you are standing there with a shocked impression written on your face, unsure of how to react to the person that is the reason for your shop to still be alive.
"i see you created something out of this shop since the last time I've seen you," she speaks with a soft smile on her lips as she takes a look around in your shop. "thank you. you were actually a huge help last time we've seen each other," you respond, your hands linked together behind your back as you turn to look around your shop.
honestly, your shop is quite shady from outside with its half-broken broken neon sign spelling the name mechs n' treasures. but once you enter, you quickly realise that it's a one man's business by it's intricate appearance. it has so much personality now that you have as much time as you'd like to spent in it, decorating it with your favourite things you've collected over the years that weren't too precious to be displayed in your small flat above your shop. a few colourful crystals dangle around your entrance and the door to your flat, reflecting the neon lights from the streets of Zaun onto the mechanic pieces you sell. tidiness is your top priority, since it's hard to keep such an old shop neat and clean. you love your old and shady, but precious personal shop and wouldn't wish it to be any different. business seemed to be booming recently, too. you had no idea why, but Zaun is a quick and fast learning city with its advantages and disadvantages, resulting in people visiting your shop to buy the pieces they require for their newest project.
now, Sevika is standing in the centre of your shop, taking one of the mechanical pieces into her hands and looking at it in detail.
"can i help you with something?" you ask, looking at her with curiosity. after she puts the mechanic piece back into its tray, she says "I was hoping you could me out with this."
she reveals her bionic arm, where you see the its shimmer capsules completely shattered. surprised, you walk towards her and take her bionic arm into her hand to have a closer look. you inhale her smoky scent and suddenly were confronted with a vivid memory of the first night you guys met at the brothel, as you sat in her lap writhing under her touch. focus. you twisted a few pieces to inspect the reachability of the broken capsules. "I assume you won't be able to take it off?" you ask her, your eyes still fixed on an odd piece you've found.
she shakes her head, "it would be a hazard trying to put it on afterwards. do you think you'll still manage to repair, though?"
after twisting the last few pieces for inspection, you leave her arm. "shouldn't be no issue," you take a look at your wristwatch and notice how late it already is. a few extra minutes won't hurt, you decide.
you nod towards the counter, "take a seat, i'll be right with you."
entering the back of your shop and take a big breath. fuck, this intimidating woman still effects you after several months. at this point, you were sure you even forgot about her.
you grab your toolbox and head to Sevika, who is waiting for you behind your counter on a chair. her cloak is thrown over your register's desk, revealing a similar outfit you saw at the brothel. only now you realise how muscular this woman actually is. her arm is almost fully exposed by her sleeveless top and a choker around her neck makes you shake off your dirty thoughts.
you place the toolbox on the counter before you take a seat next to it. Sevika watches every move of yours, making you even more nervous than you already are.
grabbing your first tool, you lay her arm in you lap and start unscrewing the plates that cover the isolation of the shimmer capsules. her arm felt heavy, but oddly warm in your lap for the fact that it's broken. you remember how the same arm pinned you down on her strap a few months ago.
your brain is almost about to malfunction if Sevika wouldn't have interrupted your thoughts, "so, how is your shop going?" she asks as she leans the side of her upper body on the counter. when you look down at her, she's only mere centimetres away from your face. her grey eyes digging into yours. your pussy clenches as your breathing stops at the sight of her. you quickly look away and focus on her arm again. "it's going well," you start and grab for another tool to remove the shattered pipes. "sometimes it's exhausting to handle a shop alone, but you get used to it, you know."
her eyes follow your movements on her arm while she hums as an indication for you to continue. "once, a dude i recognised from the brothel came to pick up a few things and i couldn't help but wonder what his day job is. he was a sex worker as well, so he probably even recognised me," you tell her. it's unusual for you to share thoughts and memories of your old job. you weren't ashamed of it, but you much happier spending your time in your own shop and not thinking back to your old routine.
she shifts in her seat to look up at you, "i'm glad you were able to escape that shit hole, beautiful," she says quietly, careful of the words she chooses, "do you still remember that night?"
your movements halt immediately at her questions and you felt her eyes laying heavily on you, watching every single movement. the way you took a deep breath, trying not to appear nervous around her. the mere thought of that night made you feel butterflies in your stomach and wetness in your core.
"i do," you confess. without meeting her eyes, you continue your maintenance on her bionic arm in your lap, trying to suppress the urge of jumping into her lap and kissing her senseless. "do you?" you ask in almost a whisper, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.
when she didn't, your eyes travelled to hers in question. she seemed to be in deep thoughts as well before she asked "how couldn't i?"
her eyes finally meet yours and you recognise such sincerity and trust in them, you couldn't help the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips.
"you were the only thing on my mind in this cruel world," she continues, making you feel several things at once. "and i don't even know your name."
you chuckled and referred your eyes back to your almost finished work, concentrating on exchanging the pipes.
"so, you're not even going to tell me?" she asks amused.
"what, my name?" you act oblivious, knowing exactly what she wanted. now it was her turn to chuckle at your teasing. "you can be a pain in the ass, you know that?"
you shake your head in disbelief with a smile on your lips as you screw on the last iron plate on her arm.
"move it," you command and she obliges. she moves her joints, making the shimmer that was left in her tank fuel her new pipe, while moving it a few more times in several directions. you've never seen machinery working with shimmer so closely. you wonder how the metal felt like against your skin.
ripping you out of your trance, she stands up. right in front you, almost between your legs, which you desperately wanted to close at the sight as you felt your pussy clench.
"thank you," she looks at you, her eyes wandering from your neck down to the rest of your body. it's like she can't help herself, checking you out as you sit on her cloak next to your work instruments.
"you even look beautiful in your casual attire," she whispers as her eyes meet yours again.
"so," you wrap your index finger through her choker, "how about taking it off and see what's hidden underneath?" you cock your head before you pull her closer. your legs are opened by her thighs between them as she looks down at you, clearly surprised by your boldness. "i don't fuck nameless girls," she says in an equal tone to her low chuckle.
you take a quick look at her lips, wondering what they would feel like on yours. "didn't seem so last time we've seen each other."
your finger is still wrapped around her chocker as you grin. she didn't answer. she knows you're messing with her.
she places her arms on each of your sides, the sounds of her bionic arm moving leaving a shudder throughout your body. she's dangerously close.
"if i remember correctly, last time you've fucked yourself, princess."
shocked by her comment, your grin fades as you suddenly remember how you rode her in that brothel, eagerly chasing your orgasm as she guided you through it.
you let go of her choker and rest your hand at the back of her neck instead, caressing the soft strands of brunette hair as you try to maintain yourself.
"y/n," you whisper. Sevika's eyes widen at first, but a slight grin sets on her lips at the sound of your name.
"beautiful name, princess," she whispers back and you feel her breath on your lips with each sound she speaks.
you close your eyes as you feel her full lips grazing yours. "y/n," she whispers repeatedly. her lips finally touch yours, first cautiously but confident after a few seconds of lingering. you copy her motions and gasp when her tongue grazes your lower lip.
pressing her more firmly against yourself, you part your lips for her tongue to enter. she faintly tastes like cigarettes, but more of a harsh liquor you can't really pinpoint. your arms cling desperately around her neck, feeling her torso pressed around yours in your heated kiss. you lock her against your core with your legs around her hips, moaning as she leaves your lips to leave kisses on your neck. "you have no idea how often i thought of kissing you," she whispers before she trails down kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, licking the line of it and pressing soft bites against your sweet spots.
instead of responding, you pull her up again and lock your lips together. you press your lower body against her in search of the friction you desperately seek, but with no success. her lips form into a smirk against your lips as she realises what you're seeking.
frustrated, you separate yourself from her and motion for her to step aside, so you could jump of the counter. "i have a bed upstairs," you tell her. Sevika stands there confused, but god does she look hot. her lips are glazed from your spit and her hair looks slightly tousled from your hand that clung to it.
she doesn't let you move, though. instead, her hands are pressed firmly on your side as she still stand between your legs. "i thought that might be more comfortable..." you say, unsure of the current situation. she shifts in her stance to let you stand up.
"fuck, yes. i mean, yes, let's go upstairs," she chuckles after stumbling over her own words and her bionic arm moves to gesture you to lead the way. you laugh at her sudden awkwardness but go ahead to lock up your shop.
walking up the stairs, you fumble for your home's keys. Sevika followed you closely behind, touching your waist and kissing your neck as you try to unlock the door, a sigh escapes your lips as you try to unlock your door.
as the door closes behind you, she pins you against it. her hand holds your wrist against the door as she kisses you feverishly. her bionic arm slips beneath your ass to lift you up, so you could wrap your legs around her hips. you press your breasts against her, trying to seek for any further touches. "the bed, Sev," you say between kisses, too occupied to actually resist her touch.
she ignores your words and losses her grip on your wrists instead to wander to the buttons of your shirt, never breaking the kiss. "patience, beautiful," she whispers as her lips leave yours to press a kiss on your cheek. "we have all night, right?"
your arms find their way back around her neck, playing with her loose hair. "please," you respond, your eyes making contact with hers. you peck her lips before you say, "i want to touch you, too."
her head falls onto your shoulder as she groans, "you make me loose my composure so easily," before looking back into your eyes with need and desperation "do you realise that?"
you grin at her confession and kiss her hot and wet, moaning into the kiss as she continues to unbutton your shirt until your bra is exposed to her hand. she grazes the outlines with her fingertips, making a shudder run through your body as you gasp. you press your chest into her touch and she gladly responds with cupping your breast while biting your lower lip.
her index finger grazes your puffy nipple through your bra and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.
she pecks you one last time with a smile, before looking around your small flat, seemingly inspecting your small setup where your bedroom and living room are combined to your cozy grove.
her hand moves to your back, stabilising you in her arms before she finally heads to your bed to lay you down on it, watching you as you lay there with your undone shirt and the few strands that escaped your hairstyle completely wordless.
similar to her, you exhale at the sight in front of you. Sevika is still fully clothed, so you pull her down by her collar to kiss her hard, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her body on top of you. "take this off," she whispers against your lips, her bionic hand gripping your shirt as her hand sneaks behind your neck to tilt your head for her to suck.
she kisses and bites your sweet spot, disrupting your motion of pulling your shirt off and making your eyes roll back in pleasure. you moan her name in frustration before she finally let's go.
