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#the desire to live simply as a little animal
yanderestarangel · 7 months
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☆ 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ☆
TW: Pure smut, NSFW, unprotected sex, rough sex, Daddykink, AFAB anatomy, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation, established relationship, a little fluff, Husband! Miguel O'Hara, description of Miguel's dick.
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This man as a husband is a complete package, he loves you, is extremely faithful and does everything to see you happy. Miguel is the kind of husband who shows you for the whole world to see, how beautiful you are, how perfect your body is in the clothes he buys you (and there are many, believe me).
Miguel is the type of husband that if someone flirts with him, he will smile and try to be polite, he only has eyes for you and will never exchange a lifetime of pleasure, happiness and love for a passing adventure in bed, he is yes a sex-crazed animal but that only applies with you his libido is all for you, you turn him on but if it's someone else he'll refuse and come back into your arms.
"-Sorry Honey, I have a husband/wife, I'm a married man" -Miguel would say proudly while showing the thin wedding ring made of expensive material to the woman who flirted with him in the market line, while he did some shopping for you two .
Will wake you up with coffee in bed whenever he can, prepare to wake up to the sound of "Romeo Santos - Eres Mía" is Miguel's favorite song, as he sang happily and brought you your favorite food on a tray with a flower red on the side, then popping it into his mouth like a cheap heartthrob, making you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves you.
♡ Miguel O'Hara is a Horny Husband!!! ♡
He will fuck you in every room in the house possible, over the kitchen counter, in the bathroom, on the living room floor, in the backyard, even on the ceiling if he can...and he can! after all this mf has super strength, prepare to get dizzy as he fucks you in angles and positions you didn't even know existed.
Miguel O'Hara is big... I mean Miguel's cock is 22 centimeters and very thick, with swollen side veins that pulsate and pump, you can see the glow coming off the darker tanned sensitive skin of his cock, with the tip of the member being a darker red matching the rest, as O'Hara's dick is darker than the rest of his body, and extremely beautiful a little crooked to the left, but little else, he uses this to give you more pleasure exploring with the hips.
He loves to see you submissive, he is the type who likes to dominate you with all the anger, passion, love and horny, every drop of his being loves to see you vulnerable and totally naked under his muscular body, he will feel a predator and you are the prey.
"-Look at you, mi amor, crying and trembling... So beautiful mi carinõ... And all mine, this pussy belongs to me..." -Miguel growled, his voice dripping desire and hunger, while looking at you from above below, with you totally sweaty and whimpering from the third denied orgasm that night, every time you came close to coming, O'Hara simply took his fingers out of your pussy and sneered, flashing your beautiful and dangerous fangs at you.
"-Do you really want to come? Beg me, beg me to fuck you, beg me to have your husband's dick inside that nice tight pussy of yours, come on (Y/N) beg, beg me like the good slut you are."
After you whimper and beg, he will finally give in, thrusting his thick, pulsing shaft into you, moving with difficulty because your cock is too thick and you are too tight.
"-Mm, that's it, baby..."- Miguel spoke hoarsely and moaning softly, biting his lip, finally inside you while waiting for your pussy to adjust and take all of his cock.
"-Take daddy's cock deeply, feel every inch of me, you're doing so well (Y/N), such a good little whore for your Husband."
"-Say my name (Y/N)" -Miguel demanded, his voice authoritative and rough, as he slammed into you hard, his hips moving back and forth into your sensitive pussy as he used two fingers to massage your clit hard, making you cry out and squirm with the pleasurable and painful union of Miguel's fingers and cock.
"-Let everyone, the whole neighborhood know who's fucking you mercilessly, Shout out to me, who do you belong to? Shout out (Y/N), shout out to me...Fuck (Y/N)..." -Miguel groaned loud and serious, while he accelerated his hips again on you, leaving a trail of fluids from both of you, in his abdomen, member and groin.
"-You're driving Papi crazy... Hearing you talk like that, feeling your tight pussy squeezing me... it's too much, I'm not going to take much mi amor, you're going to make me come inside you and I'm going to fill your uterus all... until you're totally done with me."
"-Get ready (Y/N), I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to breathe, let alone scream."
"-You're my fucking toy, mi muñeco/muñeca, I own every inch of your pussy, and I'll use it as I please."
"-You love it when I fuck you, don't you? You're a dirty slut (Y/N), Begging for more, craving my cock, You're insatiable, you like to satisfy your Husband? Hm? Tell me mi amor, me tell me you love having my thick cock jammed in your tight, needy pussy."
"-Fuck Mami/Papi... I'm close" -Miguel grumbled as he lifted one of your thighs, looking at your pussy glistening with juices, wet because of him as he thrust with all the strength he could at that moment, the rhythm increasingly erratic for the pleasure he was feeling with your vigorous grip.
"-Are you ready to take my cum (Y/N) Show me how much of a filthy little slut you really are." -Miguel speaks practically shouting, while he gives a last strong thrust, echoing the sound of his skins through the room and coming inside you with a wild and pleasurable growl.
He would fall on his side tired, but still erect and horny, Miguel's tanned body glistened with sweat while the brown hair fell on the spider man's forehead, glued to the skin by fatigue. If you ask him to ride him, he'll freak out and immediately agree, whether he's tired or not, ride this man soon, he needs another round.
"-Of course, baby... You can ride Papi's cock all you want. I want to feel your tight pussy slide down me, taking me deep inside." "-Stay on top of the thick cock daddy, let me see you get down on my cock, let me feel every inch of you."
"-Ride me, baby, yes fuck, that feels so good..." -Miguel spoke between moans, feeling your pussy on top of him, riding hard as you looked him deep in the eyes, watching your husband's face contort with pleasure As O'Hara threw your head back, squeezing your hips tightly as you moaned needfully, you could feel his cock pulsing with every squeeze of your pussy.
"-Take everything I have to give you. You feel so good on my cock, little one."
"-Fuck (Y/N), You're taking my cock so well, my obedient little slut. You're mine to use, to fuck, to pleasure, feel me dominating your tight little pussy, claiming it as mine."
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futureplayboibunnie · 8 months
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Aphrodesiacs Pt.2
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?
y’all are wild. my wish is your command. i HAVE to make a part 3 now fr.
this is so NSFW and i’m too lazy to do any warnings, just 18+ (i’m being so serious deadass)
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The way you said “I don’t care” made Miguel’s chest cave into his insides, he shuddered, gaping at you with a blank and indiscernable look that seemed akin to that of a deer in headlights. You didn’t know what you were talking about. You didn’t know what you were asking from him. He was being coaxed into paradise, lured away from any sort of reason. He stared at you vacantly, eyes wide and wild.
You could see that he was having a prolonged and probably bloody war in his mind over a decision that could effect so many different aspects of your lives. Miguel was a reliable man with many people he had to be worrying about and controlling, he shouldn’t be able to give in like this.
But you made it very clear: you simply didn’t care.
He tried so hard though, to not give in. To put morality in front of his desires that were barking at him like a pack of dogs filled to the brim with rabies. Miguel’s talons ripped through his fingers and his eyes quickly flicked to the sudden emergence, he couldn’t control the way his body was reacting. Your demeanour changed and it was like a switch flipped in your face, instead of blinking up at him like a small dog that had been kicked, your eyes squinted. You flashed him a come-hither look, tilting your chin alongside that meddling sly smile. Inviting him. Challenging him.
Miguel furrowed his eyebrow and you scoffed, taking a few confident strides backwards, your hands fluffing up your hair. He swallowed, a little puzzled at what you were about to do but insatiably curious nontheless. You bit your lip and giggled.
“Come on Miguel…I’m right here…Waiting….Looking like this…” You said completely bemused, teasing him out of any semblance of sanity he had left. Your hands toyed with the zipper or your suit before you yanked it down and slithered out of the constricting material. You were bare and naked in front of him, part of him wanted to rub his bare fists to his eyes. Your body wasn’t even inviting him at this point, it was begging him. The back of your thighs met with the cool glass of his desk, you perched yourself up on it, leaning back on your hands, showing off your assets under your clothing. He groaned at the sight of your tits. Jesus, more than a fucking handful, well, for any other man anyway. Miguel was always a different beast entirely.
“You know you want it. Don’t make me wait for it. We both know you’re not capable of it.” You purred, completely happy with yourself. You shimmied out of your underwear and you spread your legs wider, revealing just how wet and just how aroused you were. “Come on….This was designed to happen. Did you really think you could avoid this for any longer?” You raised an eyebrow. “Is it that easy of you to think of me like this? I know how bad you want to cum all over me and I might even let you.” You bore your fangs and that was it for him.
Miguel’s eyes shot open and gleamed a blood red, crescents forming in his eyes as he glared at you. He really couldn’t stop himself. He tried to hard but it all proved to be pointless. He felt like a man broken down, but all he could be right now was full of lust and rage. Miguel lunged at you, one taloned hand wrapping around your neck and the other spreading your legs wider as he settled between them. He then reached down on the floor to grab your underwear. He pushed you down harshly on his desk, looming over you and then stuffed those barely there panties down your throat.
“I’ll fuck you how I see fit, we clear?” He grunted like a wild animal and you nodded your head, eyes wide and guileless, a little taken aback. He was being unkind and he liked it. He revelled in it.
“Mmmphh…” You struggled out against the fabric that was lodged down your throat.
“I’m going to breed you until you can’t stand up.” He snarled, his breath strained and heavy and he felt your legs tremble as he-
“Miguel? Are you even listening?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face, he was more focused on his zoning out than he was on you and it just made you even more irate. “Hey! Listen to me.” You smacked him across the face and he felt a sharp jolt of pain that teathered him back to reality.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He gritted through clenched teeth, completely and utterly furious that you slapped him and that you pulled him away from his alarmingly lifelike fantasy.
“I’m going to fix this, one way or the other with or without you.” You scowled at him before you walked off in the other direction and out of his eyeline
Miguel was stunned, he lost himself so quickly it was like a compelling force lulled him, his thoughts were becoming more and more realistic, preying on his weakness. He had to fist his hands to make sure he could still feel physical brute pain again, his fangs and talons suddenly emerged and he was losing every possible sense of sanity and good will that was being held hostage inside of him. He was darkened and ashen. He was becoming more and more cruel and unfeeling with every single thought of you.
-
Miguel threw his pillow to the wall in a frenzy, the sheer force of the throw made a crack form on the wall. It was 4 in the morning and he was desperate for some sleep, some peace from these desires and urges to do something normal: like fucking sleep. The side of his head was hanging off the edge of his bed and a frown settled upon his face. You were right. This was not manageable.
