#large wall banner

[k3n-dyll]

☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Cregan stark is in awful mood but his wife knows how to set his mood. What could be better than being naked in bed for only him to see and use.

No smut in this one (sorry), but Cregan smut is coming!!

Warnings: 18+, nudity,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Over the past weeks, an influx of ravens came from Castle Black and the Wall. According to the messages, a large force of three thousand wildlings from beyond the Wall had launched major raids to force their way south of the Wall at Queensgate. The movement was led by a wildling chieftain called Sylas the Grim.

Being Warden of the North, it was Cregan's duty to take care of the matter. He spent most of his days in his drawing chamber, strategizing with his council or writing and sending ravens to rally what able-bodied men were left to his banner and combine forces against Sylas. 

You could see that he was under a lot of pressure and stress. He was tense too, resulting in a quick temper. Before last night, you never saw Cregan snap at a servant for bringing him mutton stew when he asked for beef. You apologize to the poor servant on your husband’s behalf when you crossed paths with him in the corridor, telling him Lord Stark had heavy matters on his shoulders at the moment and that he did not mean his bad mouth. 

Following that incident, you decided it was time to help him take out that pent-up tension in ways only you knew. 

After supper, you went up to your chambers and set everything. You lit candles and added more logs to the fire to warm up the room, creating a cozy ambiance. Although the bed had been made by the maids in the morning, you arranged the pillows just right and smoothed the fur pelts, making sure everything was perfect.

Once everything was ready, you sent a servant to request Cregan’s presence in his chambers. He would not be pleased to be disrupted, but he'll change his mind when he sees what's awaiting for him. 

Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you disrobed. Using a wet cloth, you wiped your body from the dirt of the day and rubbed some rose oil on your skin. Then, you climbed on the bed, the pelts soft on your skin, and waited for your husband. 

In the drawing chamber, Cregan was sitting and massaging his temples as his eyes scanned the countless numbers on the many maps spread out before him. His heavy cloak was draped over one of the unused chairs. When the knock on the door came, he let out a sigh. 

This better be important, he thought. 

‘’Come in,’’  Cregan said with irritation in his voice.

The door creaked open and a young male servant stepped shyly into the room. 

He bowed to his lord politely. ‘’My lord. Lady Stark requests your presence in your shared chambers.’’

Cregan raised an eyebrow, a small frown on his face. He glanced at the pile of maps, and then back to the servant. ‘’Did she mention why?’’ he asked the servant, his face stern.

‘’She did not, my lord,’’ the servant replied. ‘’She just said it was important, my lord.’’

With a sigh, Cregan stood up from his chair. ‘’Very well.’’ 

Back in your chambers, you listened carefully to the sounds outside the doors for Cregan’s footsteps. When you heard the familiar heavy footfalls, you leaned back on your arms and wiped your giddy smile from your face.

The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit chamber on the other side. Cregan’s gray eyes scoured the room in confusion, taking in the soft candlelight and the warm fire crackling in the hearth. 

He stepped inside, opening his mouth to ask what it was that you wanted, but your sweet voice filled the room first. 

‘’Good evening, lord husband.’’ 

Cregan turned his attention toward his bed, all thoughts leaving his head when he saw what greeted his eyes. He couldn't help but stare at your naked beauty, laying on the pelts that covered his bed, his eyes roaming over your form with a mixture of desire and awe.

The northman tried to speak, but at first, only a hoarse croak came out. Clearing his throat, he spoke again, his voice thick with need. ‘’What is the meaning of this?’’

You ran a hand up your stomach, painted with lines from your last pregnancy, and over your full breasts, tracing your fingers across your nipples. You gave him a mischievous grin, feeling his eyes burn into you. 

‘’It has come to my attention that you’ve been very stressed and tense lately with all that is happening at the Wall. I took it upon myself to give you a way to unleash all of that pent-up stress by offering myself to you, to take however you wish,’’ you explained. 

Cregan’s gaze was still glued to your hand as it explored the curves of your body. His jaw clenched as he took a deep breath, feeling a tent form in his breeches from watching the movements of your fingers. 

Since the first raven mentioned Sylas the Grim arrived at Winterfell, sex got pushed to the side to treat the urgent matter. And now Cregan was feeling the consequences of his negligence. He’s never been this painfully hard since puberty knocked on his door at four and ten. 

You felt a rush of heat over your body, Cregan’s eyes fixed intently on you with lust and desire, as if he were hunting his prey. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, his body tensed and taut as if ready to pounce. 

‘’You have no idea what you're getting yourself into,’’ he said in a deep, rough voice and a slight smirk playing on his lips. 

You leaned back against the pillows, offering your body to him. ‘’Show me.’’

—

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[heartpiratedrabbles]

Overly Cautious

Prompt: Katakuri comes back from a mission to learn you're pregnant despite never wanting to be a father.

Requested by anonymous

Katakuri X Fem Reader

Katakuri had been sent on a mission to retrieve something, leaving you alone, having you stand in as the Minister of Flour while he was away. Everything was going well; you had done this plenty of times in the past. But some of the workers had noticed you not eating as much, you’d wave them off without a concern. The concern really came when a cake was being made and just the smell of it made you want to vomit.

         You couldn’t hide it from anyone, you were in the middle of a meeting about the upcoming tea party and what pastries would be served. Everyone forced you to see a doctor, no one wanting to deal with the wrath of your husband if he got back to find you sick.

         And that’s how you ended up in the ward, a doctor running tests and looking you over. Much to your dismay numerous curious eyes also making sure you wouldn’t leave this forced appointment. “And when was the last time you were sexually active?” The question threw you off guard, nearly spitting out the tea that you had been allowed to drink.

You’re face burning red as you whip your head around to look at those who had forced you here. None of them dared to make eye-contact with you, some whistling while looking off in a random direction. They tried to protest when you kicked them out, but you refused to discuss such things in front of so many people. Once the door was finally closed the doctor, who was not too amused asked the question again. “It’s been a little a while, 7 or 8 weeks I think,” Thinking back to the last intimate night you had with Katakuri, he’d been so busy lately that it’d had been longer than normal.

The doctor wrote some notes down and continued with other questions before doing some blood tests. You sat back, expecting this to be a simple flu. That would give you a headache, you’d be forced to bedrest as to not spread it and not slow down progress. The doctor padded his way back into the room, flipping through the papers reading the results of everything he had tested for. “Well, it seems as though you’re pregnant.”

         You took the rest of the day off to think about things. Katakuri had adamantly told you he didn’t want children. He didn’t want to pass down his genes in fear of what could happen, you understood his concerns and agreed to not try. And while you were sexually active, contraceptions were used at every avenue, Birth Control, Condoms, Spermicide, even a Plan B if there was a thought of something going wrong.

         Katakuri would be getting back from his mission in a couple days, so it’s best to just wait until then. Can’t be announcing things like this. As much as you’d prefer to sweep this under the rug, Big Mom was someone who didn’t partake in abortions, wanting a large family and everything, it’d be counter-productive in her mind. So as much as you wanted too, you’d have to go to a different island, and that included having Katakuri with you to avoid Big Mom’s gaze.

         But your plans changed quickly, despite clearly telling the Doctor to keep the news secret, the next day you arrived to the office with banners and some tastefully small cakes. Cards going around with small gifts as though it was common place to celebrate so early on. You tried to get them to calm down, but everyone was overjoyed that their leader finally had an heir on the way.

~~~

         Katakuri stared off into the distance, leaning against the wall as the ship got closer to their homeland. It had been a pointless mission, delivering a letter to a foreign country, demanding there be talks of a marriage. He hated being away from Komugi island for too long, from his normal job as the Minister of Flour. There he’d at least be able to relax a little bit more than normal, and when he was with you, he could let his guard down completely. Trusting you to cover for him or tell him if someone was coming. Being on a ship where he refused to lay down in fear of prying eyes had taken a toll on him, no matter how short the trip was.

         As the ship docked some of his administrators found him, happy as ever with large smiles. He wasn’t listening too much to their words of congratulations, assuming it was just words on finishing the mission, he just wanted to make it home so he could finally sleep on his back.

         As he was bidding farewell to those around him, one of them said something rather confusing, “Ah, tell Y/N that the mid-wife will be around to talk to her next week. I forgot to let her know earlier.” A mid-wife? For his Wife? Katakuri swallowed the lump in his throat, reasoning that it had to have been due to some unforeseen baby boom in the town.

         But as he passed through the halls of his home, he noticed servants scurrying about more than normal. All with excited faces, some with parcels in their hands. It wasn’t until he got to your room pushing the door open to see you sitting at your tea table, a hand rubbing your forehead, “If it’s another gift then send it back. How many times do I need to tell you all to keep this quiet.” Your tired voice brushing past him while you waved your hand, not even looking in the direction of the door.

         You heard the door close and let out a heavy sigh, looking to the already inconvenient pile of baby toys, clothes, and furniture that people of the island had pushed onto you. Nobody in this god forsaken town could keep quiet, which would make things so much harder, if Big Mom got word of this, you were more than certain you wouldn’t be able to pass off a random miscarriage without her knowing the truth.

         “What is all this?” You jumped a bit, hearing your husbands voice. You never even got word of his arrival to the island, much less that he had already come home.

         “We need to talk.” You voice was serious as you looked over at him, he was staring down at you unmoving. “Why not sit down?” He stayed still, crossing his arms for an explanation and you sighed again, this wasn’t normal for him, but you were already too tired to deal with it.

         Your sigh caused Katakuri to take another step further, “I get that you must be doing some fundraiser or gala. But you shouldn’t have these donations in here.” You spit out your drink, looking up at you’re normally smart husband.

         “Excuse me?” The silence as he stares at you hit you hard, “You think I’m doing a fundraiser? And you think all these stupid things are donations? Is that really what you think?!” Your annoyance peeking through clearly. First the news got, then the storm of gifts, and now even your husband seems to be getting on your nerves. “Katakuri I’m pregnant.” You shake your head, stating it out right was best in these types of situations, “So, might I suggest you sit down so we can talk abou-“

         “Your idea of a joke is awful Y/N,” He walks over to the neat stacks of gifts, all of which you were sending back when you got the chance, “I mean really? You think staging some baby items is enough to convince me? This prank is in bad taste.” His regal voice showed no sign of joking and it made you more frustrated than you already were.

         “This isn’t a joke,” You were getting another headache but the subtle glare he shot you made it clear he wasn’t going to listen, “You know what? You just got home, why don’t you rest? I’ll send these gifts back in the meantime.”

~~~

         The next day Katakuri came to his office looking a little more refreshed and prepared for the day. He sits down in the confines of the space and starts looking through the reports, “It seems you fell a little behind while I was away. Why?” His smooth tone showing you he was ignoring everything you said the day prior.

         You had expected something like this to happen so you put the paper with the test result in front of him. “You’re lovely administers made me go to the doctors after some sickness.” His eyes scanned the paper, reading every detail until you could tell he landed on the prognosis. “I’m about 2 months along.”

         Katakuri sucks in his breath, you can tell by the twist of his eyebrow that this isn’t going to be fun, deciding to sit on the couch while you wait for his response.

Honestly, you barely had time to process this all yourself, being pushed and pulled everywhere by workers. The only time you had time to think for yourself was late at night when people thought you’d be sleeping. The first night you had spent just staring into the darkness that was the room trying to figure out the situation. Truly, you could relate to what Katakuri was probably going through.

         You two never planned on being parents. You vehemently discussed avoiding parenthood the natural way, maybe adopting if you’re mother-in-law became pushy. The thing you wanted most right now was a glass of whiskey, but for clear reasons you couldn’t get one. Your body felt so tense since finding out, your muscles aching from the lack of relaxing.

You were hoping that your husband would be the one to make sense of it for you, but seeing how he’s reacted so far, he was in the same boat as you. It stung, your heart dropping slightly as you put on this front of neutrality. But it was the best you could do, if you didn’t maintain this semblance of control over yourself, you felt like you’d break down.

Finally, your husband spoke, although his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it caused you to go further into the downward spiral that was your mind, “Well then whose is it?” His voice was dipped in venom but maintained a single tone, “If you wanted a kid so bad, we could have adopted.”

You bit your tongue, staring at the floor in front of you. He waited a couple second for a response but you couldn’t bring any words to come out before he continued, “You didn’t have to go behind my back like this.” His even tone made every muscle in your body tense more than they already were.

