#i may or may not give a coherent response

[kisseobie]

piwon’s reaction to reader squirting? 🫠

p1harmony reacting to making you squirt

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

tags: unprotected sex (don’t do this lolz), cunnilingus (fem. receiving), crying, squirting (duh), rough sex, degradation, spanking, fingering, masturbation, mentions of piss, corruption, i think that’s the bulk of it?

a/n: apparently user kisseobie is the biggest whore on the planet bc i started writing this the minute i saw the notification in my inbox.. i couldn’t help myself from doing full fledged reactions sorry …. also i believe in pussy slapping keeho supremacy .. also don’t ask why i wrote so much i wasn’t planning on it….

❤︎ keeho

the two of you are sat on the soft carpet of keeho’s bedroom, your bare back pressed up against his clothed chest. your boyfriend has one hand tightly holding your face in place, forcing you to stare at the mirror in front of you and watch as his other hand descends between your thighs. his rough fingers gather your slick and you mewl in response, to which he gently pushes his fingers into your cunt. he may be an attentive lover, but he’s not the most patient, and his rigorous pace of fucking his digits into you is almost immediate, causing you to whine and thrash against him. “mm kyo, ‘s too much!” is the only coherent sentence you can get out of yourself as keeho ignores your pleas to slow down, only quickening the pace of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy. your eyes screw shut as your boyfriend’s hot breath hits your right ear, and with his mouth so close to your face, you can properly hear his quiet grunts and curses, the only indication that he’s not nearly as composed as he’s attempting to seem. when he notices that your eyes aren’t on your reflection anymore, he gives your clit a firm spank that makes you scream and jolt in surprise. “fuckkkkkk, no more p-please i can’t take it!!” you squeal, eyes shutting once again, partly because keeho’s assault on your pussy is salivating, and partly because your humiliated, humiliated that he’s capable of forcing you into submission so quickly, and how you sit in front of him fully naked while your boyfriend watches you, fully clothed and composed.

you can’t stop shaking and sobbing against him. he eventually lets you lay your head back on his shoulder as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, but his fingers never still. “look at you,” he coos, “haven’t even stuffed you with my dick yet and you’re drooling all over yourself. you’re so fucking nasty y/n” he taunts, only egging himself on with every insult. if you ignore his command to look at yourself, he once again grabs your chin and forces you to, laughing under his breath at your tears and dumbed out expression as you try your best to listen to your boyfriend’s next words. “need you to come for me, can you do that angel? you gonna cum around my fingers? gonna make a mess all over me?” he sweetly asks you, a heavy contrast to the pad of thumb currently drawing circles into your puffy clit. you can only nod in reply, feeling a more intense orgasm bubbling in your tummy and before you can warn him, keeho lands another slap against your mound that pushes you over the edge. you’re floating, vision white and toes curled as you writhe against kyo’s fingers. minutes pass by and you finally come back to your senses, feeling keeho laying pecks all across your bare shoulders as you slump into him, and that’s when you notice that there are spritz and drops of what seems to be liquid on keeho’s mirror, pooled on the carpet below you, and scattered across the smooth skin of your thighs. you can hear keeho’s heavy pants, and when you turn to apologize for the mess you’ve made, your words get stuck in your threat as you realize that your boyfriend didn’t mind one bit, quite the opposite actually. he’s on top of you in seconds, laying your back against the now damp carpet as he stares at you with a wild, lust-driven look on his face.

“think i can make you squirt around my cock next, pretty?”

“wait kyo! won’t fit, it won’t fit!” is your reply, but do you really think he gives a care in the world? he’ll make it fit, and he’ll draw those waves out from you until you’re both spent and soaked in your sweet juices <3

❤︎ theo

“wait so you’ve never..?”

“nope. i don’t think every girl can”

it started with an unserious conversation about your personal sexual experiences, a topic your new boyfriend was very curious about. for the most part, the atmosphere was lighthearted as you and theo took turns interrogating eachother, but a specific question asked by your boyfriend leads to you admitting that a guy has never made you squirt, much less orgasm before, to which theo shakes his head in denial. he’s hesitant to believe you, half anticipating you to laugh it off and tell him you were just joking. however, when you meet his quizzical look with a blank stare, his mind starts to drift to more dangerous depths. always competitive in nature, taeyang takes your underwhelming sexual past as a challenge, and his demeanor shifts to one consumed by lust within seconds. he suddenly wants to show you everything, wants you to feel better than you’ve ever felt before, wants to mark you as his and become the only boy you could ever desire.

an hour later, he has you bouncing on and creaming his cock, giving you your third orgasm of the night. shows you all he has to offer, from his skillful fingers and tongue, to his massive dick that fills you up so well, so well that a bulge appears in your tummy. he’s addicted to your taste, your moans, your begs, and fucks you so good that it’s almost unbelievable that this is your first time together. slaps your ass and gropes your tits like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. not only is taeyang ridiculously good at sex, he’s also got the dirtiest mouth on him. can’t stop the expletives and praises dripping off his tongue like honey, telling you things like “so tiny, you sure this isn’t your first time sweetheart? if my fingers can’t fit, how are you gonna take my cock, hm?”. is borderline snarling everytime you gasp at a new sensation, and he knows right away that he’s got you hooked. your willingness to take whatever he gives you unlocks a corruption kink in him that he didn’t know was there. obsessed with the way that everytime he pulls out, your hips move on their own to chase the feeling of him filling you up again. you have such cute reactions to everything he’s giving to you, but his favorite by far is your begs for him to fuck you deeper, harder, fill you up with his seed. theo is so shameless, he doesn’t even care that your neighbors can probably feel your headboard hitting the wall with every thrust, wants them to know that the innocent pretty girl next door is getting defiled.

currently, he has you with your face down and ass up, posing all pretty for him and showing off your little hole, still dripping with his cum as he lines up his length with your pussy lips and pushes in. you love how degrading this position in, how you’re completely at his mercy like this, dizzy with want as you drool at the thought of coming around his dick again. theo lands another firm smack against your ass cheek, and your legs buckle up from the pain and pleasure. you’re twitching against him, getting addicted to the way your body is being tossed around like a ragdoll, as if you were made to be taeyang’s personal cocksleeve. he pounds into you like it’s nothing, and it sends blood rushing to your core. you silently thank the heavens for blessing you with a boyfriend like theo when you feel another climax approaching, all whilst theo continues to assault your cunt and use you like a cum dump. just when you believe theo couldn’t make you feel any better, his hand slips in between your legs to draw circles into your clit, and you feel the knot in your tummy tear in one firm snap that has you shaking, gripping onto anything within your reach to try to ground yourself as he works you through your nth orgasm of the night. your arousal leaks out of you, dripping and splashing onto theo’s pelvis and your sheets, and it just doesn’t stop spilling. you can hear your boyfriend groaning in satisfaction, filling you up once again and pounding irregularly as you both ride your highs together. after a few moments, taeyang’s thrusts slow to lazy grinds until you push your hips away, pleading him for “noooo, no more yangie.. too sensitive..” as he just watches you escape his grip in amusement. your boyfriend gives you a few minutes to catch your breath, massaging little shapes into your skin to ease any pain he may have caused earlier. when you’ve finally descended back to planet earth, you turn to look at theo with a face of disbelief, and he grins and leans in to kiss you, pulling off your lips just as quick to stare at you, still smiling mischievously. then he’s sitting up on your bed again, fingers moving dangerously close to your wetness as you widen your eyes at his next words.

“what was that you said earlier, my baby doesn’t think she can squirt? but look at you now.. so messy, want me to clean you up? hm? think you can take it?”

❤︎ jiung

“shhh pretty, gotta stay quiet ok? don’t wanna get us in trouble, do you?” jiung taunts as he lazily strokes himself to the view of you playing with your cute pussy. you’ve never felt so vulnerable before, burning up at the intensity of his gaze as you muster up enough courage to spread your legs wider in order to please him. when jiung asked you to show him how you touch yourself when he’s on tour earlier, you didn’t expect to be so shy, but another part of you feels empowered at how the sight of you playing with yourself is making him lose all of his composure. although you’re currently at his dorm, and are aware that the rest of the boys are also here, the risk of them hearing you doing something so dirty is exhilarating. your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind either, completely detached from his surroundings and focused on the way you work 3 fingers into your hole, the way it gapes and swallows your digits. he’s breathing heavily in between his instructions, gaze dark as he continues to fuck up into his own palm. ji has always been so sweet with his praises, and everytime he calls you something as simple as pretty, you move your fingers a tad bit faster to chase your release. you’re about to inform him that you’re close, but he beats you to it by forcefully pulling your fingers away from your cunt, replacing them a few moments later with his own. jiung’s pace is less forgiving, and your control over the volume of your voice starts to waver as curls his fingers inside of you. the sensation of his ministrations, paired with the fear that any of his members could catch you in this position results in an odd buildup in your stomach. you’ve experienced earth shattering orgasms with your boyfriend before, but there is something different about the way this one is building up, and for a moment you’re terrified you’re about to piss all over his fingers and sheets. you remove one of your hands from it’s grip on his pillow and grab at jiung’s wrist instead in a panic, attempting to push him away and warn him but he doesn’t stop, in fact he only quickens his pace and scrunches his brows in concentration as you start to writhe and tremble. “ji wait! ah, fuck!” are the last words that leave your lips before you feel yourself gush all over his hand, and your eyes roll back as warm drops escape your womanhood.

your embarrassment of peeing yourself, despite how good it felt, snaps you out of the afterglow of your orgasm quicker than usual, and you’re about to apologize to the boy in front of you profusely but he cuts you off with “baby, you squirted”. when you look up at his face, he’s smiling so big, as if he’s a child that was just given a bucket of candy on halloween. “i uh, are you sure?” is the lame response that comes out of your mouth in a sigh, and you’re honestly relieved that you didn’t pee yourself and slightly less mortified at how quick you came because of your boyfriend’s pleased reaction. he just giggles in response and leans in to kiss you all over your face, his excitement is contagious, causing you to laugh along with him. “i didn’t even know i could do that..”

just when jiung is about to respond, loud knocking can be heard against his door. “you guys are so loud, can you please not fuck like rabbits when other people are here? some of us enjoy some peace and quiet”. you recognize the disgruntled voice as keeho’s, and although you’re a bit ashamed, your boyfriend just ignores the inquiry and kisses you again, fingers making their way back to your cunny as you sigh at the contact.

“keeho’s got some nerve if he thinks i’m gonna leave you alone tonight after you just squirted in front of me”

❤︎ intak

in true puppy nature, intak is obsessed with giving you backshots. doggystyle is his favorite position, he loves the way he gets full access to the sight of your bare back glistening with sweat as you praise how well he’s fucking you. tak is addicted to how your ass jiggles everytime your pelvis’ hit against each other, how he just has to peer downwards to see the ring of your frothy cum around his fat cock. yeah, intak loves giving you backshots, a fact so obvious that you’ve started to wear the skimpiest skirts around him, just to lure him into taking what you know he always wants.

tonight is no different. you’re sitting at your vanity, spritzing some of intak’s favorite scent of perfume onto your wrists and on the nape of your neck, adding minor touch ups to your full glam, and most importantly, sliding on the shortest skirt you’ve ever owned. the material clings onto the shape of your bum, and the length is so short that the bottom curve of your ass is on full display. you haven’t seen your boyfriend in days, and usually that just meant that you would have to do with your vibrator, but recently, the device just wasn’t enough, just didn’t hit the spot like your boyfriend did. to say you were sexually frustrated was an understatement. you needed to intak’s girth on your tongue, needed him to open you up and fuck you into next week. therefore, you’ve decided that tonight, you need to look as fuckable as possible. you’re determined to make intak’s jaw drop as soon as he lays his eyes on you, and once you’ve made sure you’re ready, you take one more good look at the mirror, then reach for your phone to check your text notifications. like clockwork, you receive a new message from intak as soon as you unlock your device.

takkie! <3: hi doll :) i’m here

takkie! <3: take ur time tho!

you heart his messages and giggle, thinking about how happy you are to see your boyfriend and spend time with him tonight. being away from him, even for a few days, is always such a bore. even if you plan on getting your insides rearranged in a few hours, just being within tak’s presence is enough to get you excited. as you make your way downstairs, you pull down your shirt just slightly, so your cleavage becomes visible. you slip on some wedges that match the color of your top and make your way towards intak’s bright red convertible, surprising him when you suddenly open the passenger door and plop yourself onto his leather seats. “hi baby! missed you so much!” is how you greet him, leaning in to give him a sloppy peck on the lips. you detach yourself from his face and smile innocently at him, observing the way he ogles your appearance and shamelessly stares at your breasts and legs. once he’s finally got a grip on himself, he smiles at you and tucks a stray piece of your hair behind your ear while responding with “missed you too doll, did you get all pretty jus’ for me?”

you did in fact get all pretty just for him, and you beam with victory as intak pushes your head down onto the surface of his back seats, his cock furiously pounding into you as he breathes heavy. “thought you could wear this shit and not get fucked? you’re so beautiful doll, you’re drivin’ me crazy. fuckkkkk”. tears are streaming down your cheeks, no doubt fucking up your mascara but you couldn’t care less as you internally laugh at the realization that your hunk of a boyfriend is just so easy to rile up, how you have such a big effect on him. he really is losing his mind, pathetically rutting into you like a dog as he leans forward to completely tower over your frame, hands groping your exposed tits as he tilts his head to lay kisses on your right ear. you’re chanting mantras of yes, yes, yes’ as intak plows into your heat, loving how dirty it all is, how everytime you get in the back of his car you’ll remember the feeling of your cum pooling onto his expensive seats. “gonna cum, fuck, where do you want it babe?” is the question that accompanies his sloppy thrusts, and you’re quick to beg for him to cum “inside! wanna feel it takkie”. your boyfriend quickly flips you over onto your back, and you’re about to ask what he’s doing until he enters you again, going at it impossibly faster until he feels the familiar shaking of your legs, the tightening of your cunt around him that signals that you’re close. he’s thrusting so viciously that you’re sure the car is rocking back and forth. intak’s sweat is starting to drip off onto you, and it only pushes you closer to that sweet edge. with a few more thrusts, you’re crying out and creaming around him, your juices squirting all over his seats as he pulls out to watch. you’re crying, feeling dazed and confused as to what just happened, embarrassment beginning to sink in and consume you until you look up to see intak’s face. his eyes are focused on your mess, cum weeping out of his tip as he whines louder than he ever has before. without skipping a beat, he’s pressing his cockhead against your clit, slapping it over and over in attempts to draw more juices out of you. he’s so focused, so consumed by lust that his pleas for you to “give me more. one more doll. need to see you squirt again, give it to me” come out hurried and mumbled. you’ve never seen your boyfriend quite this desperate, but it makes you hungrier for more.

long story short, you squirt over his leather seats again and he licks it all up, so your plan was in fact very successful!

❤︎ soul

you and shota have been at this for about a week. for context, it’s been precisely six days since you and your boyfriend lost your virginities to each other. six days ago you allowed soul to see you bare, touch and kiss you wherever he so pleased, and six days ago was the first instance where you realized why your classmates were always so crazy for sex.

so where, may you ask, has your recent deflowering led you to? well, back to your boyfriend’s bed, where your hands pull and tug at his long hair frantically as you search for a release. when you initially decided that you were ready to lose your virginity to soul, you didn’t really know what to expect other than pain. as it turns out, you and shota had such an incredible first time that you’ve spent the entire remainder of the week with your bodies never apart, every moment together being occupied with the two of you exploring each other with your fingers and tongues. it’s become concerning actually, how the loss of your virginity has only led you to become more curious. you want to know of each and every sound you can pull out of your lover, if he whines or groans, if he prefers to fuck into the warmth of your mouth or the plush of your thighs.

so like i said, you and shota have been at this for about a week. currently, he has you on your knees, letting you take the lead as he watches you suck and lick the tip of his heavy cock. you collect his precum into your mouth, smearing some excess onto your lips as you look up to lock eyes with him. sho is definitely pleased, enjoying the attention to his cock more than he’d ever admit out loud. he attempts to hide his groans by biting down on his bottom lip, but it’s no use when you start to bob your head up and down his length with no warning. his resolve is wavering, toes are curling, whines come out more freely as he never dares to break eye contact with you. you love the effect you have on your boyfriend, a fact that has only become evident to you this week during your self-proclaimed “sexcapade”. when shota is close, his length slightly twitches on your tongue and you take the reaction as a sign to release him with a pop!, much to his annoyance. “why’d you stop?” he frustratedly asks you, wincing as if he’s just been punched. “wanna try something…” is the only reply you give soul as the gears turn in your head, and suddenly your latching your hands onto the back of your boyfriend’s thighs and lightly pushing him onto the bed. he has a quizzical expression on his features, but he enjoys that you’re excited to try something new with him, this entire week proving to him that he’d do anything you asked him to, just to see you fall apart and sigh his name. you instruct your boyfriend to lay down flat against your bedsheets, and he follows suit right away, making your heart swoon before you resume your plan. shota opts to stay silent, trusting you with whatever you want to try, and he stays quiet when your putting one leg on either side of his head, dropping your pelvis onto his tongue as you face his cock, continuing to suck him off while he returns the favor to you. this position makes you feel so powerful, like you’re the only one who’s allowed to call the shots. your boyfriend doesn’t have any complaints either, just happy to have your cunt on his tongue and his cock on yours. the two of you work in, for the most part, silence, aside from the occasional groans and moans that slip past your lips when one of you adds additional pressure. every time your tongue presses against the slit of his cock, or your mouth sucks on his fat head, you make mental notes of all of the sounds of pleasure you can hear behind you. your thoughts begin to drift, thinking about how you can’t believe you led shota to doing something so nasty, something you would most likely see in a corny porno, but as he laps and slurps at your pussy lips, you decide you couldn’t care less. soul is very good at giving head, another epiphany you have had this week, which excites you a little too much. you’re pulled back into reality from your thoughts, however, when your boyfriend uses his teeth to slightly nip at your clit, putting enough pressure to make you squeal.

