#anyway please ask me about them i have many thoughts!!!

[alexandritefang]

i just wanted to say that I think you’re absolutely amazing and so so creative! reading through everything you’ve written has gotten my imagination all worked up, and I almost just cant resist the thought of adorning a cutesy little blindfold with a collar to match, even a pretty little bell on the collar so every little twitch or squirm or movement is accentuated~

anyways, it’s an almost irresistible fantasy to simply be kneeling under alexandrite’s desk with the blindfold depriving the dignity of seeing and being leashed to a leg of the table! as they work I get the immeasurable honor of servicing them each and every time they pull my hair, helping them do their very best~! anyways apologies for ranting but I simply wanted to thank you for being amazing and unique and wonderful and for inspiring so many pretty fantasies! 🤍🤍

Is just the week's beginning but I swear that the collar bell would distract me 100% from the amount of stress I'm dealing with the last two days. A stress relief sub would be all I could ask for.

You can stay under my work desk, working on the full time job of keeping me pleased. Work places should have such toys right? They talk all the time about "create a good working environment" and none of them thought about the possibility to edge and play with your under-desk-sub? A guy getting all hard and leaky at my feet would look divine. You know, the business attire, a nice black leather collar, just to keep things professional.

But I'm exigent, so you better show your work.

[yourlittlegoblin]

{The Gift He Couldn't Ignore} Scaramouche x Reader

The way I giggled like a little shit at 4am when writing this is insane,,, anyways I hope you enjoy :) Fem!Reader but everyone is welcomed to read my posts!

Scaramouche is as sharp as the edge of a blade, his presence cutting through any room like a storm ready to strike. His words are quick and biting, his temper just as volatile. Many in his command know better than to cross him; even the boldest of the Fatui tread carefully around his wrath. A glare from him is enough to freeze the air, and his scorn lingers like a burn.

But you? You're the quiet ray of sunshine that somehow warms even his cold, stormy edges. You’re introverted and soft-spoken, but you have a calm presence that balances out his temper. There’s something about the way you carry yourself — unassuming, yet unwavering in your quiet kindness — that even Scaramouche can't deny.

It doesn’t take long for some of his subordinates to figure it out. When the air grows thick with tension, and Scaramouche's patience wears thin, they make a quick escape — to you. One by one, they appear at your door, frantic and desperate for refuge.

"Please," one of them says, out of breath and clutching their clipboard like it might shield them, "just let me stand here for a bit. He won’t yell at me if I’m with you."

You blink at them, slightly bewildered but not entirely surprised. “He won’t yell at you if you just get your work done.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” another mutters, shifting uncomfortably, “but he’ll find something to yell about anyway! We’re safer here.”

You sigh, but you let them linger, even offering them a cup of tea while you finish up your paperwork.

Eventually, Scaramouche storms in, his piercing gaze scanning the room. The Fatui scattered around you straighten like statues, their fear palpable. But when his eyes land on you, the fire dims, and something softer flickers to life.

You glance up from your papers, raising an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

His sharp tone falters, softening into something that’s almost — almost — sheepish. “No,” he mutters, crossing his arms. He doesn’t acknowledge the others, though his gaze flicks toward them briefly.

The room is still for a beat. Then, with a low grumble, he turns on his heel and leaves. The tension dissolves instantly, and the subordinates slump in relief.

“You see?” one of them whispers, awe in their voice. “He can’t yell at us when you’re here. You’re our only hope.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re all ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” another chimes in, “but it works.”

They’re not wrong. Scaramouche may be a force of nature, but around you, his storm quiets — and that’s something they’re willing to bet their lives on.

---------------------------------------------------

Soon after, you find yourself standing outside Scaramouche’s office, gently knocking on the door. His sharp voice calls out, “Enter.”

Pushing the door open, you step inside, offering him a small smile as his gaze lifts from the paperwork scattered across his desk. “Good evening,” you say softly.

He arches an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “What brings you here at this hour? Surely, you don’t intend to lecture me about yelling at my subordinates again.”

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. “Not this time.” Walking closer, you reach into your pocket and pull out a small, delicate trinket — a little bird carved from polished wood, its wings spread mid-flight.

“What’s that?” Scaramouche asks, his tone skeptical but laced with curiosity.

“I was wandering through the market earlier,” you begin, holding out the trinket, “and I saw this at one of the stalls. It made me think of you.”

He blinks, his eyes narrowing slightly, though you notice the faintest hint of color brushing his cheeks. “A bird?”

You nod, your voice soft as you explain. “It reminded me of… soaring high. Of reaching for your goals, your ambitions. I thought it might be a nice way to convey my wishes for your endeavors to end in success.”