A knock at the door caught both of your attentions, yet your body was still tightly wound as you got up, opening the door to let whoever it was in. Someone with a bunch of papers and a wide smile looked back at you and you ushered them in while brushing your way out of the suffocating room.

Offering small smiles to those you passed as you hurried away from the situation. It was only after you had gotten to a small reading room and locked the door behind you that you slid down onto the floor. Your room was too far away and this was unused enough that no one would come looking here. A hand pressed against your stomach while the other tangled itself in your hair, gripping tightly to feel anything other than the heavy emotions that have flowed through you for days now.

You haven’t let anyone know of your own feelings on this matter, other than wanting to keep it on the down low, everyone assuming it was so you could Katakuri yourself, and yet somehow that one single voiced wish hadn’t come true. The entire island singing praise and you were the center of their attention.

You began panting, your throat swelling up making it hard to grasp at air, feeling your body start to shake. Even Katakuri wasn’t willing to listen. This has to be a lot for him, but I thought he loved me. Your body curling in on itself, the hand in your hair running down to grip at the back of your neck while your nails dug into your stomach. He even suggested I had cheated on him, found another man. The thought itself made you sick to your stomach, your heart beat drowning out any noise around you, and eyes squeezing shut as the world got darker around you. Am I just an object to everyone? You tried, and failed at opening your mouth, attempting to get any air to fill your compressed lungs. The beating of your heart the only reminder of that you were in fact alive.

~~~        

         Katakuri was walking down the hallways. Every time he passed someone who worked with you, he’d ask the same questions. All of them similar stories that made his heart twist with worry, and yet when he went looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. It had been hours since you disappeared from his office without a second glance, the thought of how you left was now hurting him, now that he’s had time to calm down and truly think about everything.

         Since no one could find you, he was the person that people were bringing presents too, all of which he ushered to be sent wherever you had put them, some people asking if he had seen you so they could ask more questions. He hadn’t even been back a full day and yet he was overwhelmed with so much. Stalking back to your bedroom, assuming that could be his one quiet place, maybe even find you again to try and have a conversation about everything.

         His heart jumped into his throat thinking about it, you had been trying to talk to him this entire time and each attempt was met with malice. You were so patient, letting him voice his hate and distrust. Watching you sit on the couch silently, neither confirming nor denying allegations said to you, though your knuckles turned white in your lap. But what else could he think? With every safeguard the two of you had put into place, how else could you had ended up with a child growing inside of you? Walking into your shared room he looked around, the pile of gifts in the corner seemingly doubled in size from previously in the day.         

Yet still, there wasn’t a sign of you anywhere. Katakuri paced a bit, looking for any sign that you had been here after leaving him earlier. But there wasn’t a single thing out of place or used compared to this morning. The realization that no one has seen you for most of the day hitting him with a cold sweat as he calls for security

[pseudowho]

The Widow's Keeper

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Marrying again after losing your husband in Shibuya was never part of your plan. Then, Higuruma Hiromi came along.

Warnings: Character death, grief, angst, fluff

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A hysterical shriek-- a frantic cry for a man long dead-- rang through the bedroom, enveloped in the dark warmth of night, and broke down into anguished sobs. A soft shout of alarm, and hurried reassurances, sobs muffled, hands stroking, soothing, kisses on foreheads.

Hiromi held you to his chest, his pyjama top damp with your tears, his eyes gritty from sudden wakefulness. You cried away your grief, still so raw, replaying over and over in your dreams-- taunting you with 'what if's and 'if only's. Hiromi's nose nuzzled into your hair, both arms tightly holding you lest you fall apart against him, mumbling his sweet love in humid little breaths to your head.

It had been a while since you had dreamed of Nanami Kento, he pondered, rocking you gently from side-to-side. Dead and buried for almost 4 years now, Hiromi had married you and your trauma, your loss, your fallen love. He had taken you as the package you were, a complex parcel, and the mother of the second love of his life.

Little footsteps approached the door; little hands, cautious against the cool wood, pushed it open with a squeak.

"Mummy? Daddy? Is it a bad dream? You woke me up," grumbled your little girl, blonde and brown-eyed, with sharp delicate features. You sat up hurriedly, wiping your eyes and plastering on a damp smile. As you began moving to get out of bed, Hiromi laid a gentle hand on your thigh, kissing you on the temple.

"I'll take it from here," he hushed, and you sniffled, threatening tears again, "go back to sleep. I love you."

Planting a watery kiss to Hiromi's lips, you laid down in bed, burrowing your nose into his pillow, his smell, always feeling your adoration for him with the sting of guilt.

Hiromi scooted to the door, his loud shuffling footsteps pretending to be sneaky as he scooped his daughter up in his arms, nosing at her with deliberate snuffles. She giggled, batting him away, capturing his face in her little hands, slanted eyes narrow and delighted.

"Back to bed, little one. Your teddies can't sleep without you." Hiromi's playful bargaining wasn't needed, his daughter half-asleep in his arms already, while her arms wound around his neck to snuggle her head under his chin. By the time he had tucked her back into bed, she breathed soft snores, her bed still warm from the nest she had made.

Hiromi crouched by your daughter's bed, watching her, committing all of her features to memory; never this small, ever again, he thought, bittersweet as she grew, blooming. He stroked her hair, nursing the stale guilt of feeling he had stolen this life from another man, and feeling so deeply undeserving, so ashamed because of it.

While Hiromi knew his daughter-- your daughter, Kento's daughter-- more than Kento ever would, there felt to be an impenetrable wall to his love, an absence of a blood bond, stolen away from a man who did not want to leave his wife, and had not even known he was to become a father. Hiromi felt responsible, as if he had spirited you both away himself. He did not deserve to hold you through your grief; he did not deserve to be daddy.

Planting a last kiss to his daughter's forehead, a long-fingered hand stroking blond flicks out of her eyes, Hiromi tiptoed to the door. He hesitated for a moment, then tiptoed back. A brown teddy with its familiar, well-fiddled-with and far-too-large-for-teddies yellow leopard-spotted tie, belonged in his daughters' arms, and not on the floor.

Padding back to your bedroom, a thief in the night, the sheets played a gentle susurrus over your bodies as Hiromi tangled his legs through yours, lying on his back so you could tuck across his chest. You slipped a hand under his t-shirt, travelling up to his chest to stroke its patch of downy black hair. Hiromi's fingers tangled through your hair, examining the whorls of your ear, rolling your earlobe in thought.

"I'm so sorry," you hiccuped into Hiromi's chest, and you heaved with sobs when his reassurance began before you had even finished apologising, his arms tightening around you. He cupped your face in his hands, tilting it, look at me, come on darling, please, look at me.

Hiromi held your face, your cheeks squashed and blotchy with tears in his palms. He felt a trickle of disgust with himself run down his throat, as he stole his role as your hero from Kento, "None of that. You know you don't have to apologise for anything--"

"But I love him," you sobbed, voice cracking with devastated guilt, feeling like a filthy liar, a cheater, a bigamist, "I love him so much and I want him back, but I want you, Hiro, I-- I--" Hiromi nodded, still gazing into you, hooded dark eyes like little embers in the night. You felt a surge of appreciative, grateful love as he drank down your proclamations of love for another man, and wanted you anyway.

"If it were the other way round," Hiromi started, slow and deliberate, "if it were me who had died, and Kento loved you after...I would trust him completely to carry the torch for me. To give you two everything that I wouldn't be able to give."

You wept again, your face and chest aching, loss heavy in your soul. Hiromi kept you close, tethering you, repeating in a tender mantra; "You can love us both. You can love us both, because we both love you. You can love us both."

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"I...I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

Hiromi's words fell weakly, unanswered by the dead. Nanami Kento's grave was pristine under the hands of his many friends, his lover, his students, those he had saved. He was popular in death as he had been in life; not inundated with true friends, but awash with bannermen and admirers, those who aspired to be like him, and those who aspired to be liked by him. An admission of guilt writhed in Hiromi's chest, bursting out in one strained cry.

"I can't feel sad that you died," Hiromi spat, disgusted not with Kento, but with himself, "because if you hadn't died, I wouldn't have them, and I'm a real piece of shit--"

"No you're not," a friendly voice drawled to Hiromi's left. Hiromi froze, eyes wide and paralyzed, dread creeping through him that someone had heard his biggest shame--

"-- and Nanami wouldn't have thought so, either. I bet she was the last thing he thought about-- worrying about her, who would look after her. He'd be happy. For her to have a good man. Like you."

Ino Takuma leaned down beside Hiromi, speaking a brief prayer above Kento, a wrapped, spotted blunt blade harnessed onto his back. Placing some fresh flowers down, he stood up again.

Hiromi and Ino were silent together amongst the rustling willows, the smooth dappling sunlight, the whispering babble of the shallow river. Ino rocked on his heels, smiling, hands pocketed. Hiromi hung his head in shame.

"You can...you can feel both, Higuruma. Regret for him dying and leaving her, and...and loving her, I guess. You're not a bad person. I bet she beats herself up for marrying again, right?"

Hiromi swallowed, nodding quickly after a breath's pause. Images flitted across his mind-- you, resplendent in your gown. Your daughter, so solemn on her big day, scattering petals down the aisle. Your earnest kiss, your joyful dancing, your gracious speech. Your wedding night breakdown, holding you in a hot bath in innocent intimacy, folding your lingerie away in favour of a soft nightdress, nothing expected, nothing lost, in life and in death, in sickness and in health.

"You've just...you've just got to be his wingman, y'know?" Ino stated, arms crossed up behind his balaclava'd head, "You and Nanami...you're both her husband. You're both my niece's dad. So big him up a bit for us, huh?"

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"Hey, dad?"

Hiromi leaned round the fridge door, crows feet crinkling around his eyes as he popped a cube of cheese into his mouth, busted.

His daughter smirked at him, fine eyebrows raised under a smooth honey-blonde fringe. As tall as Hiromi, leggy and sarcastic, Hiromi didn't so much tell this young woman off now, as get savagely roasted by her dry wit. Hiromi took it with all of the frustrated joy of a father trying to parent a young woman with unparentably excellent traits.

"Cheese?" Hiromi offered, flicking a cube deftly at his daughter. She caught it, seamlessly, eyes narrowing at him. For all the bravado she was putting on, Hiromi knew she was putting it on. He headed over, pulling her to him with one arm, blonde head against black-grey head.

"Penny for them?"

She sighed, and began: "Did you...meet him?"

Him. Ah.

"I did not," Hiromi admitted, "but I know he was exceptional. Your mother has wonderful taste." He accepted the slap to his arm, well-deserved.

"I can never...I don't think I'll ever be as good as him." Hiromi's heart swelled and ached for his daughter; he felt an odd kinship, one of them in such a powerful shadow, one of them in such enormous shoes. Hiromi nodded, his throat thick.

"You're right," he said, his daughter's lips puckering up in grim acceptance, looking at the floor, "your dad was a hero. He protected the weak when nobody else wanted to. He took on the messy jobs with nothing more than a glass of whiskey and your mum's love behind him. He was funny, kind, patient, empathetic... he was the best of the best. The best sort of man. He's a legend even now."

"So, no, sweetheart, you're never going to be as good as him," Hiromi turned to his daughter, cupping her high-cheeked face in his hands, pressing her to look at him, "you're going to be better. You have all three of us in you, and you carry it so well."

Hiromi's daughter let out a dry sob, refusing to let tears fall. She sniffled, pulling close to Hiromi, letting herself be held. Rubbing her nose and pulling her hair behind one ear, she reached behind her onto a chair, revealing a black, rectangular handled case.

"Uncle Ino gave me something, today," she started, unclipping the case, "he said it was dad's. I thought I...I want to use it. Like he did."

Hiromi gazed fondly down at the blade of legends, white wrapping yellowed at the edges with age, but still just as deadly. He smiled, and your daughter relaxed into his wordless reassurance.

"Yes. Absolutely. It's the only...you're the only one who could do this old thing justice, now," Hiromi pressed, eager to hold Kento and his child together across the impenetrable veil of death, "but I have to warn you."

His daughter glanced to Hiromi, anxious. He took a deep breath, and continued;

"Your mother will cry when she sees this."

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A few tears slipped out while I wrote this.

[webdollzz]

Birthday girl ᯓᡣ𐭩

a/n: in light of my girls birthday…thought i’d write this. @scoobywrites690, happy birthday mama. i hope you had the best day ever (and this makes it that little bit better)

warnings: SEX! BIRFDAY SEXXX. mixes up between rough n soft. oral (f rec), mating press?? ish? multiple orgasms,

Simon did anything he could to make sure he would be back just in time for your birthday. Sure, being in the military, you didn’t have much — or any at all — control over when you got to go home, but he still tried.

