#also itty bitty wife

[tuensartpages]

im too invested in THESE two in particular

[cubbihue]

What would Peri’s power level be if he didn’t have his inhibitor/stabilizer wand and just went apeshit?

While Cosmo deals with too much magic in his body, Peri suffers from a slightly different issue. Cosmo has the greatest amount of magic in Fairy World. Peri is incapable of regulating his magic.

Peri cannot, not then as a child and not now in the present, control his magic. Without his inhibitor, he can easily destroy an entire realm- just as he nearly destroyed Earth as a baby. This fact has not changed, although it is less plausible today than back then.

Peri's taken extra measures in the present-day to ensure it cannot happen.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

Instability: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[ferrarisbabygirl]

ayrton senna and alain prost during pre-season testings of the MP4/3 in jacarepaguá, rio de janeiro - brazil

[lxnarphase]

━ ❝ OH, IT'S MINIKUNA ! ❞

✮₊‧⁺...content: heian era!sukuna x wife!reader, fluff, mentions of childbirth, sukuna is an overly proud father, sukuna is whipped for his wife

✮₊‧⁺...lunar's note: based of this little blurbie and this one too !! needed some fluff with kuna bc he would love having a baby girl idc what anyone says !!! also i did my best describing the birthing process in a time accurate period but it's definitely a bit inaccurate because...i have never had a baby LOL

no one has ever seen sukuna ryomen, king of curses, wince before.

not until today, at the wrath of his pregnant wife who somehow got a hold of his fingers instead of his hand.

one of the nurses did warn him to not give you his finger and to ensure you always hold his hand. but by the gods, he swears you almost ripped his finger off.

it's cute to him, however, when you attempt to curse him out.

'gods, sukuna, i despise your entire being!'

'i know, my wife.'

'i should've never let you get me pregnant, you animal!'

'you begged for it, my wife.'

'i am never letting you bed me again, use your hand for the rest of your existence!'

'you can't keep your hands off me, my wife, no need to lie.'

but the sigh of relief, the way you instantly look down and coo once the sound of wailing filled the air...it makes him melt just a little bit.

he can't deny, seeing you in pain made him heated. it took everything in him not to kill every midwife, nurse, and lady-in-waiting in your birth room for not being able to make this process completely painless.

except chiyo. he would have to reward your personal physician for preparing you so well for this...

what did the old hag like again? wines, meats, gifts for her grandchildren back at home?

hm, yes, that would be great for her. of course, he'll say it was from you. the king of curses shows gratitude for no one.

he's pulled out of his thoughts at the hushed whispers once the other women exam the baby before following your unspoken request to hold your child.

"d-do you think lord sukuna will harm our lady for this...?"

"i hope not, surely he can make an exception, t-they both are still young and can always try for more!"

"but he's the king of curses, t-there no way he won't have a reaction!"

before he can demand what they find so important to discuss in front of you, chiyo hushes the girls with a wave of her hand, ushering the girls to help wipe off your sweat, tears, and clean off the baby—gentle like it's the finest glass, she instructs—before turning to sukuna with a knowing smile.

"well, your greatness...congratulations on having a healthy and gorgeous little girl," she hums, wiping her hands with a clean cloth before going to rinse her hands to help stitch any rips and clean you up.

the room falls silent aside from your soft little coos and the wails of your daughter as you brush the wet, fluffy hair on her little head.

all the women in the room continue to work, but it's clear they are silently waiting for his outburst.

everyone knows that a proper heir to any throne is a boy...but now, sukuna's first born child is a girl.

but rather angry, yelling, and threats to your and your child's life, the room is filled with Suku's booming laughter, which practically shakes the entire room.

instead of an enraged expression, pure delight, and excitement are painted on his face as he sits next to you on the soft cushiony bedding on the floor, his hand caressing the rounded cheek of your newborn.

"so, you've given me a girl," he hums in delight, all four of his eyes narrowing. "this will be the one who takes over my throne once i decide to step down?"

this thing, this tiny, itty bitty baby...came from you both? it's almost laughable how small this baby is compared to his hand, that something so little could be related to him.

she's...nothing short of perfect. "absolutely divine...she will not just be beautiful like her mother, but as powerful as both of us."

he's so proud of you and your child. he would shower your daughter with riches, love, and anything she could ever want and ask for.

but, he couldn't lie.

she's a damned fat baby, big head and all.

"sukuna, watch your mouth!"

he can't help but laugh, not realizing his thoughts came out of his mouth. "what, it's a good thing! means she's healthy," he boasts with a grin, leaning down closer to see her better.

"she looks strong already. as soon as she is able, i will personally teach her how to be a truly malevolent little princess, how to properly slit the necks of her enemies, how to—!”

oh, he is so excited, it's adorable.

“sukuna, shush, i just gave birth to a child with a massive head like yours, give me a moment," you say with a light laugh, your smile still reaching your clearly tired eyes.

“…apologies, my wife.”

chiyo can't help but laugh with you she finishes applying the healing ointment on your lower body, using a bit of her cursed energy to speed up the healing process to help you skip any serious pain.

after all, nothing but the best physician for you in sukuna's palace.

"always such an excitable boy, my lord, ever since you were a young man," she hums, helping one of the midwives properly wrap your baby in the soft, clean cloth.

"be gentle with her," you instruct him, gently moving your arms toward him so he could take the little bundle. he's...nervous, but he hides it well.

you place your daughter in his arms and he looks down at her, suddenly conscious of how loud he's breathing. she's got his hair, still a bit wet but soft and fluffy. it's pink, just like his.

a pleased rumble vibrates his chest, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

but then...her eyes open.

both sets.

he almost didn't notice it at first, they're just so small, but they're there. the same color as yours, pretty and big, filled with so much life.

his eyes burn, vision getting blurry. no words come to his head, he can't think of anything to say. he's so caught up in his thought he doesn't even notice chiyo ushering the other girls in the room out and shutting the door before quietly tending to you with water or food.

she knows that look, you do as well. she's been around longer than uraume to know her master, knowing the king of curses since his young years as the unwanted child of the village, abandoned by his mother for his 'horrid' appearance.

she was lucky to have found him before the villagers got to him, torches, axes, pitchforks and daggers in hand to take care of the child who they believed to have brought misfortune to their home.

getting him to safety was one of the best decisions she'd ever made, king of curses or not. no child deserved to be abandoned like that. and now, he's seeing himself in that tiny little being in his arms right now...chiyo can only imagine what he's feeling.

so, out of respect, she keeps her gaze averted, pretending she does not see the misty gaze he gives your daughter. this is a moment for you and him, and she does her best to make all her movements as quiet as possible.

all sukuna can think about in this moment is how he used to be just as tiny as this. he was just as vulnerable in his mothers arms. he couldn't talk, couldn't speak, couldn't fend for himself.

yet, his parents looked down at him just like this and decided he was an abomination and didn't give him a chance.

but now?

sukuna knows he would never, ever let anything happen to this little bundle in his arms. he would rather destroy the entire planet before letting anything happen to his baby girl. no one would make his little one suffer and live to see another day.

he flinches just a little, feeling your soft hand rubbing his bicep. "it's okay, my love," you softly coo at him, reaching up to wipe a tear from his eye before it had a chance to drip down his cheek. "she's going to grow up feeling loved and cherished because she's got a great father."

"hmm..."

a smile crosses his features as he looks back down, looking at the squirming baby so makes a little noise before calming down when he strokes her little, chubby cheek again to keep her from crying again.

"and she's got a great mother. she'll be the most wonderful princess in all of history," he says with a toothy grin, chest rumbling with a laugh.

"aww, my love, that's so sweet..."

"seriously, though, how in hells did you squeeze this thing out of ya? thing's got the head of a watermelon."