“sho! god keep doing that.. ‘s good, feels sooooo good!” is what breaks the silence in your bedroom, and soul is nothing if not a quick learner. he continues to flatten his tongue against the groove of your vaginal lips, top to bottom until he reaches your little bud, then biting at it to get another pleasured noise out of you. he goes a little overboard with the biting, but you only push against his mouth, so he figures it must feel good and continues to please you. you on the other hand, have completely abandoned shota’s cock, too preoccupied with noticing how different the coil in your pelvis feels, how much more intense it builds up until it finally snaps, and what follows is only describable as pure bliss. you’re loud, moans are wanton as you grind your hips onto shota’s tongue, riding out your high when you realize that you feel a lot wetter than you would with your typical orgasm. you finally lift your pussy off of shota’s face and the sudden change of position makes you aware of the cum splattered on the side of your cheek, signifying that your boyfriend got a little too excited by your climax. you pivot your body to face him, mostly to make sure you didn’t go too overboard, and are met with shota’s pretty face, glistening with a strange wetness that you soon realize is yours. you stare at your boyfriend as he begins to lick at his own mouth and chin, eyes darkening as he grabs and kisses you messily. you can taste your essence on your own tongue and whine at how desperate shota is being, how your explosive orgasm has begun to show you a side of soul you didn’t know existed. the rest of the night is spent with your boyfriend making you squirt over and over again hehe <3 he lives to make you feel good

❤︎ jongseob

“need to feel you, ah! in me seobie, please! wan’ your cock in me sooo bad, please put it in?”

the pathetic words that come out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping yourself have the biggest effect on the boy under you. you’re currently straddling your boyfriend, grinding your panty-clad cunt on the outline of his dick, staining seob’s sweatpants with a small patch of your wetness. you don’t know why you’re feeling especially needy today, but seeing your boyfriend after a hard, long week of class makes you crave to be filled up by him. jongseob looks up at you in astonishment, lips forming a cute little “o” as his hands are placed tightly on both sides of your waist. he take this time to admire how sexy you look like this, grinding on him in only a crop top and tiny pair of panties. he could definitely get used to the view, and has to bite back pathetic moans of his own from escaping his plush lips, wanting to fully focus on the sounds you make as you hump him like a bitch in heat. he’s about to tell you to slow down, that he’ll take care of you but he needs to stretch you out first, but you’re not patient enough to wait for him to answer your previous pleas. his eyes widen as he watches you huff and pause the roll of your hips, and seob nearly faints when you cross your arms to pull your skimpy top off of your body, or when you hook your fingers under his sweats, pulling them down just far enough to where you can grab at his now exposed dick. to this, he sits up onto his elbows, not wanting to jump into penetrating you without prepping you first.

“princess wait, are you sure? haven’t stretched you out yet, don’t wanna hurt you baby..” he sweetly informs you, making you pause for a minute to look into his eyes. you scan all over his face, how his blonde bangs are now damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead, the mole below his eye that you love so much, the heart eyes he’s shooting at you, and his pink lips struggling to hold in his heavy breaths. you grab his face with your hands and give him one long kiss on the lips before you pull back to reply, “wanna make it hurt seobie, wanna feel you all up in my guts, please, been thinkin’ about it all day!” and fuck, how is he supposed to tell his princess no when she’s asking for his cock so sweetly? your request is enough initiative for jongseob to flip you over with haste, towering over you as he pinches your panties to the side and slips in, not worried about discarding the rest of his clothes as he’s only concerned with pounding into your cunny until you’re completely filled up to the brim with his seed. his hands are everywhere, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, caressing your pretty face, kneading at your tits, until he finally settles one hand on your waist, and the around your throat. the slight weight and pressure of his hold makes your eyes roll back. “oh my- fuck, yes!! you’re so fucking big seobie!” is what urges your boyfriend to snap his hips even harder into you, his ego boosted by just how loud you are. you’re so responsive, he can feel your pussy tightening around him into a vice grip, as if you want to milk him for everything he has and more. your begs and whines only increase in volume when he dips a finger down to play with your clit, and after a few seconds you’re crashing, melting into him as he continues to fuck you through both of your orgasms. he’s peppering your face in kisses to bring you down from cloud nine, praising you for being so sexy, so good for him. you don’t even realize that this is the first time you’ve squirted in front of your boyfriend until he’s sinking down to level with your cunt, displaying a crazy look in his eyes before he dives in and starts to fuck his tongue into you with as much vigor as he fucked you with earlier. pulls away for a moment to take a good look at your face, and then opening his mouth to say,

“you’re so sexy baby, gonna make you squirt again. you wanted this, right? wanted it so bad and now you’re twitching like you can’t handle it. gon’ fuck you into next week baby, will you let me?”

a/n: i <3 needy piwon

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @cysier @fishsquishh

❤︎

[misuutira]

Pride Month may be over, but no one can stop me from sharing my silly headcanons. >:) 

[tacticalprincess]

Bro… I love your writing sm. I need another/multiple docs about the Eiffel tower between Konig and Simon.. like imagine y’all are roommates and just causally fuck every weekend and get drunk lmao.

Need that in my life. Anyway. Have a great day and stay hydrated 🫶🏻

simon x afab!f!reader x könig

you’re all pleasantly buzzed and warm from distributing a bottle around between the three of you — though they may have skipped their turns a few times when you weren’t paying attention — and somehow it became your turn to be passed around their broad laps. they already have to restrain themselves from being all over you sober, but the more alcohol that passes through their system, the greedier their hands tend to get. not that you mind, your inhibitions lowered meant feeling especially touchy and horny, letting yourself bask in the feeling of being groped by and made out with by your two doting, giant men.

“i got first tonight,” simon heaves out, smiling at the way your kiss-swollen lips trail after his, the way you mewl cutely at the loss of contact. he pats your hip. “gotta break ‘er in and all that. ‘s been a while, hasn’t it, sweetheart?”

“you got first the last three times. don’t need you boring her to sleep before i get to her again.” könig brushes your hair out of your face gingerly, heart clenching at the way you drunkenly preen into his touch. “not that she’d mind.”

“think the phrase you’re lookin’ for is ‘wearin’ her out’…”

they’re talking about you like you’re not there, and it really should be degrading, but you like the fact that you can turn your brain off when they’re around, trusting them to take care of you, making all the decisions while you sit pretty and take what they decide to give you. at least until their arguing gets to be too annoying, and you’re forced to step in and put them in check.

“why don’t we ask her?” könig’s suggestion makes you tune back into their conversation.

simon hums in agreement like he just remembered you could talk. “who would you like first, darling?”

“mmm.“ you search your muddled brain for a coherent response under the overwhelming pressure from their undivided attention. the smell of strong liquor on their breath and heady musk radiating from their bodies clouds your senses, warming your abdomen. you glance between the two of them, vision a little fuzzy around the edges, and gasp suddenly, “why not both?”

they both raise a curious brow at each other. “bit late to prep you for anal, baby. gotta give us a notice.” an endeared laugh pushes its way out of simon’s throat.

“no… both of you here.” you giggle, moving his large hand from your hip to cup your mound through your panties.

könig curses in german under his breath, dizzy with how much of his blood rushes south as he adjusts his pants.

“standby, soldier.” simon shoots a warning glance at him like talking down a tiger ready to pounce. he looks down at where your hands connect just under your womb. “this little cunt can barely fit me, what makes you think she can take both of us at the same time?”

the gravity of your request doesn’t quite register for you as you shrug a shoulder, smiling. “‘m a big girl, si. you won’t break me.”

“sounds like a challenge, maus.”

[the-writer-arrived]

Inappropriate Behavior in the Workplace

Synopsis: you decide to give your lover a hand in his work as a bartender, helping out as a waitress for the busy friday night. little did he know that your intentions were far from pure...

Characters: diluc ragnvindr; gallagher.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; unprotected sex (please use protection in real life!); semi-public sex (you fuck in the empty tavern); soft men becoming rough men; spanking; reader is a brat; reader wears a skirt; your man becomes a horny mess for you good luck dealing with him; headcanons + a drabble.

A/N: diluc 🤝 gallagher -> hot guys that work at a bar (and fuck their lover there post-work hours) that make my brain go brrrrrr.

<<This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>

He should have known. He should have listened to his gut feeling that you were up to no good, when you were suddenly very insistent about helping him out at the bar that friday.

But nooooo, you had to bat those little doe eyes of yours at him, like the purest, sweetest angel that you are for him to give in to your whims.

After all, that would mean spending more time with his beloved woman, instead of having her wait for him all alone back home.

Oh, if only he could look past the rose-tinted lens of love and adoration to realize the perfect trap you had prepared for him...

There were essentially three main situations that should have given you away, but that fool (/affectionate) is too much in love with you to have realized in time:

The first being your insistance of wanting to work with him in one of the busiest nights of the week. Your reason? He's been too busy lately with his other duties, so you wanted to at least be beside him... (Critical hit in his heart).

The second, your unusual choice of clothing - a skirt. Now, he isn't one to tell you what you should or shouldn't wear, he's simply surprised by it, considering it's a rare sight for you to use it. And hey, you looked absolutely beautiful with it.

The third and most obvious one - your smile. But not any smile. The one you specifically have on your lips when you have some mischief up your sleeve. Like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspected bird.

When everything clicked inside his head, it was already too late...

You had gone behind the bar to help him clean the counter, the rush of customers dying down for the moment. While distracted wiping a glass, he accidentaly bumped into you, causing you to drop the empty cans left by some customers.

He quickly apologized, but you reassured it was fine, which really was! (He unbeknownst set the scene for the grand finale of your nefarious plan).

You, helpful as always, bent down to pick up the cans without thinking twice, causing the hem of your skirt to raise up a bit too much. Your man, gentleman as he is, was about to warn you to be careful, but any coherent thought was thrown out of the window.

It was a just glimpse. He could argue that it was just the work of his dirty imagination. A trick of the light. Anything.

But no. He knew exactly what he saw. And the wink that you gave him as you sauntered away was all the confirmation he needed to know he wasn't mistaken.

You're not using any panties.

You're working in his establishment, looking stunning as usual, with your pussy hidden only by your skirt.

Oh he feels light headed... due to all the blood going straight to his crotch.

It all makes sense now, your behavior, your choice of clothing... And now you're suddenly taking care of the tables, knowing that he can't leave the bar anymore with the big tent in his pants.

...Is this punishment for not paying attention to you the past few days? If so, he never knew you could go to such lengths to teach him a lesson...

Still, you should know that your lover isn't one to take things laying down. So, you better enjoy yourself making him squirm while you still have the advantage...

And enjoy yourself you do, much to his dismay.

He follows you with his eyes like a hawk, mind swirling with a myriad of feelings: annoyance, for being teased so cruely like this; worry, that someone might accidentaly see what they shouldn't; impatience, for the damn clock to stop dragging its hands and reach closing time already; and arousal, for having being tricked into a situation which you are the one in control.

As the night goes slowly by and the number of customers begins to decrease, the tension between the two of you grows more and more, like a volcano about to erupt.

Until finally, at long last, it's time to close the tavern.

It's time to show you the consequences of your actions.

----------

After bidding his employees a good night, he wastes not a single second more, locking the door behind him as the last inch of his patience snaps.

You're wiping one of the tables, pretending not to hear his steps coming closer to you from behind, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine. Before you can utter a word, you see his shadow falling on you, like a predator ready to pounce on his cornered prey.

He takes the dirty rag from your hand and throws it away, wrapping a strong arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. His other hand goes to grab your chin, turning your head to the side before stealing your breath with a kiss.

Actually, it can't even be called a kiss, but more like a two pairs of lips mashed together. It's messy, desperate and intense, his tongue invading your mouth with the objective of claiming every single part of you. Your lover's touch is rough, but not without care. Even when he's lost amidst the fiery passion that has consumed his usual composure, he never fails to make you feel loved.

As intoxicating as this moment feels, the need of oxygen is still a necessary thing for the both of you, prompting him to finally release your lips with a gasp for air. But not a second later he latches his mouth on your neck, nibbling, kissing and licking the tender flesh that soon becomes warm by his attention.

"Do you have any idea of what you did to me today?" His question is a rhetoric one, aware that your ability to think straight isn't working anymore to string an answer. "What am I saying, of course you do. In fact, you've came up with your little plan wanting things to turn out this way, right?"

Your only response is a moan when he grinds his clothed erection on your behind. Honestly, you didn't expect your plan to work so well like this, witnessing a side of him you're not used to, but still very turned on.

"Walking around all pretty like this, serving customers and helping the other employees out, with no panties on..." You let out a gasp of surprise when you're suddenly pushed down on the table, your skirt flipped out to expose your bare private parts, your cheeks flaring up as he caresses your buttock. "...Who knew I had such a lewd girl for a lover."

The harsh slap on your ass forces a loud yelp out of you, the pain of the sting mixing with pleasure that makes you shuddering. The sight of the plush skin jiggling at his action leaves him hypnotized and with his pants even tighter.

"I was tense the whole night, you know. Worried that some scumbag would try something funny and end up seeing what is for my eyes only." Another slap, now on the other asscheek, and he notices your pussy glistening with arousal at each hit. "You're getting even wetter... You're enjoying this, huh?"

A pitful whine of his name paired with the teary look you throw at him is enough to convince him to give up on his previous idea of dragging out this teasing and go straight to what you both have been desiring all evening.

Your lover grumbles in frustration at his vexing belt and pants, pushing the garment down enough to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip angry red and with precum.

You're so pent up with need that he doesn't even need to prep you further, seeing that you spread your folds yourself for him, impatient to have your wish fulfilled at long last. So, doing both of you a favor, he doesn't waste any more time and slides himself in, eyes rolling back at the warmth enveloping him.

"Fuck, so tight darling..." He massages your waist, trying to get you to ease up a little. You feel so fucking good, he fears he won't last at all.

His hips pick up the pace as your moans and pleas grow to a crescendo, your voice like a siren that beckons him to dive head first into this addicting chase for carnal pleasure, enhanced by the love shared between you two.

Sooner than he would have preferred, your lover reaches his peak, head thrown back and hips grinding hard against your behind, his cum filling you to the brim. You can feel your climax coming as well, his orgarsm bringing your own...! Until his cock suddenly slides out of you.

"W-Wha- Why did you-- ah!" Your words are interrupted by two fingers of his intruding your fluttering hole, him putting his weight on your back as he shushes you.

"You didn't think you get what you want so easily, did you love?" His voice is husky in your ear, fingers pushing his release back inside your pussy. "No, no, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to cum now."

You whine in protest, attempting to wiggle your hips to get any sort of friction as you feel the waves of your impending climax waning.

"Please, love, please let me cum, please! It's been so long since I've felt your touch, I need you!"

His breath hitches when he listens to your begging, not expecting the neediness in your tone. It seems like his busy schedule the past few days took a heavier toll on you than he thought. He sighs, his heart is too soft for you to continue his original pay back.

"Alright, you win... But know this is the only time I'll let you off the hook for your little stunt, you hear me?"

You nod your head quickly, thank you's and promises to be a good girl falling easily from your tongue. However, you knew none of what either of you said will remain, you will continue being your teasing little self and he will continue letting your brat behavior slide, because that's the kind of couple you are.

But that's the least of your concerns right now, your mind returning to the foggy state of pleasure as you continue your inappropriate actions in many different surfaces of his bar, adding yet another secret item to your list of things one shouldn't do in the workplace.

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red diluc and gallagher banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[belovedyandere]

I can’t stop thinking about Yandere solider overstimulating his darling. pumping his cock until his legs are violently shaking and he isn’t able to form a coherent sentence. completely ignoring his own raging boner in order to focus on his cute boyfriends dick and his fucked out face, head thrown back, drool spilling from the side of his mouth, eyes half-lidded. and after he’s had his fun whispers nothing but loving and caring words telling him how well he’s done.

cw. dubcon, oral, over-stimulation, sexual themes, yandere themes

it’s difficult for him to remain in a stable rhythm when both your hands flail to hold onto him, to somehow let him know he needs to slow down. he had already latched onto you, putting you through hours of foreplay. you had question his stamina and wondered about how his jaw had never gone tried from the amount of rounds the soldier went through sucking you dry. even when the whole tiring ordeal was done, he made sure to give an extra clean, leading to a few more extra messes and unbearable stimulation. his will power had held on for a long time, with the way he rubbed his raging boner against the bed sheets yet never taking charge in releasing the excruciating pain that he endured. it was as though if death would be at his door if he even so lifted his jaw from your cock to breathe. it wasn’t until you had begged him to stop that he finally relented. yet somehow, through kind words and mini make-out sessions that you couldn’t reject from how drained you were, you found yourself in a worrying position.

you had been lifted into the air effortlessly, your back resting against his chest as he stands with no struggle. it was clear that by the time insertion of his particularly large member, you had felt exhaustion at its peak and now it felt all too overwhelming. he believes your need to stop may mean you’re afraid of being dropped, but in believing that, he wants to prove to you that there’d never be even a possibility of this ever happening.and besides, this position should bring some form of comfort to you, this level of closeness he only fantasies of every second throughout the day is almost soul binding to him. the control he has of your body, the pace and strength is all within his own influence only further has his heart reeling with want and desire.but there’s no doubt he’s responsive to your wants, slowing down but never decreasing the force of his cock penetrating within your deepest of walls.

it was clear that by the time insertion of his particularly large member, you had felt exhaustion at its peak. gradually slowing down, he drawled out long thrusts. however, it had felt that the decrease in speed made you more perceptive of his size and shape. perky veins pulsating against you, it’s thickest base stretching you within each push and pull. it had you squirming, your toes tightly scrunching while your fingers dug into his scarred skin. his breathing is rough, he’s tired as well, but sleep means nothing to him if he can have you this compliant against him. allowing him to have this closeness of a warm body, your warm body had meant that sanity and peace of mind from sleep was no longer welcomed at this stage. especially when his release is so close, he noticed yours is as well with how your hold tightens in anticipation of your gut churning with pleasure. but he knows with this speed it’d only prolong it, and to many that may have them grow impatient but for your soldier, he savours every thrust, every tightening, each mewl, each tired glances and all the time he has you like putty in his arms. minutes go by, and you can feel your stomach build up for the release and you can feel the thrusts seem to grow intense.

soon he’s releasing a thick load that had been stirring ever since he had returned home, it gushes into you, filling your walls, letting itself known that it had been there in your deepest of lustful places. you follow right after, twitching and jerking in his hands while you paint the floor white. routinely he praises you and whispers against your ears kind words that praise your entire being, but all you can hear is rugged breaths and whimpers. he tried to speak but he struggles. the buildup had him swimming in euphoria. he had only hopes that his this would continue in his dreams.