Everytime he closed his eyes, he felt you ontop of him, bouncing and creaming on his cock, riding him. He wanted to feel your skin, pull you up and down on him and feel you throw your head back at how big he was as you struggled to even make him fit in and out. Miguel groaned and raked a hand over his face to muffle it, his fangs were dripping venom and his dick was threatening to snap in half. He could fuck his fist and satiate whatever was in him when he wasn’t banging another random girl, but he still felt guility over it. At this point there was nothing else he could do.
Miguel’s hand travelled lower and lower until he reached his rock hard dick. Fucking hell, he felt like a teenager thinking about a naked woman for the first time. He sighed heavily as he let his mind wander.
“You’re all I think about.” You’d whisper in his ear as you grinded on him. “God, you’re all I think about.” You’d whimper. “Too much- Miguel…too much.” You’d drawl, nails digging into his shoulder blades as he felt you tighten and tense up already. “Too big.” He’d make it fit, make you take it, make you cry.
Miguel whispered profanities as his fist pumped faster and faster, his imagination running wild with him. His breathing became more shallow and ragged as he felt himself getting closer. Before he knew it, he came all over his fingers. Fuck. If he came this fast just thinking about you, he winced at the idea of cumming even faster when he was actually in you. No. He pushed the thought away. He wouldn’t let that happen. He shouldn’t.
You on the other hand didn’t feel guilty at all. You fucked yourself with your fingers furiously, trying to fill in for something that another man couldn’t fix, that your own fingers couldn’t fix- but you had to live in delusion and pretend that it helped to some degree. It didn’t at all. You arched your back, feeling nothing bur frustration and heat as only Miguel clouded your mind.
“I’m never going to be finished with you.” He’d promise, eyes wild and glassy. “I’ll pound you until you’re begging for my cum. I’ll make you fucking guzzle it.” He’d stick his fingers down your throar, teasing you with his talons and then plunge his fingers into your sopping pussy. “I’ll make it hurt even more when you’re on your knees.” He’d lick his fangs as he’d watch your body shake and tremble beneath him, laughing at you.
A moan ripped out of your throat as you finished. Nothing changed though. Nothing changed. You weren’t satisfied. You seriously wanted to cry, you were in heat and using other people, using your fingers seemed to make everything worse.
-
AHAHA i felt like i lowkey just blue ballsed you all again LOL
taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows
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auspicioustidings · 5 months
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Savage
Summary: Request for some Scottish warrior Soap taking an English maiden as a prize.
Words: 3.7k
CWs: Violent non-con (I am so serious, do not ready this if it's not your thing), hardcore smut
Authors Note: This is very much a rape fantasy. Traditionally rape fantasies have historical grounding in minorities who felt ashamed of their own desires so had to fantasise a situation in which they were blameless for engaging in a stigmatised action because it was forced. It’s sort of where a lot of the noncon trope in bodice rippers comes from because women in unhappy marriages need a fantasy in which they can get rid of the shame for wanting passionate or rough sex because they imagine they fought against it. A lot more people have rape fantasies than people generally realise and truly a miniscule barely there number of them would ever think it was ok to actually assault someone. All that to say, this is not me condoning anything in real life. If you find fantasies like this don’t do it for you, then do not read it, but don’t then shame people who do. There is psychology behind why people fantasise about these things, it’s pretty normal and you don’t need to be worried that it is some moral failing. Mind your business.
It was a miraculously good match for you, a high ranking soldier of the King’s army. You were technically of noble blood, but just barely. You lived simply, not in a large house but in a small village where you held no sway over anyone else and were treated as common. But the village was close to the border between England and Scotland and every day it became more tense as whispers of raids from villages to the West skittered between houses like rats.
You didn’t know how your uncle had made arrangements for this beneficial marriage for you, but it would get you moving South in a few days time to marry and then you would finally be able to relax with this war much further away from you. You had heard horror stories of what happened to young maidens when savages came pillaging. They said that they didn’t wear anything under those kilts, they said it was to make it easy to bury their cocks in any hot hole they could find. They said they didn’t have any tame qualities, not like the English. Scottish men were feral, the comparison to dogs not holding water because at least dogs could be trained. 
When you retreated to bed you got on your knees to say your prayers. As always you had to beg forgiveness for the licentious thoughts that sent thrills straight to your cunt whenever you thought about the images all those rumours put in your head.
The noise of chaos woke you in a panic, heart hammering against your ribcage as the smell of smoke drifted on the air and war cries sounded. You recognised your own kinfolk of course, the battalion of soldiers stationed here to keep eyes on the border. But it was the cries of those animals from the country to the North that sent you scrambling out of bed in only your chemise, knowing you had to run and hide before they could see you.
You slipped out of the bedroom, a frightened little rabbit looking for a burrow to hop into. The smell of smoke was stronger in the main room and you could see the orange glow of flames through the window. Going outside would be a risk, but hiding in here may get you burned to a crisp should this building be lit up. You did not have time to make the decision as the door burst off of its hinges, a muscular man in a blood spattered kilt with a warrior's mohawk and wild eyes panting like a dog as he caught sight of you.
You were frozen, unable to even breathe. And then after a beat his mouth stretched into a horrid manic grin as he bounded towards you. That finally shifted you from freeze to flight as you scrambled back through to the bedroom, trying to get to the small window. You threw the top half of your body through the gap but his rough hands grabbed your naked ankles and yanked you back, hard. You felt the chemise catch on the window frame, the fabric bunching up to completely expose you to him before he let go of your ankles letting you crash to the ground. 
Your knees throbbed from the hard floor and by the time you were trying to crawl away he had his hand in your hair, brutally pulling your head up and craning it to look at him leaning over and getting into your face.
“Hear I have a wee noble bitch on my hands.”
Of course he would know. There were families here who would tell them anything to save themselves and pointing them in the direction of a noble maiden, one who was betrothed to an English soldier at that, would certainly be information that could spare them. The shouts outside sounded more heavily weighted towards those in his own gruff and growling accent now. The English soldiers were losing.
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about ser” you cried gently, not knowing how else to save yourself. 
“Bonnie words” he growled, pulling so sharply at your hair that you thought your scalp might be bleeding and using his other hand to grope meanly at one of your breasts through the rough fabric of your nightwear.
You cried out, feeling the tears immediately spill over and stream down your face. He was so strong, you could barely budge against his hold, and he reeked of blood and fire and sweat and hot arousal. You squeezed your eyes shut and he only growled at you.
“Ye’ll keep those eyes open, yer going tae watch yer wee English cunt take me like a whore or I’ll take yer tight arse instead.”
You choked on a sob and opened your eyes, seeing that his were full of sick glee and heat. The hand groping at your tits moved under the chemise to cup roughly at your sex and he pulled you to your feet by that hand. You screamed at how it felt as he abused you with his hand, grinding the heel against you. You felt a hot flood of bitter shame as he swiped a finger violently through your folds. What he found there made him pause for a moment, his face lighting up in unrestrained glee.
“Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”
You had heard women who said it would be better to be wet if they were to be taken against their will. You did not agree. Him knowing that your traitorous body found his rough abuse of it arousing was so humiliating you felt you would rather die. He was so oppressive in his demeanour, so big and aggressive above you that you imagined he may break your bed with what he was about to do to you. How foolish of you to think he would have that level of mercy.
“Going tae show all those bastards how their women take Scottish cock” he laughed, spearing two fingers inside you to their full length with no softness at all and pulling you by them.
You could not breathe. You had never had anything inside you and those two fat fingers felt like they were stretching you so much you would tear. He walked backwards so he could keep them firmly inside you and you stumbled pathetically after him, needing to keep as close to him as possible to stop the painful press against your walls that came from him pulling if you did not move. 
The shame was overwhelming as you emerged, full of his fingers and stumbling after him with tears streaming down your face, to find that your country's soldiers had been defeated with the survivors on their knees, hands bound. You were being paraded in front of them you realised, they had been put right here in the town square so they could bear witness, the Scottish soldiers standing behind them feral and full of lust as they took in their leader pulling you in front of them by the cunt. 
When he ripped his fingers out of you, your knees buckled and a high whine left you. You had went from feeling too full to feeling far, far too empty. You could barely hear anything but the blood rushing through you as your heart hammered. That and him as he taunted the soldiers on their knees. 
“Our women would ne’er let ye touch them, they’d die first. Yer clean wee English princess on the ither hand?” he said, planting a booted foot to your chest and pushing until he had you pinned on your back underfoot, “she’s gagging fir it. Foaming at the gusset tae take strong Scottish cock, put a real warrior in her belly.”
His own men cheered at that and you watched on with horror as he cocked his head at one of them and he began to approach you. 
“Naw a monster though am I my wee slut? Ye’d be wet enough fir one of their small English cocks nae doubt, but fir mine? Going tae need something to help me sink in good and deep.”
The other soldier went to his knees between your legs and you watched as he pulled his throbbing cock from under his kilt, jerking it violently. You tried to move away, his cock so close you could feel the heat of it between your legs, but the boot on your chest held you still. When you tried to close your legs the man touching himself used his other hand to wrench one of your knees until it was touching the ground, using his own knees between your thighs to help him keep your glistening cunt fully on display.
When the head of his cock stroked through your folks, slicking you with his pre-cum and bumping at your clit, you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t quite manage to bite back your moan. They laughed meanly at you as the man found his release, spurting hot cum all over your pussy, smacking his cock against your stomach when he was done to shake off the last drops.
It was filthy, you felt sticky and like you were on fire. The next soldier took his place and spat right on your already disgusting cunt as he began to stroke himself. By the time he had painted you with his seed and the third was started, the man above pressed his foot harder to get your attention and all you could do was stare up into his taunting eyes, trying to focus on him so you could not think of what was going on between your legs. You cried up at him, trying to find any level of sympathy in him.
“Keep crying and I’ll gie ye something tae cry about princess.”
Oh you hated him calling you that when you were pinned down in the dirt, defeated soldiers of your country watching as their enemies smeared their cum all over your exposed body. Watching as they made a sloppy mess out of you in preparation for their leader to shove his cock deep inside and pump you full of his savage children.
You did not know how long you stared up at him, not able to look away as you felt the heat of his men on your body, your own body getting hotter and hotter with each slide of velvety throbbing skin against your own. He had started to talk to you, his eyes not budging. It wasn’t the defeated soldiers he was taunting, it was you, ruined and disgraced under his boot.
“See how good I am tae ye little whore? Letting my men make ye flush wi pleasure. Don’t deny it, think I cannae see yer face whenever ye feel a cock on that wee untouched pussy? Like a fucking bitch in heat. I’ll fuck ye like one. Get ye on yer hands and knees so ye can look yer precious King’s soldiers in the eye when ye fall apart on my cock. When ye’r fucking begging for my cum. Wilnae even have tae dae any work, ye’ll be fucking yourself back on me ye needy slut.”