For a moment, Scaramouche says nothing, his eyes flickering between you and the trinket in your hand. Then, slowly, he reaches out and takes it, his fingers brushing against yours. He examines the bird closely, running his thumb over its smooth surface.

“It’s… fine craftsmanship,” he mutters, though his voice has lost some of its usual sharpness.

You smile, rubbing your eyes as a small yawn escapes you. “I’m glad you like it.”

At the sound of your yawn, Scaramouche’s gaze snaps to you, his expression shifting. The faint shadows under your eyes and the way your posture droops don’t escape his notice.

“You’re tired,” he states, his tone firm but quieter than usual.

“I’m fine,” you say with a slight wave of your hand, though your body betrays you with another yawn.

“Don’t give me that,” he snaps, though there’s no real bite in his words. He sets the trinket carefully on his desk before standing and stepping around to your side. “Wandering the markets, running errands, and now coming to see me? Do you even know when to stop?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the glare he gives you silences whatever excuse you were about to give.

“Go to bed,” he orders, crossing his arms as he towers slightly over you. “Now.”

“Scaramouche, I’m fine—”

“Do I need to carry you there myself?” he interrupts, narrowing his eyes in challenge.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Scaramouche’s sharp eyes follow your every move as you rub your eyes and yawn once again, prompting an exasperated sigh from him. "You're hopeless," he mutters, setting the bird trinket carefully on the corner of his desk.

Before you can protest, he waves a hand dismissively. "The subordinate quarters are too far, and knowing you, you'll find an excuse not to rest anyway. Sleep here, on the couch."

You blink at him in surprise, glancing over at the modestly cushioned sofa tucked against the wall of his office. "Here? Are you serious?"

He gives you a look, one eyebrow arched in that signature Scaramouche way that screams do not argue with me. "Yes, here. Or do you want me to watch you stumble through the halls half-asleep only to collapse somewhere?"

You hesitate, fidgeting slightly. "I don't want to intrude..."

"You're not. Sit down before I make you." His voice is firm, but there's no harshness in it, only a strange undercurrent of care he’s trying desperately to hide.

With a small sigh, you relent, removing your coat and draping it over your shoulders like a makeshift blanket. The couch is surprisingly comfortable, and as you settle in, you hear him grumble, “I doubt you’ll actually sleep.”

“Watch me,” you murmur softly, already feeling the warmth of the room seep into you. The day’s exhaustion catches up all at once, and before you know it, your eyes grow heavy and drift shut.

Scaramouche leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching as your breathing evens out. “Idiot,” he mutters under his breath, though his gaze softens ever so slightly. He picks up the bird trinket once more, his thumb brushing over its polished wings as he glances between it and your peaceful, sleeping form.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, his office feels a little less cold.

---------------------------------------------------

When you wake up, a comforting warmth envelopes you, much cozier than your thin coat could ever provide. You blink groggily and glance down to see Scaramouche's thick fur coat draped over you, its plush fabric soft against your skin. It carries his unmistakable scent—subtle hints of sharp spice and something faintly sweet, undeniably him.

For a moment, you’re caught between surprise and a quiet flutter in your chest. Carefully sitting up, you adjust the coat, its weight still lingering over your shoulders like a protective embrace.

Your gaze shifts toward Scaramouche, seated at his desk. His usual frown is gone, replaced by a calm, almost contemplative expression. He holds something small in his hands—a few of the trinkets you’ve given him over time. A bead here, a charm there, and even a tiny polished stone you had insisted would bring him good luck during one of his more ambitious missions.

He turns them over one by one, his gloved fingers tracing each object with uncharacteristic gentleness. It’s a rare sight, one that tugs at your heartstrings in a way you can’t quite describe.

You watch in silence, your heart growing warmer with every moment. Despite his sharp words and cold demeanor, this little glimpse of him—his quiet appreciation for the small things you’ve shared—makes all his rough edges seem a little softer.

You pull the coat tighter around yourself, smiling faintly as you silently decide to treasure this fleeting, tender moment for as long as you can.

Then Scaramouche looks up, startled to find your eyes on him. His surprise is brief, but it’s enough to break the tranquil moment. “How long have you been awake?” he asks sharply, though his tone carries a hint of embarrassment.

“I just woke up,” you murmur, still wrapped in his fur coat. Your gaze drifts back to the trinkets scattered on his desk, and without thinking, you say softly, “You kept them.”

He scoffs, turning his head slightly as if to hide the faintest flush creeping up his neck. “Of course, I kept them. What do you take me for? I’m not someone so lowly as to toss away gifts given with sincere thoughts behind them.”