[vampcubus]

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : the sub rengoku thirst i was talkin' about. just wanna fuck him stupid and watch him struggle to keep up, ya feel me? :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!kyojuro rengoku, fem!dom!reader, kyojuro’s raging breeding kink, dumbification, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight choking kink. :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 1k+

Moonlight filters into the room from the window, illuminating Kyojuro’s body in a silvery light. 

Kyojuro is hardly coherent by now, reduced to a dumb drooling puppy as your ass slaps against his thighs again and again, gummy walls squeezing him so snug it’s like you’re trying to milk him of every drop of cum. He’s eager to give it to you, fiery eyes all half-lidded and glossy, transfixed on your pretty pussy swallowing his cock. It’s maddening; how tight, hot, and perfect you feel wrapped around him.

“You’re stretching me out so much, Kyo. I love the way your cock feels inside me,” you praise, and his blond lashes flutter, head tipping further back.

“It’s yours — all yours, my love. ahh, it belongs to you. I belong to you.” He babbles nonsensically, hips finally starting to buck up into your vigorous bounces. “Use me for your pleasure.”

You can’t help but moan at that, twitching around him. Ultimately Kyojuro strives to please you, his pleasure is a byproduct of that desire. You can see it in the worship that gleams in those bright eyes, fixated on where your bodies meet.

“Want me to use you, huh?” you pant, rolling your hips in a circle. “Want me to ride you till I cum all over your fat cock?”

Kyojuro moans at that and his hips jut upwards into you with surprising force. 

“Yes, please,” he laughs breathlessly, and a grin tugs at your mouth corners though you try to fight it. His fucked-dumb smile is too infectious.

Even smiling, Kyojuro looks beautifully pathetic underneath you, hands grabbing uselessly at your hips. He’s holding rather than guiding, conscious not to disrupt your pace.

You peel one of his hands from your hip and guide his thumb to your clit, moaning delightedly when he swirls the rough pad over it in time with your thrusts. Your pussy squeezes around him and again his hips jolt, hitting that sweet spot perfectly. Your mouth falls open, hands bracing on his shoulders as you slam yourself up and down his cock with more vigor. 

Kyojuro starts making these urgent cries, his dick pulsing with need within you.

His thumb slurs over your clit for but a moment before he’s sobbing, “Please, may I cum with you?”

He might actually burst into tears if you refused him, balls full and heavy with a backlog of cum from being denied orgasm endlessly. Even in your delirious state, you find it in your heart to be merciful, eyes soft and adoring as you brush a few sweat-slicked strands of golden hair from his sticky forehead.

“Fill me up lots, Kyo,” you purr.

“Oh, gods-” His eyes roll back into his head at the mere implication, body screaming for release. “I will, I will!”

“Put a baby in me,” you whisper, and the strangled noise he makes in response is hardly human.

Yes, he’ll do that. He wants to make you a mommy, fill you to the brim with seed til you can’t hold anymore, see you swell with child – his child, he muses possessively. breed you, he wants to breed you.

He’s wound so tight, so close to snapping in two. Your soft fingers trace soothing shapes across his cheeks as your greedy cunt swallows him whole, your honeyed praises and the soft look on your face a stark contrast to how you devour him, take what you need from him without mercy. Something inside him aches, not out of longing but of love for you. He loves you to the point of pain, to madness.

“C-cumming, I’m-” 

He’s so loud when he finally cums, ropes and ropes spurting out of him in a warm stream, filling you entirely. The feeling makes you erupt with shivers, eyes half-lidded and watching intensely as he writhes and bucks, emptying his balls into you. His end inspires you to chase your own, a necklace of fingers encircling his throat as you fuck yourself on his cock with more enthusiasm. 

A white ring forms at the base of his cock as his cum starts to leak out, some sticking to your thighs as you move. His mewling is reduced to pathetic croaks as his head gets fuzzier and fuzzier, and he pinches his eyes shut at the overstimulation.

He feels you flutter around him and forces his eyes back open to watch you fall apart, going slack-jawed when finally you gush around him, hand tightening around his neck as you shake and moan. Your bouncing slows to a grind, fingers loosening around his throat, to which he gasps for air, but it’s stolen from him once again as he’s thrown violently into a second orgasm, back arching off the futon to meet you. 

It’s more intense this time, ravaging through him like nothing he’s ever felt before. It has to be your fault, you have to know what you do to him.

Kyojuro doesn’t realize he’s passed out until he comes to, blinking rapidly at your creased brows as you hover above him worriedly.

“There you are. Was too busy cumming my brains out to notice you fainted! You ok, baby?” you asked sheepishly, and Kyojuro can’t help but be entertained at the change in demeanor. His hand takes yours, fingers filling the empty spaces between your own and squeezing affectionately.

“More than ok, my love. You were wonderful as always — ah, careful w-we’re still…” he flinches when you shift in his lap, still stuffed full of his cock.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” you giggle, that patronizing lilt returning to your voice. Kyojuro’s mouth goes dry, his cock twitching back to life within you. “You told me to use you, and I’m not finished using you yet.”

“Oh, then my apologies!” he chuckles heartily, it’s full of mirth… and a bit of righteous fear. “Feel free to-”

A pitiful sound leaves him as you start up again, your mixed fluids making it slippery and much too easy to return to a brutal pace. His honey-colored eyes gloss over, tongue falling out his mouth in a way that makes your loins throb.

You’ll be the death of me, he thinks. Though as he drools, begs, and fills you to the brim until he’s cumming dry, he concedes that a little death wouldn’t hurt.

[ohnococo]

Fight Night: Recovery | MMA!Fighter Sukuna x F!Reader

You return home in the early hours of the morning after your celebratory night out with Sukuna. You clean each other up, as promised, and things get steamy.

✧ Notes: Hello! I’m back with more of these two. If you haven’t read my series Fight Night, please do or Sukuna may seem unusually soft here. If you have, welcome back! Anything I post for this series will be less structured, just little moments in the lives of Sukuna and reader.

✧ Warnings: Fem bodied reader, implied drinking/partying, showering, very light body worship, bathing each other, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, explicit mention of old cum being cleaned

Fight Night Masterlist

You awaken to the feel of Sukuna’s arms sliding beneath you, lifting you from where he’d deposited you on his bed. He squeezes at your upper arms, encouraging you to hang onto him as he carries you to the bathroom. It’s a difficult task, with how your body feels as though it may as well be boneless at this point, but you manage.

“Took you long enough.”

“And how long did it take me?”

You don’t have to peel open your heavy lids to know he’s smirking, knowing full well you have no clue since you were out the second your body hit the bed. In lieu of the response he wasn’t really asking for, you wrap your arms tighter around his neck, keeping yourself pressed tightly to his bare chest before he sets you down onto the closed toilet. Once he has a hand wrapped around your ankle, you find it in you to open your eyes, if only to take in the sight of Sukuna kneeling in front of you as he pulls off your shoe and tosses it aside.

“Gentle, please.”

The look he gives you threatens to inspire something in your worn out body, brows raised as if his eyes alone were telling you off for daring to boss him around. It doesn’t stop him from removing the other shoe and setting it down slightly more gently, though.

He stands and begins unbuckling his belt, followed by undoing his trousers, and you finally notice that the sound of running water is coming from the shower instead of the bathtub as you’d been expecting.

“I thought you were going to run a bath.”

He shakes his head dismissively, pushing his trousers and boxer briefs down in one go and kicking them off, “I’m too tired for all of that.”

The corners of your mouth curl upward, like he’d admitted some well kept secret with that small statement. “So you do get tired.”

“Sometimes.” It’s said simply, a thin veil of a response over the reminder that he would always keep you on your toes when it came to these things.

You lift your arms, looking up at Sukuna through your lashes and doing a little expectant wiggle.

“I’ve got to do everything, hm?”

“You promised to clean me up.”

He tilts his head and lets out a little huff, “Fair enough.”

And that’s that, as he tugs the bottom of your dress up your thighs and over your ass. It’s a job made easy by how stretched out the thick blue fabric had become over the course of the night from all the times it had been hiked up to give Sukuna the access you rarely denied him. You decide to aid him slightly, undoing the buttons at the back of your neck before stretching your arms back into the air. He pulls it over your head and off, tossing it aside with the rest of the removed clothing. Getting you naked is quick work, given how the low back of the dress had left you unable to wear a bra in the first place, and your panties had been discarded before you’d even reached the halfway point of the night.

His arms settle back onto your waist, helping you lift yourself onto your feet, and they keep their place loosely - even as you turn and take heavy steps to the shower while he follows. You can tell from his hovering hands that he half-expects you to slip or stumble with how barely-coherent you’d been earlier, but you find the little nap you’d gotten on the way home and then on his bed was enough to give you somewhat of a second wind. Still, you enjoy having his hands so near, ready to keep you steady should you need it.

You settle yourself with your back to the spray of water, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face to his chest. “Wash my hair?”

He doesn’t answer outright, instead leaning down to grab something among the products that had accumulated in the corner of his shower over the last several weeks. Your head goes with his gentle movement, not wanting to leave its comfortable spot against his firm chest, and when he straightens with shampoo in hand he sets it on the higher tiled shelf with his own products so it’s within easy reach.

As he backs you further into the falling water, you don’t expect much, but Sukuna exceeds those expectations with how gentle he is as his fingers smooth over your hair. He dips his fingertips into the thick of it, shaking lightly to make sure it’s wet all the way through before he’s picking the bottle of shampoo up again.

Were you slightly more coherent, you’d notice how his motions mimic your own from the times the two of you had showered together since you began occupying more and more of his space. Times when Sukuna quietly enjoyed your proximity, washing off sweat formed from nights spent much more sober, and much less clothed than this one had been. Though now you were drinking and fucking and dancing your way through the city just like you once had, and it left you both with a much bigger mess to clean.

Once he’s got shampoo in your hair, followed by his fingertips at your scalp making firm circles, you lean your head back into his hands, letting him cradle your head as he works. You let out a small groan and his warm breath hits your face as you open your eyes and see the look he’s giving you.

“Don’t make noises like that if you don’t want to get fucked.”

You laugh, squeezing his waist tighter with your arms, “I’m too sore.”

“Hasn’t stopped us before.”

“And I’m tired. I thought you were too?”

He dips his head down, water hitting his own hair and making you close your eyes as it cascades off of him and onto your face. His nose brushes yours as his mouth hovers close, already open and waiting for you to do the same, and once your lips are parted he speaks low into your mouth, making you listen before you have his kiss.

“It’d take a lot more than a night out to have me too tired for that.”

It has you smiling as his lips meet yours and you taste remnants of the night on his tongue. It’s enough to have you questioning whether you could possibly handle his cock one more time, but that dull sting below as his kiss has you clenching reminds you that the two of you aren’t in nearly the rush you had been during your first times partying. So you pull back, pressing your forehead to his mouth when he tries to lean in for more, and he’s satisfied to place a final kiss there before he returns to washing your hair.

He takes more care than you had anticipated, even once you melt into him further, forehead resting on his chest as he does a surprisingly thorough job. Then he’s removing his fingertips, closing his large hands from your temples to the top of your head in a makeshift headband as he tilts you back into the spray. He runs them back over your head, effectively wringing out anything left with the help of the warm water. He repeats this again, until your head is bobbing and he gathers all of your hair into a sort of ponytail, squeezing lightly as he presses a kiss to your chin.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Despite the warning in his voice it just makes you chuckle, thoughts half-formed as his touch makes you feel more and less drunk at the same time. “I’m not gonna fall asleep standing, I’m not a horse.”

He lets out a little breath through his nose at that, but moves on otherwise with a hint of something to gnaw on in his voice, “Should I expect you to reciprocate?”

You laugh, leaning your head forward, pulling your hair out of his loosened grasp and returning your forehead to its now-familiar place against his chest. “Do you have a stepladder for that?”

He sighs, able to feign annoyance despite the apparent tiredness he’d mentioned earlier, the very tiredness you were still dubious of as you open your eyes and look down to see his heavy cock stirring with interest. “The rest of me, then.”

“That, I can manage.”

Despite your words you take your time moving from your comfortable spot, bracing yourself to be out of the reach of the warm water. Once you’re ready you tug at Sukuna’s waist, trying to move him into position, and he lets you - smile on his face at your attempts. The water only reaches his shoulders, travelling down in small streams that twist and wind along his muscle and drip off loudly to the tiles below.

You reach for his shelf and gather soap in your palm, lathering it up, and then letting it aid in slipping your hands across his neck and shoulders. With your mind set on not pushing your body too far, and on passing out as soon as possible, you try your very best to ignore the girth stirring in front of you. Sukuna knows very well what thoughts are going through your mind, and smiles as he finally releases you from his hungry gaze, busying himself with washing his own hair as you continue rubbing along his abs and down to his hips.

Your fingers work carefully through the thick hair at the base of his cock, well-dirtied with both your messes through the night, until the water rinses it clean. A glance up at him reveals him watching you again, this time with curiosity in his soft smile, to see if you’ll leave any of him ignored in an attempt to calm the beast hanging hard and heavy with water finding its own path off each of the silver beads along the underside of his cock. You slide your fingers around it entirely, working soap into the hair of his balls, delving into the space between his thighs as well. He chuckles above, drawing your eyes back up to him for a moment, then as you look back down at your task he closes his eyes and tilts his head back to rinse his hair out.

Even with his hair rinsed clean, he leaves his eyes closed and his head back, sighing when your hands slide around his hips and away from his cock as you lather up what you can reach of his back. You make your way lower, accompanied by soft suds, until you’re squeezing and rubbing at his ass.

Sukuna dips his head down to speak into your ear, sending droplets from his hair and onto your face. “I thought we were past you being frightened of it.”

“Oh, please.” You crane your neck back, separating your bodies enough for him to be sure to see the look you were giving him, squeezing his butt hard to emphasise that you were absolutely not afraid of any part of him. “I’m not scared of that thing.”

“This thing?” His smile widens enough that his eyes crinkle shut.

“Yeah.” Your smile back is as playful as you can manage with you using the last of your focus to wash him, and you offer his ass a little spank and spread his cheeks lightly as you squeeze again, a move similar to one he’d done to you many times before. “That thing.”

He closes that small distance again, tracing his tongue along the shell of your ear before whispering, “It won’t hurt you.”

“It already has.”

He leans back, a small hint of a question in his eyes that you don’t need him to ask.

“But not in a way I can’t handle.”

“Of course.” He turns around then, rinsing remnants of soap off before cleaning his cock himself while you busy yourself with washing his back more thoroughly, then his legs.

You half expect him to keep stroking himself as you bend down, rubbing at his thick muscled thighs, but he releases himself and settles his hands at his sides, stretching his neck out and enjoying the feel of your hands on him.

When you stand he’s sighing as though he’d managed to get some rest in that time, turning back to you.

“I suppose it’s your turn then?”

He brings you back under the shower head, turning you around to face the spray head on and settling his hands on your hips as he speaks low into your ear. “You’ll have to handle washing your face. I don’t think I’m quite delicate enough for that.”

You lean back against his chest, sighing at the sound of his voice in your ear. “Ryomen The King Sukuna, underestimating himself? What have I done to you?”

“What have you done, indeed.” He presses his hips forward, letting you feel his hardness against your ass, though your attention is quickly drawn to the face wash he reaches around you to place in your hand.

You take it, squeezing it into your hand and busying yourself with removing what remains of your makeup as Sukuna runs his hands over your body, lathering you up. He makes no attempt to hide how he squeezes and gropes at every part of you that he touches, quite clearly feeling you up even as he cleans the sweat and cum and sticky residue of spilled drinks off of your naked body. He catches your nipples between thick knuckles, grips at your hips and stomach, presses kisses and gentle bites down your back and to your ass as he kneels to wash your legs, only incidentally cleaning you as he indulges himself before standing to finish his work.

With your face cleaned, you lie your head back onto his chest, enjoying this feel of his hands as he rinses you clean. Once he’s kneading at your thighs, slowly making his way closer and closer to your pussy, you can practically feel his gaze down at you. You know too well that he’s waiting for the smallest word or reaction to tell him to make his touch much more targeted - as if he hadn’t been working you up from the moment you’d stepped into the shower.

His fingers finally closing in to run over your pussy send a shudder through you, and when he brings a splash of water up to aid in cleaning your sticky folds you let out a laugh, head lolling against his chest. “Now you get to see how annoying it is to clean all of that cum out of me.”

His other arm comes down to hook under your knee, lifting your leg and keeping you spread for him to dip his fingers into your entrance as you melt into his embrace.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult.” He wriggles his fingers inside of you, chuckling as you gasp, “I can go much deeper than you.”

He’s right, pulling his long fingers out and rinsing them under the water before he’s sliding them back into your depths, loosening and coaxing out any cum that hadn’t made its way down your thighs through the night. He cleans you out thoroughly but, just as expected, doesn’t stop there - movements becoming a little faster and finding their rhythm until your pussy is making sticky sounds loud enough to be heard over the spray of the shower.

You reach back to tangle a hand into his hair as he starts kissing lightly along your neck, laughing when you start rocking your hips into the gentle thrusts of his fingers.

“What was that about being too sore?”

He laughs at whatever combination of a huff and a moan that you let out, and tenses enough to have his cock prodding at your ass in a reminder that he was never quite done. This time your huff is more pronounced, giving him a taste of the internal debate you were having between how much you wanted and how much you could handle, until you’re left compromising with your own body.

“Just the tip.”

The laugh this draws from him is much more lively. “Just the tip?”

“I mean it, Sukuna.”