"this too," she tells you as she eyes every little detail on your torso. when you take your bra off, her bionic hand cups your breast. the sharp and cold details of her metallic hand exposed on one of your most sensitive parts of your body leave you breathing hard, moaning as her pointy fingers pinch and twist your nipple. "you have no idea how often i thought of touching them since that night," her eyes are not leaving your chest as she confesses.
"you could've touched them that night," you respond, your hand finding the back of her head as you play with her small ponytail. after hearing your words she looks at you, almost with a shocked expression on her face. "there's no way i would have touched you without your consent," she tells you. surprised by this sudden turn, you move up to rest your weight on your elbows, looking at her in disbelief. "but you payed for that night with me," you state, still confused by what she just said.
she's just as surprised as you, cupping your cheek softly as she spoke, "y/n, i would never do anything to you without your consent. do you know that?" she asks you, her eyes never leaving yours as she spoke. you've never experienced any sex partner expressing their respect to you verbally. and fuck, this is probably the moment you realise you have feelings for this woman in front of you. you nod in response, still overwhelmed from your thoughts and feelings. she smiles at you as she says, "good girl."
your soaking pussy almost purred at that nickname. kissing her quick but softly, you grind your clothed hips against hers as you kiss a trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.
she exhales heavily at your motions before saying, "tell me what you want, beautiful."
"i want you to fuck me," you respond after hesitating, still nibbling at her collarbone as a soft moan escapes her.
"with this," you continue as you grind stronger onto her clothed cunt than before.
her bionic arm holds herself on the bed as her fingers trace your curves. "with my fingers?" she teases as she opens your trousers with her other hand slowly.
your lips move up to her ear, licking and biting her soft skin. "no," you whisper, "with this."
you press the seam of her jeans with your fingers against her clit, making her grip your hips hard from your sudden touch. "fuck," she mutters in response, clearly trying to compose herself before she continues to fully undress you.
"under one condition," she starts as she takes in your naked body with hungry eyes, "i'll have a taste before i fuck you," she unbuttons her shirt, revealing a dark bandeau bra beneath. she's in a hurry, so she won't bother to take off her unbuttoned shirt, but moves on by removing her jeans as well as underwear in one go.
you try to take a peek at her body, but she immediately kneels between your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, dragging her motions slowly to your soaking pussy as her hands hold you firm beneath her touch. feeling her breath on your clit, you whine from sensitivity, gripping the sheets beneath you as she finally tastes you for the first time.
both of you moan from the touch, your hips stutter beneath her strong hands. she eats you out like a starving woman, humming at the sounds you're making. your clit is circled by her tongue as she softly bites and sucks before your legs start shaking from the pleasure that builds up in your lower belly.
she moves her arm from your thigh to press softly against it, realising how close you are. "come on my tongue," she tells you, intensifying her motions as you come hard. the way you moan her name sounds similar to a scream, your thighs pressing against her head as you throw your head back in pleasure.
she gently guides you through it by licking in decreasing motions, careful of your sensitivity. as your calming down, she kisses your clit one last time before she straightens herself to watch you after your first high.
her lips and chin are glistening from her pussy and strands that were originally framing her face now hang loosely. "you did so well, beautiful," she whispers, climbing on top of you to press kisses into your face. "fuck, you really sent me to another dimension," you confess, laughing a litte at the absurdity. she chuckles at your words, grinning as she examines your face.
"are you still down for another round?" she asks carefully, giving you the space you might need, but you nod as you smile at her. she kisses you before she straightens again to manhandle your legs, placing one on her shoulder as she moves her own over your other to align with your pussy, not starting just yet. she caresses the long on her shoulder as she presses kisses along with it.
she looks absolutely breathtaking while doing it. you feel her pussy kissing yours, and fuck, she's driving you crazy. the unbuttoned shirt exposes the abs you eyed earlier through the tightness of her shirt. her v-line is deeply defined, even more when she starts to slowly grind against you. her pointy bionic fingers suddenly press into your thigh as she gasps from the pleasure she suddenly receives. her grey eyes watch you heavily, making sure you're alright with her pace as she slowly picks it up.
"you feel so good," you whimper as you meet her motions by copying hers, crying from the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm. "fuck- i'm close again."
she grins at your confession, pushing herself harder on your clit as you cry out from the friction. she's mostly quiet, but a gasp escapes her lips anytime you improve your speed.
"come with me, y/n" she leans down, kissing you with so much passion as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. you moan into the kiss, your breasts moving with each thrust as your nipples graze against the cotton of her bandeau. you felt your orgasm creeping, but you weren't ready for the intensity it comes with. you cry out against her lips, holding her against you as you feel her groaning from her own orgasm. both your hips stutter in your motions before you stop to look at her.
her head rests in the nape of your neck and the only thing you feel is her hot breath against your skin. as you untangle your legs, you kiss on the side of her head. "are you alright?" you ask after several seconds of silence.
she vaguely nods, still maintaining her breath before she answers "you have no idea what you're doing to me."
you smile as you caress her hair through your fingers. "i'd love to figure it out in the future," you continue, making space between your faces so you could look at her as you speak. "this idea you've just mentioned," you clarify as she looks at you speechless.
she kisses you passionately after a few seconds, smiling as she realises what you were suggesting.
"let me take you to dinner after your shift tomorrow?" she asks as her thumb trails your cheekbone. you nod, kissing her on the cheeks before you answer "gladly."
you both fall asleep, and sooner or later date nights with Sevika become your favourite traditions as you two engage in a passionate, but intimate relationship with each other.
tags: @sevsbaby @womenathleteshaveme @macaroni676
masterlist
1K notes · View notes
chlmtsdoll · 6 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED
౨ৎ Summary: you’re Art and Pat’s (mid)wife without the legal agreements. They both want to finally get you pregnant but who will be the one to shoot his shot first ? 🤭
౨ৎ 18 + | smut !, threesome, p in v (unprotected sex), heavy breeding kink, size kink, polyamorous relationship, domestic (mean-ish) reader, (mid 20’s) needy Art and Pat, angst, gayness, jealousy, religious themes here and there, inspo from Good Graces by Sabrina Carpenter 🩵
Tumblr media
The entire house had been a complete and total mess.
You spent most of your weekdays like this — in your Skims sets, hair tied up in a neat ponytail only to end up in a messy bun by the time you were done cleaning up after the two boys who made up most of your life.
Unless they’d been at tennis practice of course.
You never could have pictured your life turning into this in your wildest dreams, especially when you’d never been the kind of girl who was into dating of any sort at all. You hated it really. The chase, the frustration, the uncertainty. Since you were a little girl, all you knew was that you wanted to accomplish receiving the home of your dreams and a cute little baby or two to keep your days a little less lonely. You never fathomed it was too much to ask for. And even though you really didn’t exclusively picture a man (or men) being apart of your future — early days at school, Art and Patrick would make it the competition of their lives to never leave you alone. Ever.
Since you all met your sophomore year of college, it was the two on their hands and knees at your feet. Both always striving for your attention, fancying you, stealing you away from your studies to try and make you settle for dating at least one of them — and to their surprise (or your luck) you never really did. So moving through your last years of class really pushed the three of you as close as a trio could get. You didn’t exactly put tittles on whatever you had been since it wasn't your style anyway and throuple just seemed so indifferent. You’d all been more than that. Art and Patrick were yours and you were theirs. You’d draw hearts around your names in all your text books. Picturing yourself rocking cradles and being with theirs forever. You’d marry your boys if you could. It was a new upcoming part of your plan — but one worth diving into.
You really did adore them with every ounce of your being.
So eventually when they went pro and started competing full time, both Art and Patrick’s families supported your decision of getting a home together. A great chunk of what you’d always wanted finally coming to fruition. Which was why you didn’t really mind staying back to do the important things around the home that was perfect in every way to you. It was a necessity when you lived with two six foot successful athletes muddying up the place without even noticing it. You would make dinner yourself on the week days and they always helped out on the weekends. You picked out and folded their sports wear every night for them just so it would make the morning even a tad bit easier. You loved it, and you loved them. And even if the home was almost always in need of a little clean up with how busy your lives had ended up, you couldn’t say you didn’t admire that it was constantly filled with the endearment you all shared together — so just a after a few months of moving in, you finally thought it was the perfect time to let Art and Patrick give you a baby.
As excited as they were when you laid it all out on the table and they’d been a hundred percent ready too, you hadn’t properly thought out how combative your husbands got when it came down to it. The first week you’d given them the green light, it was non stop arguments and fighting between the two for who would be the first impregnate you. And although you gave them a deadline, wanting to be in your second trimester by the end of the year, they still hadn’t come to a full agreement.
And you still weren’t pregnant.
It’s pushed you into having much more aggressive periods and definitely during ovulation. You wanted your baby right then. Right now. More than anything else in the world. It was why you made a promise to both Art and Patrick — so you didn’t have to deal with running through men trying to find the perfect one to give you what you wanted even, into your thirties. There’s two of them. Which means double the assurance that you should of been pregnant by now.
You’d had a hamper between your hip and the washing machine as you were unloading the laundry you set earlier when you heard the front door being unlocked.
The foyer was filled with the loud conversation and laughter the boys brought home with them to greet you. — but you’d remembered that you just mopped the entire floor plan spotless. So you dropped the hamper instantly in a hurry,
“Wait- - Wait ! Shoes. Mud room.”
As you scurried up to them, the blonde and brunette had paused in their tracks to face you. Seconds away from placing their worked equipment and tiresome shoes on the sparkling clean floors, just before they had registered it been freshly washed. Both men melt into apologies and “sorry baby’s” roughly at the same time while you finally let yourself breathe again post saving the floors from a brutal de-makeover.