And thankfully, he did manage to.

On the day of your birthday, infact. Best gift ever, right?

You were still out, likely with friends or something along those lines, so it meant he had the house to himself for an unknown amount of time, so he had to do the best with what he can.

He ran to the nearby hobby store, where he knew there would be banners, balloons, all the birthday decorations.

One hand taping banners to the wall, mouth occupied blowing up a balloon and his other hand holding it so it didn’t just fly out his mouth.

He was trying his hardest to get it all done before you came back.

When you entered the house, bag draped over your shoulders, you let out a sigh of relief at finally being able to just collapse and watch a movie until you fell asleep.

You kicked off your shoes, throwing them somewhat towards the direction of the shoe case.

You wished Simon was here, it’d make everything so much easier for you. You understood his job wasn’t necessarily the easiest to get away from, anything but infact, but you could still wish you had your husband with you.

Switching on the lights, a loud gasp ripped from your throat at the sight of a tall, brooding man stood in the middle of your living room.

When you realised it was your tall, brooding man stood in the middle of your living room, with a dorky smile and a balloon is hands — you could swear you wanted to scream.

Wordlessly, you let the bag drop from your shoulders, nose scrunching as tears filled your eyes. You shuffled towards him, falling into his chest head first and wrapping your arms tightly around him.

He reciprocated — of course — his arms going around your waist tightly and practically lifting you off your feet.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it,” You whispered into his chest, sniffling away your tears. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry this year.

“I’d never miss my wife’s birthday.” He kissed the crown of your head, peppering more all over your forehead before reaching your cheek.

“C’mon,” He tugged you away from him, having to begrudgingly separate you two like velcro. “There’s more.”

He pulled you along, walking past all the banners and balloons, being led to the bedroom.

Rose petals led the way, his warm hand enveloping yours; and you gripped him just that little bit tighter.

There was candles lit, the ceiling light off so they were the only thing illuminating the bed, which was covered in various things.

More rose petals, some bath salts, bubbles, a large teddy bear (which won’t fit anywhere in your already cluttered, hoarder house), a few pieces of jewellery, some chocolate and fluffy socks. ‘Cause who doesn’t love fluffy socks?

You sniffled again, looking at all the presents he managed to get you in the maybe four hour span you weren’t home and he was.

“I know s’ not a lot, I didn’t know how long you were going to be.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared at what he classes as a sad display.

You grabbed him by the shirt, tugging him down to your level a little, watching his eyes flick away from the bed to you.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Well, who is he to deny that?

He smiled before his head tilted down the rest of the way down, lips brushing hours before they locked in a kiss. A kiss filled with passion, longing, and need.

It had been so long since you had kissed Simon, that you almost had forgotten the pressure of his kiss entirely.

It started slow, sensual, soft. His hands drifting from your waist to your cheeks, thumb slowly stroking them. Your hands went from his chest to the back of his neck, tugging him closer and deepening the kiss.

The kiss went from slow and sensual to fast and needy, very quickly. He took a step forward, and you backed up until your knees hit the bed; not breaking the kiss.

He went to push you back against the bed, but got interrupted by your little wince of being poked in the back with a bottle of bubble bath.

He grumbled, taking the objects off one by one and putting them on the dresser, walking backing forth and making you laugh at him.

You pushed all the remaining stuff off the bed, hopping onto it and leaning back on your elbows, legs spread invitingly.

He smirked, approaching slowly and moving to kneel between your legs.

“Where do you want me, my love?” He asked, peppering kisses along your cheek before they drifted down to your neck.

You grabbed his wrist, slowly guiding his hand to your jean clad cunt, making a slow smirk form on his lips that you could feel against your skin.

“Can’t say no to the birthday girl, can I?” He practically purred against your skin before his hands fumbled at your jean buttons, tugging them down your thighs before he threw them to the floor.

Upon seeing the already forming wet patch on your panties, he let out a low laugh as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit through your panties.

“So wet already ‘n’ we ain’t even started.” He teased, dripping his head down to begin kissing your neck again.

“Shut up and just fuck me, ‘kay?” You hissed through gritted teeth, hand going to the back of his head to keep him where he is.

He hummed slowly, fingers tugging your panties down your legs and dismissing them else where, pushing your legs open wide before leaning back — getting a nice, long look at you.

“So fuckin’ perfect.” He groaned, hands sliding up your body and going to the hem of your shirt, pulling that off and throwing it, leaving you completely exposed to the cool air of your bedroom.

You shivered, before bucking your hips closer to him to try and find friction, letting a soft — almost pained — whimper leave your lips.

“Please.” Was all it took from you, and he was sliding between your legs until he was led on his chest.

Usually, he’d have you beg way more than that, but since it’s your birthday, he figured you can have it easy just this once.

“M’ getting to it, baby.” He said through his kisses he scattered along your inner thighs, big, strong arms wrapping around them to keep them spread open for him.

“Si..” You cried, head falling back against the pillow as you began getting impatient, hips attempting to shuffle towards him so he’d just fucking get there faster.

But unfortunately, his burly tatted arms kept you from doing such.

He ignored your pleas, continuing his kisses and occasional nibbles as he made his way closer and closer to your wet cunt, watching the way you tried to squirm and the way you clenched around nothing.

Keeping his eyes on you, he flattened his tongue and ran it up the length of your pussy, from your needy hole to your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a harsh gasp and a hand fly to his hair, tugging on it.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently and making your noises grow louder and more frequent, pulling him closer and putting your thighs around his head.

“Fuck, Si. Don’t stop.” You cried, heavy breathing and loud moans falling from your pretty lips as two fingers prodded at your entrance, the intrusion making you hiss softly before it heightened your pleasure — the same reaction you always had.

He watched you intently, slowly guiding his fingers in and out of you as his mouth lapped and sucked at your clit, groaning when you’d tug on his hair a little bit harder.

You lifted your head, eyes half lidded as you looked down to see him already staring at you, hips slightly grinding against the mattress below you.

The sight had the knot in your stomach twisting tighter, brows furrowing as your thighs began shaking.

“Si — Simon, m’ gonna cum, m’ gonna cum.” You whisper-chanted at him, and he just continued the same movements, not changing the rhythm of his fingers as they curled inside you, feeling your warm walls flutter as you grew closer and closer.

He pulled away, gently leaning his head on your inner thigh as he stared at you like a love sick puppy, hips humping at the mattress. Like a bitch in heat.

“It’s okay, love. Cum f’me, c’mon.” He cooed, giving you a little nod before his head dipped back down and lapped at you like a man starved.

If it wasn’t for the hot heat of pleasure rushing through your entire body and mind, the wet sound of him pumping his fingers in and out of you, and his mouth sucking at your sensitive cunt would’ve normally felt you embarrassed.

But you were too occupied to be insecure right now.

“Fuck, fuck. M’ cumming, m’ cumming!” You gasped, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you in harsh and hot waves, a long drawn out moan leaving your throat.

He nearly came in his boxers from the sight of you cumming alone, his eyes fluttering gently as they never strayed away from you.

Your body finally relaxed against the bed and his movements slowed to a stop, before he pulled away and kissed your pussy, then your stomach, chest, neck, jaw, and finally: lips.

You sighed softly at the taste of yourself against his tongue as he kissed you, his hands going to his trousers to pull at them until they were off him and on the floor instead — boxers following suit rather quickly.

Using your slick left on his fingers, he jerked himself off just a little before lining himself up with your entrance, breaking the kiss to watch.

His large hands hooked underneath your weak, trembling thighs, pushing them to your chest as you let out another sigh, head falling back and eyes closing as you felt his tip nudging against your clit.

He pushed himself in slowly, both of you letting out a low moan as he did so, sliding in with ease until he was buried to the hilt, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he forced himself to not cum.

He wanted at least one more out of you before he did.

“Move — please, move. I need it.” You coaxed him, hands fumbling with the bottom sheets as you tried to push yourself into him further.

“Mhm, I am, I am.” He whispered softly, voice comforting as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, ankles now dangling by his head.

His arm wrapped around your thighs, forcing them flat against his front as his other arm was supporting his body weight so he didn’t completely crush you.

He began slowly thrusting into you, easing you in as he was on deployment for a while and he knows your stupid toys don’t do it like he does.

He watched where you were connected, admiring the way your cunt so eagerly took him and swallowed him whole, triggering him to let out a low growl and begin increasing the intensity of his thrusts.

You mewled; hands clawing at whatever skin of his was available, incoherent babbles of whatever he can assume is his name falling from your lips along with loud moans.

He leant down, bringing some of his large weight down against you as he pounded your cunt like he wouldn’t be able to again, wrapping your legs around his waist so he could watch your pretty face contort in pleasure.

He reached his hand out to hold your cheek, leaning down to kiss you gently, contrasting his harsh and fast thrusts.

He felt your cunt flutter around him once more, and he smiled against your lips before pulling back, tucking hair behind your ear.

“You gonna cum again, sweetheart?” He asked you, watching the way your head nodded quickly and your hands reached out to paw at his chest.

“Mhm, mh— m’ gonna cum, fuck. I missed you, missed you so much.” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes as the ache in your lower abdomen grew and grew at a quick pace; jaw falling and lips forming a little o.

He smirked, holding your face and admiring you like he wasn’t ruining your pretty little pussy.

“I know, I know. I missed y’too, baby. Cum f’me, c’mon. Show me how much you missed me.” He groaned, feeling his own orgasm threaten to hit him at any second, and he just had to hope you came first.

And you did.

You let out a loud cry, mixed with a gasp as your legs locked around his waist. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arching so much that you were hardly even led on the bed anymore.

He felt your orgasm coat his entire cock, triggering his own as his thrusts grew sloppier, before he completely buried himself as far into your cunt he could and filled you up until you were practically dripping.

You both came down from your highs, panting heavily as he collapsed (but left his weight off you mainly) ontop of you, burying his face into your neck.

Your eyes closed briefly, before they snapped open at the feeling of his thrusts beginning again.

Looking at your face, he let out a low laugh.

“What, did you think your gift was over?”

[konigsblog]

stepbro!könig and stepbro!krueger thots ... ☆‧₊˚.

tw: stepcest, non-con/dub-con (peer pressure, blackmail), degrading.

— stepbrother!könig is teasing and degrading. he loves to make you feel like you're worth nothing, especially if it's because you haven't pleased him with a nice, sloppy, and sticky blowjob. :3

stepbrother!krueger on the other hand, is addicted to seeing you cry. he's so mean, brutal with his pace when he demands you to bend over and present that pretty, and tight cunt to him! both him and könig love to gang up against you, so they can blackmail you with skimpy, scandalous photos of you -- threatening to leak it if you didn't please them like they asked.

instead of arguing or retorting back at them, you meekly turned around, getting smacked in the rear causing you to jolt and squeak, listening to the sounds of könig tutting with impatience clear in his voice.

“haven't got all day, mäuschen...” you slide your panties off, spitting a fat glob of saliva on your hand and rubbing your clit in circles so you're wet and dripping! sloppy, and sopping wet. just like a good stepsister should be...

“now be a smart girl and arch that back for us.”

krueger's accent is prominent in the air, pushing up against you, both hands on your hips. he sloppy humps you, wet and sticky, cum sticking to your thighs and covering your folds. he's only inside for a few minutes before he's cumming all over your slit, coating you in thick strings of cum.

they both take turns of you. könig's hard dick easing into your asshole without preparation, causing you to grip anything around you tightly, panting and whimpering through the ache. his thrusts are harsh and rough, making sure to fuck some sense into his dumb stepsister who always falls for their threats...

— at dinner, they're both pieces of shit. not only to eachother, but you especially. you're just a little ragdoll to take their anger out on. whether that's by eating you out underneath the table while you speak to your mother and stepfather, holding back moans and gasps when krueger drags his tongue over your sensitive clit. just like the cheeky bastard he is...

stepbrother!könig is always riled up. even when you're a few metres away from your mother who was preparing dinner in the kitchen, he'll hide behind a wall close to the kitchen, pinning you against the same wall, rutting into you while covering your mouth with a large, calloused hand. your muffled whines and mewls fall onto death's ears as he fits himself whole inside you, his balls smacking against your ass repetitively.

and your mother always asks why you both stink of sweat, and all you can do is shrug your shoulders shyly.