You shook your head in horror at his claims, the true fear being that he would make them true. Already you felt in a daze, felt empty and desperate. But you felt fear as well as he put his arm under his kilt, rucking the fabric up to grab at his cock. It was huge and you found yourself panicked and squirming as the last of his soldiers grunted and slapped the meat of your thigh to get you to stay still. You were rambling incoherently as the man above stroked slowly at himself, causing that thick weapon between his legs to throb and seem even bigger. 
“It won’t fit, it’s not going to fit, please I’ll die, you’ll split me open. It’s so big no no I can’t, I can’t!”
You didn’t even feel the last of his soldier’s loads splatter onto you, didn’t notice when his hands left your flesh. You would have rapidly purpling skin in the shape of fingerprints all over your thighs from how you had been held still by all of them, but you could not feel the dull pain of it through your fear of what was to come.
“Ye’ll take whit I gie ye and ye’ll fucking thank me princess.”
He removed his foot and it was only then you realised that he had been pressing down hard enough that your breaths had been shallow. The rush of oxygen from being able to fully expand your lungs again made you horribly dizzy, but it also flooded right down to your clit and made your body jerk violently with the sensation. 
He didn’t take his hand from his cock and he bent so he could use the other to grab your ruined hair again, yanking your head up and shoving himself into your mouth. You choked, legs scrambling to get underneath you to give you some stability with which to batter your fists against his thighs, trying to pull away. He laughed meanly at your attempts, moving the hand that was touching himself to join the one tangled in your hair on the back of your head and pulling your head at the same time as he thrust forward, settling himself fully in your throat. 
You were gagging around him, tears really streaming down your face now as you begged him with your eyes to let you breathe. He held you there, his own eyes glittering with satisfaction, until your muscles started to give in and you felt your eyes dropping closed as your brain became cottony. Then all at once he pulled you off and you were gulping in oxygen around your coughing and sputtering, the rush much more intense this time. 
He held your head tilted up at him so he could watch your face as he shoved his boot between your legs and got you over the edge. Oh weren’t you a delicious little thing for him, getting off so hard on how he used you, moaning shakily and wantonly in the dirt beneath him in front of his triumphant soldiers and your defeated ones. 
“Good fucking girl” he growled with a feral grin, letting you ride it out with little aborted thrusts on his boot, unable to control your body. 
You looked gone, eyes glazed and body slack. Couldn’t have that, he needed you screaming for him. He needed your blood fighting between being frozen with terror and boiling with need. And he needed you full of him, needed to be able to feel his own cock through your stomach so fucking clearly that he could jerk it. 
You were thrown forward, top half of your body collapsing pathetically into the dirt right where it was covered in the sweat and cum of his soldiers. He manhandled your hips up, leaving your face crushed into the dirt and your ass up high for him, cunt presented. You felt his hot breath at your ear and it was a sudden shock when you realised he was growling lowly into your ear, his words for you and you only.
“S’going tae hurt, yer going tae scream yerself hoarse for me and then I’ll get ye tae milk me when I rip pleasure out of all that pain. Will treat ye right after little princess, like one of my good Scottish lassies, but right now ye’r my fucking English whore.”
The confusing mix of sentiments cleared some of the fuzziness from your mind but you had no time to dwell. He was right, it did hurt and you did scream yourself hoarse. He had lined himself up and plunged into you, cock coated and slick from the cum of his soldiers but no less huge inside your tight virgin pussy. He had split you in two, you were sure of it. His cock must have broken through you, was sitting in your ribcage and punching all the air from your lungs.
You blacked out for a moment, coming right back to when he pulled out to fuck brutally back into you again, slapping your ass so hard that you felt the sting all the way up to your fingertips and making you choke on the sob that fought through the screaming. He ripped at your hair, making you look at the defeated soldiers on their knees. Making you watch their own cocks swell at your treatment. Your utter ruination was making them hard. Your head being wrenched back meant you had to go to your hands as he pounded you, and you saw how they looked as one of your breasts was fucked right out of the chemise, bouncing lewdly for them to see with every hard thrust.
The humiliation had you digging into the dirt like you had claws, feeling the bite of the earth pushing under your nails. It sparked something in your brain, almost like you could see them sharpen. Like you could feel your shoulder blades become more pronounced, become something sinewy and sleek and animal. He was fucking you like a predator and you were drooling and howling and panting like his prey, back bowed as he pulled your hair harder and had to staring at the sky babbling prayers into the night air. 
“S’too much, can’t, I can’t. Full, too full.”
“Ye fucking can. Yer tight fucking cunts trying tae strangle me, wants my cum so bad naw? Perfect English pussy, so slutty and needy for a real cock” he growled, hand letting go of your hair and smacking your ass right over where he had before, causing you to howl at the pain. 
The pain and something else, something that had no place here and yet had been lingering from the moment he had caught you. Something that had been getting closer and brighter and more insistent with every abuse you were subject to. Something that he invited in when your arms collapsed beneath you without him holding your heads weight anymore and he ground your face into the ground before bringing his hand to your clit and pinching. 
Your scream was raw and hoarse, throat well past being able to produce a clear sound. The orgasm was blinding and every bone felt like it had liquified. You saw white and then you saw hardly anything, only vague shapes and colours. The only thing now was how his cock filled you. The shame was gone, replaced with the truth that you loved this. You loved how he used you like this, how he violated you in front of these soldiers just because he could.
“That’s it princess, fucking take it” he hissed, stopping his thrusts and letting you do all the work.
You didn’t even realise now how you wildly fucked yourself back on his cock trying to chase the pain of overstimulation, addicted to the way it made you feel some sick hazy pleasure. You were drooling onto the dirt, tasting the earth mixed with cum and finding the disgust of it only felt right now. When his hand came to your stomach and pushed to feel himself bulging there you came again, harder, babbling thank yous to him.
He bit out a string of curses above you as your pussy squeezed so hard it was forcing him out, but he was strong as he forced himself balls deep and held there, finding his release as you milked everything out of him and into your womb. The liquid heat of it was the last thing you felt as you passed out, blissed and fucked out of your mind. 
John MacTavish allowed himself a moment to lean his body against your back, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt and cum and fear and lust from your limp body. So good for him, took it perfectly. He hissed when he finally pulled out, resisting the temptation to just keep going beyond what would feel good because fuck, being inside you had been a religious experience. 
He was nothing if not a man of his word though, and he scooped your body gently into his arms to get you onto a horse and ready for him to take over the border where he could give you that princess treatment he had promised. The surviving soldiers they would leave beaten and bloodied but not dead. After all, someone had to tell your betrothed all the details.
-
“Fucking MacTavish” he hissed after excusing the man who had given the report.
He had made him give it in full detail, told him to leave nothing out. 
“Kept her alive by the sounds of it, maybe looking to get a bastard out of her” Garrick mused.
“Knowing him he’ll keep her near the border to taunt us instead of moving her further up North” Price added.
Simon Riley would not be letting his betrothed get away with allowing MacTavish of all people to take the maidenhood that rightfully belonged to him. She needed a proper punishing fuck from an English man to learn better.
“Doesn’t matter where he keeps her. I’m going to take her, and she’s going to learn what happens to sluts who spread their legs for those Scottish bastards”.
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opalopera · 8 days
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hihi ! can u write for loner / incel stepbrother x m reader ? (subbot)
mhmm!!! tw;; stepcest, genuine creep character; hentai mentions; masturbation, noncon, incel step-brother, bttm male reader, minors, ageless blogs dni!!
incels; who define themselves as unable to get a romantic or sexual partner despite desiring one. yeah, sure. that was him alright - your older step-brother... nineteen, turning twenty, and you - eighteen, turning nineteen... a one year age difference, making him all jittery... he does admire you, he does! he-he's sorry he doesnt show it... he's sorry he doesnt show how badly he wants to communicate - to talk to you, to learn about you... sorry he's such a disgusting freakish loser, even. he was so excited to meet you, to be a brother after having no siblings ... finally, getting the little brother he's always wanted.
step brother... whos a genuine gross fucking weirdo. wondering how you would ever get along with this guy... he was already introverted; barely making any sort of conversation with you - its harder now that youre living together, forced to have rooms next to each other with a conjoining bathroom... you were reluctant. this guy had no idea what personal space was - getting all close as he brushes his teeth next to you every other night... but still, silent as ever... so very careful to hide certain disgusting figures of busty anime characters and toys - fleshlights and - just because hes so experimental!!! - ( already fucking himself with a fleshjack, moaning out ur name accompanied by little bro )
often masturbating in his dark little hobbit hole to brocon hentai - fantasizing that it was you calling for your big brother rather than the animated character on his monitor so unashamed...
whining to himself, voice muted as he slowly strokes along his cock - why is he so undesirable to women? and... why not have sex with the next best thing? his new little step brother... he knows hes awkward, and he knows damn well that you dont share the same interests... and he never wouldve thought it would have come to this - but here you are... in his little fantasy, bouncing on his cock and calling him big brother...
often merely jerking off to the sounds of you simply taking a shower - a shared bathroom connected between your rooms... but now - t-to stand in the corner of your room, admiring the way the moonlight hits your face, lightening your features and giving him even more room to work with - languidly stroking his cock and quieting his grunts and moans with one of your dirty shirts he found in the bathroom hamper - secretly hoping that you do wake up, that you see him masturbating to the sight of you and that you whine at how gross your big brother is - f-fuck-! painting his hand with his thick opalescent cum, cleaning it up in a huff with your shirt and taking it with him to the bathroom where he entered so sneakily...
before finally taking what hes always wanted from you!! after... listening in from the bathroom; your desperate mewls and attempts to cum - he intervenes, shoving the door open and you exclaim his name in shock - covering yourself upㅡ"d-dont call me that," he exhales shakily, climbing over you so quickly - giving you no time to react as he continues grumbling as he easily flips you on your belly and holds your wrists behind your back - ignoring your struggle to buck him off - "c-call me big brother..."
and... sitting on the edge of your bed after shucking off the rest of your clothes - cock bobbing up and down as he bounces you along his prick, your wrists restrained behind your back and being so helpless for ur big bro ,,, "y-yeah, thats right... little brother... how does big bro's cock feel inside you, huh?" mumbling a specific line from his disgusting pornos, not as embarrassed as he should be as he fucks you full of his cum rather too quickly...