When you turned your back to grace the kitchen, taking out food and utensils to start on dinner it was of course moments till your husbands made their way to merrily greet you as they always did — unwashed and grinning like they didn’t just see you that morning. Art had sure to respectfully take off his cap when he walked in, his damp blonde curls scattered everywhere. They looked heavenly with the sweat he had brought with him too, and Patrick, even sweatier, snaked around the corner of the counter to embrace you from behind without a care in the world to his abhorrent musk filling up your senses so quickly.
“Hi, baby,” the brunette smirked down at your smaller figure from behind, he bent to press a kiss to your cheek whist grabbing your dainty waist in his own brawny hands. “How’s our girl ?”
Art began to smile from the other side of the counter in front of you. The blue hue of his eyes twinkled as he looked over your relaxed figure carrying on with what you’d been doing. “How was your day, sweetness ?”
“I caught a movie.. then I came back and cleaned up around here.” You spoke so nonchalantly the boys had already been catching on to the fact that you weren’t your normal excited self who was over the roof to have them back home. It was odd.
“So, that’s why you haven’t started on dinner yet..” Patrick chuckled, still behind your shoulder as he peered down at you, and you only glanced up at him with a mainly forced but soft simper.
“Oh, I’m so glad you noticed.. because you’re finishing it.” You only tapped Patrick’s freckled nose with a smile was laced with hints of sarcasm too smoothly, and as you looked between the two, their own glad expressions started to slip away when they really noticed your demeanor was not having it. You’d been pissed.
“So.. you’re not-”
“No. Do it yourselves,” you dried your hands on a cloth and shoved it off before removing yourself from Patrick’s embrace to exit the kitchen without a care. The boys watched your movements with frozen looks.
“I mean, we all should equally feel the current of not getting what we’ve been waiting for, right?”
As you stopped yourself from walking away to face them again with a look on your face that was holding back a thousand words of real rage, with just a cover of curiosity to how they could be so oblivious to your own needs — Art observed you from over his shoulder with a furrowed brow that also tugged a frown on his expression before he spoke.
“Baby- -”
“No. We had an agreement.” Your voice raised in pitch and you tried not to pout. Stand your ground. “I want a baby. And I still don’t have a baby.. and it’s ridiculous b-because, it’s not that complicated. Theirs two of you for fucks sake!”
You were angry, and quite upset. And even though you were pmsing, that wasn’t why. It was the exact problem.
Your emotions were at an all time high, and both men could have put that together at the way your voice shook, and nose had done that flair thing it did when you were a the peak of crying. Just on the verge of tears. But they had to know how you felt. And the way Art and Patrick observed you now, had affirmed they were taking in how it must all feel on your end.
“I thought we were in this together- guys. I-I thought we were ready to start a family…” your eyes switched between the two and their dejected faces before they both erupted into words to reassurance and decline to your state. Making their way over fast to where you stood, to be in the presence of their much shorter but adorned wife.
“We are!” The brunette huffed out.
“We’re a team.. that’ll never change, angel.“ the blonde one spoke over the other, and you crossed your arms as you looked up at both your tall and handsomely gorgeous (but very stupid at times) boys.
“Then fix this.. Get it together among yourselves like grown men who actually want a baby. Because bickering about who’s gonna get me pregnant first won’t get us anywhere.”
You breathed out deeply and searched their obedient assertion before Art and Patrick both nodded to each other in guilt of their actions. They knew how much you wanted this. And you confirmed you didn’t necessarily have to stop at just one.. you’d wanted a little bunch really — so both your boys would have created something with you.
Their strife for who got their the quickest though, had been totally picked up from ego.
“We’ll.. come to it settled by tomorrow. But really, cut the chase baby, Patrick is just in it for all the sex with you… so your answers right there.” Art commented as he only half joked at Patrick’s wit to selfishly get you laid back to back.
The brunette retreated with shoving the other man in his side. “Fuck. Off. If I was in it for the breeding kink alone I’d say that… probably- -” Patrick defended in all seriousness to his nonsensical answer, and they had both scoffed at each other — you rolled you eyes.
This had been the root of your tiredness.
Sometimes you didn’t even know why you agreed to this. They could be such idiots. Lovable ones although. Enough that you’d let them be the fathers of your children evidently.
“Just… hurry up. Or I promise, I won’t let either of you touch me.” It was between you and god how true that statement actually was. But your eyes met their green to blue in all seriousness before you turned away again. “And wash yourselves before coming in my kitchen next time.”
It took every fiber of your being not to turn back and gently leave them with kisses after such a talk — but you had to show them you meant it. that you really weren’t fucking around this time. You’d definitely classify yourself as a much attentive wife. Always too nice to both of them, but they’d known how fast you could switch up like that — being as sweet as an angel one moment then not giving a fuck the next.
And it’s what they deserve for not attending to your needs too. Although you’d all still been fairly young and they were used to just being careless boys, constantly fucking things up time to time. But now that you’d all spoken out on being ready to settle down, they had to show you they truly meant it. That they wanted this just as badly as you did.
So if locking yourself in your room without your husbands, dickless and babyless would do the trick, then so be it.
It was bound to pay off, because around two weeks later when you let the boys know you were ovulating. They wasted no time to be on you every second of every day.
Fucking was all you’d known this time around, day and night Art and Patrick would take turns filling you with as much of their seed as possible. Giving you the most otherworldly orgasms you’d probably ever experienced got you letting them fuck you in as many ways as they could fit in between the hours they didn’t have tennis and could just be with you. There was something about you wanting them so badly to plant their own inside you, and something about them taking their greedy turns over you till the light of dawn made your sex drive triple it’s increase. The boys would end up arriving late to practice after making your body the judge of who’d be the one to carry your first born.
It all came down to when Art had no rein to miss a requirement when his sponsors asked him to be of attendance to a leading event. — which also lead to you and Patrick staying the night indoors, alone, without your other counterpart.
“Please ?”
“We shouldn’t, Patrick. He’ll be upset that he wasn’t here, you know how Art gets.”
Patrick scoffed off your words as he fast walked (chased) after you into the bedroom, “pssh. He has a sponsorship. He’ll be fine… c’mon baby, how am I supposed to make you a mommy if you don’t let me try?” Patrick grinned as he sauntered closer to where you stood. That grin on his face that said he’d already been painfully hard, you knew like the back of your hand. When Patrick towered over you untamed and pressed a deep kiss to your jaw line, you met him where he took your hips with his selfish hands — just below him you let your half husband leave kisses down your neck with that damn luring smirk on his face, still.
You shook your head and rolled your eyes playfully at his acts to get you to let him fuck you without Art around like usual. You already knew the petty excuse you’d use to tell him you didn’t go against the agreement you all kept to only have intercourse when it was the three of you while trying to conceive since you’d all be equal parents to the child.
Although, it was without a doubt that Patrick l had a way with his undeniable charming nature, and it almost always paved the path to you just giving into the calculated man at some point.
He was pulling you on to his lap by the time you two reached the bed. His slightly calloused hands exploring, kneading your skin. Your breath hitched and Patrick let out a slow devious laugh as his grip on you wondered till it embraced your breasts and the man groped you with all pleasure. “These are gonna be so full when you get pregnant, baby. I can’t wait.” He had that cheeky grin as your eyes panned down at him from your position in his lap. You only let out a soft chuckle as you we’re totally more focused on when he’d get his pants off.
“I swear to god Patrick, I’m not fucking around. You better put a baby in me or I’ll have Art do it.” Your voice was pungent but remained sweet overall. The brunette snickered as he kissed on your chest anyways,
“Just relax baby doll, let me take care of it. Trust me you’ll be pushing a stroller before you even finish.” Patrick groaned into your skin. He continued pushing up your shirt and going straight to your nipples to place his lips with a soft curse while you put your hands in his hair just to watch the way he acted as if he’d been at starvation from you.
Deep down you knew for a fact Patrick had only been motivated to the whole baby making process for the kink of it all. The messy and wild sex constantly. Getting to cum in your pussy rein free as many times as he pleaded without a break, getting to say you’d been carrying his child he planted inside of you. He was a thousand percent deep into a breeding kink since you’d all been in college. And no matter how much he tried to deny it these days, it didn’t even amount to the way he’d boast about loving to just see the sight of you pregnant and fully round struggling to do simple daily tasks as your bump grew and grew every day, meanwhile it being all caused by him. The fantasy stroked his ego in a way like no other, he’d for sure end up being the type to tell friends the exact position it was that he knocked you up in. It was more of a contest of manly hood for the tennis player and you surely knew that.
On the other hand, Art had been dreaming of starting a family since a kid he’d been proudest to say. He was in it not just for himself in a way that made him overwhelming happy to have a little one of his own to take care of, but for you. Making sweet love to you day and night, trying to make a mini version of himself and you just because he adores your personality and features so much he’d want that in his own offspring. Art idolized the bond you two have that much. Always the one out of your husband’s to be doing as much research as he could in his free time to see what were the best chances of giving you a baby and making the experience the most pleasurable. The ways in which would be healthiest for you to give birth, baby names, and when you previously found his YouTube search history that had been filled with how to properly build a cradle, or how to swaddle a new born — it made your heart all warm and mushy feeling. Jumping around underneath your chest even.
It was the cherry on the top of your ideal life. And you knew the right way to go deep down.
But as Patrick lowered your hips against his, skin on skin and heated kisses in the middle of your make-out session being the only thought to cloud your mind — you’d been blinded by the one sided-ness of the man and the opportunity to end all anticipation of getting pregnant as soon as possible.
“Yeah, yeah- - just like that..” you panted as the brunette watched you while he was quick to lift himself and you to pull down his sweats and align himself with your entrance. Your hands had been wound to his shoulders while he reached for your ass in preparation of you taking his sized up cock like you owned it. And he lived for that. Patrick was dripping of pre-cum beneath you already. “Put it in.” You breathed out whist beginning to slide down his member as he pushed up into you. A low groan coming from the tease of a man, and the back of his head lost balance in your hands as you began to move on top of him.