könig won't hesitate to grab your hand, bring it over to his lap and take out his cock, having you jerk him off underneath the blanket while you're all watching a movie. all it does is leave krueger pissed off, jealous, and horny... you owe him a handjob too, now. :3

translation: mäuschen - little mouse

banner credit: saradika

[justblades]

๋⚝ being messy! boothill, gallagher, sunday

MINORS DNI, gender neutral! reader, drabble formatting. oral sex, penetrative sex, light bondage, praising. in honor of boothill's banner tmrw <3

GALLAGHER

it was upon mutual understanding that this will only be a one time thing. yet, the way he crashes his lips onto yours with fervor, his bulky arms wrapping around your torso tightly to bring more proximity, to ease the warmth and lust brewing in your bodies - makes you yearn for more. gallagher relishes the aftertaste of aperitivo and absinthe twirling on your taste buds, reveling at the lingering flavor of the cocktail you downed in one go earlier.

gallagher's breathing is far from stable at this point in time, he cums inside you once more, letting his satisfaction paint your insides white. amidst reaching his orgasm for the third time this long night, he continues to pump in and out, letting out a hoarse groan as he feels his cock erect again. "it doesn't stop." he says, breaking the kiss for a moment to glance at his dick. he draws a heavy sigh, feeling himself become more sexually driven.

"well, no matter. gotta make the most out of this one time occurrence, yeah?" the brunette asks rhetorically, leaning in for another passionate kiss. furthermore, he skillfully slips his tongue inside your mouth, this time, familiarity binds the two of you - he could taste himself in you and vice versa, making a perfect concoction to relish in full bliss. wasting no time, he rams inside deeper this time, filling you up as your legs begin to go numb from the overwhelming sensation.

he shows no signs of halting at every service he's offering, a perfect open mouthed kiss as you're buried in the solace of being towered and wrapped by his large figure, and an endless stream of libido coursing through his veins. he proceeds to pick up the pace of his thrusts, earning him more absent-minded, lewd noises gush out of your saliva slicked lips.

his girthy cock becomes coated by his own white juices, several drops trickling out of your hole the more frequently he hits your sweet spot. "feels good. . ." you manage to utter in between his impactful thrusts while he manages to let out a deep chuckle, emerging victorious as the intercourse felt more like who'll endure longer. a bizarre idea suddenly lit up his mind, evident as soon as the magenta dyed tie adorning his collar come undone from his own gloved hands - he snakes it around your neck instead in a blink.

confused, he does a swift knot and wraps the end of the fabric around his wrist. casting a focused gaze, he pulls the tie towards him, making your body jolt awake from the abrupt movement. gallagher inches forward, his golden copper eyes anchor from the neck tie up to your face, watching your melting expressions as if he were etching every second in his memory. "the view just got even more beguiling—" he pauses, out of breath as he continues thrusting into your walls. "—stay for a little longer like this."

SUNDAY

the situation he's in just got a little more taxing. he looks at the stack of paperwork laid before him, fingers massaging his temples in a desperate attempt to process everything. golden eyes drift from one document to another, his vision starting to get lost among the sea of words tangling together, a stairway to mental fatigue.

as an assistant, you come rushing to his aid and offer him two beverages of his preference, accompanied by a sweet snack to lift his spirits up, at least, his physical system. "mr. sunday, perhaps you can take a break." you query and set the tray on his desk table, bowing slightly as a greeting, although suddenly.

"i need to clear my head." with one simple sentence, you understood from the get go what he really wanted. this has always been a little secret, a guilty pleasure the two of you had in agreement, you grant him access to your body at anytime he wants, while you submit to his requests willingly. embarrassment wallows you whole, but sunday feels himself slowly drift into relaxation, proceeding to let his dick spring free from the stress, letting everything unfold naturally.

as the head of the oak family is a perfectionist and employ rules to abide by - his taste in oral sex can sometimes become a dichotomy to the mentioned quirks of his personality. betwixt the belief of instilling strict order and the bliss of being free in anything, he gets off on the idea of you being messed up, looking disoriented as cum overlays your features, yet another preferred stress reliever of him.

as you take all of him in with your mouth wide agape, your wet cavern wraps itself around his shape. his mouth tightly shut, stifling the threatening hums of pleasure to slip out his hushed lips. however, your eyes remain locked passionately with his, an aspect he deems tantalizing - among your usual attentive look, whenever these instances happen, he indulges in the fact that your eyes now cast a lascivious one, an obvious longing displayed for the highly esteemed individual. "that pacing is good . . ." he states, long lower lashes bat slowly as you continue to suck him.

lewd noises continue to reverberate inside his private vicinity, the sounds then die down as an authoritative voice arises. "wrap your tongue around it." another knack sunday has in encounters like this is that he enjoys submission - having the power to be in control, to dominate. you stick your tongue out and twirl it around the head of his cock in gradual motions, ensuring he feels every second of the sensation. slowly but surely, he feels the build up of his release, evident from how his hips buck along your rhythm.

the feud ends as soon as he cums, letting the white strings sprawl all over your features down to the clothing you don, marking darker patches from the sticky liquids. huffing for a brief moment to catch his breath, he then carefully shuffles his pocket and fetches a handkerchief, folding it into a tidy square as he wipes your cum stained face with the soft fabric. he displays a reassuring smile this time, one different from previously - the present feeling more sincere and intimate. "well done."

BOOTHILL

boothill believes in the art of giving - he has your legs rested on his broad shoulders as he stimulates your sensitive parts. a smug smirk carved on his lips, augmented teeth peeking with a boastful look painted on his features. "like it when i do that?" he queries, slate gray eyes focusing on your body language.

too overwhelmed to be capable of verbalizing any word you intend to deliver, he doesn't wait for an answer as he digs himself in you again, sucking the flesh to where you'd mewl the most in. sharp, static, what felt like needles struck your lower limbs, a familiar numbness gush through your body. "wait— not there!"

tears well up in your eyes, lips quivering. the cowboy revels in this, enjoyment prominent the way his cold iron hands grip the plush of your thighs. "ya taste too good baby!" he proclaims, one hand then proceeding to glide to your inner thighs. with his fingers, he ghosts a caress on the other parts of your sex as well as flicking the tip of his wet tongue over your hole. arousal continues to drip down, a cloudy color spilling the longer the oral sex dragged on.

a pungent scent of cum mixed with sweat wafts inside the place - you feel lost and at cloud nine at the same time. it felt ecstatic, but unreal as to how your head buzzes with euphoria. you couldn't get enough of the galaxy ranger pleasuring your parts in more ways than one, his tongue and hand makes a perfect combination to douse the flames of your lustful temptations. your eyes roll back the slower boothill goes with licking your part . . . drool slowly escaping past the margins of your lips.

he halts for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he watches you become disheveled from the overwhelming stimulation. desire sears inside him, a strong carnal urge to make you feel good even more. suddenly, he flips you around, your naked back facing him and your only support being his leaden, metal arms. he was cold to the touch, a surprising chill rides on your sweaty skin.

"i'll keep ya still darling." the male proudly states and leaves a chaste kiss on your nape. as the cyborg was left with no more mortal parts other than his heart and mind, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of being skin to skin. "however, i can't say fa' sure if i do this." a distinct accent laces his tone as he thrusts his fingers inside your hole, the glacial surface of his digits makes a polar opposite of your velvet walls.

endless strings of ejaculation spring out - it appears that all you needed was a tad bit of penetration for you to reach your climax. you heavily pant to desperately catch your breath, eyelids weighing heavy. "well? how was it?" he asks, curiosity dancing in his two monochrome hues.

[writing-for-marvel]

Day 1: Mile High Club

Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky start your honeymoon off the right way - by fucking in his private jet.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, sex on a plane, semi public sex, fingering, fingering in front of an unsuspecting flight attendant, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: the start of our honeymoon adventure! I hope you all enjoy all the fun smuttiness! Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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Bucky’s large, tattooed hand, adorned with a gold wedding band, is splayed on your thigh as his luxurious private jet roars to life, racing along the runway until you sense the drop in your stomach as it lifts off the ground and into the air.

Your heart begins to race as you feel Bucky’s hand slowly inch further up your thigh as the plane climbs higher in the sky. You take a deep, steadying breath as the force of the plane pushes your body back into your seat, appreciating the plush leather against your bare skin as Bucky’s electric touch reaches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your honeymoon hasn’t even technically started and he is already proving that he can’t keep his hands off you. Just one of the many reasons you married him in the first place.

“I can’t wait to finally have my wife all to myself.” Your newlywed whispers as his hand reaches the apex of your thigh, your heart races just that little bit faster at the prospect of being caught by the stewardess required to accompany you on the flight.

“Hmm, and what have you got planned for when we’re all alone my dear husband?” Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky’s cold finger slips underneath your panties and ghosts across your warm core.

A dangerously cocky grin curves onto his plump lips and even before he says the words to confirm your fate, you know he is going to make this a honeymoon you’ll never forget.

“I’m thinking about all the different ways I can ruin you and keep you stuffed full of my cum for the next four weeks.” He whispers seductively directly into your ear as his middle finger breaches your entrance. You inhale a sharp breath and bite the side of your lip as he pushes all the way in, smirking at you as if he knows this is just the beginning of every way he plans to ravage you.

A ding rings out through the cabin and before you can so much as flinch, an impeccably dressed hostess appears in front of you.

“We’re at cruising altitude, you can now unbuckle your seatbelts. Sir, is there anything you need?” She asks in a sweet voice, her tone indicating she either cannot see Bucky’s finger knuckle deep inside your dripping pussy, obstructed by the table in front of you, or is choosing not to acknowledge that fact.

Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you.

“To be left alone with my wife.”

The stewardess disappears as quickly as she materialised, but when Bucky adds a second finger to your pussy, stretching your walls by scissoring his fingers, your periphery goes blurry.

He picks up the pace, thrusting both fingers in and out of you relentlessly, his calloused thumb swiping over your clit with the perfect pressure he has learnt with experience does you in.

“That’s the spot, isn’t it darling.” He whispers in your ear as he curls his fingers to graze over the spongy patch inside you which makes you see stars. You nod but it’s superfluous, Bucky knows every inch of your body and is fully aware he’s got you figuratively and literally in the palm of his hand.

You grab hold of his veiny forearm to keep you tethered to reality as his motions bring you ever closer to floating off on a cloud of bliss.

“Cum for me.” Your husband demands. With a vigorous thrust of his fingers and a swipe of his thumb over your clit, the band in your lower stomach snaps and you comply with Bucky’s orders.

It is only once you’ve come down from your high that Bucky removes his fingers from your drenched pussy. He teases your lips with his slick covered fingers until you open wide and begin sucking on them, tasting your own sweet release.

“You know, I had a bed installed in the back of the jet just for this very occasion.” Bucky comments, nipping at your earlobe as you swirl your tongue around his fingers.

“What are we still doing here then?”

Bucky leads you to the back of the plane with your hand intertwined with his. As soon as the sliding door to the small yet private bedroom shuts behind you, Bucky’s lips attach to the column of your neck as every piece of clothing covering both your bodies gets thrown to the ground.

You’re held protectively in his arms as Bucky falls backwards onto the soft expanse of the bed. He kisses you assiduously as his hands roam your body, eventually making their way down to your ass, manhandling you to pull your body above his face.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Can’t believe she’s all mine for the rest of my life.” Bucky hums before diving in. He starts with licking one long stripe up your slit, and you can feel his lips form a grin against you as your thighs tighten around his head. “You taste so good. So sweet.” He eats you out as if he’s been fasting for months, when in reality he was between your thighs on your wedding night less than 16 hours ago. He switches between his tongue being buried in your cunt, fucking up into your puckered hole and slurping obscenely, lapping up all the juices through your folds, twirling the tip of his tongue around your clit.

“Bucky, please, I-, please.” Your hands grasp onto his hair, tugging harder as his fingertips dig into the meat of your ass. The vibrations of his voice and the plane as it races through the atmosphere sends sparks firing up the base of your spine through your whole body.

“Are you desperate for your husband's cock, Mrs Barnes?” He asks teasingly against your folds, knowing referring to you by your new title will only make you wetter.