Despite his words, there’s a subtle defensiveness in his tone, almost as if the notion of doing otherwise would be an unthinkable affront. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a huff, and adds, “Honestly, you’re such a fool sometimes, thinking I wouldn’t.”

You can’t help but smile at his reaction, though the warmth in your chest only grows. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Don’t get used to it, idiot,” he mutters, looking away but making no move to reclaim his coat from your shoulders.

[roobiedo]

OC-tober: Space

✧ lyrics from Moonlight by EXO ✧

This is Lyka, my werewolf OC who's in love with the moon ♡

They actually started out as a silly Monster Prom self-insert generated from a bunch of personality quizzes I did with my friends hh

As usual I got very attached overnight and sprinkled a healthy amount of angst into their backstory :)

[introspectivememories]

too many of you guys think nico is the loser and not lewis for letting the divorce go on for so long. like they're both losers about each other. emotionally constipated idiots who can't talk about their toxic homoerotic friendship that imploded on itself like 8 years ago and are now making it everyone else's problem. yeah nico's on television or in beer gardens talking about lewis all the time but like every other month some reporter is like "lewis, what's your favorite moment in your career?" and lewis no hesitation is like "oh man, karting, y'know? everything was simpler then" and then spends another six months skirting around nico's name. like this whole thing they're doing in the media isn't some kinda extended foreplay for them. they're both still pressing on the bruise to make sure it's still there!!! every few months, they're literally just asking on public television, does it still hurt for you like it does for me? and like clockwork, someone will release new information about them or one of them will say something about each other (in my heart, he's still my best friend/yes... and teammate) and the answer will remain the same, yes, of course, always.

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[thousand-sunnies]

I am *looking* at that lawlu fae au, yell about it, please. I'd love to hear moar xd

YESS TYSM FOR ASKING!!! sorry for the late response, busy irl time for a little, BUT! i have been thinking about lawlu a lot recently (i’m just about done with watching through dressrosa, so, well, you get it), and i always think fae rules make for a fascinating story, so…

namely, this train of thought was inspired by this tumblr post which i think. encapsulates the lawlu dynamic pretty well. i mean, it’s not like luffy is trying to be owned by someone, but good luck getting any sort of handle on that guy even if he’s yours by the letter of the law. and traffy already has a few markers of being a good fae in canon (tricky as hell, hiding his real name, refusing to eat certain foods lol), so it fits!

and it’s like. imagine. you’re a fae. you know how the world works for you. there’s unspoken rules and unspoken conventions and unspoken hatred coursing through your blood. there’s someone you want to tear down from his post, but it’s not easy, not with the faerie court dynamics involved. you’ve been planning this for a long, long time. it may make you want to scream, but at least the schemes you lay out make sense.

and then, right. and then this human wanders into your domain, and eats your food, and shrugs when you tell him this means he cannot leave. and sure, he’s here now, it’s – fine, whatever, as long as he doesn’t get underfoot, so you leave him to his own devices and look away.

except, right.

except you find out very quickly that he gets underfoot.

a lot. in every way you can imagine, and some ways you can’t possibly. you’ve been raised to see humans as – not inferior, maybe, but certainly easy enough to control – but now you’re suddenly forced to confront the fact that this human had – just – not been raised with the same rules that you have ingrained into your very existence. he says he’s free, and that makes no sense, because you technically own him, what freedom is there in belonging to someone like you, but he– he doesn’t live by your standards. he doesn’t do what you ask. he breaks every rule, and stomps past every line you draw, and makes no sense, and–

and. so.

he had just not been raised with the same rules that all of your kind have ingrained into their very existence, you realise, suddenly. you’re pretty sure that doflamingo knows all about your tricks, and schemes, and traps.

you’re pretty sure, however, that doflamingo is not expecting a punch to the face.

and so, maybe having a human on your side isn’t that bad after all.

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:

[termagax]

re: "good girl" i think they say it once randomly as a joke and its just one of those things that gets him wayyy more than they expected it would. so now its their secret weapon and they use it very sparingly and every single time he gets super embarrassed about it but it works ill tell you what.

[malkaleh]

I keep trying to write an update and then being embarrassed about it and feeling like I’m trauma dumping on people by updating and I just..I know it’s on me to manage my crap, I know. I am trying (not very well but I’m trying) and it’s just…I don’t know. I don’t even know.

[zivaninja]

Blue Bloods finale things/spoilers under the cut that I wanted to yell about:

• Jamko parents!!! Parents!! Oh how far they've come 😭

• I'm going to miss Eddie Janko so damn much, that's my girl.

•Jack and Erin getting married!! They finally got their happy ending. And the looks on their faces at dinner as they decided to keep it to themselves was just so 💜😭

• Danny's face when Henry tells him to find his person to come home to. He already knows.