“Take my cock baby… fuck, you feel good.” His low grunts and hands getting you to rock your hips faster was enough to get your skin feeling as if it been lit on fire. Your jaw agape enough to when Patrick put his lips on yours — you’d been met by his tongue on instant, sloppily kisses were laid in between your combatting lips. Patrick pulled a clean moan out of you as your legs begin to tremble at his penetration being rough to your walls on instant.
“Mmm- Pat… oh,” you’d been riding him on the edge of the king sized bed. Bouncing like there was no tomorrow in such little time. Your drive has just been insane, you could fuck like you took meals. The feeling of the finely built man running against the cave of your sensitive cunt assured you, this was it. You were getting pregnant by the end of tonight. If it weren’t for the astonishing thick walls, your moans could of filled every hallway of the house by now.
That was until the creek of the masters door had been a distracting note. And the blonde that appeared in it even more so.
When your movements froze and Patrick’s kisses to your neck loosened, the two of you were startled to see the sight of Art coming through that very doorway with a perplexed but not at all surprised look of predictability on his face.
Instead of pulling Patrick out of you to greet your other lover, the smile on your face only grew as you stared over at the less disheveled man placing his back pack on the floor.
“Hi, baby.” You would of been questionably chipper to most, but for the three of you this was as normal as it gets.
“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” Art shrugged softly as his crystal blues examined the heat you and Patrick had created in the atmosphere. “But.. do you really- want a brunette ? Wouldn’t you prefer the baby be.. I don’t know. A blonde ?”
“Oh, fuck off, Art.” Patrick, who had still been inside you let himself fall back into the bedsheets with a groan of misery. And you already knew the blonde had a grin of his own growing across his lips. You closed your eyes with a deep exhale.
“Guys.. stop it.” you huffed as you pushed on the brunettes limp shoulder, with a soft eye roll that landed back on Art, your expression softened at the sight of your golden boy prancing closer to the two of you. Your smile appeared again. “Come join us baby.”
You knew Patrick would be annoyed and bitching over the fact he didn’t get to cum inside you himself before Art had shown up. But it didn’t matter so much to you when overall, you wanted Art to be as much involved as his own, even if Patrick had been the one to shoot his shot first. You slid off of him to crawl closer and plant your lips on Art’s with a pleasant little noise of joy, which the blonde then sent his hands to hold your waist as he leaned into your affectionate greeting.
“Hi.” He chuckled as he leaned away to meet your eyes. Like he wanted nothing. Needed nothing but you.
“How did it go ?”
“Good- - it went good. Boring, really. But what I’m more interested in is how many times you two fucked today..” Art raised a subtle brow as he glanced between you and the sexually frustrated man who’d had his back turned to you and Arts embrace at the moment.
If only hiding behind your flustered face was an option.
“Y’know.. you’re more than welcome to tune into the fifth round, Art.” Patrick spoke out to poke the other man again and before he could glance at you, his eyes widen with a plea of ‘really ? Five ?’ laced through it and you immediately shook your head.
“No, no..” you held Art’s face in your hands, high cheek bones made it easy to acknowledge his pre-frown. Before he could assume more, your eyes search his while you kicked Patrick’s shoulders slightly. “He’s being a dick. That’s not true…”
“Let him believe it, doll. Now, can we get back to it please ? We have a baby to make.” Patrick’s tone was smug and filled with the tension to just get to your wet enclosure, and before you could even shut him up again, Art did it for you.
“Well, for that to happen, you do know she has to be on her back right ? Or at least comfortable in some capacity..” Art questioned the man and Patrick scoffed at his remark.
“I knew that.”
“Did you ? You had her on top, I would of at least expected doggy style from you, man.”
“Why does it fucking matter?!”
“Because she’s fertile right now!”
“Art, when the fuck did you become a baby daddy ? Please, explain. Because I could like to know-”
“My god. Will you two just shut up and put a baby in me!”
You’d gotten so fed up with the two bickering over nonsense, you stood to your knees between them on the bed as your frustration was shown through your expression that was slowly but surely going dull.
“Honestly, with all this tension, and arguments.. when even was the last time you fucked ?”
Your eyes switch between the two boys who choked on their own tongues when you brought up them being the ones in absence of fucking out their frustrations with one another. And you tried to hide your smirk as best as you could behind your doting eyes.
You wanted them to feel like they’d been draining you by the second, like you’d leave and shut them out again if they didn’t just handle you like real men.
“You know what, that’s it.” Art stood up from your side and glanced down at both you and Patrick who’d been taken by surprise to his new found demeanor.
“You wanna be a mommy ? I’ll make you a mommy.”
Art tugged on the bottom of his white tee, to remove it from his body swiftly — revealing his burly pecks and excellent abs that round a grin from you as easy as could be. He grabbed your wrists firm but with rooted gentleness as he took you aside. “Patrick. Make use of yourself and lay back so you can hold her reversed cowgirl.” Those last few words were more than enough to get the brunette on board as he himself stripped to then make his way neat against the pillows and covers. Art built brief lustful eye contact with you, leading you to straddle Patrick’s lap. The blonde couldn’t stop himself from grinning, and you pulled your lip into your mouth as your patience began to burn quick and your need for both of the men started to rise with it.
Patrick’s hands were on your sides as he pulled you into him, leaning in close to your ear where you felt his soft lips meet your lobe, “I can’t wait to have you full of both of us, princess.” His voice rasped at the perfect tone that had your spine increase with chills. Your delicate hands help you adjust we’re your ass met his thighs. And that’s when Art came hovering over the two of you — meeting you face to face with even more want than ever. Your lips press into one another divinely as you could of sucked his bottom lip into your own if he stayed there long enough. You smile into the smooches anyways. Your light, your angel boy, gracious as ever, depressed his palm into the firm mattress beneath where you and Pat coexist, as he made himself comfortable on top. You kept kissing Art with deep hungry moans humming from your windpipe. A slow but fervent pace. It’s like the man could sense your wetness before he even reached down between your thighs to part your legs. But when he did, with tenderness and urgency, he made them just wide enough for how he and Patrick would need you to be for them.
The blonde’s slender fingers rub around your core and he wet his digits with your slick before dipping them in your cunt leisurely, “Patrick did prep you good, but let me.. us, take care of things for once, alright ? You just focus on feeling good.” Art ducked his head to watch the way he added another finger to disappear inside you and your whine was soft. But your focus was on him. He looked overwhelming gorgeous on top of you — golden curly locks followed his every move. You felt more assured then ever by the way his sweet words made your tense muscles shift. Soon, Patrick to your left, left soft kisses on your shoulder blade which that just made you melt.
He stroked his erection before inching to slide himself back inside your soaked heat, and you closed your eyes with a sweet whimper leaving your plump lips at the way the brunette slid though your walls again — Art’s tongue darted out to watch the way you sunk down on Patrick before his eyes. Getting ready to penetrate you himself, “keep holding her, Patrick. Make sure she’s relaxed.” The man on top of you murmured with dilated pupils and mouth practically salivating just witnessing it second hand.
You bit down on your lip while Art put his cock above where Patrick had been, working himself against your already pulsing cunt, begging to be used by the two gorgeous boys. And before finally pushing into you along with the brunette, Art pushed you farther on to your back against Patrick’s broad chest.
“Stay open for us like a good girl, we’re gonna make you a mommy for sure this time.” You heard Patrick’s voice come in with a grin and he held your thighs separate as Art bottomed out inside of you the same way Patrick had with a echoed grunt.
The double penetration sent your mouth going agape straight away, your face scrunched up in pleasure and pain at the same time,
“oh- - oh, fuck” your breathing hitched as then men just filled you with their length and girth, the farther they burrowed in you, the quicker you realized you’d probably never get used to the stretch of taking both of their dicks at once, nor would you tire of it either. But this was what you needed. Right this second, to be breed and stuffed with enough cum you’d have more than sufficient chances to have one of their babies make it to growing inside of you.
The blonde and brunette had started to move in you, at a steady pace, then quicker as time followed. You sometimes felt as if you’d body was meant to take them like this — your moans and cries escalating could of confirmed that with how you’d been coating their cocks with more of your juices as they fucked into you. Both men making pornographic noises of their own while getting to submerge into your sweetness at the same time. The friction of feeling one another setting off another kind of euphoria that had been truly in a league of its own.
From Patrick pushing his heels into the comforter to pound up into you, and Art’s hands going opaque with veins as he gripped on to the side of your hips to ass — to keep you open for him to have the best access to your womb, made your eyes go teary with the impact of it all. The way their balls carelessly slapped against your ass that would surely be darkened with a bruise tomorrow. Thrusting without mercy made you feel a heavenly kind of dizzy at this point.
Art couldn’t help but grin at the bulge he and Patrick had been imprinting on your lower belly as you could only shriek and moan on their cocks in repetition like you’d been saying a prayer after every pound to your sensitive cunt.
“Fuck- - god, princess. You’re gonna make us daddies aren’t you ? That tummy is gonna be full with us just like it is now, and you’ll love it. I don’t think you’ll ever stop wanting to let us fill you with babies you can take care of.” Art had panted out into your ear with a airy chuckle and you were too fucked out to do anything but tremble more from his words, the brunette has been smirking in agreement.
“Shit. She’s gonna be so pretty lookin’, Art. Being at home with the kids, nurturing everything she touches like the sweet girl she is… just to get breed nice and round again and again, isn’t that right, pretty girl?”
You were over the edge. Completely cock drunk and fucked stupid by your boys who held you together in the mess they made of you. That’s when you couldn’t keep it back anymore. “Oh- yes… god, yes. Fuck !” A high pitched whimpering moan ripped through you as you came hard, leaving Art and Patrick’s overly slick cocks with yours and their creamy details.
“Oh, shit, shit !” The brunette cursed from over your shoulder.
“Fuck, Patrick, you ready ?” Art huffed as he and your other husband didn’t stop plunging into you. They took your overstimulated and overstuffed hole clenching them through your orgasm as the gateway to finally leave their seed to your body’s pride.
Taking their slowed thrusts back up a notch, the boys fuck into you till you cry and they both cum with a slew of groans and other curses like that. Your muscles couldn’t hold up. You let yourself collapse against Patrick’s skin as the two pumped ropes into your pussy till they’d been drained out.