“Yes, Buck! I’m fucking dripping - need you so bad.” You plead with a sob, your pussy clenching around nothing, the ache within you burning like a forest fire which could only be quelled with him deep inside you.

Bucky’s soft lips place a feather light kiss to your sensitive clit before his strong hands grasp your hips tightly, lifting you onto his thick thighs. Your mind is dizzy with lust and pleasure, but Bucky’s dazzling blue eyes, the same ones that were the first feature of his you noticed the night you met, stand out clearly in your haze.

“Then take it. Take it like the good little whore I married. Take every inch of this dick and show me why it’s yours.”

Bucky’s large, rough hands don’t leave your hips as you stroke his thick length with both your hands a couple times as you lift yourself above him, rubbing his bulbous tip through your soaking folds. Lining yourself up with him, you press your hips back down on him slowly, feeling him fill you up to the brim.

You let out simultaneous groans, your eyes never once leaving Bucky’s as you focus on the sensation of how deliciously full and satiated you feel, how his eyes widen and lips fall apart is exactly like the first time you slept with him after making this formidable mob boss prove he’d treat you right.

You’d never forget the feeling of the first time he thrust into you, the fervour in which he worshipped your body and the way those ocean eyes gazed at you like you were the most precious gem he planned on treasuring for as long as you’d let him. This hardened man, who strikes fear in the eyes of the toughest of crime lords, is soft for you and only you.

It was the moment you truly understood what sex could be like - should be like.

You knew then that there was no one else for you. That you’d eventually marry him.

Both your hands find his strong, tattooed chest to steady yourself as you begin circling your hips, grinding against him, moaning at the sensation of your puffy clit rubbing the coarse hair at his pelvic bone.

“Oh God, Bucky, you’re so deep.” With Bucky’s strong hands assisting you, you push yourself up and sink back down on his cock. He lets you set your own pace, finding the right angle where he strokes all the right spots that makes your knees weak.

You can feel his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips, his mesmerised gaze fixated on how he’s filling you.

“Fuck, baby, look at you swallowing me whole.” Once you’ve built up a rhythm, one of Bucky's hands navigates to your breast where he flicks your pert nipple with his thumb, the other moving to where your bodies join, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The pleasure feels like it’s coming from all directions, from both externally and within you, it’s too much and not enough at the same time, every nerve firing with pure euphoria, threatening to send you straight to heaven.

“I’m so close, Buck…” A sob bubbles up your throat, all cells in your body swelling with immense pleasure. More than ever you can feel each ridged inch of Bucky stretching out your pussy, every sensation heightened as with each rock of your hips you hurtle ever closer to your second high.

“Go ahead, my love, let go. Cum on your husband's cock.”

Ecstasy overtakes your entire body at his permission, your eyes roll backwards, your whole body seizes and your bouncing motions stop as your walls flutter around his thick, veiny length. But Bucky doesn’t let you off that easily, he grabs both of your hips and starts fucking up into you hard and fast, prolonging and heightening your orgasm with each graze of your g-spot, making your legs shake and you scream out his name so loudly you’re sure the pilots can hear.

You collapse into his chest as his thrusts become staggered, closing in on his own high. Placing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw, Bucky grunts, moans your name and stalls within you, ropes of his cum painting your walls.

You tap his strapping chest three times as you both pant, catching your breath cuddling up to one another. I. Love. You.

His embrace feels like home, even thousands of feet up in the air. You’re certain that no matter where in the world you are, James Bucky Barnes will always be your safe place.

“Now, let's see how many more times I can make you cum before we land.”

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Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

Hinny prompt: Harry dealing with Ginny’s new fan base.

Ginny is starting to get her first few fan letters. The harpies try and sort them but Harry spots a few on the creepier side OR at a game he overhears some fans obsessing over the fit new Chaser. Have fun with it.😉

This might not be what you meant by "fun," but right about now the most fun thing I could imagine writing was a situation in which horrible, misogynistic men get what they deserve. Can't imagine why... NSFW (language) - Please note, there's some offensive language in this one, included to illustrate how horrible these characters are; NOT meant to condone it. I hope that's clear in the tone.

It would be blasphemous to say it, but Harry strongly prefers attending Ginny’s away matches. 

The furor around the relationship between “The Chosen One” and the rising star Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies had reached dizzying heights. Fans of their relationship flock faithfully to Harpies matches in the hope they might witness Harry cheering for Ginny, or clapping for Ginny, or something equally mundane, made exciting and romantic only because he’s the one doing it. While bizarre and invasive to Harry, this parasocial fantasy is nothing short of a PR dream for the Quidditch Club. 

The Harpies administration had been thrilled to reap the benefits of this excitement, and consequently laid out Harry and Ginny’s relationship on a silver platter: whenever Harry attended a match in their home stadium, he was offered a private Top Box at a prime location, complementary Omnioculars, unlimited food and drink, and a large Weasley Banner adorning the wall behind. 

Ostensibly a generous gesture, but in reality a nuisance, because it meant every reporter in the stadium knew exactly where to direct their cameras every time Ginny so much as sniffed the Quaffle. They’d capture Harry’s reaction and then rush to print it in the paper the next day, with interpretations so loosely based in reality that Harry’s nearly impressed at the creativity.

Once, Harry had sneezed, and his pained expression in the leadup to it was painted as “trouble in paradise” for weeks because it had happened to coincide with Ginny scoring. 

On another occasion, Harry had spent much of a particularly chilly match with his hands in his pockets. Of course, the only explanation for such insane behavior was obviously to hide the nonexistent wedding ring on his finger, which clearly resulted from a secret weekend elopement in the aftermath of Ginny’s spectacular performance against Pride of Portree. 

“They’ve got a point,” Ginny had joked over their morning breakfast. “I did deserve a diamond after that match. What gives?”

“A bit late for that, haven’t you heard?” Harry had said through a bite of porridge. “We’re already getting divorced. I’m having another affair with Hermione at the weekend.”

“Damn,” Ginny sighed. “I wanted to have an affair with Hermione.”

Much more insidious, though, were the stories suggesting that Ginny’s signing and popularity was only because of her relationship with Harry. Ginny swore she didn’t give a flying fuck what the papers wrote about her, but Harry took to ripping every story that cast aspersions at her talent to shreds.

But, Harry had finally got one over on the press. He’d called an uncharacteristic press conference and made an announcement that, due to undefined “security risks” at away stadiums, he was unable to attend matches outside of Holyhead. 

The statement had been worth all of the ridiculous stories speculating about his lack of support for his girlfriend’s career, because it meant that he got to watch the Harpies vs Falcons match – donning a thick cap, sunglasses, and a scarf, in some cheap seat that no one would suspect Harry Potter of sitting in – utterly without audience. Sure, his view of the match leaves a bit to be desired, and he’s cramped next to a rowdy group of Falcons fans, but it’s wonderfully refreshing to swear angrily when Ginny is fouled without fear of a think-piece speculating about his repressed anger issues appearing in tomorrow’s Prophet. 

It’s one of his better lies, all told, and Harry’s inclined to celebrate his stroke of genius. 

It’s not until about ten minutes into the match that Harry is forced to concede he may have celebrated prematurely, as he reckons with the drawbacks to his little caper up close and personally. 

“HI! HO! FALMOUTH FALCONS! HI! HO! FALMOUTH FALCONS!”

The lads surrounding Harry are chanting with such an obnoxious, drunken fervor that Harry can hardly hear himself think, forget hearing the match commentary. They scream with such persistence for so long that they’ve nearly earned Harry’s begrudging respect, when the chant finally succumbs to raucous cheers as Falmouth is awarded a penalty.  

“Nice to have a bit of a doss match this week,” the bloke next to Harry remarks loudly after Falmouth scores their penalty. “Gives Wickford time to rest up before we play Puddlemere.”

Harry squints up at the speeding players above and confirms that Wickford, a thick-necked man and Falmouth’s star Chaser, is indeed speeding back defensively as the Harpies offensive formation takes shape, and not resting on the sidelines. Harry shoots a sidelong glance to his neighbors, perplexed. 

“Yeah, nice of the Harpies to carry on with an all-female squad,” another dark-haired lad chimes in. “I thought they were finally going to give it up after last season. What a joke.”

The first bloke, who Harry observes looks rather like Dudley, laughs ruefully. “Gwenog Jones won’t ever admit the problem, though, will she? They just don’t have the speed or the strength, everyone can see it–” 

Harry scowls. Pricks.  

“She clearly thinks the new recruit, Weasley or whatever, is going to make them competitive again, but–”

“Does she?” the Dudley-looking one snorts. “Or do they just want the Harry Potter fangirls to bring in the revenue? It’s a massive publicity stunt, honestly, just like the whole team.”

The three of them laugh, and Harry’s scowl deepens beneath his sunglasses. 

“I’m only hoping they bring back the swimsuit calendar this year,” the dark-haired one adds. “Weasley’s fit as fuck.”

The group murmurs their general agreement, and Harry takes stock of the hexes available to him. Might be time to dust off the toenail-growing one of Snape’s… But no. He can’t get hauled in front of Magical Law Enforcement again. Robards will sack him. 

“Yeah, the Harpies can fuck around with an all-women team, as long as they all look like that,” the Dudley-looking lad adds, pointing up at Ginny who is now flying overhead, and they all get a particularly good view of her from behind. The blond one jeers. “Wouldn’t mind seeing her strutting around on my calendar in a bikini.”

“I’d go so low as to call myself a Harpies fan for one of those,” the dark-haired jokes, and they all snigger. 

Sod hexing. Harry would quite like to kill them. He’s gripping the metal bars in front of him, knuckles white, imagining creative ways of doing it when Ginny - quite literally - takes matters into her own hands: all of their attention is pulled to the pitch as she feints, drawing Wickford into an ugly-looking lurch before she dodges and cannons a shot directly into the right goal. 

God, he loves her. 

“Damn,” the blond one whistles. “Fit and fair enough at Chasing, I suppose.”

“Potter’s a lucky bloke,” they joke. “I’d let her score on me all she wants.”

Yeah, Harry thinks darkly, today’s my lucky day.

Harry thinks he deserves a medal for the level of restraint he exercises, as the lads continue to offer lewd, sexist, and leering comments about Ginny for the entirety of the match. In fact, the only reason he manages not to strangle them is because Ginny, herself, is shutting them up far more effectively than he ever could. 

“Watch this, Robbins’ll catch her, look at the difference in wingspan–”

Ginny drops a beautiful pass to Gwenog who times her formation perfectly, and the Harpies score yet again. 

“Weasley’s tiny, once they let our Beaters loose on her she’ll be a goner–”

Ginny executes a perfect Sloth-Grip Roll to dodge an incoming bludger, and manages to whip a shot past the Falcons Keeper while dangling upside-down. 

“Knock her off her fucking broom!”

Wickford, clearly frustrated, fouls Ginny – hard. While the referee blows a shrill whistle, Harry lets out a stream of abuse, “Dirty fucking wanker–”

“Oi!” the Dudley-looking bloke next to Harry exclaims with glee. “Have we got ourselves a Harpies fan in our midst?”

Harry takes a measured, calming breath before answering, still staring up at the match above. “Yep.”

The group lets out a gleeful ooh. Harry knows it’s commonplace to give opposing fans a hard time at away matches, but these blokes haven’t got a clue how close Harry is to losing it. He’s about one more comment away from turning them into Aunt Marge. 

He claps when Ginny easily puts away the penalty shot, extending the Harpies already considerable lead. 

“Very progressive of you,” the blond one jokes. “Are they your girlfriend’s favorite team, or something?”

“Or something,” Harry answers through gritted teeth. 

They all jeer. “She’s got you whipped, eh? I hope the pussy’s worth rooting for a pussy-ass team like–”

“I’d watch my fucking mouth, if I were you,” Harry says, his voice low and dangerous. He realizes, dimly, that he must look far less intimidating than he’d like, with his ridiculous hat and sunglasses and scarf covering much of his face. Oh, well. Looks can be deceiving. He’s just finished up with seven weeks of an intensive dueling refresher course with the Aurors. He reckons he could incapacitate all three of them before they even had a chance to pull their wands. 

“Oooh, would you?” they jeer. “What, do you reckon if you cheer loud enough, Weasley will hear you and come over to thank you after the match?”

“Could she thank me too, you reckon?” the Dudley one adds. 

Harry can hear his own heartbeat angrily pounding in his ears. They’re all disgusting pricks, not worth a moment of his time or his energy, but he’s not stupid, either. He’d been, at first, when Ginny had originally signed with the club, and he’d just started paying more attention to the news about the team and the undermining, sexist undertones in all of it. He’d been shocked to see the nasty objectifying comments, the aspersions at their talent, the insinuation that the team was a feminist gimmick, not to be taken seriously. 

Hermione had humbled him with a sharp, “No,” when he’d asked her if she was surprised by it, too. 

He’s not as naive anymore. He realizes these blokes are watching their own team get shellacked by an all-female side, watching as Ginny plays elite Quidditch with their own eyes, and still they’ve got nothing but bullshit to say. 