“If that’s what you want…”

He pulls his fingers from your pussy, letting your leg down and turning you to face him before he’s lifting it again and settling it against his hip. He traps it in place with one arm as he reaches down to line himself up, wrapping the other arm around you to help you stay up even with as tired as your body was.

Even with just the promised hint of length from him, you feel that sting, but once he’s sliding that fat tip against your spongy walls the pleasure overcomes the pain. You press your face to his chest, squeezing at his pecs and kissing the wet skin as he groans above you.

The way he’s crouched to line up your disparate heights has his muscles tensing and flexing and as he angles himself perfectly you have to concentrate hard to enjoy the view of him instead of letting your eyes roll back with the heat prickling right down to your curling toes.

You tilt your head up until your lips meet his and his breath is hot in your mouth, words mingling with your soft moans, “Just the tip?”

You can’t blame him for pressing, with the way your pussy was practically sucking at his tip as you clench and squirm on it. Still, you know your limits, including which ones you are and aren’t willing to push past, so you nod and he pulls your arms from around his body to guide your hands to his ignored length. You wrap your hands around it, giving him something more to fuck into as your heat takes him in again and again. It earns you a string of appreciative moans that you return enthusiastically, licking into his mouth to have more of what you can from him.

“Fuck, Sukuna…” You pull back to press your head to his chest, eyes screwed shut as you rock your hips into his careful movements. You loosen your grip on his length, taking just a little bit more of him in as your thighs tense and shake.

With his hands too busy holding you up, he has to nuzzle at the top of your head to get your attention, insisting that he get to watch you cum on his cock. You know that it’s what he needs, tilting your head back and locking eyes with him as he brings his mouth to yours, drinking in your moans and meeting them with low groans as he waits for that telltale clenching on his tip.

He isn’t waiting long as you let go of his cock, crying out into his mouth as you grip at his ass and pull him all the way into your heat, until your hips are flush against his. It takes him by surprise and flings him towards his end, as he lets out a broken moan, pressing deep into you as your pussy clenches and milks his cock of all he has left to give. He stills his hips as you rock against him, riding out the last of your orgasm in his arms, until his cum is sliding out around him and spattering onto the tile below while he kisses at your slackened jaw.

Your arms find their way back around his torso as you pull yourself to his chest yet again, panting against his wet skin as you shudder softly. He pulls out slowly, letting your leg down but keeping your tired body held firmly to him.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Hm?” He cranes his neck to look at your face, pressed so closely to him that only half of it is left visible, “You’ve got a new mess to clean now.”

“Nuh uh… tomorrow…”

While he’s technically right, and while it technically already is tomorrow, your orgasm has taken everything you had left and you know you’re veering ever so close to actually passing out if you don’t lie down soon.

Sukuna doesn’t need convincing to have his cum left inside of you, though, and he reaches behind you to turn off the shower. You feel yourself drifting off already as he wraps a towel around you, and you’re out completely once he lifts you up and carries you to bed.

[piratefishmama]

Fake It 'till You Make It | Part 1

The phone was ringing. It was eight in the morning, on a Sunday, and the phone was ringing. Eddie rolled over, pushing his face into his pillow in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he’d suffocate in the sweet embrace of his misshapen, well-loved pillow before whoever dared to call at such an ungodly hour, decided to give up.

No dice. However his uncle did seem to be answering it for him, bless that man, bless each and every one of his gray hairs.

“Eddie, up an at em, son! S’fer you!” Damn him. Damn him and all his gray hairs.

“Nggghhhh!!!!” Was his very coherent response

“It’s one of those kids’a yours!” Kids? He had kids? Oh shit he had kids, right. kids who should know better than to call at EIGHT. AM. AM. THE MORNING.

ON A SUNDAY.

Just inconsiderate really. He’d spent the majority of the previous night convincing the Gillespie’s that maybe their daughter didn’t actually need to get onto the endless carousel that was the dating scene.

Convincing them that maybe the dating pool was so batshit insane that it was for the best that she remain perfectly single for a little while longer. That maybe being single wasn’t nearly as bad as being with whatever the fuck Eddie Munson was.

Eddie had spent the entire evening referring to her father by his first name as it visibly pissed him off, called his daughter ‘sweet cheeks’ and slapped her ass as she left the room one too many times (any time more than zero times was too many times), offered her mother a joint to chill the fuck out, talked about his band incessantly, he’d gone all out on the ‘disrespectful sack of shit’ angle until he’d been forbidden to date their daughter.

Then listened with glee outside the door while they declared she was forbidden from dating for as long as it took to shake her from her ‘bad boy’ phase. A job well done, she’d slipped him the fifty bucks she owed for the night through the back window, and he was on his way. Fifty bucks better off!

Megan wasn’t having a bad boy phase. Megan was a lesbian waiting for the perfect opportunity to get the fuck out of Hawkins. She just… couldn’t handle her parents constantly asking about her dating life. Or her lack of a dating life.

She was beautiful, the picture of stereotypical femininity, they had no idea why their daughter wasn’t snagging one of the rich Loch Nora guys like a Harrington, or a Johnson, or even one of the B grade rich guys like Hagan, or Peters.

She was too busy with a Holloway.

Then the following hours before he’d eventually passed out, he’d been slowly working through memorizing the chorus tabs of an Iron Maiden song he’d been meaning to learn for one of the covers used to bulk up Corroded Coffin’s sets. Jeff already had his parts down, Eddie had been lagging.

“M’not here!”

“Says it’s important!”

“Tell em I’m dead!”

There was a pause, and then his bedroom door was opening, and a cushion was thrown at his head, forcing him upright to shout his indignation to the world while his uncle stood there stern and unimpressed “Boy get your backside up an talk to y’damn friends.”

“Nghhh, fine.” He was up anyway. The phone ringing had woken him up. It’d take a miracle to fall back into a full snooze now. He shoved his blankets aside, trudged past his uncle, and snagged the phone from where Wayne had left it on the little table by the window. “Whomever this may be, I’m nuking your stats next session for the unholy crime of waking me up before noon.”

“But I’m calling about a job”

“Ahh, Henderson. Might as well just tear up the sheet for that little gnome now, kid.”

“He’s a dwarf and— ngh whatever, I needed to roll a new character anyway. Listen! I have a job for you, if you want it, one of your weird little rent a guy gigs” not something he was proud to have let slip around the kids. It could get weird if they made assumptions!

But if it got him an extra buck or two without having to do much other than be an over the top version of himself, then what was the harm? It wasn’t like he was selling his body or anything, just his funhouse personality.

“…Go on.”

“Okay so… don’t freak out, but… it’s a guy. He’s cool though!! Like, really cool, super chill, no danger to you what so ever.” That was fine, his ‘dates’ were usually fake but that didn’t erase the very real danger of being perceived by two of an older less cool generation that talked. “He knows it’s all fake so it’s just acting—"

“And this guy’s parents? How cool are they?” It wasn’t just faking a date, it was faking it in front of parents. Parents who usually weren’t about to approve of him when it was a heterosexual relationship. A Homosexual one? He really didn’t want to have to go through the real risks of hate crimes with a teenager, but Dustin clearly wasn’t getting the danger aspect there.

“I don’t know, I don’t really know them, but he says he can explain everything if you give him a chance, he’s free today, he even said he’d buy you breakfast if you meet him early!”

“…And he knows I’m a him, not a her, right?”

“Yeah, I said he was cool! The gay thing isn’t a big deal to him.”

“I’m not—” it was instinctual, Dustin didn’t know what he was, maybe he’d heard rumours, but he didn’t outright know that his dungeon master was a queer. Probably for the best, as lovely as Claudia Henderson was, she was very susceptible to accepting the crowdsourced opinion on things. She didn’t have her sons need to question everything.

She’d probably pull him from every Hellfire meet ever if Dustin let it slip that the guy in charge was queer.

“I know you’re not, but it’s fake right? it’s not like you guys have to do anything other than claim to be dating, right?” True… he never actually did anything with his ‘dates’. Usually just telling the parents they were dating was enough of a shock to the system to hide the lack of proof. The most he’d ever done was slap an ass here and there, maybe wrap an arm around a waist or two.

That was enough for the ‘traditional’ close minded Parents of Hawkins.

“…Fine, I’ll hear the guy out, but I’m only hearing him out alright! I’ll decide on whether or not I wanna take this job only after he explains, got it?”

“Got it!!”

“Alright, tell him to meet me at Benny’s in twenty.” Another quick confirmation and Eddie was hanging up the phone. so much for going back to sleep but at least he’d get a lovely breakfast out of it.

Part 3 

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

We all know how Jake obviously just loves to watch…

You’re sitting in Jake’s lap, legs on either side of his, to keep you spread apart for him.

His fingers tease at your inner thighs, drawing shapers and patterns, smirking in amusement as the muscles twitch and quiver under his light touches.

“Jake, please…” you whimper, aching and throbbing just to have his fingers inside you, or stroking over your clit.

He complies finally with a low chuckle, bringing his fingers to your dripping heat.

“Aww, is that better now, sweet girl?” Jake coos, lust blown and dark eye, tracking your every move. “You have my fingers on your pretty pussy and suddenly everything is all okay? Needy girl.”

“Yes god, fuck, i love your fingers.” You clench around nothing, eyes fluttering closed as pleasure gradually starts to spread through your whole body.

“I know you do, baby,” Jake says, replacing his fingers with his thumb as he slips two fingers down to your entrance.

He sinks them into you with no hesitation, smiling proudly at the unholy noise it pulls from your lungs.

Your head falls back, arms coming up to grip at his shoulders.

“Open you eyes and look at me, pretty girl,” Jake commands, bringing his free hand up to stroke his knuckles along your cheek.

You bring your head back down and attempt to do what he’s just asked, eyes fluttering slightly as you force them open against your body’s will to keep them closed.

“Good girl,” he praises. “There’s my beautiful angel. So pretty.”

“Jake, I- I need more,” you tell him, rocking your hips into his hand. “Please, Jakey.”

“Shhh, I’m gonna give it to you.” It’s a promise, falling off his lips like honey. His fingers sink deeper into you.

They curl up into that sweet spot, making your mouth drop open in a moan that bounces around Jake’s living room.

“You like it right there?” Jake questions smugly, adding a little more pressure up into that spot.

“Fuck, oh fuck-“ You curse, fighting to stay upright and look at him as the heat in your lower stomach starts to build.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl, or I’ll stop.” Jake threatens, knowing good and well you won’t be able to hold yourself up for very much longer.

“Don’t stop, Jake,” you plead with him desperately, mouth dropped open in open-mouth whimpers and moans, of which are rapidly growing louder. “Don’t stop, pleaseee…”

You force yourself to look him in the eyes once again. His head is tilted back just slightly, watching you fall apart in his lap with a pleased and cocky expression.

It only drives you closer, the cocky smirk and narrowed eyes; watching you ever so intently.

Curling his fingers back up into your sweet spot, he flashes you a wicked grin before shaking them rapidly into it, just like he does to draw vibrato out of his guitar.

Your mouth falls open, and had your eyes not rolled back into your head, you may have seen Jake’s mouth fall open, mocking the faces you’re making.

You collapse into him, head falling against his shoulder. Your face buries into the crook of his neck immediately, but Jake isn’t having it.

“Oh, poor thing,” Jake taunts with faux pity, sliding his hand in between his shoulder and your face, grabbing your jaw and forcing you back up. “Didn’t I tell you I would stop if you don’t look at me?”

He holds you up by your face, just far back enough to keep eye contact with you.

“Are you close?” He asks, voice low and smooth, eyebrows raised as he watches you frantically nod your response.

Trying to form words is far beyond you at this point. Too far gone in the ecstasy of Jake’s fingers to process anything, let alone create a coherent sentence.

“Yeah?” Jake’s fingers are playing you just like his guitar, with speed and precision that’s leaving your head spinning, numbing the limbs of your body and pouring gas into the fire burning in the depths of your body.

“Look right at me, pretty. Right at me and I’ll let you cum.”

“Jake!” You sob through heavy breaths, choking on a moan as his hand slides down to your throat.

Your eyes lock with Jake’s, your need for orgasm helping you to do as Jake says.

His fingers practically vibrate inside you again as his thumb works over your clit, sending you plummeting into an earth shattering orgasm.

Jake watches you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly parted as he drinks in the sight of you coming undone in his lap. He emits a low hum, as your release drips down his fingers and begins to puddle in the palm of his hand.

Once you’ve come down, he releases his grip around your throat and withdraws his fingers from you.

“So good, baby.” Jake presses a kiss to your temple as you fall against his chest.

“Here…” He holds his soaked hand up and you automatically know what he wants.

You take his wrist in your hand, licking yourself from his fingertips. He stops you as your tongue starts to travel to his palm.

“Ah-“ He pulls his hand away quickly, bringing it to his own mouth and you giggle softly at his sudden actions.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t want a taste?”

[stardewvalleybut-i-draw]

Humming a tune (writing)

Evelyn notices the farmers both seem to sometimes hum to themselves SO she decides to approach the male farmer and ask what tune he's humming in order to get to know him better.

Word count: 1,378 words (so medium I guess)

Characters: Evelyn and Mask Farmer.

Vibe: nice and wholesome moments :) I'm not really experienced in writing but I'll do my best to make it coherent, enjoy! :D and with pictures!

A lovely spring and sunny day welcomed the valley. Evelyn tends to the town square flowers, putting care and attention to each one.

It's the town's flowers after all. The people in the valley need to be represented properly!

It was nice to be out in the center of the town square on days like this. It allowed her to greet anyone who went through, give them a big warm smile, and catch up about what was happening that day. It was also nice to be able to bathe in the sun's warmth and reminisce on the past and how the valley had changed over the years. In came the male farmer with focused eyes, dedicated to a goal in his mind, ignoring everything around him. She could tell he was passing even with her bad vision by the sound of his fast and heavy footsteps, always in a rush. Both the farmers often cross here in the mornings, although Evelyn really only saw the sister out. Both would look at the bulletin board outside of Pierre's shop, check the calendars, and go on with their daily routine but only she would talk to Evelyn and the other townspeople. "Perhaps he's shy," Evelyn thought seeing him walk to the Help Wanted board. He greeted her once when they both first arrived in Pelican Town and he hasn't talked to her since then...or anyone besides for transactional reasons it seemed. Evelyn's face grew sad at the thought. The poor boy was ignored by everyone or treated as an anomaly to be feared and avoided. It didn't seem to bother the farmer but her heart could not let it be. "The flowers can be tended later, it was about time someone bothered to try and have a nice conversation with him" Evelyn thought. She began to walk towards the farmer who was still reading the Help Wanted note and noticed he was humming something. Thinking about it now, the farmers both tend to hum a tune to themselves. It's almost never the same song and seems to change throughout the seasons. "Excuse me, dear" she asked beside the farmer "May I ask what tune you are humming?"

The Farmer jolts in shock and turns towards her. "Oh I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to startle you." Evelyn says apologetically "I was just curious about the songs you hum to yourself, they sound very nice, was it a band back in the city?" He was really expecting anyone to talk to him today so Evelyn's Interruption took him back a bit. He also had a lot to do but her soft genuine smile guilt tripped him to take the time to answer her. "The song doesn't exist." The farmer stated bluntly "Oh"

Not the answer Evelyn was expecting. She had sworn she heard both the farmers hum the same tune.

Very curious she continued "So did you come up with the tune?" "No" the Farmer responds "I hear them In my head." Evelyn's confused expression let him know it made no sense to her but he couldn't really find another way to explain it besides being direct and honest. Maybe he should have lied, he thought. His sister did all the time to explain weird things like this but her genuine curiosity stopped him from lying to her face. Could he really lie to sweet little granny Evelyn? Evelyn saw the farmer's face slightly turn from her in shame. She didn't really understand the answer but she didn't want him to feel ashamed of his response so she softly said "It's ok. I don't need to understand it, do you like the songs? The farmer nods.

"Oh, that's nice to hear, I assume the song changes through the season? do you hear it all the time?" "Yeah..." he responds. She could tell the Farmer was starting to get uncomfortable with her questions so she tried to ease his nerves. "You know...your grandpa used to do the same thing too" The farmer looks at her in surprise "It's true!" she exclaims Evelyn begins to walk to the town flowers gesturing for the farmer to follow. The farmer does so.

"When he used to run the farm, he would whistle songs to himself while he worked" Evelyn reminisced. "Your grandpa used to say he would hear the valley singing to him, he would call it a superpower! Not many of us understood what he meant but by the sounds of it, I guess it was passed down to you"

The farmer smiles and chuckles at the idea. Their Grandpa did used to whistle a lot on the farm. It was only a faint memory since both he and his sister were so young when they used to visit. In a sense, the valley was singing to them.

"If it's not too much, could you hum a bit of the song you hear?" she asked The farmer paused for a second. He looked slightly at the sky and listened. He did his best to match the tune but it was difficult when there was more than one instrument to hum in his head.

Evelyn listened internally and cheered for the farmer once he had stopped. She could tell he was embarrassed by it but genuinely flattered. "You have a very lovely voice dear, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, oh!-" she interrupted herself. "I heard there was a band in town, maybe you should join, I think you would make a lovely addition!" He knew she was talking about Sam's band but he hadn't really talked to the guy... or anyone in that band. Sometimes he saw Abigail up in the mountains or Sebastian taking a smoke break but never really paid them any attention. He never needed to. Evelyn begins to tend to the flowers as she speaks. "You don't need to if you don't want to. I can tell you don't like to talk much, I don't want to pressure you."

She pauses.

"but I can tell you like to listen" The farmer had never really thought about it that way before... but when you don't say much, the only other choice is to listen to the world around you. "I know not many of us can understand you and I've noticed others treat you differently because of that" Evelyn gently places her hands on top of the farmer's hand. "-but I don't want you to feel like you're not part of the town. You will always be welcomed here...no matter how odd you are"

The farmer softly smiled to Evelyn. "Well," Evelyn exclaimed. "I don't want to hold your day up much longer but If you ever want to talk more about your grandpa or just to hear an old lady ramble about the past, I'm always here for you" The farmer is quiet for a second, taking in her words. "Thank you." He says. "Ohhh, no need to thank me, I haven't done anything, sweetie" She replied but the farmer quickly responded. "You did." Evelyn curiously looked at him confused. "You talked to me."