Art snapped his eyes shut as he strained into you with a deep grunt. He palmed Patrick’s shoulder “don’t pull out- - don’t move.. stay in. For as long as you can.” Patrick kept his hips flush against you and your legs trembled as your chest heaved and your cunt began to feel numb. You brought your swollen lip between your teeth.
“Mmmh... Art- - I don’t know how much longer I can hold up..” your wide tearful eyes met the blonde’s gaze as he leaned even closer to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers right then.
“I know, baby, I know.. but we have to make sure you have all the chances of getting pregnant.” The blonde kissed your knuckles as he stayed their with you — and Patrick did the same. Staying put and not letting up till they had been as sure as could be that you were having a child.
It brought a simper to your lips as your chest eased into a relaxed sigh. The two men finally pull out of you with low moans and you immediately sprawl on your back to smile to yourself on the bedsheets.
You’d been pregnant. You just knew it. You felt it. When Art and Patrick came together to create something out of their love with, and for you — you knew your prominent instinct couldn’t of let you down now. And only a single pregnancy test later, and a trip the three of you all took to your doctor. It had been confirmed. You were pregnant.
And to your pleasant surprise and overly joyous nature... Your first born would turn out to be a Donaldson.
Tumblr media
499 notes · View notes
murdrdocs · 10 months
Text
coriolanus in the peacekeeper uniform + gaul's daughter 18+ (fem! implied reader)
coriolanus when he returns to the capitol, eager to be back home where the streets are neatly paved and clean. where the people are civil and speak proper. where their clothes are intricate and the complete opposite of dull. he's so ecstatic that he can't even begin to dread going to doctor gaul's as his first stop, especially not when he knows her daughter will be there.
"my kin in the only ways that matters," volumnia would always say, a proud smile on her face as she played with the neat ponytail that always sat at the back of her daughter's head.
it was sitting there when coriolanus saw you, brandished with a red bow that matched the top half of gaul's outfit, one similar to the one you wore. the ponytail and outfit are skewed now, a product of coriolanus' overeager hands.
he's had adrenaline pent up in his body. adrenaline that he usually got out by hanging out with lucy gray. but that's gone now. lucy gray isn't here.
but you are.
you're here with your legs spread, your ankles hooked behind his back, the heel of your sneakers digging into coriolanus' peacekeeper uniform. with each sloppy thrust into your sopping heat, coriolanus' cock grazes the red lace of your panties that he'd carelessly pushed aside. it's a delicious friction, it makes him shudder and dig his head into the crook of your neck. he's so deep within you, the curls at the base of his cock tickling your skin every other thrust, yet you want him deeper. you pull with your ankles, nudge at his shoulder, force your hips closer to his, all to communicate your carnal need.
coriolanus can't stop thinking about how good you feel. because you feel so good. there's no real distinction between your cunt and the one's back in the districts (pussy is pussy), yet coriolanus swears he can feel it. maybe it's because he's fucking pussy of the same socioeconomic class. maybe it's because with each thrust, he believes he's tainting you.
volumnia gaul's daughter, sweet and innocent and always quiet, now struggling to keep her moans to an appropriate volume. the two of you are already making enough noise as is, your cunt squelching at an obscene volume. the walls of gaul's lab does nothing to conceal the noises, and even if you're tucked away in a corner of the halls that rarely have traffic at all, coriolanus still can't help but tease the possibility of being found.
"think their opinion of you would change? hm? like mine has?" he's facing you head on now, the slope of his nose looking even more intense under the shadows that his hat creates. you wish he'd take it off, a previous plea of yours from before the encounter got to this point. but he denied, just more proof that in this moment, like this, he had control.
you don't respond, instead letting your head fall back and knock against the concrete. coriolanus seems annoyed, a particular harsh thrust dragging you up the wall. you yelp and coriolanus grins, his perfect pearlescent teeth shining at you. his hands dig further into the flesh of your ass underneath your skirt which has been flipped up to accommodate your sinful acts.
after giving you two more drives of the same intensity, he continues.
"i never thought you'd be able to take dick like this. who's been fucking you? or have you been fucking yourself? pleasing yourself while you think of me? is that it?" when you nod, coriolanus can't help but shockingly chuckle.
his eyebrows have risen, his eyes have gone wide, but you can't see any of this. you only see the cruel curl of his lips and the flare of his nostrils as he asks, "really?"
your nails, freshly manicured, scratch at the waterproof material of his uniform. it doesn't provide any place for you to grab onto, nothing to steady yourself. you whine, starting to become frustrated, and when coriolanus mockingly coos, you become embarrassed.
"please, coriolanus. i wanna see you."
"coryo," he snaps. "how many times do i have to tell you that?"
you're quick to correct yourself, repeating your request once more with the nickname woven in there placatingly, the fear that the use of his full name will pull him away from you completely stuck to your membrane.
feeling generous, coriolanus peels his hat away from his head and drops it at his feet, leaving you to stare straight into his bright blue eyes. they seem to have gotten brighter in his absence, shining with power and authority.
with the sex driven haze in your mind, you note that it's a good look on him. it's fitting.
2K notes · View notes
konigsblog · 10 months
Note
i have a confession.. it's a bit embarrassing to share this but i think i have a thing for hairy men 👉🏻👈🏻 i mean, i feel more secure when im with them. facial hair <3 hairy chest and a happy trail uughhh im melting 🫠
just like me, anon!! ;3 simon is a HAIRY man...
simon grew a full bush, and without informing you. of course, he didn't need to, but it was a pleasant surprise when he came home with a wild and untamed bush.
he tried to keep himself neat and trimmed, but he eventually gave up on constantly shaving as it just got more uncomfortable and irritating, and he barely had any privacy to do that anyways. took too much time, he had reports to finish, he had to clean his guns fot tomorrow's mission, and how was he supposed to explain to price that the reason the report is late is because he was spending more time trimming his hairy cock?
now at first, you weren't prepared; you weren't prepared to see a full bush, with his happytrail thicker and his hard dick more musky and hot from his pube collecting sweat.
and simon couldn't wait any longer. not another 10, or 20 minutes to shave before -- he needed it now.
as soon as his hungry eyes met yours, he was tearing your panties off with his bare, large hands and unfastening his leather belt frantically, cursing like a sailor through guttural grunts. he pulled you onto his big, muscular lap, still in that mindset of ordering recruits around. you obediently followed his desperate, horny demands, bouncing on his hairy, hot cock, the soft skin on your stomach grazing against his fluffy happytrail, while you moan and gasp out. :3
friction is increased and you find that you're getting sweatier around him after this new change. kissing the stubble on his chin, his untrimmed bush rubbing against your cunt as you bounce and fuck yourself down onto his meaty, fat dick like a needy whore. :(((
2K notes · View notes
seneon · 5 months
Text
waiting for hours ──── seishiro nagi x fem! reader.
Tumblr media
about. in which, nagi awaits your arrival at home for hours. pure fluff oneshot. wc of 1.2k.
notes. this is like, the highest rated chapter in my my oneshot book in wattpad. so im slapping this in tumblr too and happy belated bday to koala boy!! for @hyoismbbg ♡
Tumblr media
𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘 was the first time during this year that nagi was able to arrive home early from his football practice. and by early, earlier than the time his lover's work finishes.
he freshened himself up, ate some food in the fridge and waited. it was 8:42pm, almost an hour and a half for you to finish your work.
the football player, now playing for a professional team, was basically bored out of his mind. he could play games until you've returned, but the man had played every game in the universe.he could watch anime, movies or anything. but those would bore him instantly.
honestly, everything is boring to him nowadays. the only thing that would keep him entertained is football and you.
you were practically the same as him, a lazy person who somehow managed to be a successful writer and be in a relationship with another lazy athlete.
nagi waited and waited and waited. for what seemed like hours, he kept waiting for your presence to shine in his day. but every time he checked the clock, only a few minutes passed from the previous.
as tired as the white-haired male is, he decided to make you some simple yet cute supper, prepare your essentials for when you returned from work. nagi even set up your little table in your shared room by the window for when you read or do some planning for tomorrow.
he eventually lost track of time while trying to make everything in the house perfect so you didn't have to do anything else when you came home. an hour or so had passed, and nagi still didn't hear the door twist open.
you yawned, tired from the meeting you had at your publishing company. really, sometimes you wish you could boss around rude people and shut them up from their shitty opinions. but business is business. and rude people didn't really matter anyways.
you set everything the way it is, and stop in your tracks when you see the kitchen counter filled with a plate of delicious food.
the apartment looked pretty neat and clean too. when you looked around in suspicion and curiousity, some of the recognisable things belonging to your boyfriend were laying around freely.
that was when a smile crawled up your cheeks. your mind traveled to nagi who prepared the food and cleaned up the house— just as he walked out the room, an annoyed expression on his face.
"i thought you were never coming home, after i prepared everything for you," he pouted with a poker face, definitely disappointed at how late you arrived home.
"ah— my bad. thank you. you're home early," you shot him a lazy smile before he walked towards you and pulled you into a lazy hug, completely embracing you in his huge form.
"yeah, practice kinda got canceled because coach's wife got into trouble.”
since you were way tinier than him, you practically squished under his body, melting in the warmth of your lazy, sweet loving boyfriend.
he smelled like mint and fresh sugary frosting, from the body wash you gave to him as a present on his birthday. it was a scent that pulled you in so much it froze and destroyed all the negative comments that were written about your books.
as much as you didn't want to separate the hug, nagi gently plucked himself away from you, sternly looking into your eyes.
"eat, and go take a bath. then we can sleep together. practice might be cancelled tomorrow too if coach's wife's trouble is still ongoing.." he trailed off and shook his head. "ehh whatever just go. i made food for you without burning the kitchen and prepared stuff for you in the room."
you chuckled and nodded your head repeatedly, trying to keep in the laugh with his ridiculously sarcastic get funny words. pretty much whatever nagi said could be funny to you.