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rubynationwins · 8 months
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Soft & Cuddly
Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader
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Synopsis: Bucky is very determined to prolong your cuddle sesh.
Warnings: just some sickly sweet fluff for your perusal, sleepy/needy Bucky, a lil angst in the beginning
A/N: A little drabble to get me out of my writing slump/hiatus I never officially announced😅 oops. Anyway, I hope you all are doing well🥰
Thanks for reading!
-Ruby
Bucky loved soft things.
For too long, he’d been subjected to cold and unforgiving environments filled with harsh, unmovable barriers. As the Winter Soldier, his life had been a continuous tirade of concrete, metal, harsh terrain, and a constant threat of danger that kept him from ever truly resting. Until, of course, he was put back on ice - only to be awoken to do the bidding of cold, unforgiving people when the time came. 
So, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that now he did everything in his power to surround himself with the opposite of what his previous life had been full of.
Lucky enough for him, you provided all the comfort he desired.
Your bed was soft and littered with fuzzy blankets and stuffed animals. Cushioned rugs that his feet sank into with every step covered the entire floor of your bedroom. Bucky would happily cocoon himself away in your room forever and live out the rest of his day basking in the warmth and coziness of it all.
What Bucky loved most of all, however, was your softness. In fact, the best part of your room was the fact that it you were in it. 
Currently, Bucky was laying in your bed with his head resting in your lap. You were scrolling through your phone, absentmindedly stroking your fingers through his silky locks. Bucky nuzzled into your thigh, his scruffy chin tickling your bare skin. His metal hand sat against your other leg, fingers lazily tracing along your inner thigh. They crested over the dimples that shifted every time you moved, and outlined the intricate stretch marks that interrupted the smooth plains of your body. He wanted to run his hands across all of you, mapping out every divot and line that led to the discovery of you. Bucky breathed in your perfect scent, his eyes drifting shut. He knew he could relax and let his guard down around you, it’s one of the things he cherished most about your relationship.
Your hand stopped its motion. “Bucky?” You gently called out. He simply nuzzled deeper into your lap. You chuckled, “Bucky, you can’t fall asleep there, I have to get up.” You unwrapped your leg that was curled up underneath his head and moved to get out of bed. Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around the outside of your lower hip, ceasing your attempt at escape. 
“Just 10 more minutes doll,” he grumbled against your skin, the sensation sparking butterflies in your stomach.
“Buckyyyyy-“ you whined, fully aware that 10 minutes would turn into an entire afternoon.
“Please?” His plea was so soft, so sweet.
You let out a sigh in defeat, “Fine. Just 10 more minutes. Then I’ve got to get up.”
You felt his satisfied smile against your skin and rolled your eyes. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you cuddled up with him. 30 minutes later you and Bucky were both softly snoring, wrapped in the softness of each other. 
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melminli · 2 months
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Blueberry Tartlet
pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader
summery - coriolanus hated district scum, and he hated his longing to be near one. acting on his desires may be one of the things he wanted most, but doing so would mean that he had to betray himself.
word count: 1.2k
contains: district reader living in the capitol, fluff, coryo fighting his inner demons, slightly dark themes, coryo being a simp
part II
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He hated this. He hated the atmosphere. He hated the lights, the loud voices around him, and even worse, he hated the way his eyes landed on a specific figure in the room every few minutes. Don't bother. You're just here to get something in your stomach. Coriolanus said to himself, smiling kindly for a moment as two of his teachers walked past him. It vanished as quickly as they passed him, and he took another sip from the glass of Posca in his hand so he wouldn't stand idly by. And maybe to maintain your reputation, but that's it.
Right after he finished that thought, his gaze found itself back to the spot he was trying to avoid, and he inwardly cursed himself for turning his very annoying behavior into a very annoying reflex. To his slight disappointment, his blue eyes could no longer make out the figure they were looking for, and for a brief moment, Coriolanus tried to convince himself that this was for the best. This was a good chance for him to keep his gaze away from any distractions for the rest of the evening.
"Hello, Coriolanus." Your voice suddenly appeared from his right side, unintentionally surprising the boy. "Is Sejanus not here? You're rarely seen without him at your side." You asked him and leaned with your elbows against the standing table where he was at.
All it took was a few seconds for the blond student to regain his composure and accept that this was actually better than his previous reasoning. Coriolanus could try to bullshit himself, but he wasn't stupid. "Well, I'm not really sure, to be honest, but we don't hang around that much." He replied with a charming smile as he met your gaze.
You, in your neatly pressed red school uniform and well-groomed appearance. You with your pretty smile and nice character. If he didn't know any better, he could easily mistake you for a Capitol citizen.
But he knew better. He should know better. You were exactly the same kind of animal he could watch in the Hunger Games like a spectator at a circus. Well, he doubted it was likely with your family's position here at the Capitol, but it could be you. Fighting for your life in a junk arena with rats, dying only to be remembered by no one but your own family, and not even getting the chance to have a dream for the future.
But here we are. You had more money than him, more clothes, more friends, and more of...everything really. Coriolanus didn't know which he loathed more, the fact that you were so lucky in life to escape your cruel fate as district filth or the fact that he sometimes stared absently around and imagined placing a kiss on the lips of such a person.
Maybe it was both.
You laughed. "The way you said it, makes it sound like you prefer it this way. Am I right? Do you rather prefer to be on your own?" You asked him and could actually imagine that quite well if you were being honest.
"I don't mind company." He simply replied and leaned a little closer to you. "If it's pleasant, of course."
Your eyes turned away briefly to look around the huge room. "Well, who likes unpleasant company?" You asked him as your gaze fell on one particular couple in the room. "You know what? I take that back. I suppose there are a few masochists among us who...crave it." You just said, not quite able to find the right words to express the scene in front of you.
Blue eyes followed your gaze and saw the two infamous people. "They're still together?" Coriolanus asked himself, slightly surprised but didn't really find it unexpected. "Didn't he cheat on her?" He whispered to you, thinking back to what he heard. "Like three times or something? Wasn't it like one time with her sister, too?"
You shook your head. "No, it was with her cousin, actually." A few seconds of silence followed. "Well, that certainly doesn't make it better, though. I don't know, I just don't think that it can be that good, you know?" You joked only to meet his confused expression. You could see him about to ask what you meant, but you didn't really want to go there. "Anyway, we can all agree that the two of them should break up."
Coriolanus just shrugged his shoulders. I don't know, it's kind of fun to watch. "I don't think they will. She's...too much in love with him."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "Can you really overlook things, just like that, though? Because of love? I find that hard to believe..." You mumbled to yourself, not liking the thought that much.
What you said reminded Coriolanus of reality again. That's right. You were a girl from District One. It was the closest to the Capitol and yet there was a clear line between them. His eyes watched your figure from the side. Well, certainly not clear enough.
Because of the war, it was almost impossible for the remaining rich people of the Capitol to get their hands on luxury goods. That was the task of District One, and they refused to continue playing slaves just so some ass could look pretty. If he remembered correctly, your mother was the only one who helped out the Capitol by designing and producing soldiers' uniforms in her small company. Your family had betrayed your own people but had secured a golden ticket to the Capitol, where your mother's designs were in high demand. Especially now that fewer people in the Capitol have to think about survival, they can finally worry about their expensive looks again.
You were no better than that stupid Sejanus, although you were definitely prettier. He sighed to himself. He didn't like how he had to keep reminding himself of that fact, but he couldn't forget it. She's a District girl. She always will be, nothing will ever change that. He reminded himself and couldn't stop himself from looking longingly at your figure. You will never be able to marry her, she is not worthy to bear the name Snow.
Your eyes sparkled as an Avox held out his tray for you to grab a fruit tart. You thanked him. "Look, they have some with blueberries. They're the best, trust me." You said and handed him the second one you had quickly grabbed. You saw him look at it a little robotically. "Don't worry, if you don't like it, I can eat it. Just try it."
She's not worthy, but she'd look so pretty with it. Coriolanus thought to himself as he said your name along with his last name in his head. "No way, those are my favorites too." He said and took a bite.
He liked the peach ones more.
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lassieposting · 2 months
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Concept:
You are Bhaal, god of murder, and someone is praying to you.
And that's not necessarily unusual. Lots of people pray to you, usually for the untimely death of a rival, an ex-spouse, an overseer. The prayer itself is a small and broken thing, bloody and raw, whispered by a man whose vision is dulled by agony and the dark spectre of approaching death. The pathetic not-quite-survivor of some rather brutal torture, wishing murder upon his captor. You take a moment to enjoy the fear, the pain, the suffering - and then you tune him out. There are millions like him, and your favour is for those willing to do their killing themselves. Besides, that wretch will be nothing but a corpse all too soon.
Except...he doesn't die. You never feel that timid little spark of existence stutter and go out. Far beyond the breaking point of a mortal body, this one lingers on, clinging to being with fingers all but stripped back to bare bone.
It's intriguing enough to warrant a second look and - interesting. The prayer comes from a vampire, a pretty little corpse becoming an even prettier corpse under the skilled hand of a cruel master.
It is not in your nature to intervene. You favour the strong, not the weak. The master, not the slave. Your first instinct is to leave the wretched little thing to his fate.
But the thing is. Your child - your favourite child, shaped from your own flesh, coldest and most brutal of your progeny - has gone and got a boyfriend.
And you don't like him.
You don't like the effect he's having on your chosen, the way they're becoming distracted, attached, less devoted to their true purpose. And right now, your nature takes a back seat to your desire to get rid of that smug, arrogant little Baanite whelp, Enver Gortash. Your granddaughter's spiteful machinations have given you an opening, but you know they're bound to run into one another eventually, and it will all start over.
The vampire is beautiful. Well-trained. Accustomed to brutality. Already purged of sympathy and compassion, eaten up inside by hatred and bitterness and harm. And immortal; able to survive the worst of your son's inclinations. At this point, he'll do.
So you redirect a nautiloid. It's not that you're showing the creature any favour - it's just pragmatism, really. He is simply a tiny piece of a very large puzzle.
And then you watch.
You watch the vampire take the spectacular murder of a young bard in stride.
You watch him identify your memory-addled, sanity-challenged offspring as the most dangerous one in their sad little group of unwashed tragedies - the strongest protector, the solution to his fear of being discarded or returned to his master.
You watch him expertly lure your progeny into a pit trap of sex and lies and manipulation, dressed up with honeyed words and an exaggerated performance of desire.
Your child comes face to face with Enver Gortash and remembers nothing - feels nothing. They only have eyes for Astarion, and you are filled with satisfaction. The vampire is pathetic and fearful now, but already he plans to take over his master's ritual, and then he will be perfectly placed to feed your child's very worst impulses, to bring out the sharpest edge of the darkness inside.