"sukuna, give me back my baby, and chiyo? get this man some food to stuff in his mouth before he says something to warrent the rage of a new mother."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!nanny!reader, married!toji ( rich toji too lmao hot take ), age gap, noncon, dacryphilia, virginity loss, heavy breeding kink, bondage, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twenty-two [ toji fushiguro + breeding ]

you probably should’ve kept your mouth shut. you should’ve bit the bullet and swallowed your pride when Toji said he couldn’t pay you any earlier than Friday for babysitting the kids. no, couldn’t had not been his word of choice. he wouldn’t pay you before Friday. Toji was loaded with cash. you’d never bothered to ask him how he made his living, but you knew that he had plenty and his massive mansion would not be snatched up by the bank if the prick gave you your well earned three hundred and twenty dollars on a Wednesday instead of a Friday.

and you’d told him so.

which had landed you in the position you’re in now.

on a few occasions, Toji or his wife had asked you to tidy up around the house and that included their bedroom. the room was massive and luxurious, with a king size bed in the center of the room. you’d seen plenty of oddities in there— handcuffs here, a flogger there, vibrators in the drawers and even a black, pleather bench with seatbelt-like straps hanging off it in the corner— but you never thought, in all the time you’ve worked for them, that you’d find yourself on your back in nothing but your bra and panties ( which were both pulled askew to expose your breasts and give him access to your core ) against the mattress, with thick, black straps on your ankles that bind them to a long, silver bar. your legs are spread wide for Toji, he has also fastened similar cuffs to each of your wrists to separate notches on the pole. his fist is wrapped around the center of the metal, gripping it tight. he seems to use it as a lever, pulling your entire body to his.

the tears are far from dried on your cheeks, though the majority of the pain from the initial insertion has dissipated, Toji is none too gentle as he ruts into you. your walls flutter about the girth of his manhood as it stretches you to a capacity you’ve never felt before. he was so big, much too big for him to have been your first, and you felt like he was ripping you apart, especially because he had no regard for how deep he was delving into you— each thrust of his hips sent him hilt-deep into a newly devirginized interior. because of this, your face remained twisted into an expression of discomfort, eyes wide with shock.

Toji chuckles through grit teeth, “What’s with the crocodile tears, slut? Wasn’t expecting I’d pop your cherry? Daddy’s cock too big for that itty, bitty belly of yours?” his dark pair coruscate in the dim lighting as his gaze travels over your stomach, pressing his free palm against the lump just below your navel, the size and shape of his cock. you mewl, head rolling about on the mattress, and your teeth sink into your lower lip; the pressure adds to the sensation of being stuffed full. “Ooh, listen to you whine for me,” he croons with faux sympathy, poking out his lower lip. “I’ll bet you’re used to getting exactly what you want with those puppy dog eyes, aren’t you? But, I gotta tell you, baby girl, daddy’s made more girls cry than just you. You really think those little sniffles are gonna work on me? Make me go easier on you?”

his hips grind into yours as he digs as deep as possible without his thick tip bursting through your belly button ( or, at least, that’s what it feels like ), and you cry out, back arching. your fingernails claw at the restraints, arms tensed unable to do much but sting.

“Ah!” it’s more a bestial growl than a sound of pleasure you’d expect anyone to make, his eyes fiery with even more desire at your wriggling. “See, feel that? How your pussy tremors when she’s gripping my cock? You can glare up at me with those cute, puffy eyes and your makeup streaked down your cheeks, but I can tell by the way that little pussy hugs me that you don’t want it gentle. You don’t want me to be nice. You want to be fucked into submission, and daddy’s more than willing to break that bad fuckin’ habit of talking back to me with my cock.”

it was almost impossible to formulate a coherent sentence, batting tears back, but they fall anyways, squirming as if to escape the cocktail of pleasure and pain, and you turn away from him, angling your countenance towards the wall instead. “W—what— what if I t-told your, ah! Your wife about this—“

the most wicked of grins contorts Toji’s lips, and he reaches through the bar and between your arms to grip your face, turning it back to force you to look up at him. “You think she doesn’t know, girl? I’ve only been planning to breed your little body since you started working for us. I just needed a good excuse to break you in, thanks for that.” he pauses, to groan and close his eyes, pace picking up as his hips begin to buck more erratically. “She thinks you’ll make a better baby factory than she ever could, and she’s more than willing to let me keep you here and fuckin’ ruin you until the only thing you want is for me to swell that little tummy with my bastards—“ even as your whimpering escalated into screams, you can hear him. your eyes close, head wanting to angle away from his grip, his palm makes contact with your cheek in a couple, quick slaps. “You can get used to being my little breed-whore, sweet girl. And don’t you worry, you’re gonna get a nice raise every time I knock you up; as long as you learn that your place is wrapped around daddy’s cock, and that pussy is for him to fill with his loads, you’re gonna be a fine new addition to this family.”

[bellesdreamyprofile]

a baby miracle: part 1

You’ve always wanted to be a mother - the thought of having a little child running around and their giggles filling the house, brought you joy and satisfaction. Whenever you went shopping with Benny (which was quite rare, since he hated shopping), you always found your way in the baby section, looking at itty bitty clothes. It was like a calling - you were sure because of your nurturing nature you were meant to be a mother.

Today’s doctor appointment confirmed what your hopes had been for the entirety of your adult years - you were pregnant. You smiled at the sweet woman and thanked her as a picture of your little baby was printed out. Endless scenarios played in your head at the idea of your happy little baby dressed in frilly little clothes. A mini version of you and Benny.

Benny.

You shakily slid the envelope with your results in your bag. Realization hit you - there had to be a bump on the road — ironically. You never discussed having children with Benny, mostly because of his lifestyle, but also because it was a topic that simply never came up.

The bag kept sliding down your shoulder as you made your way home. A glance at your watch made you realize that Benny wasn’t home yet, giving you some time to think about the way you were going to break down the situation to him.

You made his favorite steak and potatoes with a side salad and set the table. Once satisfied with the results, you looked down at your outfit and scoffed at the stain on your favorite sweater. So you made your way upstairs and took it off, though as you moved towards your wardrobe, you caught your own reflection in the adjacent mirror.

Your gaze moved on your bare stomach - you were absolutely aware that there was nothing yet, but your hand still found its way there. You gently rubbed it and closed your eyes at the feeling of burning tears building up. Prayers invaded your head, prayers of hope that Benny was going to be happy at the news - like every husband would be. 

That was when you idealized again - trying to shape Benny into the man he wasn’t. It wasn’t fair to him since he never tried to change you or your habits for his own.

The door opened, making your eyes snap open at the noise. You breathed out and hastily grabbed the first sweater you found and put it on, trotting downstairs.

His blue eyes looked up and a smile made its way on his face. “Hey baby.”, as soon as you reached him, he pulled you into his arms and placed a kiss to your temples. That was a sign that he had had a rough day at the club.

“Hey honey.”, you murmured against his chest. “Rough day?”, Benny hummed in response and you found yourself sighing, forcing your eyes shut.

“I made your favorite.”, you said and put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. He lazily smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“The steak, potatoes and the vegetables you force me to eat?”, you nodded as a small laugh escaped your lips.

“It’s a small salad that won’t kill you, honey. As your wife it’s my job to make sure that you get your daily veggies in.”, you teased, but he simply shook his head with a small smile on his lips.

“Okay.”, he shrugged. “You know what’s best anyways.”, Benny led you to the table and sat down on the seat across from yours. He wasn’t very talkative during meals, but he always had the most interesting stories before bed. Head on his chest, fingers twirling your hair and his pretty eyes fixated on the ceiling. It was now a routine.

His knife cut through the steak and his fork brought it to his lips, eyes fighting the urge to close at the taste. “Now that’s a steak.”, he complimented, glancing your way.

You gave him a small smile and sighed, questioning your ability to keep such a secret to yourself. During dinner at least.

“I don’t even mind the salad, baby—“

“I’m pregnant.”

You cut him off, your tone higher than usual. So much for holding back until after dinner. Benny’s movements stopped, his eyes set on the centre of the table, unable to meet yours.

You were already crying, salty tears rolling down your cheeks as your little secret was finally out in the world. You expected relief — anything. There was absolutely nothing worse than Benny’s silence. Even on regular days you had a hard time figuring out if he was happy, sad or disappointed.

You brushed a tear away and almost burned his skin with the way you were staring at him. “Please say something, Benny. Anything.”

His eyes snapped your way, the redness taking you by surprise. “What do you want me to say?”, he said lowly and set his knife and fork aside.

And then he said the worst thing he possibly could’ve.

“I have to go.”

At the sight of him standing up, you panicked, feeling your heart drop to the floor and shatter in millions of pieces. “N-No, Benny, please.”

Benny was quick to grab his denim jacket and put it on without giving you a second glance. Your footsteps were quicker as you grabbed his bicep.

“Please look at me, honey. Please.”, your words of plea didn’t make him budge. Your finger gently curled under his chin, turning it your way. His jaw clenched at the sight of your endless tears. Oh, but how your heart broke at the sight of his blue eyes. His nose scrunched, moving away from you again.

“I have to go.”, he said firmly, but you wouldn’t — couldn’t let him go. You couldn’t be alone in a moment like this. You had no idea on how you’d react the moment your husband stepped foot outside your home.