"i won't doubt your effort. thank you again," you tiptoed and gave him a quick peck on the lips, heading over to the kitchen counter to eat your supper.
the peck made nagi blush. it was the first kiss you gave him this week. it is monday night, the start of the week. and you kissed him yesterday. hah. humour. nagi keeps track of kisses he gets from you.
anyways, he wanted more kisses from you later so he watched you eat while conversing a little about both your writer job and athlete jobs.
then, he waited for you to take your bath, freshen up before you bailed out your little window corner and jumped into bed with nagi.
"thank you, sei," you thanked him again, as he buried his face into your hair, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. "you've thanked me three times already. you're welcome though..."
your fingers moved to lace themselves in the soft fluffy hair of the male, moving around to ruffle and gently play with it.
nagi's hair was fairly soft, like cotton candy that would melt when it came in contact with liquid. it could even be on par with the clouds albeit you've never felt clouds before. but you just know it was more soft and fluffy than anything else.
you found it awfully cute that his love language is physical touch, so much that you often see him as a cat. and for a fact that nagi only needs and wants your attention, not from anyone else because you are everything to him.
the male hummed when your fingers played with his hair, an odd calmness filling over the mind and body of the athlete. you always managed to calm him down, physically and mentally. he loved that it was a good trait of you that he fell in love with.
"i love you," he said against your neck, his breath touching your skin as you couldn't help but smile at his words. he was random, sure, but you know when nagi was being genuine and sarcastic. now, he meant every word of it.
"i love you too," you replied softly, your fingers moving, trailing down to his cheeks to caress his chiseled jawline and softly stroke his cheeks.
such a work of art, you thought to yourself when you faced him and looked into his eyes.
how could a man be as angelic as your boyfriend?
you felt so blessed to have nagi in your life, never regretting that you made the first move for being friends and eventually he would later on give you a lazy confession that was conducted by his friend, reo.
"you're really beautiful, love," he felt himself smile when the both of you were staring into each other's eyes lovingly. "so beautiful.."
"and you're very handsome," you chuckled, going closer to his face. you kept the tiny distance for a moment, having a small time to admire nagi's grey eyes.
nagi then closed the distance between you both, his lips ever so softly closing in on yours to give you a lovely kiss.
it was filled with the purest intentions of showing how much he loves you, nothing else than an innocent kiss that was focused on appreciation and love.
you both pulled away at the same time, your arms wrapping around his neck as his own snaking around your waist to pull you close.
gosh, you love hugs when it comes to your lazy gigantic boyfriend. he always gives you the best ones.
"let's sleep now, okay?" he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, letting you reply with a nod before pulling the soft blanket over you two.
"i've been waiting for hours to cuddle you to sleep. good night, y/n.”
Tumblr media
© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.
604 notes · View notes
ariestrxsh · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
𐙚ྀི༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚, ✮⋆˙𐙚ྀི༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚, ✮⋆˙𐙚ྀི༘˚
⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, praise, light punishment, spanking, public teasing, religious kink, sexualization of religious imagery, blasphemy, masturbation, fingering, dom!matt, possessive!matt
📝 author's note: 📝 this is part two, and you can access part one here. if you are religious, first of all, why are you reading this? secondly, please don't interact with this post! it will offend you. for those of you who couldn't get enough and asked for a part two, thanks for giving me a reason to write another part, you little freaks, bc i'm honestly in love with this version of matt. 💖
✍️ Summary: ✍️ Matt has convinced you that the only way for you to stay a good, pure Christian girl is to come to him for your sexual urges rather than anyone else. When you approach him for help again, he teaches you a little trick to keep you satisfied until the next time he sees you.
𐙚ྀི༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚, ✮⋆˙𐙚ྀི༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚, ✮⋆˙𐙚ྀི༘˚
coming down part two
"Matt, I'm getting that urge again," I told him, biting my lip and looking down at my feet as we stood underneath the same oak tree as last week. It was Wednesday, and we agreed that would be our meeting spot every week before service. "Meet me at my car after the sermon," Matt responded, tilting my chin up towards him with a long, slender finger. "You're such a good girl for coming to me. I know just how to satisfy your urges."
The whole time the preacher had the stage, I couldn't focus on what he was saying. My head buzzed with thoughts of Matt, the feeling of my hands in his hair while he ate me out, the sounds he made when he filled me, the way his voice got really low and raspy when he called me princess.
I held my Bible over my crossed legs and pressed my thighs together over and over as discreetly as I could to feel something, anything. And I prayed to God that no one would notice. Every once in a while, my eye would catch Matt's from across the room, and we'd share a quick but lustful look. I could tell we were both struggling to pay attention to the lesson.
Once service ended, I skipped off towards Matt's car. The air outside was warm, but there was a light breeze, and the sunset looked like cotton candy.
Matt beat me to the parking lot, and when we saw each other, he was leaning up against the hood of his car, biting his lip and smiling at me. He held the door open for me and extended his hand out for me to grab it, and when I did, he kissed the back of my hand. "You look so pretty in that polka dot dress," he said to me, making me blush. What a gentleman.
Matt got into the driver's seat, and before turning on the car, he glanced over at me. "Were you squeezing your thighs together in church on purpose?" He asked, his eyes narrowing and a smile forming on his lips. "I couldn't help it. I feel all wet and tingly down there," I said, embarrassed. "I didn't think anyone would notice."
"That was very naughty of you, princess, but don't worry. I don't think anyone did. I only noticed because I couldn't keep my eyes off you," Matt responded, tracing circles on my thigh with his fingertips. I breathed out a sigh of relief.
"You know, you can't be having naughty thoughts about me in church, pretty girl. I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson," Matt told me. "A lesson? What kind?" I asked, a mixture of fear and excitement in my voice. "You're gonna have to sit tight and find out," Matt said, turning the key in the ignition.
I'd never been to Matt's house, but I assumed that's where we were going. He looked over at me every few minutes as he drove, and at stop lights, he'd lean over and kiss me.
Once we pulled up to his house, he parked in the driveway and told me, "Nick and Chris are stopping for food on their way home, so we have some time, but not much.
I found myself in Matt's bedroom. He was clean and neat, and the lighting in his room was soft and not too bright. "Come here, angel. I have to give you a little punishment for getting all hot and bothered during the service," he smirked at me. My heart started to pound, and I swallowed hard. I didn't want to be punished. But I knew it was in my best interest to listen to him. "This is gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt you," he said sternly.
"Bend over," he ordered me, and he bent me over his knee and lifted up my dress, exposing my bottom. "Were you trying to tease me, princess? In the middle of church?" Matt cooed, rubbing gentle circles on my bottom. "No, I wasn't. I didn't mean for anyone to see," I whined.
"Do you have any idea how hard you made my cock?" Matt asked, talking through his teeth and I felt a loud slap! on my ass. I cried out in shock. "Take your punishment, princess," he smacked it again.
I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but I liked it. Why did I like being punished if it was supposed to be a bad thing?
"What were you thinking about anyway, huh? Was it my cock? Or my tongue?" Matt whispered as his hand came down one more time, leaving another red hand mark. "Both," I admitted. "Next time you misbehave like that, it's five spankings," he warned me.
"I'm sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to," I looked down in shame once he was done. "I forgive you, princess. We all make mistakes, but our actions have consequences. Next, let's get you out of those pretty panties, and why don't you come sit on my lap," Matt replied. I did as he said, slid out of my lacey undergarments, and I sat on his lap with his right knee between my legs.
"Oh, sweetheart. Look at how wet you are. Is that from me punishing you? You liked it, didn't you? He cooed, spreading it open and peering down at my glistening pussy. Matt started teasing my slit with his fingers. I bit my lip, our eyes met, and I nodded at him. "Good girl. You took your punishment so well," he slipped a finger into my pussy and started pumping in and out gently.
I inhaled sharply, and I looked at him wide-eyed. I thought I had already experienced everything with Matt, but no one had ever put their fingers there, and it felt incredible.
"How's that feel?" He asked. "Like heaven," I answered, leaning back into him and rolling my eyes towards the back of my head. As I laid back into him, I could feel something poking me in his pants, and it just kept getting bigger and harder. He put in a second finger. "Oh, Matt," I whimpered, smiling at him. He watched my facial expressions intently while he played around with the pace at which he was moving his fingers in and out of me. I felt myself getting wetter by the second.
"Do you ever play with yourself, princess?" Matt inquired while a pool of wetness formed on Matt's leg from what he was doing to me. "I mean, I've tried, but I've never successfully finished," I nervously bit my lip while I stifled a whimper. "Show me how you do it, baby," he whispered.
With his fingers still inside of me, I started running the pads of my fingers over my folds, and it felt alright, but not as mind-blowing as when Matt played with me. "Do you remember that little spot right here?" Matt said, brushing over my clit with his thumb. "That's the sweet spot, princess. Start rubbing yourself there," Matt told me. He was such a good teacher.
It immediately started feeling even better when I took his advice and started touching that special spot. "Now play around with the technique. I think you like slow circles, but with a lot of pressure," he whispered. I did as he said, and boy, was he right. "Oh my goodness. That's amazing," I gasped. "Mmm. Good girl. You learn so fast," Matt whispered into my ear.
"That's how you masturbate, princess. But just because I showed you doesn't mean you can go doing it at church," Matt teased me. "You should only do this when you're by yourself or with me, and you should only ever think about me when you do it, okay?" He looked into my eyes to make sure I understood. "Yes, Matt," I nodded. "And just because I showed you this, doesn't mean you shouldn't still come to me when you need to be taken care of," he smiled at me, "just a little trick for when you're desparate."
He started finger fucking me a little faster, and I felt myself on the brink of another explosion happening. I continued to rub my clit in a circular motion like Matt had showed me. "Just relax into it, princess. Take slow, deep breaths," Matt whispered into my neck as I came undone around his digits.
I did as he told me, and I swear, purposely slowing down my breath added a whole new dimension to the rhythmic current of pleasure that overtook me. Time seemed to stop for just a moment, and I got lost in the sensual gratification I'd been mentally chasing since the last time Matt had me unraveling under his touch.