Helpfully, Ginny chooses that moment to score yet another goal, her seventh. When Harry claps, they all join in mockingly. 

“Weasleyyyyy,” they call, with mocking, lovesick expressions. “Ditch the Chosen One and choose meee!”

Harry turns to them, and asks in a flat tone. “Is that the reason you’ve been rooting for such a shit team, then? You’re hoping Wickford will come and give you a cuddle after?”

“Oi!” the dark-haired one says. “Hang on–”

“That’s the only reason you’d be a fan of the fucking Falcons, isn’t it? If Wickford will take you home?”

“Nah mate, reckon all poofs are Harpies fans, aren’t you?”

The toenail hex seems woefully tame, all the sudden. “Are all Falcons fans pricks or is it just you lot?”

“Oi, relax mate,” the blond one jeers. “We’re just wondering how it all works. How many times have you got to wear a Harpies kit before they let you pull a leg over?”

“Dunno, how many times have you got to wear that Falcons kit for them to win a match?”

“Is that the new Harpies recruitment strategy?” the Dudley-looking one continues. “They only sign slags to the team, so they can shag together a fanbase?”

Harry pulls his wand so fast that they jump back, startled. “Say that again,” he growls, holding his wand in the man’s face. “Say it.”

“Watch yourself,” the blond one says, holding his hands up and pointing to his mate threateningly. “This one’s about to be an Auror, you’re about a second away from–”

What surely deadly threat Harry is a second away from, he’ll never learn, because just then, with a loud groan from the crowd, the Harpies Seeker pulls out of a spectacular dive with the snitch clasped in her fist, thereby ending the match at an embarrassing score of 260-10. 

“YES!” Harry yells, his wand dropping to his side as his eyes seek out Ginny in the air. 

He can’t remember ever finding a win so satisfying, and Ginny quite so attractive as she streaks across the pitch to hug Gwenog Jones in a midair heap, her red hair streaming behind her in the wind. When she lets go, she scans the section she knows Harry is sitting in. Looking for him, like she always does after a match, only this time she’s looking for an idiot in a shit disguise. 

He turns back to the blokes, fury and disgust with them still radiating in his bloodstream, and a reckless desire that he’ll surely regret later overtakes him. Fuck it, he thinks, and he begins to pull off his scarf. 

“What was it you were saying before?” he goads, pulling their attention back to him before they move with the rushing crowd out of the stands. “One of you arseholes is going to be an Auror?”

“I am, and I’ll curse you into next week, if you like,” the Dudley looking-one taunts. “Maybe then Weasley will give you a pity ride, if that’s what you’re hoping for–”

“Interesting offer, but I’ll pass,” Harry says, as he pulls off his sunglasses. A look of vague recognition sweeps across the blond one’s face, though the others merely look a combination of angry and befuddled. 

Harry replaces his regular specs and looks to the pitch just in time to lock eyes with Ginny - she’s found him in the crowd. 

She’s halfway across the pitch, but Harry can tell by the tilt of her head that she’s wondering why he’s gone and taken off half the disguise they’d laughed so hard about earlier. He waves, and despite their earlier agreement to forgo their usual public post-match celebration, she seems to get the message and begins flying toward him. 

He turns back to the blokes and finally removes his hat, revealing the still famously recognizable scar on his forehead. All three of their expressions transform into varying degrees of horror as they recall every horrible thing they’d said over the last hour, and connect just who they said it to. “What the fuck–” one of them mutters. “What the fucking shit– is that– Harry Potter–”

Harry stares directly at the aspiring Auror, memorizing his stupid features as he reddens. “I–” he stammers.

“I wouldn’t count on the Auror thing,” Harry spits. “If you’ll pardon me, though, I’ve got to congratulate my girlfriend. Maybe thank her later, for giving me so much to cheer for.”

He turns just as Ginny arrives to hover in front of him, windswept and flushed with victory and so ruddy gorgeous he can’t think. “You were so fucking brilliant,” he tells her. 

“I know,” she says with that cheeky grin he loves so much, and then she kisses him so soundly that he quite forgets the pricks openly gaping at them from behind. 

For a moment.

He pulls back from the kiss and turns to find them making a hasty retreat from the scene, but not before he hears the telling sound of a camera pop.

The ensuing stories plastered all over the papers the next day - Harry, pictured in his ridiculous disguise entering the stadium, their victorious kiss in the stands - ensure that Harry’s never able to sneak surreptitiously into the crowd of an away match ever again. 

A trade worth making, though, when Harry gives an exclusive interview detailing every disgusting thing the three men identified in the background of the photograph had said, and when Ginny writes a cutting op-ed for the Prophet highlighting the ways in which the press had created the very narrative those three pricks had parroted. 

Of course, it doesn’t solve the problem overnight, nor did they expect that it would. But, it moves the needle, just a bit. When Ginny reads an excellent article detailing the Harpies’ unique formations without once mentioning Harry or questioning whether they might be more effective by signing male players, she smiles. 

The rejection of Winston Winthrop’s Auror application is just the frosting on the cake.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Big Boy

Kinktober 2023 - Day 3

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Petite!Fem!Reader

Kink: Size Kink

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: You meet Bucky in Romania and you show him a good time for the first time in 70 years.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving) , hickies, size kink, overstimulation, missionary), slight!inexperienced!Bucky, lots of fluff, smitten!Bucky

a/n: Hello everyone! Here is Day 3! I'm working on the days I missed but it might be a while! Hope you enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Bucky has been in Romania for almost a year and he liked his crappy apartment, taking odd jobs, but his favorite thing to do was come down to the fruit market outside of his apartment. His favorite stand was the plum and baked goods stand run by you. The most beautiful dame he’s ever seen and he loves talking to you because you listen and treat him normally, not like a freak which everyone else treats him like. They avoid him like the plague and don’t ever talk to him but you? You will stand and talk to him for hours no matter how many people avoid your booth but you couldn’t care less. He was so charming and yet with a shyness that you found it so adorable. You would talk his ear off which he found adorable and he did want to ask you out, he was terrified if his past caught up to him then you would get hurt in the crossfire. 

But then, you asked him out for a cup of coffee. He said yes. Then one date turned into two and now it was after your fourth date that he found himself in your small house outside of the city. It was small but neat, wall to wall bookshelves, somewhat modern kitchen with a cozy reading nook in the bay window and it was perfect. It smelled like you making him calm as your scent surrounds him. You walked over with two cups of tea and handed him one as you sat down beside him. 

“I know it’s not much but it’s home.” You said as you sip your tea. He smiled and shook his head, “It’s beautiful, doll. It represents you.” He said as he sipped his tea then set the cup down. 

You set your mug down and turned to face him, “I have a confession.” 

He suddenly became a little nervous but swallowed silently. “What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath and bit your lip before speaking, “I know this is only our fourth date and I don’t want to rush or anything but… I really want you, tonight.” You whispered as you peered up at his curious blue eyes. 

“O-oh, doll. I-I would love to, it’s just it’s been a while and I’m not sure how well I would… um… perform.” He said hesitantly and you nodded as you listened. 

“I totally understand that and we don’t have to do anything tonight. I just wanted to bring up the subject.” You whispered sheepishly but his super hearing caught it and he sighed but gave you a warm smile. 

“How about we start and you just show me what you like?” He offered with a genuine smile which made your heart warm. 

You nodded and bit your lip, “I would like that.” You smiled and you slowly leaned over to cup his cheek with one hand and your lips ghosted over his. 

You leaned up to press a soft and loving kiss to his lips. Bucky’s cheeks warmed as you went slow with him and his large hands grasped your waist gently and helped you straddle his lap as you two continued to kiss passionately and slowly. He smiled against your lips and he pulled back to kiss down your jaw and neck slowly remembering the few times he was with a girl and how they liked their neck kissed. You gasped softly as you felt his teeth gently graze against your skin, your hands moved up to his hair combing through it gently feeling the soft locks through your fingers. He had washed his hair for tonight because you two were going to a fancy restaurant so he decided to get cleaned up for you which he’s thankful he did. 

You pulled his head back up to kiss his lips passionately as you moved your hands down to start unbuttoning his shirt slowly, once undone you ran your hands up his chest softly. He froze under your touch as you got close to his metal arm and you felt him tense and you pulled away to look up at him. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked cupping his face gently.

“I… um… lost my arm in the war and it’s really messed up.” He said self-consciously as he laid his head back on the couch. 

You sighed and pulled his face down to look you in your eyes. “I don’t care about scars or missing limbs or anything like that. You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met and no matter what you look like, it doesn’t matter to me. I like you for you.” You whispered to him and he smiled softly as his chest warmed with your words and he leaned down and kissed you passionately. You smiled against his lips and pulled him closer and your hands moved back under his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders and you pulled away to look at his bare chest. “You’re so handsome.” You whispered as you caressed his chest and up to his shoulders. You leaned up to kiss his lips deeply and he smiled against your lips and his large hands squeezed your hips softly as he held you close to him. 

He looked down at your small body on his lap, he loved how small you were compared to him. It turned him on like he’s never been before, not before the war, not ever. He felt an overwhelming attraction to you, you were his diamond in the rough and he just wished that this wouldn’t be ruined, but he didn’t want to think of that, he just wanted to enjoy the moment with you. To feel your small body pressed against him having him get the skin to skin contact he craves. 

He unzipped your dress and let it pool around your hips revealing your dark blue lace bra and a peak at your matching panties making Bucky groan softly and he leaned down and pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts as his hands squeezed the meat of your thighs. “You’re so beautiful, doll. So soft and small.” He whispered against your breasts as his strong hands moved down to help you shimmy out of your dress. You reached behind you to unhook your bra and threw it somewhere in the room making Bucky groan at your newly revealed skin. “You’re going to kill me, doll.”

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him passionately, your breasts pressed against his bare chest. “Take me to bed, Jamie.” You whispered against his lips making him smirk and scoop you up without any effort. You squealed softly as you wrapped yourself around his chest and he carried you to your bedroom down the hall before gently placing you on the bed. He pulled away and finished taking off his shirt then unbuckled his jeans and undoing them as you slid back against the pillows and let your knees fall open for him. 

He growled softly before he quickly kicked off his jeans before climbing onto the bed and laid in between your legs pulling them over his shoulders as his lips pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs making you gasp softly at the sensitivity. “You’re so soft and pretty, sweets. Can’t believe I have you to myself.” He mumbled against your skin, making you smile wider. 

“Sweet talker.” You smiled as you threaded your fingers through his hair tugging him closer to where you wanted him. 

His hands reached up to yank your panties down and off your body, revealing your soaked folds to him making him groan low in his throat and he pulled you closer by your thighs. His lips engulfed your clit sucking softly making your hips jolt up and his tongue moved down to lick through your folds. You cried out softly arching your back against his face as his tongue slid through your folds and up to your clit. The coil in your belly started to tighten as his lips sucked on your sensitive bud making your hips buck up and you pulled his face closer to your cunt by his hair. He doubled his efforts as he felt your cunt pulse against his tongue making your moans grow louder and you arched against him. The coil tightened as you were pushed over the edge cumming hard on his face making him groan as your taste flooded his senses. He helped you through your orgasm as your thighs shook around his head and he pulled away with your juices on his face and a smirk crossing his lips. 

“You taste so sweet, doll.” He purred as he climbed up your body to connect his lips with yours as his hands pulled your legs up around his waist. You helped him shuffle off his boxers as you two made out and he held you close to him. His large body covering you and pressing you against the mattress which helped ground you as you felt his thick cock press against your weeping hole. 

“You feel huge, baby.” You whispered as you pulled away from his lips to lock eyes with his blue ones. 

“It might be a tight fit.” He chuckled, making you smile and kiss him deeply and you reached down to help him line his cock up to your hole. He slowly started sliding the thick mushroom tip of his cock into you making you moan and your eyes water at the burn. “Deep breaths, baby doll.” He whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist and gently pressed you against his chest. He slowly continued to slide into your tight cunt groaning at your walls squeezing him tightly and he leaned down to kiss you deeper. 

“A-ah, so big. H-hurts.” You whimpered quietly and he reached down to rub your clit softly helping turn your pain into pleasure. 