“No, you don’t.”, your voice was a mere whisper. “I can’t leave this situation either, Benny.”, you sniffled and brought one of your hands to wipe away some tears. “You told me. We’re a team. One doesn’t leave the other.”

At the way his own words were used on him, Benny’s blue eyes slowly met yours. A mix of red, blue and salty tears stood in front of you. Your hand slowly lifted up, caressing his cheek gently.

“I’m scared.”, the little break in his voice made you cradle his face as he leaned into your touch. “I-I won’t be a good father—“

You shook your head and pecked his lips repeatedly. A sigh fell from your lips as you leaned your forehead on his. “You’ll be perfect—“

Benny sniffled, shaking his head. “I-I won’t. I’ll fuck up and the kid’s gonna resent me for the rest of their life.”, you moved back, gazing into the eyes that always held confidence and love. Now stood a broken man in front of you.

You cleared your throat and, with a gush of courage, took one of his hands in yours. You brought it your abdomen and pressed it with both of yours. His eyes met yours again and the tears he desperately tried to keep at bay, started falling down.

“This baby—“, you sniffled. “This baby will love you no matter what. And I know that because— because I love you no matter what, Benny.”, he kept shaking his head a little as his eyes threw glances at your joined hands. “We love you because you’re you. We don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

His eyes closed as small whimpers left his lips. Heartbreak couldn’t compare to whatever you were feeling in the moment. You brought his head to your shoulder as you caressed his hair in comfort. His arms circled your body, fingertips pressed to your skin to feel your warmth — clinging to you like a baby to his mother.

As much as you convinced yourself that Benny was going to stay with you, your heart broke at his state. He never revealed too much of his past, always telling you you’re my present and future so that ain’t relevant, but it was clear that fatherhood was a touchy subject.

One step at a time, you reminded yourself. 

One step at a time.

A/N: this healed me and broke me in twenty different ways

MASTERLIST PART 2

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Dinner Distraction |

18+ Minors DNI

Dinners with Bucky’s clients can be mind numbingly boring. After trying your hardest to be good for him the lack of entertainment is getting to you, all you need is to gome with your husband but hes making it hard for you. So you play the only way you know how.

✧Pairing✧ Mafia Boss!Bucky x Wife!Reader

✧Warnings✧ alcohol consumption, Brat!Reader, Public teasing, Voyeurism (not really but to be sure), Bondage, Rope tying, Collar, Punishments, Alluding to spanking, Masturbation (M), DIrty talk, Daddy kink, Name calling, Degrading, Humilation (itty bitty), [Petnames; Dove, Angel, Whore, Brat, Baby] — I believe that is all, any more that you find please let me know so that I can add them onto this list.

✧Word Count✧ 1.5K

✧Author Note✧ The writers block has been hitting me hard so i really hope this is up to scratch because ya boy has been struggling to enjoy her own writing lmao. Also please forgive any mistakes as I have skimmed over this — I may look at it again later and fix them or I might just leave it. Who knows.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you were playing with fire. Bucky’s meals were extravagant and over the top but extremely important to his business, a long table full of men and their ladies all wishing to discuss deals and arrangements with your husband. But to you, they were like watching paint dry. You downed your third wine listening to incredibly dull trips to the Maldives or men competing passive aggressively for the title of wealthiest idiot at the table.

By the time dessert rolled around you could’ve cried due to lack of entertainment, not even Bucky’s conversation was keeping you satisfied and with no excitement seemingly on the horizon you took matters into your own hands.

“Buck” you trill into your husband’s ear, trailing manicured nails up the thickness of his thigh before he rests his veiny hand on top of it halting your path to the finishing line between his legs. The brunette turned, flashing you a soft pearly white smile and kissing your cheek, murmuring about how beautiful you looked. Just when you thought you had your man’s attention he averted his gaze back to the balding man and his much younger bride. The things money could buy

You huff, a teeny kiss wasn’t good enough. You’d have to pull out the big guns.

“Bucky” you whine in his ear, making sure your lips brushed over the shell. With a quick look at the man, he excused himself from the conversation and turned to you again.

“What is it dove?”

The sound of his deep voice rumbling out the petname sent an involuntary shiver down the length of your body.

“I’m bored”

“It won’t be too much longer Angel, then we’ll take you home alright?” He chuckles at the way you bat your eyelashes at him, your lips pushed out in a soft pout which he gladly kisses.

No, it was definitely not alright. You wanted to go home and have fun with your man now, not in an hour. With the way Gemma kept prattling on about her one hundred thousand dollar ring you were sure you wouldn’t even be cognitive enough to breathe in an hour much less do what you wanted alone with Bucky.

“But-“

His blue eyes steeled quickly, his hand squeezing yours with a looming threat,

“No buts Dove, I’m warning you.”

Bucky should’ve known you weren’t one to heed his warnings, he’d spanked your ass raw enough times for him to know that you simply did not care for his threats — in fact, you quite enjoyed the feeling of his handprint on your ass. So why would you listen to him now?

You waited until his guard was down, sipping your drink silently, pretending to listen in on another conversation while he immersed himself back in his. He didn't bat an eye when you moved your laced hands from his lap into yours, your thumb tracing over the webbing veins.

He almost choked when his fingers dipped into something wet and hot, your thighs securing around his wrist telling him all he needed to know. He stood up so quickly that his chair almost fell, startling the guests around him. His hand grabbed at your arm, slick digits pressing into it almost painfully but you only smirked. You were getting what you wanted.

“Sorry for the suddenness but my wife…” he glared over at you, the muscles in his cheek twitching sad he clenched his jaw tight, “isn’t feeling too good. My assistant will reach out to you all about our agreements and the date for our next meal.”

With a wave he commanded all of his men out of the restaurant, each suited man making their way to the blacked-out SUVs parked outside. You stumbled as he dragged you along, his hand dropping to your ass and squeezing tight.

“You are such a fucking little whore, just you wait” It should’ve been embarrassing how wet you got at his growl. The ride home was tense and silent, you remained as still as the air around you, fearing that a single movement would bring about Bucky’s wrath in the backseat of the car. Not that you would’ve minded but you liked the old driver too much to put him through something like that.

Everything blurred as the car parked outside the house, Bucky slipping out first before helping you out too. He dragged you quickly to the huge master bedroom and rummaged around the closet for a box. You gulped at its sight, it could only mean one thing.

You whine, tugging on the pretty pink rope tied expertly around your wrists and thighs, keeping them closed. The rope makes sure your wrists are tied to the length of rope around your thighs so that you can’t touch yourself or Bucky. The bell on your collar rings softly as you lurch a little closer to the man not even a foot away from you.

His legs cage you into your chair, spread wide leading up towards his leaking cock, freed from its confines and dribbling profusely over his navy slacks. He doesn’t seem to care about soiling himself though, his bored eyes bore into you, one hand rests against the side of his head while the other drums against the hardwood of the chair.

“So desperate” he tuts, chastising you for squirming around under his eyes. His thigh knocks into your knee when you move around again.

“Sit still brat. You wanted this, the second you opened that slutty mouth you were begging for it.” He chuckles darkly as you hang your head at the nickname, hiding the deep blush on your cheek and glossy, lust-filled eyes. Bucky had spent years studying you, he could read you like a book; your body may as well have been his own he knew it that well.

The brunette gripped your cheeks in a bruising vice, forcing you to look up at him with pouted lips. Your faces were so close that your nose brushed against his, whining deep in your throat bubbling forth at the minimal contact.

“You keep those fucking eyes on me, at all times. Or I’ll bring out the paddle” he warns and you whimper at the thought. A long dark leather paddle Bucky only used when you misbehaved, he knew you hated it with a passion, not because it hurt but because it didn't have the right shape — you much preferred Bucky’s handprint against your cheek than that thing.

“Aww, don't want the paddle?” He mocks, pouting his lips before laughing and pushing you back into the chair by your face. “You better behave then slut.”

He groans as his big hand wraps around his length, sucking his lip into his mouth at the little pleads and whimpers you let out when he began to jerk himself slowly, almost too slowly but he knew how much you hated it when he played with himself. Especially if you couldn’t help.

“Da-“ you mewl, slumping into your seat when the only response you receive is a sharp grunt as his hand twisted over his raging red tip.

“Fuck baby feels so good. Wish it was your hand — mmm yeah. But bad girls don't get what they want, do they? And I know you fucking want this.” He continued cursing and moaning. His hips thrust up to meet his hand, his eyes squeezing shut and his head lulling back.