Evelin's heart was touched beyond words as the farmer leaned down to hug her. She squeezed as hard as her weak arms would allow and stayed there for as long as he needed. But the farmer quickly got up, smiled, and began to walk to the mines. They waved each other goodbye and moved on with their days. The warm moment being over just like that. As the farmer walked up the mountain he began to think. It was only a small moment. It had never really bothered him that the town viewed him as a cryptid. He often reveled in being odd, weird, and feared. He didn't have much of an interest in getting to know anyone. But Granny Evelyn had warmed his heart. Maybe he didn't need to be so cold to everyone. Maybe he should stop by and chat before heading to the mines. It's not like the caves are going anywhere. Maybe... ...he'll stop by and get some cookies :)

[allysunny]

yay, so happy to hear that you have your requests open now!

may i please request a miguel x f!reader fic in which the reader is a queen and miguel is her personal knight. they’re madly in love but must keep their forbidden relationship under wraps because of obvious class differences and reader’s marriage to the king. to make matters worse, reader finds out that she’s carrying miguel’s child 🫣

Royal Secret | Knight Miguel O'Hara x Queen Fem!Reader

Words: 7.5k

Warnings: Infidelity (reader is having an affair), unexpected pregnancy, misogynistic husband and remarks, some angst, some feels, Miguel is absolutely whipped for you. Do tell if I forgot anything!

A/N: Hello!!! Gosh, it's been a while since I've written anything! I've missed this so much :) So, I was really excited when I got this request, because I myself am a huge fan of Royal AUs, especially those with knights, hehehe. It also felt like a huge responsibility because omg a request like this is a serious thing.

I'm not sure I like how it turned out - I've been writing a lot for uni, and it took me a while to get into the writing mindset, but once I got it, I just kept going. I'm not entirely sure I'm satisfied with it - I kept worrying and worrying that it wasn't good enough. But I hope that you will like it and that it will live up to your expectations! :)

Council meetings were boring. This you knew and stressed to mainly anyone in your inner circle.

Mostly because your husband the King would not allow a single peep from you. In his eyes, your opinion was as worthless as a commoner’s.

No, even worse. A commoner, should he be a man, would probably be allowed more insight on any royal matters than you. All your husband wanted from you during these council meetings was your silent presence. For him, having you sit pretty and quiet by his side was a sign of strength. A sign that your marriage was successful, that you were a Queen loyal to her King, that you’d be always beside him.

For you, it meant you’d lose an entire morning (and sometimes half of an afternoon) listening to your husband as he blabbed away on topics such as economics and politics.

You scoffed whenever one of his suggestions were met with the approving nods and cheers of other noblemen and councillors. What they did not know, was that every day before retiring to your chambers, you would discuss with him the topics mentioned during these meetings and give him your own two cents on the matter, away from prying eyes. He’d laugh at you and claim you too pretty to form a coherent thought (although to him, it was always amusing to see you try), telling you to leave the important conversations for the big, strong men.

In his council chambers, he would steal your input, and gain the admiration of everyone around him. It wasn’t exactly rewarding, but at least you were helping your kingdom, even if indirectly. Even if you did not get any recognition from it. Even if your husband’s councillors thought of you only as a pretty face and nothing else.

It was all for the good of the kingdom.

The good of the kingdom was your priority, now and always.

“I thank you, gentlemen, for your presence today.” Your husband’s voice boomed through the room, and he stood up, the rest of the council following right after. You could count those who truly cared about the wellbeing and prosperity of Arakhneva with your fingers. Most of them were here solely for the status or perks of being close to the King. Never mind them – no matter how much you advised your husband to keep those conniving opportunists away, but as always, he refused to listen.

“This meeting is over. You are dismissed.” Having said this, the men curtsied at him, acknowledged you with a solemn nod, and made their way towards the exit. Once they were all gone, you stood up, doing the best you could to hide the way you were stretching. Those four hours spent sitting alongside him left your body sore. Unable to slouch, doze off, or look anything short of perfect.

“The meeting seems to have gone according to plan.” Your husband said, not sparing you a single look.

“Indeed, it has.” You didn’t particularly look forward to small talk with this man. Although you two shared the same name and similar titles, you had no affection for him whatsoever. In fact, as often as you could, you made up excuses not to share a bed with him. Sometimes you were sick. For more than half of the month, you had “lady troubles” (it’s not like your doctors know any better. And it’s not like you ever allowed them to look at you. They had only your word to act upon). Sometimes you were lucky and managed to tire him out before it was nighttime, and he felt too exhausted to even propose such a thing. But to everyone else, you were avidly trying to conceive an heir for the kingdom. Avidly.

“I am to go hunting this afternoon with the Royal Council. It is stag season, and William believes we can intercept a particularly big herd if we leave in just about two hours.” Of course. Lord William, your husband’s closest advisor and confidante, would be a part of this. Not that you minded. Thanks to William and all he did to keep your husband occupied; you had more time for yourself than you could possibly want.

“Last time you promised you would not kill the young ones,” you told him, smoothing your dress. Lilac lace and white tule, it was one of the pieces you were most fond of. You thought perhaps wearing it would make you feel better, but so far, you had no such luck. You still felt miserable.

“Did I?” He asked, checking his appearance in the mirror. Of course, your husband, ever the vain man. He was good-looking, that’s for sure. Tall, with a piercing gaze, always dressed in the finest of cloths, walking with the confidence of one hundred kings. But it didn’t do any good if he was a despicable human being.

“You did.” You walked towards him, holding your hands tightly. “Please, don’t do it. Let them live – it’s not like they can feed you, they’re just babies.”

“Your emotions will be your downfall, woman.” He said, not once taking his eyes off his reflection. “Do not expect me to dine with you – we are to return late.”

Having said this, he left the room.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. The golden jewelled crown was heavy on your head, and you felt tired. You loved your kingdom, you truly did. But sacrificing your life to marry a man you have no affection for was taking a toll on you.

Sighing, you walked through the walls of the Arakhnevian castle. A beautiful construction, really, with tall towers and plenty of windows that allowed for the most beautiful view in the country. The inside of the castle was just as beautiful. Your husband demanded only the best, so it was covered in expensive carpets and gleaming chandeliers, filled with only the best furniture and adornments. And while it was stunning and filled to the brim with every kind of things, it still felt empty.

You opened the door to your chambers and quickly asked your maids for some space. You wanted some peace and quiet, not to deal with anyone, not to be Queen of Arakhneva, to simply be you, with no responsibilities.

After a few moments of resting by your divan, you heard a knock on the door.

“I wish to be alone.” You said it loud enough for the other person to hear, but that didn’t stop them from opening it just a tiny bit and replying. 

“Is everything alright, Your Majesty?”

Oh.

You smiled instantly upon hearing that voice – his voice.

The voice of the man that held your heart in his hands, the voice of the only man you truly loved, the one who made you smile and made you feel loved and cherished and adored, the one who treated you like you truly mattered.

Sir Miguel O’Hara.

He’d been assigned as your knight when you married your husband, many days ago.

His job was to protect you, make sure you were safe and sound. And while being a Queen was a hard job, being a lonely Queen was even worse. You had ladies in waiting as would be expected – but they all seemed rather fake. Just like your husband’s advisors, these women were merely here for the power and the status. None of them cared about you or your life. Nevertheless, they praised you. Your wardrobe. Your gardens. Your decorating skills. All you did was marvellous to them. This is, of course, if they got anything in return from it.

The only true friendships you’d ever found in the castle was Lady Gwen, a rather young but extremely intelligent and mature lady who’d warmed up to you and proven to be the greatest companion you could ever ask for. She was the only one who knew about your secret affair and kept that secret with her life.

Yes, she was quite younger than you. Some at court would dare to call her a child whenever you were absent. More than once had you needed to berate all of them for trying to put her down. Your castle was no place for petty gossip, especially when the focus of it was a hardworking girl who’d never done anything wrong.

Her father was a wealthy Duke, and he’d sent his only daughter into the Royal Castle, in hopes of making a noble, marriageable lady out of her. You’d hijacked his plans and were making sure young Lady Gwen was simply enjoying her life as a carefree royal. Heavens knew she’d need to.

The creaking of your voice brought you back from your thoughts.

“Your Majesty?” Sir Miguel asked, voice low. Ever the gentleman, he did not dare peek inside, in fear of trespassing your boundaries and privacy. He needn’t be afraid – he’d stolen your heart long ago. There was no such thing as privacy; at least not when it came to him.

You looked in the direction of the door, breath quickening. It had been a few days since you’d last seen Miguel. He’d been too busy. Being the kingdom’s most prestigious knight had both its perks and downsides. Being dragged away on missions was one of them.

Many often wondered why Sir Miguel was your personal knight. He was tall and strong, with broad shoulders and an even broader back, with eyes so deep you found it hard not to get lost in them, with courage and nerves of steel. Why would such a man be kept in the castle, when he could be out there protecting his kingdom?

In truth, he was.

Your life used to be very different. Your husband used to love you. Used to. Shortly after your wedding, he assigned the kingdom’s best knight to guard you. In his opinion, no expense was too big to keep you safe. So, Sir Miguel was taken out of the battlefield, and placed by your bed chamber’s door.

(Later you found out your husband’s kindness was an elaborate ruse to wed you. You were heartbroken, having fallen for a man that held no respect or desire for you.)

It was awkward at first. You did not know Miguel, and yet he was tasked with taking you everywhere, ensuring that you were alright, standing by your side 24/7. But soon you found him to be an amazing companion and your biggest confidante. You’d tell him about everything. Your childhood, your life in court, your marriage. As soon as the first signs of indifference from your husband started to show, you were next to Miguel, asking him for help and advice.

You’d cry in his arms, telling him how your husband ignored you, choosing to tend to administrational matters instead of you, and how lonely you felt.

To say Miguel was pissed was an understatement.

In his eyes, you were the most gracious woman that had ever walked the planet, the closest thing there had ever been to an angel. Your husband was a foolish man if he couldn’t realise the treasure he held.

So, he made sure to prove to you just how precious you were.

It started out with simple gestures.

One time, during a stroll in the gardens, you tripped on a loose rock. For the rest of the day, Miguel asked you to hold on to his arm, and you did so, happy to be close to him.

When you were sick, Miguel would rush to you, spending the day by your bedside, feeding you spoonful after spoonful of soup, and aiding you while you drank warm tea. He’d read to you until you were sound asleep and placed a soft palm on your forehead to check your temperature.

Soon, you found yourself drawn to him more and more.

The attraction wasn’t merely physical – he was a handsome man, yes, and plenty of Lords and Dukes had tried to pair him off with their daughters – but emotional. Miguel understood you, as you understood him. You were the only person he’d ever talked to about his childhood and life. You were the only one who knew his deepest, darkest secrets.

So, it wasn’t a surprise that one cold December right, right after your husband had abandoned you for a special Christmas hunt, you found yourself in Miguel’s arms, kissing him senseless. The fact that your husband had chosen something else over you on a very special night just reassured you of your choice. Your husband did not love you. Sir Miguel, on the other hand, did. Very much.

He touched you as if you were made of glass, pressing feather-like kisses on your cheeks and the column of your neck, whispering gentle promises of everlasting love and affection. He held you close when it snowed, pressing your warm body against his, as he ran his fingers up and down your back, marvelling at the softness of your skin. When you turned to ask him what was on his mind, his breath was stolen.

Curious moonlight was bathing you in a soft glow, making you appear even more ethereal.

Miguel hugged you tight and promised to love you forever. You returned his promise.

It was hard keeping your affair a secret. You loved him deeply and always wanted him by your side. But you’d made a promise before God, to love and cherish your husband. Many times you prayed for forgiveness, as the man that appeared in your dreams and rested in between your sheets was not your King. You had to keep everything under wraps. Miguel was a knight and stood much lower than you in the social hierarchy – a hierarchy you hated. To you, he stood at the very top, as the holder of your heart and love.

“Did anyone see you come in?” You asked in a low voice, looking behind your lover.

He shook his head but decided to check once more. One could not be too careful, and he’d rather face the wraths of hell than to have you be the centre of a scandal. Miguel loved you far too much for that. Sure, he adored you and worshipped you more than anything. All he wanted was to sing ballads in your honour, scream from the top of the highest mountains that he was yours, let everyone know his heart belonged to you. But if he had to love you in secret, so be it.

“May I?” He asked, walking in, and closing the door behind him after you gave him permission. As soon as the door was closed, he rushed to your side, wrapping you in a tight embrace. “My Queen…” He whispered against your hair, hands caressing the small of your back to comfort you.

You said nothing, preferring to simply remain in his arms. No one knew this, but that’s where you felt safer, more at ease. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent. Miguel smelled of forest and firewood, and nothing felt more at home than his embrace.

He understood of course and did not say anything. He tightened his hold around you, swiftly picking you up in his arms and making his way towards your divan. He sat down and adjusted so you could rest comfortably against his chest. He wouldn’t pressure you nor push you. You’d talk whenever you wanted to.

After a few moments of listening to his heartbeat, you looked up, tracing the lines of his face, his strong jawline and chin, and the soft plushiness of his lips.

“I missed you.” You said, craning your head up to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “The meeting today was dreadful. I hate it whenever he drags me along. I’m just an accessory to him. Nothing more.”

Miguel’s gaze darkened. He hated your husband. The way he treated you was unspeakable – if you were his wife, Miguel would cherish you more than anything. He already did, although with no such title. But you knew it. You knew how he felt for you, and that was enough.

“He’s blind. You know it.” Miguel replied, tracing gentle patterns on your back. “He is blind and a fool. If he were anything but, he wouldn’t treat you like a decoration. He doesn’t deserve you. Cielos, my love, if I could, I’d – “

“You’d nothing.” You silenced him with a kiss. “There is nothing you can do. He is my husband. And he is the King. I may not care for him, but he still holds our lives in the palm of his hand. One wrong move and something could happen to you. I will not have that.”

He furrowed his brow. By God, he looked so attractive. Especially like this, all confused. You liked to see him like this. Your Miguel looked far too sure and confident all the time. It was nice to have the upper hand occasionally.

“But you are miserable. How can I live with the knowledge that my beloved is miserable?” He brushed his lips across your forehead.

“I could never be miserable with you by my side. It is you that makes me happy. It is you I love. As long as I have you, I need nothing else.”

Miguel smiled and leaned towards you, dark locks of hair falling on his forehead. He kissed you softly and his hands slowly shifted to your hips. A silent request.

“He won’t be here until late. The council is going on a hunt. He told me so.” You said breathlessly, looking up into that fiery gaze of his. You dropped your hands into his chest and felt your cheeks getting warmer as his hands slowly travelled down your back and into your hips.

“Is that so?” He toyed with the ribbons in your dress, smiling when they came undone. “You look breathtaking. You know I love this dress, don’t you?” You nodded, too entranced by him to form a coherent sentence, “Lilacs would cry in shame of being compared to you, the prettiest flower of them all.”

“Well, since that fool of a man won’t be here for a while…” Miguel got up, holding you tightly against his chest. His chestplate was cold, but you knew his body to be scalding hot once it pressed against yours. He carefully placed you down on your bed, stepping backwards so he could remove his armour and place his sword on the divan. “How about we make the most of that time? I’d like to show you just how much I love and cherish you.”

You smiled and nodded.

“I’d like that very much.”

Once his armour was on the ground, he made his way next to you, bringing your lips together in a dizzying kiss. You smiled against his lips and ran a hand through his hair. No matter what, your knight in shining armour would always make you feel better.

Describing this last couple of weeks as you being “sick” hardly does it any justice.

In fact, you’d been through hell lately.

You would feel sick at the most abnormal of times. More than once did you have to excuse yourself from those dreadful meetings to rush to the nearest chamber pot to empty the contents of your stomach. Most of the food that was served to you in the morning and at night had you covering your nose and begging for some fresh air.

Just the mere action of strolling along the gardens had you exhausted, and you had to sit down often, fanning yourself. Your ladies in waiting were worried (or at least did a very good job of pretending so), asking you every five seconds if you were alright, and keeping you hydrated with refreshments such as fresh lemonade or warm tea.

Never in a million years would you suspect what was happening.

In your head, it wouldn’t be possible to get pregnant. You’d laid with your husband perhaps a dozen times when your marriage begun – you were in love and committed, and it felt natural. The kingdom needed an heir. But as time went on and he started neglecting you, you neglected your heir-bearing duties.

That’s why such an idea was so farfetched.

“Pregnancy” connoted the emergence of an heir, and expectation that bore no relevance to your present circumstances.

(That’s not to say you did not know how a pregnancy worked. You did. It was just that, in the labyrinth of royal protocol and expectations, such a turn had long been entwined with the prospect of securing an heir. It completely slipped your mind that the handsome knight who woke up next to you most mornings could be the cause of such a thing.)

Your husband had noticed it too. But he was far too detached to investigate it, and simply avoided you once you turned green with the smell of lunch.

“Make sure not to get any of the carpets dirty. They were awfully expensive.” He’d speak. Yes, you knew. You acquired them.

For a while, you decided to ignore it. You went about your normal day, completing each of your tasks – no matter how unimportant they seemed. Overseeing the gardens, checking in with the castle’s staff and assuring all was in order, organising and overviewing supplies and food for the next few months. You sat in the library and busied yourself with some books, and visited the kitchens in order to supervise the lunch that was being served to every servant and knight.

Miguel had abandoned you for the day – he was supervising the training of the younger knights, teaching them the way of the profession. You didn’t want him to be inside of the castle all the time, it would do him good to go outside and train the younger squires.

When you made your way towards the training grounds to ensure all was well with the trainees, you were rewarded with the glorious sight of your beloved, standing in the middle of a makeshift arena, sword in hand. He’d foregone a shirt, and your heart leaped at the way he fought knight after knight, proving once more to be the most talented of them all.

When the rest of the knights spotted their Queen, they stood straighter, taller, and bowed before you. Miguel looked at you and a smile graced his lips. His beautiful Queen had come to see him.