“I’m right here. I got you.” He whispered against your lips as he rested his forehead against yours. He finally slid all the way home making him groan and moan at your walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. You moaned his name and whimpered softly at the underlying pain but your pleasure overtook the pain and eventually the pain went away and you pleaded with him to start moving. 

Bucky linked your fingers through his and pinned them above your head and slowly started thrusting in and out of you. You moaned his name as you arched your back and squeezed his hands. He groaned as your walls sucked him in as he pulled out then thrusted back in. Your eyes locked and he pressed a warm kiss to your lips making you purr softly. He pulled back to look down at your lower belly as he thrusted in and out of you, you had a slight bulge to your belly as Bucky slid into you and out making you whimper at the stimulation to your g-spot. 

He slowly took you apart piece by piece making you moan and whimper and cum over and over again on his cock. He loved to hold you close as he made you cum and feel every twitch and shake of your body. He finally couldn’t hold his orgasm back and came deep inside of your overstimulated cunt and made sure that you took all of his cum and he held you close as you crashed from your highs together. He helped you to the bathroom to clean you two up then you two laid on the bed together. You laying on his chest as his large hands traced shapes on your bare back making you smile and snuggle closer to him, happy to stay with him forever no matter what tries to pull you two apart.

[mikrokcsmos]

That That (I Like That)

synopsis; in which your boyfriend’s loud moans and groans wake you up from your sleep at 4 in the morning and you’re about ready to throw hands — and so is he, but for completely different reasons.

pairing; vlive!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

genre; twinge of angst, mainly fluff and humor, Weverse live au

rating; PG-13

warnings; the word damn (x2) and suggestive dialogue/themes, just boyfriend koo in all his glory tbh

w/c; 1,283

a/n; don’t mind the poor excuse of a banner I tried to make on my own. shout out to @sftk0o for the perfect icons 💕

You tried to ignore it, you really did; believing the first loud moan you heard was a part of the not so innocent dream you found yourself in that involved your boyfriend only moments ago. Eyelids closing as you relaxed your body once more, head snuggling back into your pillow to begin the descent back into said racy dreamland — only for it to be interrupted by a loud distanced slam, your body tensing in fear, heart racing.

“DAMN.” He grunted, no – moaned out loud, you picturing his face instantly – brows pinched in concentration and nose scrunched cutely, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. Can almost hear the low whine in your head that he always does just as he finishes—

Hands immediately searched the bed next to you for a warmth that was non-existent, all that greeted you being the cold fabric of the sheets that have been pulled back for quite some time it seemed. Another loud slam, accompanied by the same noticeable whine following not even a second later has you pushing yourself out of the bed, but this time not in fear, no.

This time it was because of pure and unadulterated anger.

Running on pure adrenaline, head in a fog and mind racing with worst case scenarios to what you’re about to witness has your bare feet bringing you closer and closer to where the noise continues to resonate from — the kitchen.

Just as you’re about to turn the corner, you freeze, hand on wall, a drawn out ‘damn’ piercing your ears that has your eyes welling with bitter tears on the verge of falling. Nails digging into the white of the wall, you push off, utilizing the momentum to push you the rest of the way into the kitchen and in full view of the sight in front of you.

Your voice dies in your throat, before it reaches your mouth, and you remain silent.

Jungkook has his head face down into the edge of the table, fists clenched on either side as his arms flex from the action. Quietly, you edge forward towards his hunched over form, eyes scanning the room around you for any other human other than yourself, and your body sags in relief as you start to piece together the cause of the grunts, moans, and curses.

Food. Fucking food. You should’ve known.

The aroma fills your nostrils, causing your own mouth to salivate and you weren’t even hungry. The smell of freshly sautéd chicken, scallions, and melted cheese wafts in the air along with the nutty flavors of sesame oil from the large skillet that still sits on the burner of the stove built into the table, most of its contents long gone. A bowl of microwaveable white rice sits next to a clenched fist, the other one now raised in the air as if preparing to strike someone, a spoon nestled in the last remnants.

Jungkook, still high off his food induced fever, pushes himself up to immediately unleash the finger guns of a choreo you know all too well at this point, his hips thrusting in time to the tune you have no doubt is engrained in his brain at this point as well as yours.

Despite your best efforts to remain as quiet as possible, you not missing the way his phone is suspiciously propped up against a stack of cookbooks neither of you have bothered opening yet that lets you know he’s currently live on Weverse, a puff of laughter from your lips causes him to pause mid hip thrust, wide doe eyes landing on your amused figure.

“The food was that good, hm?”

A sheepish, guilty grin is all you get in reply, his feet moving him towards you. When he’s close enough, his head dips down to brush a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Did I wake you?” He quietly questions, brows furrowed in worry when he notices the red that is prominent along your eye line. “Did you have a bad dream? Were you crying?”

The questions are in rapid succession, and you have to place the palms of your hands against his lightly stubbled chin, pressing his cheeks together and making his lips pucker at you like a fish to get him to stop talking long enough for you to explain.

“Your wanton moans are what woke me up, made me think that there was—,” you trail off, voice barely a whisper. “—other activities taking place in here that didn’t involve eating food.”

The sharp intake of breath he does let’s you know he understands the hidden meaning behind your words, his hands coming up to pull yours off of his face, and bring your body flush against his. A frown is now prominent on his usually smiling lips.

“Baby, I hope you know I would never cheat on you. Especially not in our house, and in our kitchen. This—,” his large hands trail down your sides, leaving nothing but warmth in their wake. “—is all I’ll ever want or need. You are it for me, jagi.”

A heat makes it’s way up your neck and to your cheeks, his words warming your heart and the inner guilt that festers within you unraveling.

As you stare into his brown eyes, you see nothing but truth and love, nothing but future and promise.

“I know. Im sorry for even allowing the thought to cross my mind. It was stupid of me to think. Besides, I don’t think I have to worry about any person stealing you away from me.” Your fingers interlock behind his neck, arms hanging loosely around his neck. “Food on the other hand? Now that’s what I should be concerned of. That chicken had you making noises I only ever heard you make in the bedroom.”

His head drops into the crook of your neck as he lets out an embarrassed whine, warm breath and lips that brush against your collarbone making goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shiver. His arms circle your waist in a vice grip as his upper body relaxes against your shorter one.

“Sleepy, baby?”

“Mhm. ‘m tired.” He mumbles into your skin sleepily, voice laced with a newfound exhaustion due to his full and satiated belly.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Yep, just gotta turn the live off first.”

“Jeon Jungkook, you and your random late night lives will literally be the death of you.”

He reluctantly straightens up, arms leaving your body to stretch up into the air above his head as he lets out a loud yawn.

“No, they won’t, baby.”

“Need I remind you of the candle incident?”

Eyes squinting at you, tongue in cheek, he remains silent and you know you’ve won this round.

“I’ll be waiting in bed, don’t take too long, okay?”

You take a step back as he takes a step forward, lips chasing yours for a quick, yet equally as lingering kiss that makes your breath catch in your lungs. Noses touching, he whispers so only you can hear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, and your foodgasms.”

You snicker and turn to make a fast getaway, his fingertips only having enough time to graze the swole of your ass as you skip away from him and disappear around the corner until you’re out of sight.

It only takes five minutes for his sock clad feet to slide into the entrance of your room, and two seconds for his body to land on yours as you erupt into a fit of laughter on your shared bed that turns into soft sighs, grunts and moans that you know is because of you this time.

[daniellewritesfr]

𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲

Paring: Jon Snow x f!Reader

Summary: You arrive in Winterfell lending aid to House Stark but seeing Jon brings back lost feelings you both share.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, kissing, fluff.

Word count: 1.4k

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rode through the gates of Winterfell the familiarity of the high stone walls and the sight of Stark banners bringing back the memories of your childhood. You had, in the past, spent many years in Winterfell growing up with the Stark children. Your father became a good friend of Ned Stark; while fighting alongside each other during Robert's rebellion. Leading to many years spent in the castle. 

You arrived in the courtyard of Winterfell, the cloak you’re wearing doing surprisingly little to suppress the cold winds of the North. You had been called as a bannerman of house Stark to lend aid and fight the white walkers beyond the wall. You look around, all the people of Winterfell seem to have solemn faces ‘it’s quieter than I remember’ you think to yourself while dismounting your horse stirrups rattling, the stable boy rushes over to take the reins from your gloved hands leading your horse away. Your men follow you, dismounting their horses, gathering their things and moving supplies, all of a sudden the yard is buzzing with movement.  

“Y/n!” you turn at the sound of your name to see Sansa walking towards you, “lady Stark” you bow slightly she lets out a small laugh as she embraces you, “you mustn't call me that y/n” she smiles “well you are lady of the North are you not” you ask “that I am yes, but to you it will always be just Sansa” she states “very well than Sansa” you smile “take me to Lord Snow.” 

The castle is darker than you remember, as Sansa leads you through the doors of the great hall, you catch sight of Jon, the young man you once remembered as a solemn and brooding child.  

Walking past the large tables in the middle of the hall you pull off your gloves, you look up to see Jon sitting at the high table reading a letter “Jon” Sansa says he looks up, his face breaking into a warm smile when his eyes land on you. You can’t help but smile back. You haven’t seen Jon in a long time, not since before he left to join the Night’s Watch. “My lord,” you take a slight bow, he stands and begins to walk towards you not saying a word, his gaze lingering.  

Finally he speaks “My lady”. He lets out a small laugh before wrapping his arms around you, you can feel the warmth radiating off of him even with the layers of fur between you, he lets go resting his hands on your shoulders before they move to cup your face.

 “Look at you” he mutters, eyes raking across you he pulls away “I didn’t think you’d come.” 

“I’m sworn to House Stark my lord” you reply “it is an honor to fight for your family.” 

 “My lord” Jon repeated “since when were you one to be so formal”? He teased.  

You can’t help but smirk, while walking past him with your hands clasped behind your back making your way to the table running your fingers along the edge,the teasing tone in Jon’s voice luring out your own wit. “And here I thought that being declared King of the North automatically earned you the title of ‘my lord’.” 

Jon chucked, a low rumble escaping his throat, “yes it does except, we grew up together there is no need for formality between us.” 

“I suppose you're right” you agree, your voice lightening. “However don’t let that get to your head, a little formality never hurt anyone.” 

Jon raises an eyebrow playfully. “Is that so? Then perhaps I should start using ‘my lady’ whenever I address you.” 

You laugh “you can certainly try but, I can’t promise I won’t retaliate” 

Jon shakes his head, a smile dancing on his lips. 

A fortnight had passed since you'd first arrived back in Winterfell, and tonight you were dining with the Starks and their men in the great hall, enjoying the loud conversations and laughter ringing throughout the room. It had been a long while since you’d allowed yourself a good time. You spent the night laughing and socializing with the others. Not noticing the way Jon was looking at you. 

As the talking and laughter slowly began to die, people began to retire to their chambers, you being one of them as the fatigue from the day's ride was finally wearing on you. Standing up making your way out to a long hallway lined with sconces providing a small amount of light as you pass various chambers while walking to your own.   

Opening the door you’re greeted with warmth radiating from the fireplace, you walk to a small table in the corner of the room picking up a few letters that you had yet to open, before dropping them back down rubbing your temples knowing that the night would be full of endless reading.  

Jon hadn’t put much thought into what he was about to do, maybe it was the wine or maybe it was just pure ignorance he thought to himself, as he was making his way through the dimly lit corridors. When he arrived at the door, his heart was pounding in his chest taking a deep breath before he raised his fist to leave a soft knock. 

While on your 3rd letter of the night you hear a light knock at your door, getting up from your seat at the table curious as to who it could be. Unlatching the door expecting it to be Sansa you were startled to see Jon standing on the other side.

“Jon” you said surprised “it’s late” 

For a moment he didn’t say anything, his gaze lingering on your face. 

 “Evening” he said “I hope I haven’t disturbed you”   

“No, it’s alright” your eyes scanning his face for any indicator of what he was there for. Tilting your head slightly to one side. “Has something happened?” you asked 

“No, no, may I come in?” 

“Yes of course. Please come in.” 

Moving aside Jon steps through, making his way to stand in front of the fireplace. He looks nervous, still thinking something had happened you ask once again. 

“Jon” you pause, he looks up, his eyes finally meeting yours. The look on his face starting to worry you. 