“You soaking that fucking chair angel hm? Bet you are, don't even try shaking that head — not that you could — you’re too busy drooling for daddy’s cock ain’t you?” He smiles wickedly at the soft slurping sound you made when you realised you were actually drooling for him.

“Daddy need you please, I’m sorry for teasing you but I was so bored and horny. Needed you so bad…please” you beg, your eyes wide and tits jumping as you bounced in desperation on the chair. Bucky had never met a bigger cock slut, your whimpering and begging shooting straight to his balls, sending him over the edge.

“Ohh shit, fuckfuckfuckfuck” he continued to fist his cock as white-hot pleasure seeped into his veins and out his dick, spurting all over his hand. You sob, mouth opened instinctively but you couldn’t taste it. That’s what you got for being a bad girl.

Bucky wasted no time, standing and making his way to the bathroom. When he returned he was completely clean, save for the stain on his slacks. You wanted to cry at all the cum he wasted when you could’ve had it. Your husband's hand settled on the top of your head, his worst soft and almost intelligible as he cooed his praises.

“There we go angel you did so good” you preen at his sweet nothings, nuzzling your head into him. “But daddy’s still gotta teach you a lesson okay?” With a swift tug, the ropes fell from around your wrists and thighs. He gave you a little minute to rub any pain from them before ordering you around again.

“Turn around, hands on the back of the chair and stick that pretty little ass out for me” he spoke, grunting at the sight of you sitting all obediently, one of his hands spread your cheek wide, giving him the perfect view of your creamy folds.

“Such a horny little baby. That’s alright Daddy will help soon.”

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page i have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fix please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what i read and give me motivation to write more.

[qtboni]

Hello, I hope you are having a great day.

I haven't been able to get Slasher König and his reading wife out of my head for days. It's a scenario where he comes home from killing someone and asks his wife if she's proud of him, to which she says yes and some HUGE obscenity ensues.

Also if you can include something like the reader is madly obsessed with how strong König is (especially his arms) and how tall he is.

Thanks 🙇‍♀️.

A/N: hello!! this rlly took me so long to write but i hope you don't mind i made this into hcs >< can u guys tell that this is inspired by brahms from the boy 2016 😇😇

╰﹒ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 !

PAIRING: Yandere Slasher!König X Reader

C/W: MDNI. yandere vibes + mild nsfw, love obsession, gore, mentions of blood bcz m*rder, sprinkle of dubcon, manhandling, name-calling, groping, itty bitty size kink, perverted thoughts.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who marched back home to you with his hood and clothes drenched in blood, each droplet of the crimson liquid staining the pavement. The blood plopping down on the ground didn't reach his ears, nor could he smell the sweet metallic scent it gave off.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who usually has his expression blank, as it always was when he returned from a kill, had something off about it. His mouth curled into a smile and his gaze was as narrow and chilling as a predator's. God was he so glad that he got rid of that pest once and for all.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who couldn't help but to fidget everytime with the knife in his hands whenever you tell him the stories about that dumb fuck who gets into your nerves. What? He was itching to just sink his knife into that petty excuse of a human, and it was unbearable.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG whose lips slowly curved into a sinister grin as he remembered how much that dumb fuck begs for their life, to be spared. As if he would be nice, after what they've done to you. He enjoyed and relished in the sounds of their groans and cries of pain as he twisted the knife plunged inside of their chest.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who cuts their skin more as he remarked about that's what they get after betraying you, insulting you, and even had the extremes of inflicting mental damage that made you in distress every day. They had it coming.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG whose smile turned into a giddy one, blushing as he imagined the warm welcome that awaited him once he comes home to you. You, who would be overjoyed to welcome him home, would undoubtedly not raise an eyebrow at his bloodstained attire.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who went up to you from behind after he saw you cooking dinner in his favorite black sundress on with a cute little apron you have. "You proud of me, hase?" he asks into your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin, causing your thighs to clench together. "Kein Stress mehr..."

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who practically purrs when he heard you coo of a 'yes, i'm proud of you, baby,' as you laid your head against his large chest. His words dripping with a promise of bloodshed. The feeling of your body against his excited the hunter in him and he savored every inch of flesh he touched.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who got rid of the bloodstained gloves he was wearing, as to not taint your beautiful skin with blood. He didn't mind the mess himself, but he couldn't bring himself to stain you with something he considered precious.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who appreciated every part of your skin, caressing and gripping your hips firmly into his front, while groping your breasts through your clothing. His eyes twinkled with appreciation as he took in your flawless skin beneath your dress that hugged your curves perfectly.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who absolutely melts into your body from behind when you told him that you love how he's so strong, dreamily whispering how you love his big meaty arms, his tall frame that completely engulfs you, and how the mask he wears drove you mad with lust.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG whose heart was beating wildly as he thought of taking you to bed and pinning you beneath him. He relished the thought of manhandling you and taking advantage of your helplessness. He couldn't help but feel excitement and anticipation coursing through his veins as he imagined the different ways he could show his love.

⟡ SLASHER!KÖNIG who was obsessed with you, to the point of resorting to violence means to make you his. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty or covered in blood if it meant keeping you safe.

"The things I do, I do it all for you. I won't let anyone harm you, mein hübscher Schatz."

a/n: hi! if u guys know where the first fanart is from, pls tell me ty! would love to credit the owner (google and pinterest couldn't help me track down the source 😭)

[py-dreamer]

@violetjedisylveon

More fanart woo!

Y'know that scene with one of the best background medieval-village tracks in fil history- (kingdom dance) where Rapunzel looks at the mosaic? Yea this is that

Unfortunately I don't have the patience to draw all them itty bitty tiles so I kinda cheated and used a stone texture layer on top (^-^')\

YOU WON'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH TROUBLE DBK'S EYEBROWS GAVE ME.

I NEEDED TO TAKE THIS BULL TO GET HIS EYEBROWS TWEEZED MULTIPLE TIMES!!!!!

Hope you don't mind but I gave a couple more details to our favorite celestial-bull couple.

I mean Iron Fan is supposedly an empress of an empire right? Why not make her look the part? I didn't know how to bling up DBK though...

Also you might notice, I've drawn the samadhi flower! It has four big petals and four small in between (nod to the four rings) a pattern within shaped like flames (self explanatory) and a center with the 3 swirly thingy symbol (idk what it's called)

LIL BABY RED SON!!!!

They were such a joy to draw! And ngl it was hard to draw everyone not pissed off....

They all have the sharp features!

You might notice right next to the lil baboo, DBK's hands are kinda charred to a crisp (I read the 1st chapter, yes I know) but this boi is grinning like there's no tomorrow with his wife and child and we love that for him!

There's a pot of burning incense which the chinese use for the dead which I don't think the ironbull couple would like very much.

Like they'd let the townsfolk do it, they're just being respectful, but they'd still resent it in hopes that their son is still alive somewhere

and here's an un-shadowed version to see the fam better!

reblogs > likes

(click photos for less sh!tty quality)

NOT MY AU.

[valuunit]

best dad ever

summary: it’s dad’s day and harry and his family celabrate it in the most chaotic way

here in mexico today’s celebrated father’s day, so yeah, i wrote this.

Content: She/her pronouns. children lol, a itty bitty of smut, i wanted to write something but i couldn’t, im with my family 💀, food, pregnancy. oh, mommy is used a couple of times sexually, but nothing crazy. that’s it ig :)

Disclaimer: English is not my first lenguaje so if there’s any mistake i’m sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D

“c’mon guys, dad should be getting up by now.” y/n walked across the hall, standing next to the master bedroom’s door.

“we’re going mum” alisha said behind her baby brother, dereck, who was barely walking with a ballon in his little hand he was holding like his life depended on it.

she sweetly laughed and kissed her two children. “good job, wait here a minute, when i open the door we’re going to say ‘happy day, daddy styles’, alright?”

dereck laughed, showing his father’s dimples on his face, god, he was his dad in all of its splendor.

“yes mummy!”

“perfect.” she entered the room quietly, her bare feet touching the rug she and harry bought when they were moving in together to their first apartment. “harry…!” she whispered.

“hmm.” he mumbled.

“happy day, sleepyhead.” she started crawling into the bed, careful to avoid his limbs and wake him up with pain.

“oh, yeah, dad’s day. i completely forgot about it, like the rest of the world.” his green eyes were barely visible, but charming as always. his view went to his stunning wife, his words, hovering over his body.