Although you’d tried not to make a scene or draw any suspicion towards you, you couldn’t help but walk down the stairs and approach the training men.

“Your Majesty.” They curtsied once more before you, placing a hand on top of their hearts.

“To what do we owe such honour?” Miguel asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

He looked so handsome, droplets of water clinging to his hair, beads of sweat falling down his tan skin, the soft rise and fall of his chest, signalling he was out of breath.

“Sir O’Hara, may I have a word with you? The king has sent a message to you.”

It was a lousy lie, but you needed to get your hands on him.

He signalled to someone to keep the training going, grabbed a nearby rag (possibly a makeshift towel), and gestured towards the path ahead.

“After you, Your Majesty.”

You smiled and led him to a secluded area of the training grounds, a small backroom, really, where the two of you could be alone. You looked around once, twice, and a third time before reassuring yourself that you two were alone, and then turned to kiss him.

Miguel understood immediately. He held you softly as not to crumple your dress and get you all sweaty – you had a secret to keep – but kissed you with the desperation of a man who hadn’t seen his beloved in a whole eternity.

His lips moved along yours tenderly, sending shivers down your spine, and his hand was quick to cup your cheek. He tried pushing away for some air, but you followed him and placed one last kiss on his lips.

“Is everything alright?” He asked you, thumb caressing your cheek.

“Not really. Today’s been terribly boring, and I think I must be coming down with something.” You confessed with a sigh. Miguel placed his lips to your forehead and hummed.

“You don’t seem to have a fever. But if you’re ill, perhaps you shouldn’t be here. It’s rather chilly outside, and you brought no shawl to protect you from the cold.” His tone was firm but caring – truthfully, all he wanted, was to keep you safe. “You should go back inside.”

“Do you wish to see mee off that quickly, Sir O’Hara?” You teased, putting on a faux betrayed look on your face. “I thought I was the woman of your heart.”

“And you are,” he punctuated his statement with a kiss to your lips, tongue pushing past yours to explore your mouth, the way he knew made your breath quicken and cheeks warm. “But I would hate for my beloved to get ill. Especially when I could’ve avoided it. Besides, I’m sure he wouldn’t like it if you were sick. He’d find a way to blame it all on you and accuse you of not being a worthy wife.” These last words were spit with a venom solely reserved for your husband.

But you knew he was right. It would do you no good to get sick.

 You nodded and kissed his jaw tenderly.

“You should get back to your training.”

Like he always did, Miguel dropped down on one knee, bringing your hands to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly, looking up at you with a look of pure adoration.

“My Queen,” he mumbled, before walking away.

You had to remain hidden for a few moments, so you could catch your breath and steady your heart before turning around and returning to the castle.

You were making your third round around the castle, trying to abstain from the terrible fatigue and mood swings that had haunted you throughout the day, when a shy maid approached you in the hall, curtsying before you.

“Your Majesty,” she said, her eyes fixated on her feet, “His Majesty the King has asked to see you… He is in the council room and says it is important.”

It had to be. Rarely did your husband talk to the servants. He usually asked his council to carry on his tasks for him, arguing that speaking to a servant would lower his status as a man. What a foolish thing to think, especially when his workers nearly broke their backs to keep him happy and satisfied, cooking his meals, keeping him warm and safe.

What an ungrateful man.

You thanked the maid and walked towards the council room, where your husband was sitting at the head of a table, studying maps of his lands.

“Good, you were quick.” He said, not even daring to look up from the pieces of paper.

“You called for me.”

“Yes, I did.” Your husband finally spared you a glance. He looked at your figure, his eyes trailing the top of your head and observing your whole body. You could not make out what he was thinking, and to be frank, you didn’t want to. So, you stood there, awaiting further instructions. “I have just been informed the Thidorian King will be travelling to Arakhneva late this month. He will be bringing his wife and staying for a couple of weeks. This could be the chance to form a powerful alliance with a strong kingdom.”

You nodded as you took his information in. The Thidorian king was strong and prosperous, and while it wasn’t as prestigious nor as rich as Arakhneva, it was still noble. Forming an alliance with them was sure to be advantageous for both kingdoms.

“I am entrusting you with all preparations for their arrival. You must see that they are comfortable at all times. A feast shall be organized in their honour – I want no expense spared. Do you understand me, woman?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, my king. I shall see that all goes smoothly. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?” You asked, eager to get away from that abominable room.

Your husband remained silent for a few seconds. Then, he placed both of his hands on top of the table and looked at you with a different kind of look. An earnest look, one you hadn’t seen in him in a long, long time.

“The Thidorian Queen is expecting a child.” His voice was almost emotionless, but you could make out the single hint of vulnerability in it. He was your husband, after all. You knew him. “It would be a shame if a smaller kingdom produced an heir to the throne first. It is your duty to bear an heir to Arakhneva, do not forget. I will visit you tonight. That is all.”

He dismissed you with a wave of a hand, and you all but fled the room.

The hearty lunch you’d eaten earlier threatened to come out – you almost ran to your chambers, locking yourself inside.

Once you were sure you were alone, you puked inside a chamber pot, tears spilling from your eyes.

It was bad enough to be married to a man that felt nothing for you, but having to actually lay with him and betray the love of your life… You emptied your stomach once again, and sat on the floor, layers of silk spreading on the floor as you sat down and hugged your knees close to your chest.

There was no way you could refuse him.

Your husband was prideful – a smaller kingdom having an heir before him would destroy his ego. That night when he came to your room, you would have to lay bare before him, and let him touch you.

Despicable.

You sighed.

How would you tell Miguel? He knew you had to keep your marriage up, for appearances, for politics, for, well, everything. He knew you did not love your husband. But he hated it whenever he came to you at night. No one hated it more than you did, but Miguel was a close second.

You closed your eyes and tried to get a few moments of rest.

What a tiresome day it’d been.

How exhausted you’d been lately. It’s not like you did much. Sure, you had a horse and went out frequently into the woods to get some fresh air. You enjoyed gardening, and more than once had tried to learn how to fight with a sword (an activity that ended up with you and Miguel with your limbs entwined, in the horse stable.)

Shaking your head, you got up. You called for a maid and asked her to prepare a bath, since you wanted to change into some cleaner clothes. Perhaps it would help you relax.

Within a few minutes, a tub filled with lukewarm water was placed in your chambers, and you ordered everyone to leave. You needed some time to think.

It was interesting to think how your life had turned out.

As a child, you often dreamed of true love.

Now, you had that same true love you’d always desired, but not for the one you exchanged vows with. In fact, you loathed that same man, repulsed his words, and despised his touch. Being his Queen was a sacrifice you did solely for your kingdom. And what a big sacrifice it was.

You had to talk to Miguel before dinnertime. You needed to explain to him what was to happen and hear from his lips that he loved you and all would be well.

But once you leaned over to fetch your towel, a strange realisation hit you.

Your water was crystal clear.

The water you’d used to clean yourself was crystal clear.

What day was it?

You pressed your towel against your legs, furrowing your eyebrows.

You were supposed to bleed. Why weren’t you bleeding?

In fact, you were supposed to have bled a while ago.

How long had it been since your last monthly course?

You started to panic.

It could be some sort of mistake. You’d heard from other women that issues such as stress or even diet could affect a woman’s courses.

You quickly got out of the tub, wrapping yourself in your towel, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

You hadn’t bled.

In your head, you ran every possible option.

It surely wasn’t normal; you were taught a woman should bleed once a month once she became a lady.

The only reason it didn’t happen was…

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

The whole world seemed to be spinning.

How?

But you hadn’t laid with your husband. It was impossible, there was no way.

Miguel.

You puked whatever was rest of your lunch and breathing became hard.

You did the math in your head, recalling all the times you’d been with Miguel.

And no matter how much you did not want to believe it, it made sense.

All of it made sense. The odd mood swings, the fatigue, the nausea; you’d looked in the mirror and noticed your breasts had gotten more tender. It all added up.

And you had no idea how to deal with it.

You got dressed haphazardly, foregoing a corset and half of the layers necessary to look presentable, and called for one of your ladies – but not any lady.

“You asked to see me, Your Majesty?” Lady Gwen asked, opening your door ever so slightly. Once she took you in, her expression changed to one of confusion. “My Queen – is everything alright?” She asked.

“Gwendolyn, I need you to get Sir O’Hara. Right now.” Your tone was urgent, and she was quick to understand. She curtsied and left the room while you paced around, heart beating loudly in your chest.

What were you to do?

What would Miguel think?

What were you to do? You hadn’t shared a bed with your husband in a very long time. It would be impossible to convince him the… to convince him it was his.

Unless…

It felt like you had been waiting for an eternity. You heard the familiar knock that was characteristic of Miguel, and turned your back on him, too afraid to face him yet.

He locked the door behind him and approached you carefully.

“My love,” he started, shaking his head. To have a Lady in waiting (a young one, at that) pulling him from training was odd enough as it was, and so he couldn’t help but think something was amiss when you turned away from him. “Is everything alright?”

You tried to steady your breath. How were you going to say this out loud? What if Miguel got angry? What would you do about it? How were you going to fix this?

“Miguel, I…” Your attempt at steadying your breath failed, and instead you started to hyperventilate, tears falling down your face. The frightened expression on your face worried Miguel, and all it took was two strides across your room for him to pull you to his chest.

“It’s alright, mi amor. Shhh. Breathe with me. Here,” he took your hand in his and placed it on top of his heart. The steadiness of his heartbeat relaxed you, and you found yourself breathing slower as he coaxed you. “In… And out… There… You’re doing wonderfully… That’s right, just breathe…”

You breathed in and out for a few more seconds before Miguel asked if you were better. You nodded and looked up at him, trying to gather some courage for what you were about to say.

“Miguel…” You felt the tears prickle the corner of your eyes again but fought against them. You had to be strong. “Miguel…”

He listened attentively, trying not to show how worried he was. What could possibly be so wrong that you’d look so shaken up?

“Miguel, I… I haven’t bled this month…”

He looked confused. How could that be a problem? Did it mean you were ill? Is that why you were so tired earlier? Did it affect you like that?

Seeing the confusion written across his face, you chuckled nervously.

“Miguel, it means… I haven’t bled – and I’ve been so tired and moody, and God, I cannot stand the smell of anything that I’m supposed to eat… I might…” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, far too scared to say it out loud. If you said it, it’d become real.

That’s when it hit him.

Hard.

He froze, staring at you with raised eyebrows. He took you all in, as if it was a foreign thing, if you’d suddenly grown an extra limb.

“Miguel? Please say something?” You said, your voice breaking mid-sentence. “I need you by my side…”

Miguel shook his head slightly, and you could see his eyes had turned teary.

Slowly, he regained his speech.

“You… You’re with child?”

There. He said it. Child.

You were with child.

You were expecting his child.

You nodded, worried about his reaction. What did that mean? Was he happy? Was he worried? Was he angry with you?

“My love, that’s…” Miguel chuckled – a hearty and true chuckled that reverberated across the room. He caught you in his arms and spun you around, placing kisses all over your face. “I love you. I adore you. I worship you, my Queen, my love. The love of my life. You’re giving me a child. You’re bearing my child.” He rambled on like a maniac, holding your hands tightly and kissing them repeatedly.

For a while, you forgot about your predicament.

You saw yourself cradling a small baby in your arms, Miguel wrapping his arms around the both of you. You watched as he took your child to the gardens, watching as he chased butterflies. You saw Miguel sing your child to sleep and kiss your forehead while you nursed him. Or her. You saw yourselves as a happy family, far from the responsibilities of a royal life.

It all seemed so close. So real.

Your illusion was shattered once Miguel let go of your hands.

“You’re carrying my child.” His voice was sombre, dark. It carried none of the happiness of just a few moments ago. “Mierda.” He ran his hands through his fingers, eyes widening in realisation.

Miguel let go of you and paced around the room, trying to calm himself down. He did a much better job than you, taking in deep breaths and walking in circles. He looked at you, took you in once again. That’s right. You said you’d been feeling sick. And tired. It all made perfect sense. You were pregnant with his child – you were pregnant with a child from a man who was not your husband.

“Mi reina, I… I’m so sorry.” He said, walking towards you.

You lifted your hand, stopping him.

“You are not going to apologize.”

“But I – “

“I love you, Miguel.” You said, taking his hand in yours again. “I love you.”

Miguel nodded and hugged you once again, kissing the top of your head slightly.

“What are we going to do?” He asked, rubbing your back comfortingly. “Does anyone know?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No one. I… I figured out today. I have been getting ready in the morning by myself. I wish to be alone, so I do not ask the ladies for help. No one knows.”

He nodded once again and pulled away from him, rubbing his jaw in thought. You decided to break the news now; it was as good a time as any.

“He wants to come to me tonight.” You said, sounding stronger than you felt.

Miguel looked at you, a mix of anger and surprise in his face.

“What!?”

“He told me the Thidorian throne is expecting an heir. Of course, his pride is stronger, and God forbid he is falling behind. He told me he’s coming to my chambers tonight.”

You saw Miguel tense at your words, his jaw ticking. You knew he disliked your husband. So did you. But you also saw the glimmer in his eyes – just like you, Miguel was very intelligent. His mind was running the same possibility yours was.

You saw him nodding emphatically, staring at the floor.

“He will come to you.” He repeated and kept nodding. “Yes. He will come to you. It can work… But…” Miguel turned to you, frowning. “You… You will have to share a bed with him.”

This was your biggest worry. What if Miguel was just like your husband, too prideful to give up what was his?

“It’s the only way, Miguel.” You hugged your torso and tried to carry on speaking without wavering. “I… I must engage in… marital relations.” You nearly puked at the words. “It’s the only way. I will lie with him. I must.”

“You must hide the pregnancy.” Miguel continued, looking at you. He appeared to be focused, deep in thought. “Dismiss your maids for as long as you can and call the physician in a few weeks. Are you feeling too ill? Can you pretend for a few more weeks?” This line was spoken differently. Of course, he would always sound sweet and attentive when it came to you and your well-being. That’s just who Miguel was.

“I think so. There was a chill outside today, perhaps I can pretend to have caught a common cold. It would allow me a few days of bed rest.”

Miguel sighed.

“Do you think… Do you think he will believe it?”

You scoffed.

“The King is far too prideful not to. Once he finds out, he will be too happy to even think about anything else. His priorities will lie with bragging about his heir to every kingdom. He thinks too highly of himself to consider me sharing the bed with someone else.”

“Only the bed?” Miguel quirked an eyebrow, finding it in himself to tease you slightly.

“And my heart.” You ran a hand through his jaw, committing it to memory. “I am sorry.”

He frowned.

“Why?”

“Your child…” You dropped your hand, but he was quick to catch it in between his. You’d said it. You’d said the word – child. “He’ll think it’s his… Your own child…” The tears that threatened to spill did so, and he wiped them away one by one as your words sunk in.

“He will know. We well let him know.” He murmured, kissing your cheeks delicately. “Or she. Nothing will ever take our family away from us. Even if we have to hide it for a while.”

You sniffled, covering his hands with yours.

“And when he’s born? What if he bears no resemblance to him?”

Miguel chewed the inside of his cheek. That’d be a problem. Miguel looked nothing like the King. His hair was far too curly, his skin tanner, his gaze harder, his shoulders broader and his figure bigger. It would be a hard thing to convince the King the child was his. It would be even harder to convince him of the same thing regarding a teenager or a young adult.

He shook his head, undeterred.

“We’ll just have to pray it looks like you then,” he caressed your face, “And we will look in the portrait room. Perhaps we can assume his resemblance comes from his grandfather, or great-grandfather. It would put his mind at rest, to know his family tree is strong. I will think of something. I promise. Alright?”

You mumbled a soft “yes” and sought out his lips with your own. Right now, you just wanted to hold him close. You were frightened and nervous, and it seemed as if the world was spinning. You needed your rock, the love of your life, by your side.

“Mi amor, this is my promise to you. I will always take care of you. Always.” His hand dropped to your stomach, to where your child probably lay. “I’ll always take care of our family.”

In that little moment, nothing else mattered.

The fact your whole marriage could crumble this night meant nothing to you.

You were certain you could do this.

You would share a bed with your husband and make him believe the child was his. You would give him the heir he so desperately wanted.

But your heart would always belong to Miguel. With him, you could love without fears or barriers. He would be always present in his child’s life. You knew that, even having to hide his identity, Miguel would be the greatest father the world had ever seen. He was already doing such a wonderful job.

You looked up and kissed the love of your life, attempting to pour all your heart and emotions into a simple kiss.

“I love you,” you said.

Miguel smiled against your lips.

“I love you too, my Queen.”

You could do this.

As long as you had your knight in shining armour, you could get through anything in the world.

A/N: That's it! I really hope you guys liked it! I missed writing so much, and this was such a fun request! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go study for a test I have no information about, hahaha!

Have a great day everyone!!! <3

[beyondtheglowingstars]

Happy Valentine's everyone!

Here, Valentine's gift from me to you.

Bargain of A Lifetime

Pairing: Hyrule x GN reader Word count: 2.4k WARNING(S): Heavy amounts of reader teasing Hyrule General info: You were having a wonderful day with Hyrule, enjoying each other's company and making memories together. But then you came across an irresistible offer that changed the outcome of everything as a consequence.

You laughed and joked with Hyrule as you walked through the bustling town. Smiles on your faces, the satisfaction from a pleasant day evident on the both of you; you had spent your time playing a few games, buying items of interest and a few treats for yourselves. Additionally, you had also learned just how much Hyrule loves sweets, as if that hadn’t already been established much earlier with the way he practically devoured anything the Champion made that contained some sugar in it.

You were currently giving Hyrule more context to the story you were telling, and he was attentive, carefully listening and asking questions when the opportunity allowed for it. Which made it a total surprise for you when you noticed his eyes shift their focus from your face to something behind you and leave them trained on that point as you kept walking. No longer talking, you were intrigued by whatever was it that had caught his attention.

“What is it, Link?” You asked with genuine interest.

His eyes snapped back to you, the brunet spent a few seconds in silence, then he fiddled with his fingers and his cheeks became dusted with pink after you blinked.