You watch the vampire say, "I want us to be real."
You watch your child happily become a glorified comfort blanket, your masterwork living weapon reduced to little more than a prey animal, a do-gooder, a sacrifice.
Watch them vow, "I will be the person you see in me."
Watch them talk the blasted creature out of going through with the ritual at all.
Watch them start fighting their own nature for the pantomime love of someone else's broken toy.
Watch them turn on you.
And you decide, with the benefit of hindsight, that Enver Gortash was not that bad, actually.
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barbiedragon · 3 months
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'Til We're Twins Again
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader (HOTD)
WC: 1.4k
12 Days of Smuff-Sunset/Sunrise & Orgasm Control
Warnings: Oral (m receiving), outdoor sex, mild D/s themes, knife play, creampie
After laying siege to King's Landing, the twins share an intimate moment. Part of the Castling Series
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Screams filled the air, along with the tinge of metallic blood and burnt flesh. Adrenaline pulsed through your veins as Vhagar’s large wings sliced through the air. Your fingers dug into Aemond’s leather encased arms.
“Geptot elēnās, Vhagar (bank to the left),” you cried, directing her towards a marching hoard of loyal Green soldiers.
You did not command her often, but your bond with Aemond ran deep, so she listened. You remained silent as Aemond ordered her.
“Drakarys, Vhagar,” he hissed, and you felt the warmth of her dragonfire on your cheeks.
Caraxes loomed close by as Daemon released his vengeance. His nefarious laughter was crisp in the wind as he burnt members of the Kingsguard. Rhaenyra had secured the Red Keep with Syrax, and now the remaining defenses were the last to fall. You thought of the lives lost to this War. So much blood had been spilled, enough to drown Westeros. Your heart grew heavy at the thought of Helaena, your sweet sister who had succumbed to the sorrow and madness of her mind. Your grip tightened around Aemond’s arms as Vhagar flew over King’s Landing. Agnozing screams filled the streets as the siege ended—a bittersweet moment, you thought as you pressed your face into Aemond’s braid.
Vhagar landed in the Kingswood, the ground crunching beneath her talons. The reigns dropped from Aemond’s gloved hands before he dismantled then helped you from the saddle. You didn’t realize you were shaking until his hands gripped your upper arms to settle you. Vhagar emitted a soft huff before she lowered to the ground to nap. She had earned it.
“We’re safe, sister. Rhaenyra has her throne,” he whispered before his lips claimed yours.
His hands took hold of your hips, possessive and strong, as he pulled your body tightly against his. Your tongue explored the warm cavern of his mouth. Lust overtook you, and all you yearned for was him. To have him buried deep inside of you. You would never feel whole without him. Aemond pushed you back as he unbuttoned your riding coat, letting it fall into the dirt before sliding your breeches down your hips. One gloved hand slipped between your thighs, pressing to your mound hidden under your small clothes.
“Aemond,” you whined as heat and desire enveloped you.
He used the dagger at his waist to slice through the thin material until you stood bare before him. A small part of you hoped the blade would nick your skin, for him to lick the droplet of blood away, the same blood that flowed through his veins.  You did not shy away; instead, you stood proudly with your arms at your side and a mischievous smirk on your face. You were his, and he could do what he wished with you. The heat pooling in your belly was enough to stave off the chill of impending dusk.
“On your knees, sister,” Aemond smirked, obediently you sank onto the soft earth before him. You did not need to be told what to do next as you simply unlaced his breeches to free his hard cock. Your thumb ran teasingly over the sheath of skin to arouse and reveal all of him to you before you wrapped your mouth around the glistening tip.
You drew him deep, cheeks hollowing as your nose brushed against his lower belly. The sparse silver curls tickled your nose. Aemond’s hand gripped your braid as he thrust his hips. Need pulsated between your legs, spurring you on, and you whimpered when you felt Aemond press the toe of his boot against your dripping cunt. You rutted against it like an animal while he fucked your mouth. It wasn’t long before you felt the warm drip of spend leak down your throat as you left your slick behind on his boot.
“My perfect little sister, my lovely, sweet wife. All mine,” he cooed as his thumb traced your swollen lip and brushed over the small nick from the wedding ceremony.
You nuzzled his tummy, at a loss for words but needing more of him. Yet you knew he needed time to recover, and you slowly stood, wrapping your naked body around his clothed one. He enveloped you in his arms, his hands stroking and kneading your soft skin. Your cheeks burned hot as he grasped your backside, leather-clad fingers digging into your tender flesh. You glanced up at the sky and noticed the sun was beginning to set. Red and orange began to overtake the vibrant blue and bathed the forest in a warm glow. You buried your face in Aemond’s chest, enjoying this soft moment with him—a brief respite of peace.
Once enough time had passed, you lowered to your knees again before turning to press onto all fours, presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat.
“Take me, idañus (twin),” you begged, arching your back. You squeaked when he landed a sharp slap on your rump.
The soft rustling of clothing filled the air, and you moaned with delight as you felt his cock press against you. With his hands settled on your hips, he slowly slipped inside until you were stretched full of him. Your pearl throbbed at the familiar feeling. You were his. His hips found a steady pace as his flesh slapped against yours while your fingers sunk into the warm earth. Guttural moans spilled from your lips as your twin grunted with pleasure.
“All mine, idañus, all mine,” Aemond grunted.
You clenched around him as pressure built in your lower belly as the two of you fucked like wild animals in the Kingswood. It felt oddly fitting. Two dragons in the wild fulfilling a base need and giving in to primal instinct. 
“Fill me, Aemond, make me swell with a babe,” you whined, rocking against him.
He held your hips tightly as he pounded you, making your body jerk with each powerful thrust. 
“I’m going to fill you to the brim, dōnus idañus (sweet twin), But not yet. Wait for me to tell you when,” Aemond growled.
You whimpered, unsure if you could hold on but determined to wait for his command. He slipped out of you before quickly flipping you onto your back before filling you again. A wet squelch filled the air as he pressed tightly against you.  His large hand, free from the leather gloves, cupped your cheek. His gaze met yours, thrusting in a steady, soothing rhythm. In turn, you cupped his cheek, your thumb tracing along the strap of his leather eye patch.  In that moment, you were one. Your hand pressed to his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath your palm. You weren’t sure how long you would last, ready to give yourself to him.
“Let go,” he whispered, the silken tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine.
Those words were all you needed to topple over into a sweet, powerful release as delicious pleasure burst through you. Bright stars danced behind your eyelids, and you thought fondly of how Daemon had always called you his little star. Aemond spilled inside you, his seed leaking down your thighs as he kept true to his promise to fill you to the brim while happy tears streamed down your cheeks. You loved him more than anything in this world apart from Naela. Aemond panted softly, remaining inside you until he grew soft. He gently wiped you clean using your tattered small clothes, then did the same to himself.
As the sun grew dimmer in the sky, Aemond spread the coats over the ground, his pale chest bathed in the ethereal glow of the sunset. He lay on top of them before gathering you into his arms, his nimble fingers undoing your braid to allow your silver waves to cascade down your bare back. You did the same to him before running your fingers through his silken stands. His nose pressed against yours, rubbing gently together as you curled around him.
As the sun finally set over King’s Landing and darkness overtook the Kingswood, you thought of new beginnings. The sun would rise on the morrow, and Rhaenyra would be Queen. You were married to the man you loved, and hopefully, the Gods would bless your union with many children. A new dawn loomed on the horizon, so you allowed yourself to close your eyes as you clung to Aemond and dreamed of the happy things to come.
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flashbangstars · 2 months
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NCT dream as people you met on public transport
as someone who lives in a big city this was simply fitting
Mark
he took the last seat as you both got on at the same stop
he made awkward eye contact as he notices you standing infront of him as he was sitting
and them proceeded to look at you ever couple minutes while he was sitting
he had headphones in, but with how shit they were you could hear the justin bieber songs leaking through and he was now on his 6th jb song
it was like he literally had just a jb playlist
GOD ANOTHER ONE
every time the train would stop for a station he would pull one earbud out and look around wildly and then once he realized it wasn't his spot he would put the earbud back
when you had zoned out staring off into the distance you felt a poke at your leg.
"you can have my seat when I get off"
#1 jb stan was being a gentlemen
you weren't sure if he was aware, but he had been loudly humming the songs as they past and he currently was halfway through one less lonely girl
when the train slowed to your stop, jb stan shot up abruptly leaving less than 2 inches between the two of you
and like screeched a little bit?
Running towards the exit of the train and waiting for the doors to open
once they opened he darted across the platform to the same train on the other side going the opposite way
Justin bieber boy missed his stop too lost in the jb sauce : (
Renjun
your usual go to is putting ur backpack on the seat next to you, (because you get enjoyment from being an asshole)
two stops into your commute, shorty came up to you and pointed at your backpack
you took your airpod out and looked up
"can you move your bag
no "please", no "is it ok" NOTHING
you begrudgingly moved your bag onto to your lap
he sat down next to you and put his own headphones on
the good news was he smelled really good
like sophisticated richness
like he owned a yacht and went to expensive restaurants
you just usually stole whatever perfume your roommate left out in the bathroom (with permission)
and why are the mean looking bitches always hot??
He looks like he perpetually sucks on lemons, but I want him!
halfway through the ride you had been zoned out and knew your stop wasn't for a bit, you felt a tug at your bag
your ass clenched in fear, cuz like am I being robbed??
looking down slightly you watched as ice prince was mindlessly playing with the keychain that hung from your bag that was in his space
you didn't move a inch as if not to spook him (jesus christ hes not a fucking animal)
he then snapped out of it and dropped the keychain and looked up quickly to see if you noticed, not expecting you to be already looking
he flinched a bit and eyes widened
"oh.. I'm so sorry" he apologized putting his hands up
you reach down again and grab the keychain he had been playing with and hold it up
"I got it from gas station because I thought it was cool"
his small hand slowly creeped down again to grab the keychain once more
"oh, It looks really cool" he said softly and played with the charms
you two then spent the rest of the trip talking about the trinkets on your bags
Jeno
he was on the train when you got on, he was sitting at one of the double seats by the door
when he saw you get on he moved his sports duffle from the seat next to him onto the floor and gave you that look of "you can sit here if you want"
he had on those big over ear headphones and a giant ass hoodie n sweats
if you were being honest he was kinda hot
when you sat down next to him it was incredibly hard to not make awkward eye contact with him as he was beside you
it was semi hot outside since it was the end of spring and so you both were in shorts
you had that weird skin to skin contact at first and I think it sparked some sort of carnal desire
very much so a inside us there are two wolves moment
you couldn't even tell anyone about your experience because he could see your screen and you didn't have one of those privacy ones!
you had to suffer in silence, job harder than the soldiers : (
when your stop came, you went. reach above and pull the line, but he beat you to it and reached his arm over you doing it first.
well now you just had to follow him home!
kidding!
kidding!
kidding!