“well, i guess i’m an e.t.” she replied closing the space between their faces.

“i guess so, your out of this world.” his hands went to her hips, sitting them in his thighs.

she laughed and kissed his cheek, then cleaning a saliva stain off of it. “you’re still a flirt, aren’t you?”

“just with you, my love” he dragged his hands up, going under her new lace pj top, passing through her spine, shoulders and back down to her ass. he smirked, giving away his intentions, but y/n didn’t.

“wai-” before she could complain a knock on the door separated them.

“well, later then.” he giggled.

“shut up!, your kid prepared something really cute for you.”

“oh, my babies.” he smiled, when someone mentions his kids his eyes light up in such warm light it’s almost heavenly.

“yes, so, act surprised.”

“mummy! a minute has passed!”

“going, baby!” y/n appeared scared of her only daughter while harry laughed so loudly dereck also did.

she quickly turned to the door, now not caring if she kicked harry’s legs or anything, which she did, right on the balls. “oof, baby!”

“sorry!” she squealed and opened the door.

“‘appy ‘ay, da’y styds!” dereck screamed.

“oh my god, good job love, but.” she laughed at the chaoticness of the situation. alisha was also laughing. “now.” she grabbed alisha by the shoulders gently and let them inside the room.

“happy day daddy!”

“‘addy haffy!” dereck jumped, jumped and landed on the bed. where harry was now seated laughing, his hands in this private area.

“my beautiful children, come here!” he opened his arms letting his daughter run towards him.

“careful!” y/n screamed when she saw alisha landing near his legs.

“come here mummy!!”

“yeah mummy, come ‘ere” harry smirked putting dereck and alisha around one arm, having space for his wife.

“going daddy harry” she went, they were happy in the bed, the ballon, which was harry’s face, floating above them, dereck still gripping it.

“what’s that honey?” with all the fuzz, harry didn’t saw that masterpiece. so he looked up, watching a not so attractive picture of him in a medium size ballon. “wow! i love it bud, thanks!” he said faking enthusiasm.

“he loves it bubba!” y/n smiled towards her son, hi smiled even more.

“i also got u something dad!” alisha went to the door, where were a plate with pancakes, that had “best dad ever!” written with nutella and berries.

“thanks honey!, it’s so pretty and sweet”

“any time, dad” alisha replied, harry laughed.

“i taught her that!” y/n said raising her hand and smiling.

“where were we?”

that’s what y/n heard as soon as she got into the bedroom after taking dereck to bed. it’s been a long day of celebrating, so it was relatively easy.

“hm?” she pretended not to have heard, turning around and quietly locking the door.

“i said…” he kissed her shoulder. “where. were. we.” kiss after kiss he was progressively getting closer to her soft spot at the back of her left ear.

“ahm” even with his kissed it was hard to think for her, “i don’t recall… anything.”

“i could make you remember, or maybe you’ll prefer me to left your pretty little mind in blank.”

she turned to face his beautiful, handsome husband. looking at her with as much love and desire as he looks at authentic tiramisu.

“i like the second one better, but first i should tell you something.” she took his cheek and kissed him passionately, slowly and lovingly.

“whatever you need” he said after a couple of minutes. they joined their foreheads, looking into each other’s eyes.

“i’m pregnant, three weeks.”

she smiled so sweetly in response to his reaction. his whole face fell in utter shock, his hands, shaking, took her face and his eyes searched for every bit of honesty his wife had to offer.

“my love, a-are you kidding?” she shook her head no, a couple of tears going down her face into her wide smile.

“that’s, that’s amazing, thank you, thank you, for everything.” he hugged her, lifted her, spun her, loved her.

“yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. now, where were we?” she smirked, her hands in his face.

“no, love, what about the… you know, thingy…” he replied looking at her stomach.

she laughed, hard. “c’mon, you promised leaving me watching stars, now you do it. it will be fine, it’s smaller than a pinhead.”

“you’re so hot, love. before we do anything else can i thank you again?”

“of course. with an orgasm.”

“your wish is my command, mommy.”

[melancholicstation]

𓊆ྀི󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 ARCHITECTURAL DIGEST: OPEN DOOR! - a jack schlossberg one-shot. 𓊇ྀི

summary: your open door architectural digest interview with your husband jack schlossberg takes an unexpected, and downright sensual turn in your shared kitchen over the most innocuous citrus fruit. note: this is part of the husband!jack schlossberg universe, here are other works with wife!reader and husband!jack: like an american, husband!jack hc's, and comfort husband!jack hc's

warnings: orgasm denial (male), cunnilingus, smut, 18+

words: 1,830

"Hi AD, We're Jack and Y/n, welcome to our house"

Filming for Architectural Digest, as glamorous as it might look from the illustrious glow of a MacBook screen, was not all it cracked up to be. AD had been relentless in their pursuit, contacting both you and jack's agents on more than one occasion proposing the opportunity for you guys as a couple to be featured on their open door celebrity series.

Initially as a couple you had turned the opportunity down, with Jack working tirelessly on the campaign and you being busy with negotiations on your new book deal: it just wouldn't have worked. But after your wedding, which was featured in Vogue, the title "The Bride Wore Vintage John Galliano And The Groom Wore JW Anderson. Inside Their Cape Cod Ceremony" The open door offer came around once again and it came at just the perfect time.

A few weeks back you and Jack had been getting back into the grove of normal life after returning from an illustrious three week honeymoon in the Greek Cyclades: a honeymoon spent in mostly nothing—bar itty-bitty specs of linen as makeshift bikini's, and gucci by tom ford beachwear.

Getting back to AD, you'd woken up before Jack: which was funny because when you first entered the relationship Jack was always the one who got up early, maybe you've been a bit of a bad influence in that department. Nevertheless you spend about five to ten minutes neglecting to wake Jack up: instead opting to trace the sepia hairs littering the top of his neck while quietly leering at his chest hair—looking like an absolute creep, but I mean, he was your husband after all so—that's gotta minus at least 15% of the pervy factor, right?

When he did wake up—and subsequently clocked your staring contest with his chest, he proceeded to lean over like a total and utter drama queen to piously cover himself with the sheets like a 30s model getting a tasteful nude portrait of herself to give to a lover.

You neglected to do any makeup only choosing to smear some P50 lotion on you and Jack's face—you swore he was like a toddler sometimes always wanting to mirror whatever weird shit you put on your face. Once the hair, makeup, and stylist team for AD got there you and Jack were effectively separated for the next few hours, which you did not hear the end of via jack's incessant complaints about the distance between him and you over iMessage and many, many unhinged gif selections sent to your iPhone.

But alas, you two were reunited for the open door interview and it started off generally normal...

First, you two were situated on the front steps of your townhouse and asked when and why you chose the house,

Jack started for you, "We moved here about five years ago, and it was the second house we both had looked at ever in our whole lives, and it so happens that it was the first house we ever bought as a couple"

"Seems clandestine to me", the interviewer cheerily replies to which you both glance at each other playfully while he speaks.

Taking the hint to speak up, you share what drew you to the home adding, "I love the city, but I also love wood and I love light and I love antiques, so I just fell in deep love with the place. For us it struck the perfect balance of being in the city while not feeling like the city was breathing down your back all the time, it can be hard to find a place like that here."

Making your way into the apartment, you and Jack were told to take a short break for about 2 minutes while the videographer got a good layout of the place, and scoped out the best lighting angles to capture it.

Your home occupies the first floor of a Meatpacking District block, and is a few blocks away from the Hudson River—which more than encourages your Husband's borderline addiction to paddle boarding. But, hey you routinely get to see your man walking home in an ultra-tight swimsuit sopping wet, so who were you really to complain about such things?

Despite loving the city, you found yourself devoted to the charm of those old French farmhouse interior's that you'd looked at in your mom's old magazines. And it felt particularly poignant to you guys as a couple—being that your first couple of dates were in the south of France.

You and Jack didn't want the space to come off as just another midcentury modern sterile, ultra-functional flat. So, you opted for sheetrock to be removed from the walls and ordered a large pair of antique door double doors for the living space off 1stdibs.

Just as abruptly as the break had started, it subsequently finished and the cameras began rolling once again. The interview dragged on until you two had finally gotten to the kitchen which was the last room and the last portion of interview.

You started the space off absolutely waxing poetic about the olive-coloured room,

"This is our little kitchen, we painted it horribly together. And then needed to implore a professional painter to fix our many, many painting faux pas." you take a breath to giggle slightly with Jack at your shared delusional confidence that you could paint a whole room successfully.