“Oh, not much. But I was wondering if you…” Hyrule rubbed his hands anxiously, looking for words that seemed out of reach and only letting out stutters and a few pauses.

“Uh, if you don’t mind- y’know, help me with s-something. But you see-”

One of your eyebrows arched in confusion as he kept talking, and you weren’t even gonna bother in trying to figure out what he was trying to tell you when he had barely said anything coherent enough to give you a single ounce of context or as much as a hint as to what he may be referring to. It was impossible to get a single idea of what he may be trying to say with this little to work with.

“What?” You cut him off and asked him as confusion ran all over you, and it looked like Hyrule could feel it.

He opened his mouth several times only to shut it again when he couldn’t find what he wanted to say. His blush spread a little further, he swallowed thickly and cleared his throat.

“Um, the bakery behind you is…” and that would be it for all the context you were gonna get from him as he would continue to make unsure sounds.

Your body twisted in the direction of the mentioned bakery, and surely enough, there it was. Remembering how much Hyrule liked treats and the like, now it made sense that he would want to enter the building, though you still found it strange how nervous he had gotten from just the simple request of going with you to said bakery.

“Do you want to go there? I can get you something, if you’d like.” You offered with a smile, taking one of his hands and lightly pulling it.

Hyrule gripped you anxiously, body stiff as a statue.

“Just… forget about it. It’s fine.” And his gaze shifted to his boots as if they had suddenly become the most interesting thing.

“Are you sure you really don’t want anything?” You asked, puzzled.

It was not like Hyrule at all to refuse an opportunity like this, and it made it all the more strange when you consider how he had gladly gone with you to almost every corner of the town without a single worry and now he was very fidgety and uncertain about doing something that was common for everyone.

“Well, even if you don’t want anything, would you go with me?” You looked at the brunet expectantly, waiting for his reply.

He didn’t meet your eyes and his face felt like it was burning from the inside from how much blood was rushing to it, which prompted him to hide behind his bangs as best as he could. His single response was to nod weakly, and you took him by the hand with a grin.

Before you stood a small building made of stone, the name of the business in big letters on a sign. But there was another sign to the side of the entrance that caught your attention, almost right in front of you. Reading it, it was revealed to you that there was a special deal for couples; two pieces of fruit cake for the price of one. You took a moment to process the information, an idea in your head. If your theory was correct, then it certainly explained why the brunet acted the way he had.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyrule had been ferociously fighting the urge to run away and find a place to hide for the rest of the day since he saw you read the sign with the special deal. Sweat ran down his face, he wanted nothing more than disappear. Oh but when you met his eyes after reading the cursed sign, he almost prayed to the godessess to perish right on the spot as he averted his gaze yet again. It all started making sense to you.

“Link, I have an idea.” You informed him with perhaps more enthusiasm than he wanted you to.

“...Really?” His voice audible just enough for you catch what he said.

“Let’s pretend to be together so we can get the cake.”

His body tensed and his arms came up as if to hug himself. Eyes were still strictly trained on the ground.

“I-I don’t know…”

You swore you could almost see the nervousness in the air coming off of him. One of your hands rubbed his shoulder in encouragement.

“Come on, it’s not like you have to kiss me or anything. Just hold my hand or have an arm around me.” Part of you was convinced that it would never work and you should have never suggested that in the first place.

But then Hyrule stopped fidgeting and really considered the possibility, with an ‘oh…’ of realization as if he hadn’t thought of the many options you two had to really look like a couple until you suggested them. But you wouldn’t know that as he was quiet enough that you didn’t hear him. The hero took a deep breath, his head slowly rising with a shy smile on his lips.

“I think I can do that.”

He was relieved, he could handle holding your hand or having an arm around you. Probably. Although the thought of getting to kiss you to pretend you two were together didn’t sound like a bad idea to him, but it was unfortunately too intimidating for him.

Wasting no time, you place yourself right beside him, as close as you can. His arm running behind you as you take his hand and place it on your hip, yours settles to rest on his waist. And to fully sell the act, you lean into him, and the grin and blush on your face only aided you in the image you wanted to present. Link felt like he was gonna melt at any second and slip through your fingers, into the cracks from the stone floor. His face looked almost unhealthily red.

There was no need for words as you two began walking forward in agreement, past the entrance to the bakery. Your nostrils picking up on the many sweet scents inside the building, the fruit cake became more appetizing, and a look at Hyrule revealed that he had to be going through the same thought process as you. Behind the counter, an elderly woman greeted you both with a smile.

“Oh, don’t you two just make an adorable couple? Welcome! What can I get for you?" The lady’s smile warm and bright.

Hylia only knew what was going through Hyrule’s mind when he heard the lady imply that you two were in a relationship, if he hadn’t been struggling keep some mental peace prior to this, then he definitely was now. It was all up to you.

“We would like the fruit cake offer, please.” You glanced at Hyrule to find that he was trying to hide his face behind his bangs and his blush had not let up.

You enjoyed that image a bit too much.

“Why, certainly!” The lady reached behind her to get your baked goods.

“See? It wasn’t that hard.” You whispered to Hyrule, which prompted him to finally meet your eyes with a soft smile on his face after everything.

“It really wasn’t.”

“Don’t forget it was all thanks to me.” You teased and jokingly elbowed Hyrule, causing him to avert his gaze.

Back at the counter, the lady was holding your two pieces of cake which you eagerly took then placed in the basket you were carrying.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”

An idea sparked in your head. You lean closer to the counter.

“My boyfriend is a big fan of sugar, do you have anything you think he would like?”

Behind you, Hyrule’s face bloomed with more red than should be possible. The lady merely chuckled, getting on with your plan.

“My, aren’t you a lucky young man?” Words directed at Hyrule, and he tried to convince himself that he hadn’t heard anything of what had gone on the last couple seconds.

The old woman turned around, going over to where she had an assortment of cookies of several types.

“Oh, to be young and in love again.”

Link wanted nothing more than to be struck down in that moment; didn’t matter what did it he just wanted to forget about everything that had happened since you two entered the bakery. The only way this could get worse is if someone else in the group found out about it, but he suppressed the thought before it could manifest and become a reality.

“It’s a special recipe, the last cookie of its kind that we have left. They are quire popular.” The woman presented a big, round cookie, light in color.

You gingerly packed the treat and put it next to the fruitcake from earlier, the lady subtly winked at you and you winked back as a form of saying thanks for helping you torment Hyrule a little more.

“How much is it?” Your hand about to reach for your pocket, waiting for the lady tell you how much everything costed.

“25 rupees, dear.”

You give her the amount required and lock your arm around Hyrule’s, he nearly jumped at the unexpected contact. Your face looked at his with a smile, ready to go on your way.

“Thank you, young ones! Don’t forget to take care of each other.” The lady waved at you as you walked towards the exit.

You waved back.

“We will!” You replied as you leaned into Link.

Once you were out the building and out of sight from the old woman, you let go of Hyrule and gave him some distance, albeit not too much. The hero scratched the back of his neck, his blush was starting to settle down little by little.

“I think that went well.” You said, as if his face hadn’t been painted with every shade of pink and red back at the bakery.

“Are you gonna be sad that you won’t get to be my boyfriend anymore? You won’t get cookies for some time now.” There was a smirk on your lips as you teased him again.

Not expecting a reply from him, your eyes went to the basket you held, to the most recently acquired goods, much too excited to eat what you had bought. Meanwhile, Hyrule was trying to control the whirlwind of emotions inside him; a part of him that screamed to make his move immediately, and another one that screamed how bad of an idea it was. Cheeks turned pink again, mind set on carrying out this little idea of his.

You were so distracted that you didn’t really notice what was happening until you found yourself encased in Link’s arms. He held you from your waist, eyes sparkly and his face close to yours. Now it was your time to blush and want to hide your face, matching Hyrule’s color back at the bakery.

It happened in the blink of an eye; his soft expression held hesitance, a thousand thoughts a second running through his head, but then his face came closer, and there was a peck on your right cheek.

“What if I remained your boyfriend after today?”

His voice was close to being a whisper and you wouldn’t have heard what he said had you not been so close to each other. Meanwhile, his words had the effect of very sticky honey that firmly held you in place as it delivered a dose of sweet and tender feelings on you.

“I would like that.” You looked at him with a smile, maintaining the eye contact.

His expression softened, and he smiled back at you, his hands never separated from your waist. No words were needed for your next exchange, both of you moved as if you had done this before with each other multiple times.

One of your hands found the back of his head, fingers tangling in his chocolate hair, the other one rested on his shoulder. As for Hyrule, he pulled you in even closer.

Everything else disappeared and was forgotten about, the kiss you shared held every feeling neither of you could put into words. It was long kiss by regular standards, but not suffocating. It was the right amount of soft and meaningful that a part of you ached for more the moment you separated.

“We need to get going. We’ve been gone for a while, but we can do more when we’re alone again.” His hand outstretched for you to take.

The prospect of repeating the kiss from before making you giddy and filled you with excitement. You nod in approval and your fingers tangle with Link’s when you take his hand, but before you could begin walking back to reunite with the group, you stepped closer into his personal space to place a kiss on his cheek.

The gesture made his ears perk up, and a faint blush spread over his face. He looked at you with what was perhaps the widest and happiest grin you’ve ever seen on him and giggle, since you two not only had shared wonderful memories today, gotten some treats to make the moment more memorable, he also had his feelings reciprocated by wonderful you. It all felt as if neither of you had known sadness, both of you filled with a pleasant warmth and joy that would be almost impossible to get rid of.

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

eddie making the catholic reader recite the 10 commandments he made for himself instead of the original ones omg

reader is 18+ in this fic, as in all other of my fics!

——

“say it again, y/n. and this time, don’t mess it up.”

she whines, her hands in his hair as he absolutely devours her pussy. she tries to find the words again but can’t, any coherent sentence she may have formed going out the window as soon as his lips envelop her clit. he moans against her, his eyes on her face, waiting for her to repeat what she just said. she swallows, moaning shakily as he laps at her inner lips. his skillful tongue massages each side slowly, as he gives her the opportunity to speak properly.

“i said,” she begins, brushing some hair from his eyes, “commandment number two. ‘you must take my name in vain, especially when being fucked like a slut.’”

“good girl,” eddie praises, shaking his head back and forth as she moans loudly. “tell me what commandment four is again.”

“d-dishonor…” she says, cut off as two of eddie’s ringed fingers push inside of her. “eddie!”

“no,” he says, withdrawing them and slapping her cunt, hard. “tell me what it is.”

she swallows back a mewl as eddie fingers her again, her legs shaking as he pumps them rapidly. he curls them around her sweet spot and she cries out, more wetness running onto his hand as his mouth settles over her clit again. he doesn’t take his eyes off of her, instead waiting patiently for what her response will be.

“‘dishonor & disobey your…your church and your school, and your…mmm…parents…’”

he slaps her pussy again, this time withdrawing his head as well. “say it the right way.”
she whines, but does as he asks. “satisfied now?”

“no,” he says, rubbing two fingers through her wet pussy before pushing them inside of her. “not until you cum. are you gonna cum for me like a good girl, princess?”

“yes,” she breathes, her eyes on his as she begins to recite more commandments. “‘you shall not covet another man’s dick,’ ‘you must serve me every day,’ and ‘you shall not flirt with another.’”

“i didn’t even have to ask you that time,” he says, eating her out feverishly with a series of groans. “fuck, you taste so good, baby. so fucking sweet and wet for me.”

“gonna cum,” she says, bucking against his face as her thighs begin to quiver more violently around his head. “gonna…I can’t hold back…”

“then don’t,” he says, sucking her clit and swirling his tongue around it. “cum for me. make a mess all over my face, sweetheart.”

“want me to say another commandment?” she asks, tugging his hair harder.

“save them for a little bit,” he says. “just sit back and enjoy it now.”

and that’s exactly what she does. three of eddie’s fingers slide inside of her, fucking her roughly, while his mouth works magic on her swollen, soaking clit. his hair is in his face, his big brown eyes settling on hers, her thighs wrapped around his head. it doesn’t take much more to send her to orgasm, and she cums hard against his face & fingers as he keeps going through her high. he only stops when she’s signaled that she’s had enough, kissing his way up her body and stopping at her tits to kiss & suck on them.

“your boobs are the prettiest in the whole fucking world,” he breathes, sucking ravenously on a nipple before tugging it in his teeth. “i can never get enough.”

“just say you’re obsessed,” she teases, mewling as he kisses between them. “come here, i wanna kiss you now.”

“i’m so fucking obsessed with YOU,” he says, kissing up to her neck. he sucks a hickey there, biting lightly before coming up to kiss her lips. he kisses her passionately, full of so much love and lust. “i fucking love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says, flipping them over so that he’s on his back and she’s hovering over him. “ready to hear the rest of those commandments?”

“you know it,” he says, spanking her ass as she giggles. “you know the ones i want to hear.”

she hums thoughtfully, tossing her hair out of her face before leaning down to kiss his neck. “‘you shall not flock to someone who wants to steal what is mine.’”

“that’s right,” he breathes, moaning as she finds the sweet spot on his neck. she sucks, leaving an identical mark as was on hers. “that means harrington.”

“you don’t have to worry about him,” she says, nipping at his collarbones before kissing over his demon tattoo.

he pulls her head up roughly, forcing her to look at him. “be careful around him, y/n. i trust you, but I don’t trust him.”

“yeah, I know,” she says, licking his spider tattoo as she looks up at him. “I don’t wanna be thinking about him right now; it’ll put me out of the mood.”

“fair enough,” he says, holding her hair back as she sucks one of his pierced nipples into her mouth. “oh shit, baby…that’s so good.”

“commandment number eight,” she breathes, sucking his nipple as she swirls it with her tongue. “‘you shall tell everyone who you belong to and who your true god is.’”

“that’s fucking right,” he says, moaning as she sucks his nipple harder. “christ, you’re such a blasphemous little thing, aren’t you?”

“you made me that way,” she says, winking at him as she gave his other nipple the same treatment. “it’s all your fault.”

“tell me who your god is, y/n,” he says, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “look me in the eye and tell me.”

“you,” she breathes, pulling his thumb into her mouth and sucking as he groans. “eddie munson.”

“good fucking girl,” he says, gently patting her cheek. “go on. worship my dick, the way i always like.”

she kisses down his body until she’s on her knees between his legs. she slowly licks a stripe from his balls to the tip of his throbbing, flushed erection, making eye contact as she does so. his breath catches, one arm behind his head as he props himself better against his pillows. he watches as she kisses his shaft, sloppy, open mouthed kisses that leave him breathless. she jerks him off as she sucks on his balls, her eyes on him as she does so. he whines, bucking up into her touch as she licks the outline of his vein.

“commandment number one,” she says, sucking on his tip and swirling her tongue around the slit. “‘you shall worship me and only me. There is no other god that you may drop to your knees for.’”

and with that, she spits on his dick and takes him into her mouth. eddie moans, both hands coming down to settle in her hair as she takes all of him down her throat. she gags, but quickly gets her reflex under control. she begins to bob her head, jerking him off slowly as she brings her head up. his breath is coming in ragged pants, his head tipped back and eyes half-closed as he takes in everything she’s doing. her mouth is divine, and the sight of her like that is one of the sexiest he’s ever seen. he wishes the camera were handy; he had photos like that already of her, but he always wanted more.

“that’s it, baby,” he praises, moaning breathlessly as she hollows her cheeks. “worship me, like a good fucking girl.”

she gags again, and the sounds of a blowjob quickly fill the room. eddie watches her, thrusting up on occasion, and holding her hair out of her face so that he can see her. she hollows her cheeks further, her tongue playing with his tip every time she brings her head up while she jacks him off. when she needs a moment, she pops off, but keeps pumping his thick cock in her fist.

“the last two,” she pants, lining her breasts up with his cock before rubbing them against it. she places his dick between them, squeezing her tits around it before encouraging him to thrust. “‘you shall not cheat’ and ‘you shall not commit any indecent act with another.’ bet you wouldn’t want me to give steve a titty fuck, would you?”

“don’t wanna think about him right now,” he said, moaning as she pressed her breasts even tighter against his aching, needy cock. “right now, I just wanna paint those pretty tits in cum.”

“do it,” she said. “maybe i’ll even say a few hail mary’s while you do it.”

“if you do that, i’ll cum right now,” he said, thrusting upward as he fucked her tits. “i swear to god.”

“hail mary, full of grace,” she began. “the lord is with thee. blessed art thou amongst women—“

but that’s as far as she got before eddie is cumming, hard and fast, all over her chest. she moans her appreciation, drawing back to gather some of it on her fingers. she pops them into her mouth, groaning at the taste and deep throating them. eddie mewls, pulling her up for a hard kiss as he pushes her onto her back. he smirks down at her after breaking the kiss, pinning her wrists to the mattress as he hums.

“what should I do with you now, princess?” he asks, seeming to ponder the question. “maybe i could teach you another prayer.”

“or maybe,” she says, trying to fight out of his grip as she smirks, “you could worship ME again.”

“oh yeah?” he asks, dragging her to the end of the bed and kneeling between her open legs again. “i think I like the sound of that. wanna recite the act of contrition, baby? and you can’t mess it up.”

“or what?” she asks, raising a brow.

“or i’ll have to bend you over and spank you,” he says, pulling her wet cunt to his face and beginning to devour her once more.

——-

mini taglist: @littledemondani @andvys @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @eddieschains @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @sunkillerdreamer @impulsive-th0ts @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @hideoutside

[httpsclarye]

#RECORD STORE+!

Alice in Borderland characters meeting you for the first time in a record store and both of you share the same taste (headcanons)

# — ARISU!

⇢ You noticed him choosing up a record from one of your favorite bands.

⇢ Probably isnt a famous band that everyone knows

⇢ When you called his attention, he became extremely nervous and couldn't form a coherent sentence.

⇢ He was overjoyed to see someone who appreciates the music he likes.

⇢ You told him how you discovered about the band.

⇢ He'd say it was Karube who introduced him, and then be mixed up since you have no idea who he is.

⇢ Likely would overshare that he plays his games while listening to the band music.

⇢ He would listen to you with a shy smile on his face

⇢ After a few minutes, you would split up to better explore the store.