Haechan
You had 10 stops before yours, and you were sitting in front of the lit up board that tracked the stops.
your roommate got on usually 5 stops after you to join you otw home so you weren't worried about missing the stop
You put headphones in and leaned your head back to escape the harsh bright lights of the train.
30 minutes pass and you open your eyes to your roommate sitting on the side opposite you with a devious ass look on her face
the rest of your body wakes up from your power nap and become aware of the weight on your head and your arms
you had fallen asleep and wrapped your hands around the arm of the guy next to you..
and you had rested your head on his shoulder...
what the FUCK DO I DO NOW?
A Midst your panic you notice the weight on top of your head....
HE HAD FALLEN ASLEEP ON YOU????
you slowly snake your hand out from his arm and check your phone.
you had 67 notifications in your groupchat...
opening it, you find 7 pictures of you and this literally STRANGER asleep on each other.
waitttttt.... whys he kinda hot......
this actually may not be bad!
love and affection FOR THE FREE?
lemme take my ass back to sleep
the next time you woke up you had been repositioned now with your head on your friends shoulder
damn how fucking hard did you sleep....
you look around and nap stranger had disappeared
you felt your heart clench at the loss of your momentary wattpad relationship, mourning the hot man who had fallen asleep on you
becoming aware of your limbs again you tighten your grip around your phone and bring it up to check the notifications to find a bright yellow post it note stuck to the screen
"thanks for the nap : ) 999-999-9999"
this was a major win for women everywhere
Jaemin
the bus in the morning was this like devastating liminal space
it was cold
the lights were bright
and you kinda wanted to get hit by the bus
because of how early it is, you usually were one of the only people on the bus
today two stops in a fucking mens model on on the bus!!
sir what are you doing in this metal prison!
he sat in the back on the raised portion while you stayed in the front
you glanced up to look at him again, because.. shit if this was going to be the highlight of your morning you would take it
but when you looked up you made direct eye contact with him
playing off smoothly you did the thing where you kinda look to the side ish
looking back again you make eye contact AGAIN
hello???
as you two hold this prolonged eye contact, he raised his hand and waVED?
yall hear that meowing??? thats just my puss- GUNSHOTS
you wave back and smile your best "Im a innocent girl, but can take it like a champ" smile
and watch as he grabs his bag and stands
ur ass clenches thinking this will be the last time you may come across prince charming, but then unclenches when you realize it is also your stop
Getting up you follow ahead and go to the door exiting. walking down the street in the early morning listening to some fuckass songs trying to make the reality of 8 am classes seem better
when a hand grips your shoulder
21 years of being a woman and also a anxious mess you scream and turn around with your hands up
just to see sexy man from bus!
sexy man from bus what are you doing here?
"i am so sorry, you just didn't here me calling, so I just grabbed you I don't know why I did that, especially you're a woman alone, I don't know why I didn't think of that first?.."
sexy bus man was now rambling
"its ok!!" you say trying to put SBM (sexy bus man) out of his misery
"oh uh, well you left this on the bus, when you got up I think it got stuck on the seat, and i figured since we got off at the same stop I would just grab it.."
rambling seemed to be a common occurrence for SBM
looking down you saw the familiar hello kitty keychain you had on the back of your bag that you spent way to much money on a claw game for in his hand
"thank you sexy bu- SIR"
"..... your welcome"
Chenle
it was 7am on a Wednesday night and bro just got on the train in a pair of sunglasses on.
it was almost never that serious
it was in the morning and you were waiting for a friend and saving a seat hence the double seat with one side with your backpack
the sunglasses walked down the aisle and stopped at your chair.
not even asking, he grabbed your backpack with his grimy hands and moved it to be next to you, then sitting down opposite
you literally felt your eye twitch because like HUH?
"excuse me? I'm waiting for someone, they literally just got on at this stop"
sunglasses perked up the slightest and directed his gaze towards you "I don't see them"
you literally felt your eye twitch again and you chest tighten because of the audacity
your friend at that moment walked into the car, prompting you to point and say "okay well she's here now, you can move"
to which sunglasses shrugged and and said "I'm comfortable, why are you so opposed to sharing?"
you heard your friend laugh in disbelief and your eye twitched AGAIN
Your friend squished in next to you and you ended up sitting across from Sunglasses
your thighs were burning from you sitting tightly so your knees wouldn't brush, and your resolve to stare at him until his exploded was dwindling
with a huff you relaxed and felt your knee nudge his and cried a little inside but dealt with it
When the train arrived you got up and walked out of the seat before he could and went to your bus stop
sitting at the bend you felt a tap at your shoulder and looked up
GASP it was sunglasses! without sunglasses!
GASP why was sunglasses kinda hot!?
GASP wait why sunglasses here?!!!
Sunglasses smiled a bit and put his hand out "I figure I'd introduce myself, since we had such a lovely time on the train together, I'm Chenle"
you could feel how wide your mouth was hanging in disbelief and you stared at the surprisingly well manicured hand in front of you
but deciding against your morals, you shook his hand and introduced yourself
"nice to meet you Y/N, you wouldn't mind if we sat together on the bus right"
Jisung
The train during rush hour was a fucking nightmare, your class ended at 4:50 and the only line that could take you to your apartment from the university is the most popular one
when the door open you pushed in to the train and literally no seats were open.
you gripped the railing and tried to widen your stance a bit to keep stability
the train started and apparently the conductor was having a bad fucking day because he was fucking stomping on the breaks
each stop jolted you so aggressively that you feared for your life and dignity if you were to fall on this here train
after about three stops of fighting for you life, your hand was beginning to be slip from the sweat on the railing and your arm was throbbing from tensing for the last 20 minutes
all of a sudden the conductor hits the break once
...your hand slipping from the railing
and then hits it again a second time
.........you lose your footing
you fall backwards and close your eyes waiting to land embarrassingly on your ass.
instead............
you fall on the seats behind you
you feel a hand out of instinct grab your waist to stop you from falling more and another hand goes on your thigh to stop your legs.
opening your eyes you make eye contact with someone.....who honestly looks more scared/embarrassed than you are??
He looks like a guy around your age and is staring at you with these dark eyes as if you were taking your last dying breath in his lap
"are you okay" he asks sounding... once again more embarrassed than you were!???
"I'm okay! thank you!" you say still sitting bridal style in his lap
neither of you moves
like he still is deadass cradling you right now in public
"uh can I get up...?" you say and you watch his face flush red all over
"OH yeah, I'm so sorry" he says unhanding you
you stand in front of him and grab onto the loop in front of him
and..... you both spend the rest of the train ride avoiding eye contact because you both turn red when you do meet eyes.
______
im going to proofread later pls excuse if it seems like im illiterate
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nagumoan · 7 months
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NOTES: This is a little birthday present for my sweet angel, @sixeyesgojo!
It's a little shorter than I wanted it to be but I hope this sweet little treat finds you well regardless! Happy Birthday, my love!
SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend might just be the most annoying, yet sweetest man to ever exist
CONTENT: established relationship, fluff, kissing, food, nothing but softness! Not proofread!
WORD COUNT: ~ 950 words
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Satoru has a nice voice.
The way he emphasizes certain words within his sentences makes his pattern of speech feel so much more animated and lively. Whenever he teases you, his voice gets a little deeper in a way that sends shivers down your spine.
If the both of you stay up for longer than usual, you get to witness how his voice fails him mid-laugh, producing a noise that etches its existence into your mind for the following week, and ends up being spun into a running gag.
The only time you don't appreciate his voice is when it is the very thing that rips you out of your peaceful slumber.
The familiarity of it prickles at the back of your mind and you let out a soft hum. It's enough to let him to know that you heard him, too little for him to confirm that you are actually understanding anything he is saying.
"I'm just gonna squeeze in," he decides, lifting the blanket you're lying under just enough for him to slip underneath. Enough for him to destroy the climate you've carefully been cultivating in there. The cold wind that enters your self-built domain pulls a displeased sound from your lips.
"Shh, it's alright. Sorry," Satoru whispers, his arms wrapping around you to pull you against his chest. He's wearing that black hoodie that you love so much on him. It makes him look so comfortable that you always end up having to bury your face against it while you cuddle.
"You smell good," you mumble tiredly. The smell of expensive cologne is faint on his skin and he smells sweet. Matching his scent with his favorite desserts is one of your many talents but today he smells a little different. You pay it no mind, chalking it up to your sleep-muddled brain.
A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he cups your face with both hands, gently running his thumbs over the high points of your cheeks. "My poor, tired baby," he mumbles in a voice one might use to talk to a beloved pet or a child.
Usually, you'd hit him but you've barely managed to survive a long day at work and frankly, there's not much of a fight left in your bones.
Your eyes are still closed, the task of opening them simply too big to tackle but that doesn’t matter much. Satoru leans lower, pressing his forehead against yours. No fabric separates your skin.
It's only then, that you feel compelled to open your eyes and you're rewarded with pools of neverending blue. "There you are," Satoru teases and it's so soft, so packed with sheer fondness that pulls on the corners of his lips until his cheeks are dusted a soft pink, that you feel you might melt out of the holes of your pajamas, which were meant for your limbs.
No need for those when you feel this limbless.
Yet, that doesn't fully please you, who is still put off by the fact that he's waking you up at-
You squint at the little digital clock on your nightstand.
- five minutes past midnight. "You're ridiculous," you groan, the desire to sleep still thrumming in your head, right behind your eyelids. Satoru merely laughs, leaning in to brush his lips against yours so softly, that if you were any more tired than this, you would have mistaken it for a figment of your imagination.
"It's more ridiculous to forget your own birthday, silly thing."
So that's his reason.
Huffing softly, you pull yourself out of his hold on your face and instead, rest your head on his chest. "It's not that important."
"It is to me!" he argues, his voice still soft despite the mock offense his words are laced with. "How could you say that?" your boyfriend laments, hugging you close to his chest, his hands finding purchase on your lower back and at the back of your neck respectively. His thumb runs over the skin of your neck as he holds you close. He's warm.
"Happy birthday," is murmured sweetly against the crown of your head, and a soft smile tugs on your lips as he continues, "Thank you for being born and finding your way into my life."
It's quiet for a moment and your arms around his middle squeeze him a little closer. Basking in his warmth and his scent, you finally figure out what that smell is.