It was then Jack's time to pitch in, while the camera man did a slow zoom across the decor littering the marbled countertops—causing you and Jack to both notice a certain stone bowl containing a citrus fruit that you know for certain neither of you put there before AD came. Weird you thought, you weren't notified that set-dressing came with the interview.

Leaning on the counter Jack laments, "I love baking, I cook a lot too. I love limes"—to which he dramatically takes a lime into his hands, spinning it between his large fingers, "They're great and I love them so much, and I like to present them like this in my house."

You try not to let the emotion of total bafflement present on camera at Jack straight up lying for the hell of it about the limes being an integral part of your shared household decor—he neglects to mention that they're set dressing and that he's moderately allergic to them.

Closing of the interview you fake lead the interviewer out of the house to close out the interview, only to let them back in seconds later. The interviewer, Mark, who seems to be a genuinely sweet guy thanks you and Jack for your time, informing you that the crew should be packed up in 10 minutes, and the camera guy only needs another 5 minutes to get b-roll footage.

Once all the pleasantries have been fulfilled you lead, or rather playfully drag Jack by his crisp collared Prada button-up into your kitchen.

"Jack, I mean seriously what the hell was that, truly? I know you know you're allergic."

"M'sorry it was just too good not to pass up! I mean what kind of weirdos just but a bowl of lemons out and nothing else? it's barbaric just from a feng-shui standpoint alone!"

"Godd you're such a weirdo. Come kiss me and make it quick so I can forgot that very fact, please" you beckon him to you, placing your chin on his chest with your hands on his chin. Which, by the way is blemish-less—god, you absolutely hated men sometimes.

"Oh come on! you only kiss me cause I'm a weirdo, let's be real." Jack chuckles yet fulfils your request. He kisses you like a man starved which was quite concerning since you had only parted from him today for two hours—absolute max.

The intimacy got more and more heated until well... maybe you currently had your loafer clad feet either side of jack's head while he ate his idea of a mid-afternoon desert.

The very motion of Jack placing the flat side of his tongue against your clit sent you into an absolute. fucking. meltdown. To the point where the moans you made no longer represented someone who was cognisant that they're were about fifteen people working for AD rooms away. You try to compose yourself, which provides a stark contrast to his relentless endeavour on your clit that seem to be ever increasing.

As if to praise your restraint of volume his thumb gently strokes the inside of your thigh—up and down... and up and down. Sensing your impending climax Jack speeds his motions and adds a digit that outright seems to antagonise you—almost trying to tease a mind-numbing orgasm from you. And because you're weak in the face of his machinations, you of course do.

On your come-down you notice a glaring visitor—a quite large bulge in his pants and decide to take pity on it and by looking at the saccharine, loopy look on his face, him as well.

But you wouldn't be yourself if you didn't make him work for it at least a bit.

Continuing your motions on his bulge: feeling it's twitches and reflexes as intimately as you feel him breath while sleeping on your chest at night—

That was until the door to the kitchen was knocked upon,

"Sorry to be a bother but could you guys get that bowl of limes?—the crew is absolutely swamped trying to pack up for the road."

It was at this point in your movements on his bulge that Jack was starting to get loud, a bit too loud for your current situation, so you did the one thing that could shut him up—bar actually suspending the current movements on his mound: but that wouldn't be half as much fun would it?

Quick thinking led you to quite forcefully shoving a medium sized un-cut lime into his mouth to drown out his moans: it sure as shit worked but his puppy dog-like eyes made you feel bad for your prior roughness—you settled on a quick caress of his hair as a pseudo apology.

"Oh of course it's no trouble at all, we'll go grab it now!"

Hearing the footsteps move further and further from the kitchen you glance at Jack: a pitiful, overstimulated sight really. But a sight you deeply enjoy no less.

Picking up the bowl of lemons you grab his hands, afixing each hand to a parallel side of the stone bowl,

"Why don't you go give them back that bowl of limes you love so much and then maybe we can get back to what we were doing?"

Overcome from the intense stimulation Jack nods, willing to do anything that brings him present relief,

"Good boy" you coy, swiping off your own juices from his mouth and chin, then finally taking the un-cut lime out of his mouth.

tags: @obsessedwithjohnjr @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl @strryhaze @beloved-angel

[mychlapci]

I've heard of robot that gets off to using high amounts of processor power, like by just looking up the hardest math problems ever and going hog wild. but what I want to propose is robot that has a fetish for jiggly tits and ass and belly bc calculating the physics gets those same motors running. Jiggle physics fetish IRL. there should be an entire porn category that's just "shaking as much as possible". Cybertronians hear about twerking and they're like OHHH some things are universal constants. Anyways. I think prowl should ride a fucking machine in front of a mirror and cum super hard from the overstimulation of calculating his milkers trajectories. Also kinda want tf prime starscream going from having nothing to shake (bc seekers don't DO that), to being sparked up and unable to get Megatron's paws off his ALMOST medium sized boobs that will totally stop growing if you keep squeezing them like stress balls, primus damn it. He just doesn't realize that as soon as the sparkling is out of him, his tummy and fattened up aft will get the attention. He bitches and moans, but when he ACTUALLY starts losing the carrying weight, he starts eating double rations and does his best to get a second sparkling going. Honestly would be funny if he was trying to grow his boobs, but everything went to his thighs, aft, and stomach instead. Megatron definitely isn't complaining about it, though. Smedium breasted evil advisorwife

ahsjsbhshsh Meduium breasted advisor wife… is Starscream, by any chance, looking for a job? i offer dental.

hrhhhhh okay, oh yeah, I am always down to fatten up tfp Starscream. and we will come back to jiggle physics fetish, but for now I gotta say that i need Megatron to put a big ass baby in that twink. get him heavy and fat and growing large tits. Well, as large as Starscream’s itty bitty milkers can get. Get him fat!

[moralyquestionableblondemen]

My beautiful beautiful wife made me this stupid ass lil guy for Christmas and I wanna rip his head out and eat it. Love her. Love him. You should also be loving them both.

@itty-bitty-sunshine best wife ever love you mwa mwa mwa mwa x10.000

[fortheloveoffanfic]

An Indecent Affair: The First Encounter

Sheriff Hassan x reader

Summary: On a rainy night after a town meeting at the school, the island's sheriff and English teacher act on mutual feelings.

Author's note: Look at me, back with a terrible title.

Warning: SMUT/NSFW, unprotected sex, a smidge of dom/sub dynamics, itty bitty bit of breeding kink.

Hassan chose Crockett because it's quiet; a sleepy little island four hours off the coast of the mainland, where the most serious crime was disorderly conduct by the town drunk. After his lengthy stint at NYPD came to a messy end and his wife's passing, it seemed like the perfect place to start afresh. He could reconnect with Ali and hopefully not face the same discrimination that he had in New York.

Of course, it only took a few months for Hassan to determine that he was wrong about both of those things. Ali is still upset about his life being uprooted and the people of Crockett have been less than welcoming.

Well, most of them.

He's managed to make one friend – sort of. Hassan doesn't actually know if Y/n would call herself his friend, but she's the closest thing he has to one.

She's also his son's English teacher, which is probably why she tries to make small talk when they bump into each other around town or waves at him when she passes him while he's making his morning rounds and she's jogging.

Jogging in a pair of tiny shorts and a tank top that usually seems a little too tight on her breasts, from her arsenal of skimpy workout clothes. Those moments usually make him extra grateful for the lessons of undercover work; being able to hide her effect on him with stoicism has been more of a blessing than he'd ever imagined it could be.

Because he sees the most exciting part of that boring little island when he's doing foot patrol at seven am.

If only Y/n knew what goes on in his head when he gets to his office with the image of her like that fresh in his mind. The light sheen of exertion making her skin shine, those tiny shorts hugging her ass while the top of breasts remain visible. She'd probably slap him in the face and call him a pervert – sometimes, Hassan wants to do it to himself.

But most times, he wants to bend her over his desk and –

“God,” he hears her huff as she stops to stand beside him just as after they've stepped out of the school, “It looks like it's gonna rain.”

Turning to look at her, Hassan furrows his brows. He heard what she said, but it takes another handful of seconds for him to process her words. Because of course his mind had been run amuck with lewd thoughts when it was her turn to speak at the meeting. She'd been saying something about wanting to encourage the children to read more by starting a book club, but she was saying it while dressed in tight, light wash jeans and a green, knitted sweater that doesn't make any effort to hide her curves.