• Danny Reagan! Asking Maria Baez! On a date! And her saying yes! He doesn't need to go look for his person because she's right there besides him. And the look on her face when she agreed!!

[pocket-ghostie]

I have been thinking about Ace Attorney So Much lately so here is my ace attorney playlist and which songs are which characters! (I absolutely have thoughts about these songs more in depth... if you wanna hear feel free to send me an ask.... I have been thinking about ace attorney for months now...)

Quick disclamer and warning that I have only played the first three games, and also I have played the first three games so there will be spoilers!

The first three I have because of animatics! (And you should watch them, and if already have, watch them again!!!)

Hero by Faouzia! (Awesome Animatic by Modoo) Phoenix and Edgeworth <3

Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift (Lovely Animatic by delightful mochas) The ace attorney games in general

The Garden by The Crane Wives!!!!!! (Amazing Animatic by Kiwinatorwaffles) Edgeworth <3

Anymore by CircusP/Vocacircus. This is a Godot song for sure!

My Boy by Billie Eilish, Dahlia signing about Feenie

She Doesn't Sleep by Anthony Amorim, is a Dahlia song!!!!! It's So Dahlia <3

One Day by Vocacircus, Mia singing to Godot <3

Can't Stop Me Now by The Score, this is a Edgeworth song but Only the first verse. The rest of the song doesn't fit him, but the first verse sure does.

Breathe by Vocacircus (Cover by nostraightanswer), definitely Godot singing about Dahila no doubt about it! (SUCH a Good Godot song!)

Teeth by 5 seconds of summer, Phoenix singing about his confusion between Iris and Dahlia <3

Someone New by Vocacircus, switches between Phoenix and Edgeworth a lot. Also (I think the bridge?) Dahlia sneeks in there (Phoenix starts singing about Dahlia)

Villain by Stella Jang (english cover by Justine's Mic), absolutely a Dahlia song. Maybe singing to Iris? Could also be singing to Godot, or both.

Monster by Kira... Dahila again <3 for most of the song she is singing to Feenie/phoenix, but the bridge is her signing to Mia.

Golden by The Score is phoenix, probably first game phoenix. It's a very hopeful song, I could see it working for the whole trilogy too.

Ok... that's my phoenix wright playlist <3

Love analyzing music and video games and stories and and and.... <3

[lockandkeyhyena]

you've said a few times Titan is pretty homophobic, and I'm curious how she feels about Ruth.

did her opinion change any over the years since Goliath died?

what would she do if Ruth ever said she loved her?

how's she feel abt trans people

some of her bigotry is directed inwards and manifests more as self-hatred. she herself isn’t heterosexual and has a lot of complicated feelings about that, especially after goliath’s affair. i make jokes, but ruth is very openly a proud lesbian and doesn’t tolerate off-handed comments from titan (she’s probably one of the reasons hercules doesn’t hate himself more).

her queerphobia expresses itself outwardly as ignorant rather than hateful, and its something she doesn’t really consider until ruth points out her shitty behaviour. ruth is very lenient on a lot of things she probably shouldn’t be and cuts titan more slack than she deserves but she doesn’t stand for titan’s homophobia, especially around kids.

alot of her attitudes towards gay and trans people fluctuate and change alot along with the story so it would really depend on where in the timeline you put her.

tldr; its complicated.

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

Is Shaun Nora's child? If so, does she view X6 as family due to his closeness to Father, or just as a friend?

shaun is nora's biological child, yep, and post-institute when asked she says she has two sons (referring to shaun and synth!shaun--but a minor plot point in my fic is that she doesn't tell anyone about synth!shaun being a synth. if pressed for details, she just says her eldest passed away recently and that typically shuts down any further questions).

oh, edited to add bc i don't think i was clear: she treats synth!shaun as a son too. she takes to him straightaway. he's still a child who views her as his mother, and she still wants to be a parent. they have a good relationship.

she does view x6 as family, but in a found-family sort of way that doesn't have anything to do with them sharing dna. she thinks shaun calling himself "father" is extremely--i think paternalistic is the right word, and she emphatically does not approve. she feels family is a lot more than genetic material, and so is parenthood, which relates back to her family situation mentioned here.

she and x6 grow close as they work together and kind of outside the bounds of father's knowledge. x6 is a smart guy and figures out nora's still working for the railroad, and for his own reasons keeps it to himself, and nora's aware that if she actually reported how snarky and independent x6 is, he'd be sent to reconditioning. so their relationship is tense for a while, but eventually grows genuine and very close.

i think outside of nick, x6 is the companion she's closest with by the end of things.

[transgender-catboy]

I'm so captivated by his . Everything.

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

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[miesozernacma]

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