"Did you buy cake?"
Satoru holds back a laugh when you suddenly sound much more awake out of nowhere. "I baked it myself," he tells you proudly.
Looking up at him, you make sure to wait for his gaze to meet yours before you shoot him an awkward grimace, telling him, "Never mind then..."
He gasps, clutching at his chest with one hand as he acts like he has been fatally shot. "I pour my heart out to you like this after slaving away in the kitchen for you and this is how you repay me. I put all my love into that cake."
Letting go of you, he slumps against the sheets dramatically, draping himself over the bed in a fashion akin to those extravagant ladies in period dramas. You snort, climbing out of bed.
"Come on. Let's try that cake you made."
He raises a brow at you as you stand before him. Due to him laying on his back, you're upside down, and reaches out to try and grab you. You evade his hands skillfully.
"I thought you didn't want to eat it?" he asks, slowly getting up as well.
Huffing, you leave him behind as you walk into the kitchen, mumbling to yourself, "I am just curious to know what your love tastes like."
-
The cake ends up being almost too sweet. 
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kiaxet · 11 months
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So it turns out the latest update in @somerandomdudelmao‘s apocalypse comic has been living in my head, and when that happens I need to get it out, so ~900 words of sad it is!
~~~~~~~~
Donnie is good at birthdays. He has been once he was old enough to understand the concept. It's a point of pride.
Specifically, he's good at presents. According to his data, most people who fail at presents do so because of the guesswork they seem to think needs to be involved. He's never understood the point of that. Data and hypotheses, certainly, but why guess when a definitive answer is available after a simple direct inquiry?
"What do you want for your birthday?"
Early on, the presents are easy. Art supplies. Comics. Stuffed animals. Things he could hand to Papa in an easily followed list format, or obtain for himself once they all got old enough to start safely leaving the lair and venturing into the city above. It's simple and straightforward and so, so easy to get right.
(Of course, he always has an annotated list of his own desired gifts to provide to his brothers; if he's solved the guesswork issue, he may as well make things easy for them too. Plus, that method ensures he gets what he wants.)
Things start getting a little more complicated as he and his brothers get older. Art supplies and comics and stuffed animals are still very much appreciated, and he's documented his brothers' tastes well enough to know exactly what they like, but the answers to his simple direct inquiry are different.
"Dee, can you help me plan this mural out? I think I have enough space, but I could use a hand with the measurements."
"Donton, my half of the day is gonna be a Jupiter Jim marathon, and I need you there. Without your laptop." A beat. "But you can pick one of the movies if you want."
"Hey Donnie, you think you can help me out fixing up the gym? Things just stay put longer if you weld 'em."
After a few years of documentation, Donnie spots the pattern. His brothers appreciate physical gifts from him, certainly, but that's not what they want anymore. What Donnie's family wants from him is time - time outside the lab where he spends a good amount of his days, time spent in conversation or shared activity or simply in the same room. It's not as easy as finding the right physical gift, but if that's what they want, then he's more than happy to provide. Now that he's discerned the pattern, it's just as easy to give his brothers what they want, and Donnie can continue to maintain that he is Good At Birthdays as a point of pride.
~~~~~~~~
The Hamatos don't do birthdays anymore. There's no time in the apocalypse, no supplies, and Donnie is one of the few who actually keeps track of the calendar date. The apocalypse certainly has its share of anniversaries, a list that only grows the more people they lose, but birthdays are no longer celebrated.
With one exception.
Casey Jones Junior, their collective adopted kid, is young enough that birthdays still matter - should still matter. They do their best to keep him safe and keep those days calm and happy for him, despite everything happening around them, and while they don't always succeed, they at least try.
And damn it all, Donatello is still good at birthdays.
"Casey Junior!" He greets the kid with a grin, leaning on his bo like it's not both an inconvenience and a humiliation to need to rely on it in order to stay upright.
"Uncle Tello?"
"Since I'm not very good at guessing, I'll ask straight out." This is not entirely true - he has a list of potential gifts for Casey drafted, with 98% certainty that whatever Casey asks for will align with one of them - but he requires that confirmation to move forward. A certainty in a world where certainty is in short supply. "What do you want for your birthday?"
"My...ah." Casey's expression falls and he looks away, gaze fixed on the paperwork in his hands. Donatello says nothing, pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room in order to give Casey space. "You...can do anything," Casey starts.
"Pretty much, yes." Material issues aside - spirits know he'd have a cure for whatever the Krang had infected him with if those weren't a concern.
"I want you to stay alive," Casey says, and Donnie's smile freezes in place as Casey looks back up at him. "Can you do that?"
Damn that two percent uncertainty.
"Ah. Of course." He shrugs, as though he doesn't know exactly what Casey is asking for, and pulls up a holographic display of a calendar. "According to my calculations, I will be alive next month, which means I'll be here for your birthday." Not talking about it won't solve the problem, but it may salvage this conversation. "So! What's an actual gift you want?"
"I want you to be here." Casey's gaze finds a point on the floor, and Donnie falls silent. "Not just for a month."
No. No, he needs something concrete - something he can act on - he knows how long his list of responsibilities is, but he still feels stymied, rushing up on the end, and he needs something he can do- "But it's not a gift," he replies, a last-ditch effort he's fairly certain is bound for failure-
"No. No, it is."
As always, all Donnie's family wants from him is time.
And now, at the end of his rapidly-shortening life, it's the one thing he can no longer give them.
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Spoilers ahead:
So, as it is commonly accepted, and talked about in the manga: Laios prefers monsters to humans.
Laios does not care for the complexities of humanity - this is probably due to his autism, and his lack of ability to read people. From a child, he didn't understand why everyone hated his sister. In adulthood, he faced issue with Toshirou, because he didn't realize his "fake" politeness. Later on, he doesn't pick up on Kabru's desire to be friends until they pointedly say it.
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This brings me to my next point... Why monsters? Why did Laios not become introverted? He could have easily left the army and started a bakery. He could have lived through others in a merch shop. Why was his fascination with the fantastical consume him? (Note: to a point him and falin did, if daydream hour is considered canon, Laios did join a travelling caravan and lived a "normal" life.)
INTRODUCE MY MAIN POINT!!!!!
LAIOS AND HIS CHILDHOOD DOGS!!!!!!
Even to his parents, Laios never felt like he could properly confide in them, thus he turned to the farm life he grew up with. Things that don't talk back, but listen attentively. His father, who was the town mayor, and his mother, who was pregnant at the time, possibly had little time to tend to him. It could also be due to his lack of socialization, which we don't know much about at this age, but we can later see that he never quite fit in with the town's children.
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However, Laios doesn't continue to treat these animals as "inanimate objects", things that will listen to him without any response. Soon, animals become "people".
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A boy who was rejected socially found family in dogs; thus they taught him much of what he knew. His behaviourisms make a lot more sense, I feel like, if you look at it this way. Dogs are blunt creatures - when they're mad, they bare their teeth. When they're in a good mood, they wag their tail and show their belly. Compared to humans, who you have to deeply analyse their smallest twitch of a brow, it's outright confusing.
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But, in the end, Laios cannot hate humanity because he loves his friends. This group he's collected are all people he cares for, equally as much as his sister. Even in the perfect world - a world consumed by the dungeon - Laios does not have a desire to see his friends harmed.... because they are "simple" people.
Chilchuck is outspoken. He's not afraid to growl and snap his teeth, though he struggles with the secrets of his life, and is tight with his affections.
Senshi? He's one of the few who actively support Laios' interest in monsters. He offers advice without cruelty, and anything he says is always genuine and with the best intentions.
I think that Marcille is easily understood by both the Touden siblings due to this. She shows her distaste easily, and her emotions seem to pour out of her. You always know what Marcille is feeling. I think Marcille reciprocates that feeling: As confusing as his desires for monsters might be, she knows Laios will always be there for her. They are a pack. I found it interesting out of all the desires he might feel, he wanted Marcille to be safe and happy. And I would argue it wasn't simply due to the string of the manga, having Marcille as the previous dungeon master. It's a long build-up of their friendship: From the succubus scene to curing Marcille's nightmares.
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zoyasribbon · 5 months
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DOMESTIC DELIGHTS — r. dias
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ೃ࿐ summary : The moments spent with your family, they are the most precious in your life, a pure delight that bring solace to your soul. And on this specific Sunday afternoon, this one, you are poised to savor every bit of it.
ೃ࿐ words : 0,7k.
ೃ࿐ genre : mature. fluff. suggestive.
ೃ࿐ warning : cute daughter-father moments, sexual tension.
ೃ࿐ author's note : Despite my deep disdain for Man City (while I do acknowledge Pep's genius football philosophy), I must confess—I find myself particularly attracted to some players... and a certain 6’2 Portuguese center-back has managed to steal my heart. Ugh, what can I sayyyyy, what can I sayyyyy.
You were drawn by the soft, deep chuckles emitted by your husband, guiding you towards the entrance of the living room, where you discreetly pushed the door ajar. 
There he was.
Rúben. 
Dressed in his black Puma sweatpants and a simple, white undershirt, he was doing push-ups with your little daughter perched on his broad, muscular back. Her cheerful, high-pitched voice counted his progress as he effortlessly raised and lowered his body multiple times. You observed them tenderly: the pure joy and trust of your child blending with Rúben's extraordinary strength and patience. Home.
If he noticed you leaning against the doorframe, he said nothing... and you couldn’t help but admire his new three-day stubble beard, a bit more developed than usual, complementing his charming face. 
Suddenly, he twisted to one side, landing on the floor while effortlessly lifting your excited little girl with his sturdy arms before gently placing her on his firm stomach. A timid chuckle escaped your lips at this heartwarming sight. But this gesture didn't deter him from maintaining a somewhat intense gaze that met yours, igniting a fire within you.
"Go play in the garden, princesa. I'll do a few more and then join you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. As his words prompted her to dash out of the room, flashing you a mischievous smile in passing, the room fell into an almost oppressive silence. Only Rúben's erratic breathing and the sudden accelerated beats of your heart seemed to animate the space. 
He eventually raised himself from the floor, taking his sweet time to stand, his brown eyes never leaving your burning gaze for a second. 
Rúben's smile took on a different shade as he crossed the room to approach you, leaving only a few brief inches between you. His arms, marked by the effort, found support on the wooden doorframe, not far from your head, asserting his dominance in height. 
In the depth of his gaze, you discerned the glint of a tantalizing promise.
"You didn't have to stop, you know?" you innocently scolded, letting your right hand wander from his neck, to his left flank and to his hip. You made sure your nails lightly grazed his skin through the thin white fabric, intending for him to feel your provocation. As you did, you sensed a trickle of sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to his still-toned abs, evidence of his numerous push-ups. 