“Oh,” he glances up at the grayish, milky sky, “yeah.” He wants to say more, but nothing else comes out.

“Figures tonight's the night I decided to walk.” And then, as if on cue, a drizzle starts up, “Great, great,” Y/n hastily adds.

“I can give you a ride,” Hassan hastily offers, the words leaving his mouth before he can fully think them through.

Caught off guard by his offer, Y/n stutters, “Uh…you don't have you – I wouldn't want to put you out –”

“You wouldn't be,” he threads his fingers through his beard and adds, “just…..doin’ my duty.”

Y/n huffs a quiet chuckle, just as the drizzle grows a little heavier. Thankfully, they're both still standing on the school’s front steps, where the roof extends far enough for them to stay covered. “The sheriff doubles as a taxi service?”

Cocking his lips into a half smirk, “protect and serve.”

Licking her lips, Y/n shakes her head. “Protect me from a head cold?” She giggles and his heart leaps a little. Though it isn't really the sound that rouses that effect, even if she does have quite a melodic laugh, its more knowing that she's laughing because of him.

“Pretty serious crime in my book,” he determines softly. She turns just in time for their eyes to meet; Y/n's laughter settles with a gentle hum and her smile softens. There's a glimmer in them that he doesn't think he's ever noticed before and it takes the sudden sound of thunder, like a whip cracking before a microphone, to snap them out of their little moment.

Shaking his head a little, Hassan swallows thickly and lifts his denim jacket over his head, leaving some room for Y/n to duck under it as well. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.” He thinks that's what she says, but it doesn't matter anyway because her stepping under the cover of his coat is enough of a response. That's probably the closest they've ever been, and it takes that proximity for him to realize that she's at least a foot shorter than him – which does nothing but fuel his dirty thoughts.

It would be so easy for him to back her up against a wall. Box her in, lift her off the floor and –

“It's locked.”

“What?” Despite his jacket over their heads, they're drenched by the time they get to his car.

“The door,” she grins, pulling on the handle for emphasis, “still locked.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah,” Hassan scoffs, using his free hand to rummage through the pockets of his jeans until he finds his keys. It doesn't take long for him to help her in and then get into his car after that. “Kinda defeats the purpose of offering you a ride, huh?” He jokes, tugging the door shut after clambering into the driver's side.

Y/n doesn't offer anything above a breathy laugh as Hassan gets the car started, and when he looks her way that time, Y/n hastily shifts her gaze to the road straight ahead.

She doesn't trust herself to keep looking at him, god knows she almost let impulse overrule better sense when they were standing outside of the school and then again when they'd just reached his car.

He's the sheriff. She teaches his son Shakespeare. It's wildly inappropriate and they are decent, professional people.

Which, arguably, makes the thought of it that much hotter. The tall, hunky, jaded sheriff and the young English teacher – the raunchy story writes itself.

And that's why she turns away when Hassan fixes his dark eyes on her while starting the car. Because she'll give in that time, and they're still in the school parking lot. Because the last thing she needs is the mayor, principal, a slew of parents and some of the other teachers witnessing her lunging for the sheriff.

Besides, she won't be able to bear the embarrassment of rejection. And she'd like to not have to walk through a storm.

The drive to her house, which is just one block over from Hassan and his son's, is racked with silence and a tension that Y/n figures is concentrated to her side of the car; every time she looks over at him, Hassan seems as cool and unaffected as ever. Wet hair matted to his brow, flannel shirt clinging to his broad frame and one hand firmly gripping the wheel while his other arm is casually draped along the edge of his door.

How dare he make something as mundane as driving look like foreplay?

“All good?” Hassan quips when he catches her eyes lingering.

“What?” She swallows thickly, feeling her cheeks heat up, “yeah. Totally. Good.”

“Good,” Hassan hums, returning his gaze to the road ahead as he turns onto her street. It's coming down in buckets by then, and Y/n is actually a little taken aback by how quickly the weather has deteriorated. It's been a little overcast all day, but that's hardly unusual for October and they haven't had rain in almost a month.

Y/n keeps her eyes trained outside the passenger window for the rest of the drive, which doesn't even last for very long after his last turn. When he stops at the curb in front of her house, a simple affair with exposed brick, a Dutch gable roof arched windows, Y/n doesn't get out immediately.

“Thanks for the ride,” she finally turns to him again.

Hassan nods stiffly, fingers absently tapping the bottom of the steering wheel, “no problem.”

“I owe you….like a coffee, or something,” Y/n offers, impulsively adding, “unless you'd rather I returned the favor right now.”

Immediately, she wants to kick herself for saying it, or even better yet have the ground open up below her.

“What?” Hassan rasps, head snapping up as he shifts in his seat.

“I….” Unable to gauge his reaction under his stoicism, Y/n tries to do some damage control. “I don't know why I said that,” she shakes her head hastily, “sometimes I just say….”

“Things you don't mean?”

“Really stupid things,” she huffs.

Hassan emits a slow hum. “What exactly does that mean?” He knits his brows, as if he's thinking really hard on the matter, “return the favor.”

Dragging her lower lip through her teeth, Y/n shrugs. She's already opened the can, best just let the worms out – or whatever would be a proper reconstruction of that phrase. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

He reaches over the consoul, the warmth of his large palm permeating the wet fabric of her jeans. “I've got some ideas,” his hand glides upwards, only stopping when his fingers are close enough to brush the area right under the zipper of her jeans.

“This is very inappropriate, Sheriff,” Y/n looks down at his hand on her thigh before panning her gaze back up to meet his.

“Then you could just say no,” he suggests.

Y/n means it; it is incredibly inappropriate. She'd never slept with a parent, but then again, a parent has never looked as good as Hassan el Shabazz.

“Oh fuck it.” Hastily unbuckling her seatbelt, Y/n leans over and grabs his face. As she presses her lips to Hassan’s in a heady kiss, he grips her hips and practically drags her into his lap.

“Shit,” he mumbles when her back hits the horn, “We can't –”

“What?” She breathes, words tumbling into his mouth.

“Well,” his words are barely making it out as their lips work hungrily, and when Y/n grinds against his crotch, Hassan groans loudly and squeezes her waist. “Not in here. I can…. barely…..fucking move.”

Snorting a chuckle, Y/n finally pulls away. Her chest is racked with heavy breaths and she's still gripping a fistful of dark blue flannel on one hand. “Fair. Wanna come in?”

“Do you even have to ask?” He shoots back, kissing Y/n hard one more time before she clumsily stubbles out. She leaves the door open for him and jogs up the short, paved path to the front steps.

Under the protection of the porch, and with the aid of the light she'd left on before leaving home, Y/n rummages through her small purse, finding them right as Hassan starts taking long strides towards her. She gets the door open just as he reaches her. Not waiting for them to get inside, Hassan snatches her hips again and crushes his mouth to hers.

Y/n stumbles backwards into the house, blindly discarding her purse as Hassan kicks the door shut. When he shoves her against the closest wall, she elicits a quiet oof that he eagerly muffles.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He probs, trapping her between his firm body and the cool wall.

Smiling through slower kisses, Y/n's lithe fingers travel down his front to grab his crotch, the size of the bulge there making moisture pool in her center. “I think I've got a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah?” The word is a hoarse whisper as Y/n undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, “that's not even half of it, babygirl.”

Dipping her hand into his boxers, she gasps as she closes her hand in around his impressive girth. “What else?” She croons, using her thumb to spread around a bead of precum.

Lowering his head to lay his lips on her neck, Hassan alternates between pressing feverish kisses to her soft skin and nibbling on the area around her pulse. Simultaneously, his rough hands dip under the hem of her sweater, first flattening to rove the dip of her waist before journeying upwards to knead her breasts through her bra.

“Better if I show you,” he declares after tugging his teeth away from her neck. Making short work of pulling the sweater over her head, Hassan reaches for the button on her jeans, handling it so roughly that it pops right off, the soft sound of it hitting the floor drowned out by their heavy breathing.

“You're wearing a skirt the next time we see each other,” he warns while peeling off her pants and underwear. When they reach her ankles, Y/n can't seem to kick them off fast enough, her shoes getting lost in the hurry.

Hassan's jeans and boxers don't make it past his knees before he's grabbing the back of her thighs and hoisting her up. Y/n’s legs immediately hook to his hips and he barely lets a second go to waste before sliding into her.

“God!”

“Fuck!”