⇢ Would cross paths on the way to the cash register and smile at each other.

⇢ He would ask the seller to give you a note that was handwritten by him.

⇢ “Hi, my name is Arisu, and I really enjoyed talking to you. Please give me a call at (xx) xxxx-xxxx (sorry I didn't know how to ask for your number)”

# — USAGI!

⇢ You caught her looking at one of your favorite albums, and she noticed.

⇢ She became concerned because she assumed you were familiar with her from her father's newspapers.

⇢ She relaxed and walked over to you as you smiled and pointed to the vinyl in her hand.

⇢ "This is her best album in my opinion! What’s yours?”

⇢ She confessed that she didn't have many friends with whom to discuss her musical tastes.

⇢ You two would walk throughout the store while conversing over the music.

⇢ When she realizes she may be talking too much, she blushes, but you can get her to talk again by asking what other artists she enjoys.

⇢ You’l probably lie and say you don't know who those artists are just to see her smile as she talks.

⇢ As you wait in line to pay, she lets you pass in front of her.

⇢ Together, you exit the store and follow one another down the sidewalk.

# — CHISHIYA!

⇢ He is so silent and unnoticeable that it is likely you were unaware of his presence.

⇢ He would have likely caught your attention while you were holding a record and searching for a particular album.

⇢ “You should probably buy the deluxe version of this record, I suggest.“

⇢ It'd get annoying because you'd know precisely why you're purchasing it, but you'd recognize that he doesn't.

⇢ You would answer in a passive aggressive tone that you are a collector, and he would be intrigued since you are one of the first people he has met who likes the unknown band.

⇢ You likely believe he didn't hear you and just doesn't have anything to do with you.

⇢ But he reacts by telling you his thoughts on the differences between the two editions of the albums and how satisfied he is that someone else gets to share having a good tastes.

⇢ Your conversation would be short and simple, and you would soon part ways.

⇢ You'd go to the register later and find out that he'd paid for your products (after all, he is a doctor and has a lot of money)

⇢ Plus, two weeks later, you'd cross paths on a busy street and look at each other.

# — ANN!

⇢ As soon as you enter the store, you'd be aware of this woman's presence.

⇢ You want to avoid showing up at the same session as her since she is so reserved and confident, but it's impossible because the vinyl you want is already there.

⇢ You would pick it up to look at another record by a musician you like only then to quickly realize that the item you were looking for was not there.

⇢ "You should take this one, just so you know, the cover on this one is damaged and scratched."

⇢ You would grab the item out of her hands and then explain that you already owned it and were seeking for another record by the performer to add to your collection.

⇢ She'd probably just say she collects as well, and you'd try to ask what her favorite songs are.

⇢ She would be closed off with precise and brief responses, never looking into your eyes and always focused on something else.

⇢ But when you happen to stumble over words, she would listen to you carefully and smile.

⇢ You would part ways without swapping names or any other information.

⇢ However, you'd meet again the very next week at the same store, and she'd hand you the vinyl you're seeking for.

# — KUINA!

⇢ Her familiarity with the location of the albums and others products comes from her regular visits to the business.

⇢ As a result, she helps you in searching for vinyl when you are having trouble finding a particular piece.

⇢ She became excited when she realized that it was the record of her favorite singer and she began talking to you.

⇢ She most likely talks a lot, and all you do is smile and nod in agreement.

⇢ However, if you spoke, she would listen attentively.

⇢ With your arms crossed, the two of you would circle the shop as she pointed out what was located where and which employees she personally prefer.

⇢ Because she asked, you likely would list the singer's top albums.

⇢ If you had a differing view, she would be horrified, but she would also laugh with you about it.

⇢ Surely, this girl will flirt to you.

⇢ She would most likely kindly ask your phone number in order to talk about the singer and your thoughts.

⇢ When you pick up the purchase and pay, she would request a special discount for you.

⇢ Message: Hello there, its Kuina from the store, are u free for a coffee tomorrow?

# — NIRAGI!

⇢ He likely became aware of your presence as you approached a vinyl display of the singer he enjoys that was displayed on the wall.

⇢ As soon as you picked up the album, he would laugh sarcastically.

⇢ "I don't think you're bright enough to understand a singer like him"

⇢ His rude statements to someone he has never met in person and his tone of voice would undoubtedly annoy you.

⇢ He would approach you only to pick up another Vinyl record and declare that it was greater, but you could never hear any of it.

⇢ You would become angry and start yelling at him about which Disc was the best and how you had the same interest in music.

⇢ Most likely, you two would be the center of attention for all of the other customers in the shop.

⇢ Within a few minutes, there would already be a lot of noise, and employees would be debating whether it was best to disrupt or ignore.

⇢ He would pause his speech to look at you coldly before smiling sarcastically and walking away.

⇢ And you would become even furious.

⇢ Weeks later, you would most likely meet up at another business.

⇢ "Look if it's not the one who has no taste for anything"

© HTTPSCLARYE, 2023

[gofancyninjaworld]

The OPM Manga in 2023

By the numbers:

23 updates (most 14 days apart, shortest interval: 9 days, longest: 33 days).

662 pages (range 12 - 41 pages, mean page count: 29 pages).

Volumes published: 2 (Volumes 28 and 29). 1 bonus chapter included in Volume 28 -- Olfaction.

By the story:

Psychics and Temper Tantrums (chapters 176 - 184)

Well, the Monster Association is behind us but the fallout from it is slowly beginning to settle. Most of the heroes are now back at work and some of the consequences of a world that's increasingly scared of monster attacks are beginning to show up. The first quarter of the year was taken up with Tatsumaki's temper tantrum -- and Saitama once again daring a strong person to do their worst -- it's like he didn't learn his lesson with Garou, which disappoints me. [I love Saitama, but when brains were being handed out, he was not at the front of the queue.]

That said, even though I did not care one whit for Tatsumaki throwing Saitama around (it wasn't terrible, but really it could have been condensed into 1-2 chapters), the start of the Psychic Sisters arc was fantastic, and its ending was very interesting. I made a nuisance of myself at the start of it, pestering everyone in earshot with my excitement that Tatsumaki was taking Fubuki into her confidence to try getting Psykos out rather than trying to do everything herself.

Her complex feelings of disappointment, betrayal, and the sense that she'd made a mistake were some of the most complex and nuanced we'd seen in the story. She may be paranoid and misanthropic, but she's not crazy: there's a basis for her actions, and being knocked back just when she'd taken the risk of opening up was harsh. Unfortunately, Tatsumaki's default response is rage.. and I'm not going to waste time on recounting what happened then.

I felt pain for her here.

The end as well, expanding as it did on Tatsumaki's thoughts about how she'd accidentally woken Fubuki's psychic powers by scaring her so badly and the guilt she felt at having made her sister a target, was great. Her feelings about Blast are great, as this is the first time we get what she actually thinks of him. I still want her to learn that Blast doesn't work alone -- it'll blow her mind. The session ending with her giving the Fubuki group a chance to grow stronger and prove themselves is a fantastic development.

Even when she's giving someone a chance she still has to be scary.

Schemes (chapters 184, 187 - 191)

I really love how seamlessly the Psychic Sister arc flows into the next big theme: that of schemes and threats to the Hero Association's future. ONE has done a lot of work reworking the webcomic story so that the storyline is a coherent whole rather than two-three apparently unrelated storylines. Fubuki taking advantage of the chaotic aftermath to extract Psykos while securing immunity for her sister, and Tatsumaki brazenly using the HA's need to keep the rich clients sweet to scupper an investigation into Psykos's whereabouts was all clever. However, they're just amateurs and their antics played beautifully into McCoy's hands, who leveraged the crisis to make himself appear indispensible to the HA, thus making it very hard for him to be removed, even as he works to implicate the Hero Association in scandals (many of which he's running).

You can't call McCoy hasty: this guy has played a good long game.

The Hero Association is already having issues recruiting new heroes as they're going to Neo Heroes, which is also pinching existing heroes. However, it's not 100% going McCoy's way. Something I started praising in my review of chapter 173 is the greater self-efficacy of the characters in the manga. Sekingar and Sicchi haven't just been sitting on their hands watching McCoy sell the HA down the river. They've teamed up with Child Emperor to find out what he's really up to.

I think that this is the best cover of 2023: a collection of individuals who embody heroism, whether or not they're recognised as such or work in 'regular' ways. Well, there's one impostor…

Critically, they're not assuming that the Neo Heroes are necessarily evil: they want to understand what this outfit is actually doing. After all, heroism is heroism, no matter what guise it takes. To see that Sekingar has so earned Metal Bat's respect that the latter follows him into the heart of danger did my heart good [1].

Please, my poor heart, it'll burst if things get much more awesome.

Ninjas, Ninnies, Nintendos (193 - 199, ongoing)

That Blast has some connection to the ninjas from Sonic's Ninja Village has been clear for a long time in the webcomic. [2] However, it is only here in the manga that we're getting a full explanation of what that connection is.

Yes, yes, my partner may be a monster but he's a useful monster.

The intertwined story of Blast and his attempts to reach his former partner, Empty Void, who was also running a horrifying 'school' for grooming boys into assassins, and that of Flashy Flash and Speed o' Sound Sonic isn't done yet, but it looks to be reaching at least one turning point. It's a pity that the fan translators stopped translating the cover text because that for chapter 199 was incredibly pertinent: 'Staring at the back of a friend you used to stand shoulder to shoulder with.' Sonic has so much to process.

And like that, Sonic's world has been turned upside down.

Since Blast has an ongoing relationship with Empty Void, we get troubling questions as to how long Blast had known about the Village and whether he disapproved, or had been content to ignore it as long as he had his partner by his side and found his talents indispensible. It's going to be interesting when those two meet! Also, if Blast is hoping to reverse Empty Void's monsterization, he'd better hope that the guy isn't like most people who became monsters. Most ex-human monsters *want* to be that way and there doesn't seem to be a good way to undo it. Well, maybe if you chop them up, have Phoenixman (oops, he seems to have lost his powers) resurrect them, then shock them incredibly hard, that might work. It's unlikely that anyone present can deduce what happened to Gale Wind and Hellfire Flame, much less put all the working parts of that together.

Still, they're going to try. This *is* going to be interesting. Also, potentially heartbreaking.

Reappearances

Genos: the disciple returns to his duty

Unlike the webcomic, Genos has not been completely absent. He's been quite busy: helping Saitama recover their apartment, meeting the Hero Association to discuss important matters, and also, hanging out with Saitama as a friend rather than as a disciple. It's been fun to see that he's finally ditched his flip phone for a smart one, heheh.

Nevertheless, it's not until Dr Kuseno finishes his new upgrade that Genos sets foot in Saitama's house, formally reporting for duty, so to speak. I praise Saitama's self-discipline and good sense in not breaking eye contact and in politely ignoring his disciple's new-found exhibitionism until he had the sense to put a shirt on [3].

Less positive, it's been painful to see that Genos is frustrated at how he doesn't seem to have grasped the kind of growth he's looking for and is unsure whether Saitama truly sees him. It's not been helped by Saitama trying to reassure him, pulling his best 'Reigen' face and instead made everything worse. There are two interesting shames, which will surely be built on at some point. 1: We see Saitama seeing Genos's strength but he doesn't say anything. 2: Genos is right that the strength that comes from within is different from that granted to one by upgrades. We see in another chapter from Nichirin, that having artificial parts is no hindrance to pulling out that great inner strength. The funny thing is that Genos has shown that kind of strength before, when he was fighting Elder Centipede, but he doesn't know it.

Ah, despite everything, those fools are no better at speaking to each other than they were before! It'd be hilarious if it weren't so tragic.

Rarely have the words 'open your mouth and solve your problems' been more apposite. Sadly, that's exactly what they don't do.

Garou: the other disciple tries to learn duty

Now this really threw a lot of fans for a loop -- ONE making clear that he's aware of how young Garou actually is. It was very easy to read Garou as a guy in his early twenties, but strip away the pretensions and he's really young. His over-simple understanding of what was wrong with the world and his over-large sense of responsibility to fix it are thoughts of a teen. It's just a good thing that teenagers don't have world-shattering power, and so can be extreme and wrong without hurting anyone. But it has really jarred with a lot of fans.

I may be giving Bang the side eye as he implements his idea of reformation (apparently, it involves hitting Garou over the head often), but the sense of lightness Garou feels at having a reliable mentor, the relief he undoubtedly feels at having a way to work his crimes off -- being a social outcast may seem cool in a 'reject-the-corrupt-world' way but it gets old fast -- and being able to contribute meaningfully to the dojo's re-establishment is palpable.

His life is sure to start sucking again soon, but for now, it's a joy to see him.

Let him gambol for now. Go Garou!

King: ugh

Sorry, King just irritates me some days and this was one of them. Not because he was running around trying to find someone who could help him: that was fine. But because, unlike the webcomic, once Saitama told him to work out, he's continuing to stick around and play videogames. In a world where everyone is trying their best to make sense of their world and help themselves in some way, however imperfect, the sight of this poster child for mediocre white men overpromoted for looking the part continuing to laze about just pisses me off.

Let him start helping himself and I will praise him.

He's been told what to do but he's not doing it.

GAY!

This year, ONE said: here, my children, I have brought you a pint of homo milk. Drink. What else are we to make of Fubuki triumphantly cradling Psykos as she makes a clean getaway?

This has to be the smuggest 'got the girl' face I've ever seen.

Or Blast continuing to call Empty Void his partner, despite everything that the guy has done, including turning into a monster? He wants him back so badly, and though he says it's strictly professional interest, we think the man doth protest too much.

And then whatever's going on with these two:

Flashy Flash, you ain't got no business calling Blast soft when you're handing Sonic tissues and smiling at him.

Fandom Follies

Do we need to do this? Yup! This year, we discovered that a lot of dudebros who have been against the idea of romance in OPM have just been shippers afraid to come out and own it. The sheer number of Saitama x Tatsumaki fans has been incredible. Nothing wrong with SaiTatsu but the obnoxiousness of fans new to shipping has been hard to tolerate. Learn some manners, folks!

Asides

[1] I think this is great foreshadowing of something Forte says later in the webcomic to paraphrase, risking your life for another hero is something you do as a favour for a friend, not because someone's declared themselves the boss of you and ordered it. It's nice to see Sekingar embodying that ideal.

[2] It's hard to believe it, but to this day (chapter 149), Blast is not yet seen in the webcomic. At this rate, he'll show up at the very end to get jobbed by God (no ID), but not before giving an over-long exposition about what he's been up to. That is, if he's not already dead, only nobody knows yet.

[3] I can see SaiGenos shippers worried that my saying that it's good that Saitama isn't taking Genos up on his obvious attraction means that I might be disapproving of the ship. That is not the case. I'm going to assume that most of us here are old enough to vote, enter into contracts, and pay taxes and so can think of things with nuance and context. A fandom that needs the reassurance of canon to decide what's permissible is a weak, timid, and pallid imitation of one, and one I want no part of. For certain, we're here to discuss the story as it exists, but please, we're also here to consider and explore scenarios and make works that cannot and often should not exist in the canon because they are FUN. Even more pertinent, ONE is on record as LOVING that fans spend their time and creativity doing things with his stories. So please, don't allow any in-universe discussions on what is helpful or unhelpful in the story affect what you draw and write! PLEASE SHIP! Gimme!

[rainsoftenings]

MOLDY REFUSE HEAP — You study the earth. A pitiful attempt at compost lies before you, a smear of dirt and disarray, with plenty of manmade, shattered objects strewn in alongside the organic material. A loaf of bread, still wrapped in its plastic lining, though with a huge gash on the side exposing it to the elements, is festooned with little brown mushrooms.

INLAND EMPIRE — Those mushrooms are looking at you. Mocking you.

YOU — What? They're mushrooms...

INLAND EMPIRE — Look at that one with its ugly little head. Looks like a big wart, and also like it's giving you the finger. Are you going to let that bastard give you the finger?

HALF-LIGHT — SHOOT IT! It's trying to make you look stupid!

YOU — [Draw your gun and aim it at the mushroom-bread wad.]

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant shifts nervously, trying to parse your movements. He'll no doubt wrest the gun away from you should the need arise.

YOU — [Shout.] "Tell me the name of God, you fungal piece of shit!"

SHIVERS — The bread, which once seemed inert, writhes with life before your very eyes. Wheat from faraway fields is milled into flour, mixed with water and sugar and yeast and baked in some mass-production facility God knows how far away only to come to rest, spurned and uneaten, at your feet. No, not uneaten- the yeast, another fungus, was killed, incinerated, in the process of baking. The mold reclaims what remains of its fallen brethren. If you listen close enough, you can almost hear it speaking...

SHIVERS — CAN YOU FEEL YOUR HEART BURNING. CAN YOU FEEL THE STRUGGLE WITHIN. THE FEAR WITHIN ME IS BEYOND ANYTHING YOUR SOUL CAN MAKE. YOU CANNOT KILL ME IN A WAY THAT MATTERS.

YOU — [Cock your gun.] "I'M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU!"

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant's muscles tense now, poised to strike. A look of apprehension- no, fear and concern- crosses his face...

YOU — [Shoot the piece of moldy bread.] PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You hadn't realized it, but your whole frame is trembling, shaking. Tears stream down your face. You hunch, in shame and agony. Like some forgotten gargoyle creature out of myth.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Failure] — The recoil sends a throb down your arm, like you've just been kicked.

KIM KITSURAGI — He places a hand on your shoulder, and you flinch. "Detective, if I may be so bold as to ask... What did you mean by that?"

COMPOSURE [Difficult: Success] — Hey now. Straighten up. It's Kim. You must answer in a coherent fashion.

 INLAND EMPIRE — Screw coherence. The fervent squigglings of your brain will emerge from your mouth until the very stars blink out.

YOU — [Compose yourself.] "Decay exists as an extant form of life."

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant blinks, bewildered. He has no response to that, to your frighteningly calm visage, still stained with drying tears. Behind him, the drunks raise their glasses of brew, yowl a cheer.

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Terrifying answer, Tequila Sunset! Have a nice day!”