I came down from my orgasm like a feather floating to the ground, and a warm buzz lingered over my body for several minutes after I came. "Do you wanna know what you taste like?" Matt asked me, and I made an unsure face at him, but he held his fingers up to my lips, and I gently sucked on them. "Hmm. Tastes kinda weird," I told him. Matt licked his fingers clean while he looked at me, "I think you taste so sweet, princess."
Once we were finished, Matt helped me back into my panties. Then he changed his pants and gently teased me about the wet spot I made on his knee. "You were such a good girl for me today," he smirked. "Don't you want me to take care of you?" I asked, batting my eyelashes at him. "Of course I do, sweetheart, but I've gotta get you home and go pick up my brothers. What really matters is that we get you off. We can take care of me next week," he sweetly responded. "Matt, I can't wait until next Wednesday. I need you sooner than that," I whined desperately.
"Meet me under the oak tree on Sunday after church, princess," he brushed his thumb against my cheek while he looked at me with his blue eyes full of lust and hunger. "Let's get you home safe and sound, angel."
taglist: @ariithereyet @bsturnzmtt @sturnzluv @sturniolo-girl @strnlxlqve @sofieeeeex
(I kept the taglist short because I'm not sure if everyone who asked to be on my taglist wants to read this blasphemy, lol)
part three posted here 💖
378 notes · View notes
writingforstraykids · 5 months
Text
Keep it together
Pairing: Chan x femReader
Word Count: 2199
Summary: You come back to an empty home, overwhelmed after a shitty day. Once Chan's there he makes sure to take care of you.
Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, cuddles, emotional hurt!comfort
A/N: My dear friend and editor Miya @miyaluvvsyou wrote this beautiful comfort fic for Channie, trying to make me believe that it's "just a lil sth and probably not good"...please, help me prove her otherwise🤭🖤
Tumblr media
Pushing the front door to your home open, you drag your tired body inside and let it slam shut behind you, ignoring the sound that normally makes you flinch. You slide off your shoes, drop your bag and keys on the nearby table, and take off your jacket to hang it up on the hook next to the door. You turn towards your living room, taking a few steps into your home. The air is still, silence clouding the air as you realize no one is home besides you. The sunlight peaks through your windows, and subtlety illuminates the space just enough to see the features of your home. 
You walk past the living room and towards the stairs to your bedroom, stripping the clothes from your body in the process. As you reach your bedroom, you drop your clothes in the laundry basket by the door and head into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. Standing in front of the sink, you look into the mirror and you inhale a shaky breath, exhaling as you examine your features while only standing in your bra and panties. 
Your hair, now frizzy and all over the place from its neat style this morning, is the first thing you see. The dark circles resting under your eyes threaten to deepen with one more sleepless night. Your eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them all day, also ruining your makeup you put effort into this morning. Your skin was slightly paler than normal. As you take in the sight, tears begin to brim your eyelids, and you take a shaky, deep breath to center yourself. You were drained in every sense of the word, and it was very apparent in your appearance, though you tried to hide it. 
And all you wanted was him.
A tear escaped and rolled down your face, but you wiped it away quickly with a sniffle. Moving towards your shower, you turn on the hot water and let the steam envelop the room for a couple of minutes while you continue wiping away the tears still escaping your eyelids. 
Keep it together just enough to shower. Wash the day away, and you will be fine…
You repeat the same words in your head as you strip from your underwear and step into the scalding water, letting it welcome you with a deep sigh. You try not to waste any time and energy getting to work on washing your body. With every scrub of the soapy cloth, you imagine every single worry and inconvenience from the week being taken away. But no matter how hard you scrub, your mind can’t seem to relax. The flowing hot water only giving you temporary relief from the icy atmosphere in your mind. And you can’t stay in the shower forever, as much as you want to sink down to the floor and let the water consume you. You resist the urge and continue cleaning your body until you’re satisfied. 
Finishing your shower and getting out, you wrap a towel around your body and walk back to the bedroom. Grabbing your lotion, you sit at the edge of the bed and moisturize your body as you get lost in your thoughts again, staring at the floor and spacing out. Your body moves on autopilot, making sure to cover every inch of skin with the sweet-scented lotion as you’ve done countless times before. If anyone were to walk in, they would think you’re just doing your normal routine. But they’d have no idea of the depressive storm brewing in your head.
Keep it together. You’ll be under the covers and away from the world soon…
As you continue your routine on autopilot, you tug one of his t-shirts over your head, slip on a pair of panties, and sit on your side of the bed, facing the window. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply and hold it in. The tears that were in your waterline begin to slide down your cheeks. You exhale shakily, and before you can stop it, the tears fall faster. You begin to cry, feeling your mind and body give in to the breakdown you have been avoiding all day. As your sobs get louder, your body slides down onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, and your hands reach up to cover your face. You cry your heart out, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest. 
You don’t hear Bang Chan come home almost an hour later. He’s humming to himself as he closes the door, guiding it so it won’t slam, and puts his keys in the bowl on the table. As he takes his shoes off, he notices yours and smiles to himself, putting his bag next to yours. “(Y/N), I’m home, love!” He calls out to you. Taking off his hoodie and hanging it next to the door, he turns towards the living room, expecting to see you. 
But he’s met with nothing but the still silence of the home. There weren’t any lights on, just the few rays of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn’t any movement coming from the kitchen. As he walked further in, he noticed the tv wasn’t on either, couch unoccupied. 
“(Y/N)? Are you home, baby?” Chan called out again, his eyebrows raised as he awaits for a response. But none came, and he frowned. 
Strange.
Taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens it and calls your phone, listening to the ringing. A couple of seconds later, he hears the vibration from your phone and looks around to locate the sound. He follows the vibration back to your purse, where he sees your ringing phone with his name on the screen. He looks around once more before ending the call. He softly hums and begins to make his way upstairs, 2 steps at a time. Maybe you were in the bathroom or in the shower.
Chan notices the bedroom door open and looks inside, standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room before he sees the top of your head poking out from your side of the bed. He exhales with a small smile and slowly walks in, trying not to make noise to surprise you. But his smile fades as he gets closer to you and hears your small sniffles. Are you crying?
“Baby?” Chan speaks gently to get your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, and his heart drops at the sight. You’re sitting on the floor in his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed and crossed legged. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, tears flowing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sniffle but struggle to breathe. My poor baby..
He’s kneeling down in front of you not even a second later, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” Chan rattles out questions as he closely examines your body. You shake your head and sniffle, more tears flowing from your eyes. 
“C-Chan I-“ You struggle to get out between sniffles. You put your hands over his and close your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your nose softly, then your forehead, and finally pecks your lips so delicately. It causes you to still, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. It calms you enough to finally open your eyes and meet his gaze. 
He looks at you with a pained expression and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs gently. “What’s wrong, princess? What’s upsetting you, hm?” He asks sincerely. Chan hated seeing you upset, especially if he’s the one that causes it. But since he’s just gotten home, he doesn’t think he might be the cause this time. 
“I don’t k-know, but hold me p-please” You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck. Chan sits back against the wall and pulls you into his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle, trying to steady yourself in his arms. 
Chan rubs soothing circles on your back and shushes you softly. You instinctively pull him impossibly closer, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, babygirl. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You nod at his words. “We can sit here as long as you’d like, okay?”
“O-okay Channie.” You whisper into his neck, steadying your beating heart as you find comfort in his arms. 
The two of you sit like that for 2 hours. Once your sniffles died down and the tears stopped flowing, you curled up in Chan’s lap, subconsciously trying to shrink yourself. He continued to rub your back while planting soft kisses on your head every now and then. He even started to hum one of your favorite songs to help steady your heartbeat. He didn’t complain about being on the floor for so long, he just wanted you to be okay. Once the silence was in the air long enough, he spoke up. “How ya feeling, love?”
“I’m okay…” You shyly reply, shifting a little in his lap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ You begin to try explaining yourself, but Chan interrupted you almost immediately. 
“Shh hey, don’t apologize to me. My concern is you, no matter what.” He looks into your eyes as he speaks reassurance to you, letting the hand that’s not rubbing your back gently caress your face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, it’s okay. I won’t pressure you.”
You nod and your eyes flutter as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. With a sniffle, you begin to speak. “I just had a really tense work week and once I got home, my body just…broke down. It’s just been so-“ The tears begin to rim around your eyes as you explain, and you take a pause to take a deep breath. Chan notices and kisses your forehead, running a gentle finger underneath your eyes to wipe away your tears. You take his hand and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channie.” You speak lowly, but sincerely. 
“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to make sure you are okay baby.” He speaks softly with a smile. You match the small smile resting on his face and nod. “Do you wanna sit here for a little longer still?”
“Can we lay in bed and cuddle? You’re probably uncomfortable from sitting like this for a while. Especially with me sitting on top of you.” You give him an apologetic look, while an adorable pout rests on your lips.
Chan shakes his head. “You know I’ll never complain when you’re sitting on my lap, princess.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. You gasp softly and slap his shoulder playfully, smiling as he giggled. “But we can lay down and cuddle baby, whatever you want.” He chuckles and kisses you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around your legs and stands up with ease, causing a squeal to leave your lips in the middle of the kiss. He chuckles and kisses you again as he takes a few steps towards the bed and lays you on your back. 
You keep your arms around his neck and wraps your legs around his waist to keep him close. He smiles and kisses your forehead and cheeks, going back to your lips for a soft peck. You whine softly and try to connect your lips again, but he pulls back just enough to be out of reach, a grin that flashes his dimples rests on his lips. “Channieee” 
“Uhn uhn, cuddling only princess. That’s what you asked for.” He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. 
You sigh and pout at him. “Just a little kiss?” You give him the best boba eyes you can manage. 
But he doesn’t crack, giving your pouty lips a quick peck before he playfully slaps your thigh. “There’s your kiss. Now get under the covers while I change my clothes.” He says, giggling at your stunned face from his movement. He gives you one more small peck before standing up and going into that closet to change. You smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. 
Chan comes out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants but his chest bare. He climbs into bed and underneath the covers, pulling your body close to his. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, feeling safe and sound in his arms. He kisses your temple and smiles. “I love you darling.”