In just a few seconds, his body responded. Engulfed in goosebumps that hinted at desire, Rúben's eyelids trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Though your line of sight didn't reveal it, you were certain that his fingers fervently clutched the doorframe, evidenced by the emerging veins on his glistening shoulders. 
He was on the verge of losing control. The mere thought elevated the corner of your lips into a sly smile, concealing the pleasure you took in this little teasing game. You must admit, you were very in the mood to play today. After all, Rúben simply had no business being so sexy on this delightful spring afternoon. 
Your right hand, still placed on his hip, dared to venture even further beneath the fabric of his black tracksuit to bring him even more closer to you and explore the skin of his lower back and his firm bottom, leading him to open his mouth slightly, letting out a timid gasp. 
Unable to resist the excruciating slowness of your caresses, he leaned forward, daring “Why? Do you want to keep watching?” he managed to inquire with an innocent tone, though mischief lingered within. 
His alluring, plump lips so close to yours beckoned, yet you resisted the temptation they promised... at least for the moment. You knew what he expected from you at this moment, but you just wouldn't comply. You were far too determined to win this battle. 
Nevertheless, the warm breath escaping his mouth was enough to slightly distract you. In that moment, you even forgot your somewhat disheveled appearance—your hair was in a messy bun, and you still had your apron on, still warm from the breath of the oven you had opened to check the crumb-topped salmon you were preparing. 
This seemed not to bother Rúben, whose gaze remained just as fiery and thirsty. His fingers sought revenge, gently sweeping aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen during your observation, trailing across your cheek, your neck, before finally resting on your nape. Then his entire hand delicately settled upon it. Your eyes were nearly completely mesmerized by the movement of his lips. Ruben's voice became huskier and smoother. “Or maybe you want a turn too."
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theemporium · 8 months
Note
Hi, there.
I would love to read about Daniel proposing to Sunshine 💗
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
He didn’t even have a fucking ring.
Daniel was unprepared beyond imaginable. He didn’t even plan to propose that day, he didn’t even think as much when he woke up that morning. He simply kissed you, murmured a quiet ‘I love you’ before he headed out for his morning gym session and a day full of meetings with the team.
You had been working from home that day, happy to stay in comfy clothes and look over data with Salem curled up on your lap. You had vaguely told him that you might pop over to the grocery store to pick up some essentials you were running low on, but all in all, it was a mundane day for the both of you.
It hit him when he received a message from you. You were buzzing for him to come home, excited to show him a surprise you had bought earlier in the day. You were so giddy and happy, it made his chest tighten.
When he walked through the front door of your shared apartment, he was greeted by Salem first who was already purring at his feet, rubbing his head against his legs until Daniel finally caved in to scratch his head.
“Sunshine?”
“In here!”
He dropped his bags by the floor, sliding his shoes off before he passed through the apartment towards the kitchen. When he made his way into the room, you quickly turned to him with a massive smile on your face.
“Gonna show me this surprise, baby?” He teased, watching the way you were practically vibrating to show him.
Your eyes were glimmering when you lifted the surprise to show him, like a child on Christmas. “Look at it!”
You started rambling about the small appliance you had found at the store. It was an air diffuser, one of those fancy little machines you put water and essential oils in to make the place smell nice. But this one was designed like a small volcano, the diffused air coming out like little puffs of smoke in an explosion.
And yet, for such a simple thing, you were practically over the moon. You were eager and animated and so excited to show him, and it just hit him deep in the chest how domestic the whole situation was.
It hit him how simple and sweet the moment was. That even after so long together, something as simple as sharing a cool device you had got at the store with him got you so excited. It hit him just how happy he was to hear you ramble on about stupid, small things. It hit him that he wanted to listen forever.
“—and I ordered some fancy oils off Amazon that I thought we could try—”
“Marry me!”
Your words came to a screeching halt as you stared at the boy in front of you, blinking a few times like you weren’t quite sure you heard him right.
“What?” You whispered, almost breathlessly.
“Marry me,” he repeated again, almost as breathless as you were.
Because the thing was that Daniel had thought about marrying you, far more than he cared to admit. You two had discussed the conversation of marriage multiple times, you were both on the same page. But Daniel had spent countless nights thinking about marrying you. Hell, he knew he was going to marry you after the second date.
He always thought he would find the right moment to propose. That he would talk to his mother, get some advice on finding the perfect ring for you before whisking you away to a dream location where he would propose with a planned speech about how much he loved you.
Instead, he was standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment, not a ring in sight, with just an overwhelming desire to call you his wife, to marry you and be with you for the rest of your lives together.
To spend a lifetime listening to your random little rambles about the smallest of things.
“Marry me,” he repeated one more time as he stepped forward, as he reached for you. “Marry me and spend the rest of your life with me. Marry me and buy every single damn thing in the world just so I can hear you talk about it. Marry me. Be with me. Let me love you the way you’re meant to be loved forever.”
“Daniel,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.
“I don’t have a ring,” he murmured as he swallowed back the emotions laying thick in the back of his throat. “And this is probably not the best proposal in the world but I’ll get you the best fucking ring in the world, whichever one you want and I’ll—”
You didn’t waste another second before you grabbed his face in your hands, pulling him towards you until your lips were pressed against his. Daniel sunk into the kiss in seconds, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you until your body was flush against his.
“I don’t care about a ring,” you murmured against his lips. “I wanna marry you too.”
Daniel could feel his grin grow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you grinned back. “Gonna make you Mr Sunshine.”
Daniel snorted. “Guess you have to get me a ring then.”
“I’ll get you one of those candy ones,” you joked.
“Perfect,” he murmured before he leaned in to kiss you again, a little more loving and a little less feverish. “I’m still gonna get you a ring, Sunshine. Gonna find the most perfect ring for the most perfect girl.”
Your cheeks flushed in response. “Who gets to marry the most perfect man.”
“We make a great couple,” he commented, still holding you tight against him. “Mr and Mrs Sunshine.”
You laughed. “Mr and Mrs Sunshine.”
.
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tasty-ribz · 2 months
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I really love your art! Was wondering though - if Secondo is a bunny dad and Copia is a rat dad, what cute animals are Primo and Terzo raising?
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PRIMO he doesn't 'have' any pets, because he simply
doesn't believe in owning any living being. You can only gain trust and friendship, but never own living creature like an object. Years ago he rescued a wounded by fox raven and raised it from little chick. Now he has trusted friends in it and its whole family. He gives them food and attention they give him loyalty and sometimes gift him with something shiny or in their minds something valuable
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TERZO As a young adult had trouble finding his purpose or place in life, then he found little kitten in the garbage and as we know 'one's man trash is another man's treasure'. They were inseparable from day one. Now his little Princess is an old and very spoiled lady (over 20 yo). She never had the need or desire for hunting and she gets along surprisingly well with rodents, especially Secondo's bunny and finds comfort in her warm body during their long naps
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theship-thewalrus · 11 months
Text
Avoidance || Benedict Bridgerton
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benedict bridgerton x reader
secrets are uncovered as you confront Benedict about avoiding you
word count: 848 words reading time: about 4 minutes warnings: none
It had been some time since you had seen or heard anything from Benedict. Considering you believed the pair of you were relatively close this sudden cold shoulder surprised you. What could cause this sudden change in demeanour? Had you done something? Said something? You could not stop the thousands of possibilities of what you might have done to flood your head.
You had given him space for some time, in the hopes whatever it was would pass and you both may return to normal. But it seemed time had not wavered the cold shoulder you received. Thus, in an attempt to find an answer to your burning question, you confronted the man. No longer would you wait for him to come to you.
"Benedict, wait."
Finding in the crowd of a ball you attempted to confront the man. You deserved an explanation for his actions. No longer being able to live in the dark. Yet, it seemed Benedict was not ready to talk to you. The man weaved through various people that danced or talked. In the word of people, you were determined not to lose him. Twisting through the small gaps between people you followed the man, keeping an eye on where he was walking.
It was not long until you followed him out into the night. The cool air nipped at your exposed skin, forming goose bumps on the skin. Though this cold air would not deter you from your mission. You had set your mind to this and you would not see yourself backing down.
"Benedict, please, just tell me what I can do to make this right."
Your voice was pleading as it carried in the wind as you remained a few paces behind him. Benedict simply strung you along to where ever he desired to go. It was deep in the gardens that Benedict finally decided to stop this little game of chase. Between large hedges, trees and flowers. The sound of the music inside was now fair behind you both, only the faint tune of the trumpet could be heard.
The large moon above you both was the only light that was provided for this meeting in the dark. For a moment you worried about what others would think if they were to stumble across you both. At night. Uncharpored. Alone. You would be ruined. There was so much on the line for you to simply try to get a few words from Benedict and it angered you.
"Tell me what I have done. Please. I can make this right, I swear it. Why have you been avoiding me?"
Your voice was louder than you expected. It shocked you when Benedict whipped around to face you, having half expected the man to simply pretend you were not here. He seemed conflicted. His eyes held an inner struggle. Reaching out like one would a wounded animal, you took Benedict's hand in your own. Carefully running your thumb over his knuckles.
"Speak to me, please" "You have done no wrong. It is I that has wronged you."
His response shocked you. To your knowledge, he had not done anything that could grant you to be upset with him. Was this truly all about something he believed he had done to upset you? It seemed so stupid.
"You have not done anything. I do not understand. Stop being foolish, I-" “Every time I see you, all I can think about is kissing you and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”
The words that came from Benedict were rushed and strung together. It took a moment for your brain to process what he said as words and then another moment to truly understand those words. Kissing? You? His face was flushed, eyes not daring to meet yours. He has had many flings in the past, all of which he had the confidence of a King. But it was different with you. He did not hold lust in his heart like he did them, but he held love. A pure unfiltered love, that he only carried for you.
"I do not understand? That is why you have been avoiding me? Leaving my letters unanswered? Because you desire to kiss me?"
There was a beat of silence as Benedict struggled to form the words in his mind. You allowed him time to think, and your hand gave him a gentle squeeze.
"It is more than that... I... My.... My mind is completely entrapped by you. Every waking moment I spend thinking of you. Your smile. Your laugh. Your eyes. You have consumed utterly consumed me." "Oh, Benedict..."
Your voice trails up as you inch closer to him. A hand reached to caress his cheek as your soft lips connect with his. You felt his hand wrap around your waist, holding you as though you may slip away. He needed to know you were real and this was not all just a fantasy he had conjured up in his mind. But you were real, this was real, and he could not be more ecstatic.
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