The silence hung like smoke in the air as you awaited his response. 

 He mumbles, moving one of his hands to run through his hair, turning back to face the fire watching the flames dance. You cautiously walk up behind him reaching to put a hand on his shoulder, he turns to face you leaning into your touch.

 Long forgotten feelings wash over you.   

“Jon, please tell me” you insist, your hand now resting at his jaw he leans further into your touch before covering your hand with his. You stayed like this for a short time relishing in the moment, the unspoken understanding filling the space between you. Removing his hand from yours to cup your jaw as he draws himself closer, his eyes searching yours for permission.

You quickly nod, before he closes the gap between you, lips brushing together. Your lips part slightly, letting his tongue slip inside. His hand glides to the nape of your neck, then moving to your waist, pressing your bodies together. You moan into the kiss, hands running through his hair while he trails gentle kisses leading from your jaw to your collarbone, small breaths escaping your lips. 

Pulling away, his gaze meeting your own.  

“You have no idea what you do to me” he whispers. 

The look in his eyes was evidence enough revealing what he felt without uttering a word. Yet he continues to speak. Hands coming back to hold your face.

“I-” he pauses for a brief moment gathering his thoughts. “You are my every thought” He breathes. “The only person able to ground me, make me feel whole. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of you. How I wasted all those years believing I had no chance, only to be standing here right now. With you.” 

Tears begin to swell in your eyes threatening to fall. 

“You consume every part of me, body and soul.” He gently wipes away the tears that begin to fall. “You are everything to me.” 

You smile at him, leaning into his touch. 

“I love you.” 

The words feel heavy. 

He starts to speak afraid of your rejection, you cut him off colliding your lips together for a brief kiss before pulling away resting your forehead against his, shallow breathing filling the room. 

“And I you.” 

The words so lightly spoken, Jon wasn’t sure he heard them. 

Leaning in to kiss you softly once more, running a hand through your hair, his eyes full of nothing but affection. “My lady.” 

[pebbleisgay]

OKAY SO THE PRISTINE CUT.

happily ever after, right?

i... think i *have* to @blacktabbygames because i've been going insane taking notes on one of the new routes and i hope this is entertaining to quite the incredible dev team.

now I have been going insane for the better part of an hour theorizing and taking notes going through Epilogue: Happily Ever After. so if you haven't done that route and don't want spoilers, please evacuate the post. go on and scroll right down.

Epilogue: Happily Ever After

We open the route by throwing off the narrator by being in a room with only one door, only one exit. Note that it has windows, this will come in handy later.

It is followed by walking *up* the stairs.. which is contrary to any other route. Not even the Tower- named literally after a tower! Follows that. It's always "If she really lived here, slaying her would be doing her a favor." but we can't say that. because we're emerging into a better, fancier place.

We head up the stairs and enter.. a dining room. Sitting at it is the princess, with the dagger around her neck and the narrator suggesting that it would be so easy to kill her, just like that. But for the sake of this, let's say you followed what I did and decided talking to this.. interesting Princess was a better option. Notable pieces of the room are the tapestries and the torches, which too, will come in later.

But the most notable part of this room is that we can see a shadow looming over her. A few seconds before, the voices had commented on how odd it is that they're missing Smitten- and yet, here he is. But we can't hear him.

Which brings me to the point I want to make here,

Epilogue: Happily Ever After is a role-swapped route.

From here on, The Princess refers to whoever is imprisoned. The Savior refers to whoever is leading them to escape. The Narrator refers to whoever is speaking only to the Savior. Long Quiet, Shifting Mound, and The Echo will be called by their names.

We enter the route in a room with only one door, and a window (or like, 8.) These are the traits of the basement that the princess is locked in. Even in routes such as the Razor where the basement isn't really even truly that, the basement has a view of the outside- just a little bit of its light peeking into the cell. Only one room in the story has one door, and it's the basement. Even the Path in the Woods has a second option, if you're chasing the Stranger princess.

Leaving this room leads us *up* the stairs, as if we were leaving the basement. The Echo can't make his classic "doing her a favor" joke because this time around, the Long Quiet is the one escaping the basement. To further this point, the Shifting Mound is the one who calls out to us from the top of the stairs.

Now the dining room is FULL of points that guide us towards this conclusion, but the first one I noticed is that the room has the traits of the cabin's main room. It has a door in, a way out (obscured by the mirror / narrator / some form of the Long Quiet,) it has the Pristine Blade on a Table, and it has accessories on the walls that fit the theme of the route. As the Shifting Mound this time around is a queen, she has banners and torches and large stone walls.

And not only is the Shifting Mound wielding the pristine blade, but she has a figure looming over her, "controlling" her without being able to control her emotions or how she feels about this place, and describing the place itself. We know this figure is Smitten, but we can't hear him. The Shifting Mound this time has even taken up the Savior's mentality, a timeloop mentality, saying "It'll be perfect if we just do it again," and understanding the narrative's drive and what she's "... supposed to have ever wanted."

So if we're the Princess, and the Shifting Mound is the Savior.. And the Narrator is with *us*.. then one of us has to be with the Savior.

Voice of the Smitten, in the Epilogue: Happily Ever After takes the place of the Narrator.

As you continue your way through a conversation with the Shifting Mound during this route, it's Smitten's perception and dictating of what the environment in the room is like that controls what happens. I mean, the Shifting Mound even goes to directly say, "The Voice that whispers sweet nothings in my ear. I think he made this place for us." Which is the Narrator's entire purpose. External to the chapters themselves is the roles they play in the story, and right now, Smitten is playing the Narrator. Which unfortunately makes him a controlling asshole.

As we whittle through options of dialogue and in fact, options of what to do, from the Shifting Mound's perspective, they can't be repeated. Just the same as the way the Long Quiet experiences when traversing the different routes, options that have already been taken are greyed out. This is why the food "decays", as there's no new result from eating the exact same food. Similarly, the game that the Shifting Mound suggests to stall- questions and options that intend to stall, a very Savior strategy to understand her situation better- decays through its options until she downright says that she has no more ideas.

Funnily enough, through this same sequence we as the Long Quiet experience a very.. Princess experience. Based on the way the Shifting Mound perceives what is said in Chapter 2, we wind up with a different Voice, a different Quality. In my playthrough we wound up buddied with the Opportunist and he took up the deceiving and dangerous qualities, similar to the ways that in Chapters 1 and 2 the perception of the Princess changes her personality and qualities. Trying to get up to leave the table results in us being held down by the shadow, although it's not the same hands that loom over the Shifting Mound. Infact, we're held in place, shackled even, by the wrist. We can't get up and leave until the Savior offers it to us. "That's just how it works here," informs the Shifting Mound. After all, with the Narrator not being on our end, it just seems to be that way.

When she finally offers for us to leave, after we've drained every dialogue option and extinguished every torch, the Shifting Mound is the one who insists we leave. Who puts the possibility of freedom into this world. In a truly Savior moment, she remarks, "We can't sit here forever. That part of us is over." She drives the need for us to leave. And in the process, the Echo realizes that we need to leave, too.

We climb the stairs with our queen. She leads us up them (Savior actionssss) and if you didn't know any better, you could even think that this is an image of heading up stairs. With the light at the end of the stairs and the shadows in our direction, it's not a far call. We see her back as she opens the door.

Importantly, when we reach the top of the staircase, it's her choice of whether we leave or not. Again, Savior things. And if we were the princess in the Damsel route, the narrator would've been quiet for the Savior thing right about now. Should you head outside together, caring for each other and arriving at the end of the route, we still follow what she'd like to do.

So we dance under the stars. Typically the Shifting Mound would have enveloped the vessel by now- like in the Eye of the Needle or the Damsel (original) where the happy ending is cut juuuust short.

Once again, as the Princess of the route we've seen the route in the progression that one usually does. Basement -> Stairs -> Cabin -> Outside. But as the Princess, the Long Quiet no longer decides where the route ends. If you've taken the options to be her companion at this point, you get to dance under the stars with the Shifting Mound, just as she wanted. Only when she considers the route done, when the dance is complete, does the Shifting Mound take away its vessel. Shifty waits for us to get our dance in. :)

Now if you've read all the way through this- holy shit, really???? Wow. I'm honored. But if you have then surely you've gotta be asking this question, too.

What triggered the role-swap?

My running theory is that when we make the choice and perceive the princess and world in a way where the solution is to wait forever, the roles shift then. The minute we take a dialogue option indicating that we could want to stay in the cabin forever, Smitten becomes controlling of the narrative and the Shifting Mound becomes self-determining and the Long Quiet becomes reactionary.

I think the role swap happens in Chapter 2.

...buuut I don't really have much about that! It would break my heart to hurt the Damsel like that again just to pull two or three direct quotes, so if you've got input or something to suggest pleaaaaaase let me know! Or really, just anything! I've been going insane about this for several hours.

thank you!

ps, here's a bonus doodle for making it this far. savior shifting mound and long quiet princess <3

[daisies-daydreams]

Full (Kento Nanami x Wife!Reader Drabble)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Wife!Reader Category: Smut Tags: Heavy Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Referenced Multiple Orgasms, Marking, Creampies, Dirty Talk Word Count: 599 Adult Content Banner: @cafekitsune Summary: You feel your sanity begin to slip as your husband fills you for the nth time of the night. A/N: Just something quick I wrote because baby fever is hitting me hard rn 🤐

When you suddenly blurted out that you wanted children at the dinner table, you didn't expect to be nearly folded in half on your king-sized bed, your hole spread wide open by your husband's hot, twitching girth.

"F-Fuck, (Y/N)," Kento panted heavily, his hot breath fanning against the tender hickey on your neck as he snapped his hips forward. Your nails sank even deeper into his rough, muscular back as his tip rigorously kissed your swollen cervix.

You have no idea how long you've been like this - days...hours...time itself seemed to dissipate as his hips eagerly slapped against yours. Your legs twitched as you felt his large hands squeeze the back of your knees, the inside of your plush thighs litters with hickeys and bite marks.

“K-Kento,” you panted, your head spinning from the countless orgasms he’s already given you. Your lower back curved as you felt one of his thick veins massage your g-spot, a surge of pleasure forcing a moan from your swollen lips. Your husband tenderly pressed his forehead against yours, his warm breath fanning across your face as his heavy balls slapped against your slick, puffy folds.

“I’m here, my love. Tell me what you need,” he groaned, a gentle warmth swimming in his two pools of deep hickory. Your toes curled again as his girthy cock rubbed every inch of your velvety walls. You swallowed thickly before parting your lips.

“More, K-Ken. I need more,” you moaned. Your husband’s pace suddenly picked up as his thumbs caressed the sides of your knees. A symphony of your moans and his grunts filled the bedroom as his dick stretched your already well-bred pussy wide open.

“A-Ah, fuck,” he clenched his jaw as he vigorously snapped his hips forward. You could feel the warm, sticky cum from his recent orgasms start to ooze past the seam where your sexes wetly joined. A primal part of you wanted to tell him to slow down, to keep everything inside…but with one final push, you were sent tumbling over the edge.

Your head snapped back as you cried his name, your pussy instantly clamping down on his massive length as your beloved released a guttural growl.

“(Y-Y/N)!” you heard through the thick fog of your pleasure. You gasped as you felt his cock pulse deep inside of you, rope after rope of his thick, hot seed spilling against your gummy cervix. Stars danced across your vision as your walls slowly began to stop clenching, your legs still shaking in his tight grasp as he emptied himself inside of you with a soft grunt.

Both of you were left utterly breathless against the bedsheets, your lower bodies doused in a lewd concoction of your combined juices as the two of you panted heavily.

“I think…that’s good enough for tonight,” you murmured with a tired smile. Nanami’s deep chuckle sent a shiver down your spine as he gingerly pecked your lips. He slowly lowered your legs as the feeling of fullness began to register deep inside your womb. You sucked in a sharp breath when you saw how swollen your lower belly already looked, thoughts of carrying his baby flooding your mind.

“Let’s stay here for now. I’ll clean you up in a little bit,” your husband suddenly whispered as he smoothed his thumb over your cheek. You smiled softly and closed your eyes as he rested against you, his cock still plugging your puffy entrance. You felt him smirk slightly against your skin as he murmured.

“I want to make sure it takes, after all”

༺♥༻

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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