“I love you more, Channie. So much more.” You speak, placing a kiss on his chest and smiling to yourself. You turn on Netflix and you watch that K-Drama you both have been waiting to watch, feeling that much needed peace you craved just hours ago. 
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):
@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143
563 notes · View notes
noirflms · 5 months
Text
THE HOUSEHUSBAND LIFE — hq men
haikyuu men as househusbands. or haikyuu men who’d be good househusbands in general.
Tumblr media
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ AKAASHI KEIJI !
he is the one who keeps track of finance in the house , keeps track of how much you should spend even if you get a six-sum salary and love spending it on him even if he doesn't like it because he wants you to save for the future.
he also pretty much cooks all sorts of dishes and morning tea made by him is served to you in bed , he is just the best. buys groceries when you're out to work , keeps the house neat and clean — it's a penthouse so it's not much work as it's not that dirty all the time — keeps track of your health and if you're pretty much not skipping breakfast or lunch cuz he's there to spoon feed you at dinner.
he's not much fan of laundry just knows he has to fold it and keep it neatly in your shared closet and is pretty much a the best husband of all ( according to your mother ).
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ SUGAWARA KOUSHI !
he is that type of house-husband who actually takes care of the loundry more than cooking and cleaning but still cleans the house just the way you like it — organized and neatly done. he doesn't step in the kitchen for he knows he might burn whatever he cooks so you don't let him step in there , it's either you come home and cook but if your tired , it's take out time!
whenever he does laundry he has a habit of smelling the clothes before folding for he like the smell of the detergent you use and the clothing softener should be if the best company because that is kinda professional when you go to work wearing soft and clean clothes.
dusts around the house with music playing in the background and does all the cleaning while blasting Oliva Rodrigo on the amazon echo you brought so he won't have to go on connecting his phone to the Bluetooth other than that he is just the best husband you could ask for.
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ KITA SHINSUKE !
he is the package , can cook , cleans , does laundry , keeps track of all budgets and savings , knows every nook and cranny of the house and is happy being a house-husband for you. kita buys the best clothing softener and detergent , is a man of his words for if he promises breakfast in bed for you then you get it.
he sets up the house according to a taste that suits him and you like almsot all the time after seeing it on pinterest — yes HE HAS PINTEREST and you can't change my mind — cooks the best meals like you're in heaven to be eating such delicious meals , laundry is done and the house smells like lavander and you don't know how he does that and he keep it a secret ( it's just him using scented house cleaning stuff ).
grocery shopping is done with you because it's to lonely for him to go out so it's shopping time on the weekends , he is like a stay at home mum but you love him and for god sake who wouldn't want a man like KITA SHINSUKE.
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ YAMAGUCHI TADASHI !
you enter the house with the smell of the most delicious food being cooked and when I say delicious , it's over the top delicious. he loves cooking so much that he forgets he has to clean as well and do laundry. yamaguchi almost does everything before stepping into the kitchen and prepare a bento for you in the early morning with starting to think for dinner — even though lunch is not even thought out yet — and what to be baked when your home.
it may not seem like but he has a passion for baking good for you.
he blasts playlist made for him by you and tsukki , and does the cleaning and laundry because sometimes it's to lonely in the house , he keeps track of time and when you're gonna come so he could prepare a bubble bath and then start with the cooking so you could have been relaxed and come eat with him.
when it's a weekend , he wakes up late but the breakfast is in his hands to be cooked , and in the evening it's time for him and you to have a baking session and you cherish this baby more than anything.
Tumblr media
NOIRFLMS 2024 ! all rights reserved - plagiarism is a crime , do not translate my works without permission.
495 notes · View notes
yawnderu · 6 months
Note
delulu time🤭
Everybody keeps talking about how Simon’s hands are constantly cold… But I have a feeling this man is a fucking furnace.
He’s so big and burly, so warm and cuddly… He’ll take off his hoodie and give it to you and it would as warm as if it just got out of the dryer. He’s so warm his cologne just spreads out like from an oil diffuser.
He’s looking so warm and cuddly just laying on the couch, you just want to put your hands down his sweatpants🤭 He’ll let you lay down on his chest, pulling his hoodie over your head and body.🦘
And with Simon being such a girl dad we have to talk about the ‘hot balls’ phenomenon. A theory that athletes and physically active people have more baby daughters because of having a slightly higher body temperature and the heat destroys male spermatozoa😭🫶🏼
I also believe he always wears a lot of layers, as many as the weather allows. He’ll always spare you his jacket… He has so many hoodies, socks, it’s insane… He’s so clean and disciplined, folding his clothes impeccably, his bed always perfectly made. His apartment is so neat, a remnant of his army ways.
Only problem is his place is always a little cold, he simply doesn’t need the heating like you do :( Your feet would get so cold he would simply have to warm them up in his lap, rubbing your soft soles against and tenderly kissing your pretty toes… He secretly loves it and that’s why he never puts the heating on :(
Don’t get me wrong, Simon isn’t a feet guy per se, but he adores every single part of you… He worships the ground you walk on. So he’s utterly blind to the fact that you’ve been feeding him so well these past months all in an attempt to get him to the optimal cuddling weight🤤 (photos for reference🤭)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ps. This is so discombobulated and corny but I can’t stop thinking about it. I swear I’m a better writer in my native language.🎀
YES YES YES TO ALL OF THIS.
I used to date a guy who was ALWAYS a fucking furnace. It was lovely during winter, but summer were nightmares in a small bed. x_x
Yeah!! I'm also a firm believer of Simon always having VERY warm hands, to the point he can easily sandwich your cold hands and heat them up almost instantly. Simon's body is always very warm, yet he uses long-sleeved shirts out of habit, keeping his tattoos hidden from his enemies to keep both of you safe and away from Ghost and his enemies.💗
One of his favorite things is putting his hoodie over your body when you're cuddling or standing together at home, watching your pretty face peer up at him from the fabric has to be the closest thing to heaven he's ever gotten.
The ‘hot balls’ phenomenon made me giggle GRJFEHJB God, he's such a girl dad that it hurts. I can see him cuddling his baby daughters, holding them close to his bare skin because they find it comforting and always sleep through the night without waking up whenever their papa puts them to sleep. <3
YES!! Simon loves rubbing and kissing your feet, simply because he loves you and loves using his body to make you feel better, his warm breath tickling your feet to the point you've been close to accidentally kicking his face more than once, yet it's worth if for him the moment you start thanking him for warming you up, rewarding him with a rapid-fire of kisses all over his rough face.
I stand by the fact that the easiest way to Simon's heart is his stomach. He needs to eat plenty of calories to maintain his body mass and keep growing muscles, coming home especially hungry after being at the gym, ready to eat whatever hot meal you've prepared for him. :((
Sometimes you have to remind him to eat slower, yet the small hiccups he gets after eating fast serve as reassurance that he absolutely adores and devours anything you cook.<3333
713 notes · View notes
feyascorner · 7 months
Text
Astarion who gets a cat after his lover succumbs to time.
He’s lost most of his desires for companionship. He prefers to lounge around what was your shared home all day, reading or taking care of things you left behind—like plants or belongings that need consistent attention. He remains as put together as he’s always been. Clean clothes, perfect hair, and a neat home. However, he doesn't dare to go into your room. No, that’s something he's silently sworn to never touch, fearing that he might taint the last of your mark on this cursed world.
He doesn't go out much anymore. He doesn't really see the point when you're not there to make the adventures truly fun. When you're not there to pull him out of stupid decisions like you always have.
So instead, a visitor comes to him each day. It’s a mangy thing, this cat. A bit chubby with legs on the shorter side, but by the gods if the thing isn't capable of jumping higher than his height. The first time he sees it loitering around his house, Astarion approaches it because its fur is the same shade as your hair. Quickly he realizes the thing hates him, because it practically attacks him with its claws.
Still, as time goes on, it begins to grow on him. No matter how many times he shoos it off, it comes back (albeit angrier) and wanders until Astarion feeds it a fish. Eventually, the cat is able to walk freely inside the home too, and Astarion won't freak out about the fur getting everywhere.
The cat is his only friend—if you could call it that. It sits beside him as he reads, paces alongside him as he cleans the house, and Astarion finds himself petting the damn thing while it sleeps. He still hasn't given it a name, and calls it “cat” which it doesn't seem to mind.
One day, it wanders into your room. Astarion freaks at first, suddenly yelling at it for to leave, but seeing the poor thing shrink away from him makes him sigh. He takes his first step into your room since your passing and finally takes it in. Your clothes, your bed, your scent. Everything feels distant now. Somehow it feels like you're still here when he's standing in the room.
But you're long gone, he thinks as he clutches onto one of your jackets. His fists clench around the fabric. You’ve left him to rot alone for the rest of his immortal life. But he's never asked for forever. He only wanted as much time as he could squeeze out with you.
Is that so much to ask?
There was so much to do.
So much he wanted to show you.
When fat tears land onto your jacket, his eyes widen. He didn't cry. Astarion never cried. Not even at your funeral, where everyone gave him pitying eyes did he feel water well up in his eyes. He's thought to have long lost that ability in the years he spent under Cazador. Yet here he was, crying like a child who'd just lost their mother at a carnival.
Something brushes against his leg. The cat again. It rubs it's face against his calf and he notices how soft it feels. He remembers how soft you'd felt in his arms. How kind and warm you were. How you'd been the sole light in his wretched, cursed life.
Dammit.
And then, he's sobbing. No longer crying, but wailing as he collapses onto his knees in your room, emotions built over years of lost mourning coming out all at once. He holds the cat, because holding your jacket makes his hands shake terribly. And it doesn't scratch and meow at him once in the hours it seems he cries pitifully on the ground.
This cursed cat, he thinks hours later, when he's lying on your bed with it sprawled on his chest. He has half the mind to kick it off, but refrains—a repayment for earlier.
It nuzzles against his hand.
Astarion decides then that he'd keep it. That until he'd be able to join you, he'd keep this one companion by his side.
1K notes · View notes