Their unison exclamations are accompanied by his vice grip on her hip tightening enough to leave bruises and her nails sinking into his shoulder blades. He fills her so completely that it burns and Y/n swears she can feel him in the lower part of her stomach.

But she wants more.

“Move. Please,” she whines desperately.

Eager to comply, Hassan stirs a steady pace of rough, controlled thrusts. With each roll of his hips, he removes himself almost completely before driving back into her. Every time their hips connect, Y/n swears he's hit something no one else has ever touched and she can't help the pitched yelp that breaks her lips, combating the sound pouring rain and rolling thunder.

Gripping the back of his neck, she cups his cheek with her other hand, urging his face closer. His tongue swirls around hers and she completely relinquishes any remaining semblance of control.

Reaching between them, Hassan presses his thumb to the bundle of nerves between her thighs, rubbing it in vigorous circles and effectively adding to the growing pressure in her stomach.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Hassan encourages when her legs start stiffening. “That's it babygirl,” he praises when her hips buck enthusiastically, “I wanna feel…..just like that,” he grunts through clenched teeth when Y/n finally pulses around his length. “Fuck!”

Hassan's release is on the heel of her, generous ribbons of his hot product drenching her walls. There's a stutter in the drilling motion of his hips, but he still manages to ride out their highs with an almost assaulting pace.

And then, when they're done, he slumps forward, his weight pinning her to the wall.

Despite the coolness provided by the storm raging outside, their both sweaty and there's a stifling heat surrounding them. Her legs are as good as jelly, and when Hassan gingerly detaches himself from her, the only thing keeping Y/n upright is his steadying, one handed grip. With his free hand, he reaches between her sore thighs; collecting the bits of silky moisture in curled fingers before slipping them between her folds.

“Shit,” Y/n hisses, leaning her head to his chest, which is somehow still guarded by his wet shirt.

“What?” Hassan prompts.

“I'm not on…..anything,” she admits. In the moment, it was the furthest thing from her mind, and even now, she's more concerned about his reaction than what it might mean for herself.

In fact, there's an odd sense of satisfaction that accompanies the thought of risking it all for the sheriff – knowing that of all the women he could chose from the island, the mainland or wherever the fuck he wants to, she's the one that he fucked brainless, and there won't be any denying it.

But that's something that she doesn't want to think about right now.

“Really?” She can practically hear his smirk and it forces her to loll her head back so she can try to make out his expression in the dimess, only illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. “Then maybe we should see what happens if we do that again.”

[archangeldyke-all]

Have you gotten any of my asks? I've dropped in literally every couple of days to say hey and im not sure if they're going through cause tumblr as a whole has been wonky for me lately. Anywho heyyyyy love you 🩶🩶 miss you sm baby 🥺

Have jasper pics with this lil prompt: reader comes home to sev with a puppy (we do not know where she got it from 😭)

JASPERRRRRRRRRRRRr EVERYBODY LOOK AT BABY JASPERRRRRRRR (i'm sobbing, it's day one of my period and these pictures are making me ugly cry) (also i have not gotten any of your asks until this one! tumblr has been fucking with so many people lately! i've missed u mars i hope ur well <333)

men and minors dni

"what the hell is that?" sevika asks.

you freeze, cringing and cursing under your breath. in your arms, the puppy squirms.

"n-nothing?" you squeak, turning around to face your wife. she's got her reading glasses low on her nose, her book cracked open in her lap. you thought you'd be able to sneak by her without getting caught.

sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "doesn't look like nothin'." she says as the puppy in your arms sticks it's leg out of the bundle of blankets you've wrapped it in.

"i'll give you three hundred dollars if you pretend you didn't see that." you sigh.

sevika snorts, then crawls off the bed, inspecting the puppy in your arms.

it's so tiny. it's paws and ears are two times too big for it's itty bitty body. it's eyes are big and glossy, little teeth razor sharp-- sevika groans as she looks down at the little dog.

"babe." she whines. you huff.

"c'mon, sev, look how cute it is!" you push your arms out, pressing the puppy into her arms. she and the dog squirm and equal amount, both of them resistant to the situation, but then--

then sevika gets her arms around the dog, and it's little tail starts wagging wildly as it sniffs and licks at the new person holding it, and sevika tries her best to cringe as it kisses her cheek, but she can't hold in her little giggle as it starts nibbling at her hair.

"what's wrong with it?" she laughs as it squirms some more, it's tail smacking her forearm repeatedly.

"it likes you." you giggle.

sevika's smile is sweet and innocent, and you realize that she's probably never experienced a dog before-- at least, not one that wasn't chasing her down the street, growling and spitting.

you know you're gonna end up keeping the dog when sevika shifts the puppy into one arm, reaching up to awkwardly bop it on the head repeatedly.

"what are you doing?" you giggle as she gently smacks the puppy's forehead.

"petting it." she says. you snort.

"you ever pet an animal before, sev?" you ask.

she shrugs. "it likes it." she says. well, you can't deny that. the puppy's just happy to be in her arms, its tail still going crazy in her arms as its tongue lolls out of its mouth.

you snort, snow her how to properly pet an animal, and then look up the nearest vet's office to your house.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie

[loud-kid2]

@peaches2217 @green-thunder2 @itsavee4117 @silenzahra @supergay-64 @eleventhhourfactor @rainbogen @bberetd

Headcanons about Boos this time

Boos are the very last stage of being a ghost, they are made after a ghost moves on after they finally let go of old grudges, regrets and sorrows. They start out as itty bitty little things and are usually born (or rather spawned) in the land of the dead. They don't have birth parents, but most often they refer to whoever raises them with parental terms, sometimes they grow out of calling parental figures mom, dad or other similar terms, the King Boo triplets (Alexander, Henry and King for those unaware) had this happen with Boo-Hoo (their father figure and royal advisor).

Boos are a lot more solid than other ghosts meaning while you can't punch other ghosts, you can punch a Boo. Boos are also capable of growling, hissing and trilling. They have two different trills they use, one sounds like a cat, the other sounds like an owl trill. Cat trill means they want something, usually food or affection, owl trills are calling out for other Boos, typically family, close friends and romantic partners

Since they're born from what remains after a ghost passes on they can be born with an accent, Rosemarie (Alexander's wife) was born with a French accent and Boo-Hoo was born with an Irish accent, accents can also be learned, for example Alexander, Henry and King got their accent from Boo-Hoo

A lot of people consider Boos to be the last stage of life before somone is reborn, there's no proof of that but they believe it because they like the prospect of begining anew after death.

Boos tend to swarm together, doesn't matter where because they live all over the place, so if you see one Boo there's definatly more nearby. Because of their tendency to gather they have their own little section in the land of the dead called Boo Town. The gathering is also why the Boo Woods are called the Boo Woods.

Bomb Boos aren't actually born in the land of the dead, they're born in the living world. What makes them Bomb Boos is gunpowder mixing with ectoplasm before they are born. Adult Bomb Boos are fragile and can blow up easily so they stay in the land of the dead for safety reasons, baby Bomb Boos are even more fragile and explosive so whenever a baby Bomb Boo is found they are either taken to the land of the dead or the current Boo monarch.

Boos can also be born with intrests from the ghost they technically used to be. Rosemarie got her love of the ocean from this and it's theorized the triplets got their love of opera from this. Boos are their own people though, they are not carbon copies of the ghosts that moved on and indirectly made them, Boos are aspects of them given new life so to speak.

Boos can posses things and people, which is a rather basic thing for a ghost to do, the only unique thing they have is being able to shift between the form we're used to from them (mishevious orb with a face and arms) and a humanoid form. This human form isn't used very often by most Boos and has no color variation between hair and skin tone, white hair and skin tone for regular Boos and black for Bomb Boos. The monarch Boos aren't limited to just a human form, they can shape shift into anyone and anything.

Boo monarchs are typically born in paranormal hotspots where residual energy (what Boos are born from) gathers and pools. Boo monarchs also tend to only be born when they are really needed, typically near the end of a previous monarchs reign. The longest the Boos have ever gone without a monarch is the five year gap between Bowser's birth and the triplets birth. Alex, Henry and King were actually born in the mountain forest that would eventually become Alex's home. Boo-Hoo found the triplets while going on a hike.

Boo monarchs also tend to be much bigger than your average baby Boo, the only exception is Alexander who was born abnormally small for a Boo monarch (he's only slightly bigger than an average Boo)

Boos have never had princes or princesses because a Boo monarch is a king or queen from birth, their first prince and princess was Isabella and Darlington (check their tags for more info or send an ask if curious)