#they got very heated very quickly
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wanologic · 5 months ago
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in no way was civility achieved
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starry-bi-sky · 29 days ago
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*grips Shen Qingqiu by the shoulders*
aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to crack under the pressure of the system and the robbed autonomy of being forced into a role you had no choice in but have to play anyways? don't you want to buckle under the realization that, to you, no matter what you do your life is going to end in a horrific death? Whether that be under Luo Binghe's hands or the System's?
Don't you want to realize that no matter all the good you have done and the lives you have changed and saved, you're still standing at the ledge of a cliff with a sword to your disciple's chest?
Shouldn't it be you at the edge instead? Balancing on the crumbling dirt's end of death on either side, and you can either walk into it or be forced?
don't you want to go apeshit?
#I AM SO NORMAL YOU GUYS I PROMISE *visibly foaming at the mouth and gritting my teeth so hard you can hear them crack*#svsss#scum villain#shen yuan#shen qingqiu#scum villain self saving system#HI YES I MAY NOT HAVE READ THE NOVEL AND ONLY BEEN HERE FOR A WEEK BUT I AM. OBSESSED. FIXATED IF YOU WILL#luo binghe standing at the edge of the endless abyss and he sees something snap in his shizun's eyes like metal creaking under#the pressure of the deep sea. or like heat rising too quickly. the steady slow snap of someone hanging on by a thread.#i dont think i've fully understood sqq's characterization howEVER. i think i've got enough of his character down to try and twist it the wa#i think could happen. forgive me if this isnt in character or anything ajhf#anyways i love isekai anything and i think the system could slowly drive someone who didnt ask to be here insane#SY adjusts rather quickly from what i've heard but what if he DIDN'T. what if it wasnt fine what if he was trying his best and it was#taking its toll because apparently trying his best just wasnt enough. his stubborn refusal to view the people around him as people#but as characters following a script is very frustrating to me but also it works in my favor for this. look at the best way to break him is#*stares at SQQ* i think he should go apeshit. as a treat. skin a man alive SQQ. bite someone. rip out their throat.#i know thats prolly not his character but what if it COULD be. what if it IS. people are so nuanced and niche and can change at the turn#of a dime and SQQ has been forced into an unfavorable position and frankly traumatic experience. he could change or he could not and#isnt that FASCINATING? to erode or to stand tall. are you copper or are you a canyon. will you change colors and stay the same or will you#crumble and shear and become something new? when facing the elements when facing the inevitable what will you become?
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medicinemane · 2 years ago
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Can I just for a minute complain as someone dyslexic about how when I was young everyone would always be like "well look up the spelling in the dictionary"?
Just now, I go to type a word and I spell it something like "erevicobly", which is obviously wrong, but... no idea
Well, I throw it in the search engine* and find out it's irrevocably (didn't spell it right there either, but got it close enough spellcheck could fix it)
Now you might notice something here, which is if I'd looked it up in the dictionary, I wouldn't have found it, no matter how long and hard I searched, because I'd be looking under "er" not "ir"
So do you see why that advice made me mad as hell as a kid, and I stand by my feelings today?
*literally one of the few ways search engines are a blessing is being a really great way to find spellings
#like my typing is great with very few mistakes; but my spelling while mostly alright these days isn't great#cause like... literal diagnosed dyslexia since I was a tiny kid#and let me tell you; no matter the reason; people will shit on you so much for poor spelling (no matter the age too)#fucker; we speak english; everything you said was a lie#there's not (consistent) rhyme or reason to it; and sounding it out is terrible advice cause we've all got fucking accents#and sometimes even if you don't the word is fucking worcestershire and you're fucked#actually gets me a bit heated how many good teachers I had who still acted like this#I actually have many strong opinions on linguistics and teaching despite not being a linguist or a teacher#give me descriptivism or give me death#prescriptivism can burn in hell where it belongs#and one thing that technology has 100% made better (at least for me as a dyslexic adult) is being able to spell well and quickly#it's an aid and an accommodation to me; we just don't look at it like that#I literally can't even spell accommodation; but you get to see the right word there#I have a vast vocabulary... I just can't fucking spell half of it#so prespellcheck you just kind of... had my writing look a lot worse and be a lot harder to parse#the main thing that helped with my spelling wasn't school or anything... it was everquest#you want to be able to type to people and be understood; there's no spellscheck or anything... you work to get it right quickly#mmos are a great way to teach typing if you don't have voice chat#similarly it's actually thanks to tumblr that I'm a quick typist; zero formal training with it and sucked through my teens#was a quick chicken scratch typist... pretty fast; but I pecked#through typing a lot of messages and asks to people on here and wanting to do it quickly I stumbled on something pretty...#close to what I think they teach; though I'm pretty sure there's gotta be some differences#it's nothing formal for one thing; it's all muscle memory; the fingers go where they go#but I can type pretty fast and accurately with my eyes closed#and it's just cause... I wanted to say things to people and say it quickly#eh... I hope I kill myself soon#... it seems out of nowhere; but that's just how my brain works; this is stream of consciousness more or less so... figured I'd leave it#anyway... there whatever this is... is#mm tag so i can find things later
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nexus-nebulae · 21 days ago
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getting so so fed up with the fact that i can't stop my phone from updating. it's killed my sleep tracker apps multiple times just bc of a stupid security update. it wakes me up in the middle of the night (today it was at 3:30am!) by turning on FULL BRIGHTNESS WHITE SCREENS (when i literally never ever go past even 10% brightness on this thing and often need MULTIPLE dimmer apps when the page is all white). on multiple occasions it's updating in the middle of watching a video or even in the middle of a brushstroke in an UNSAVED drawing. it disables every single notification until i interact with it so calls and alarms literally just don't go through whatsoever. it never warns me with a notification it just updates out of nowhere. it makes half of my apps super fucking buggy every time. i fucking hate technology nowadays why do i have to literally break my phone's warranty and fuck with its internals and possibly brick the entire device just so it doesn't disable my fucking alarms and force me to miss important calls and appointments THAT COST ME OVER 100$ ON NO-SHOW BTW
#I'm just glad it did this TODAY and not. tomorrow. when I'm going to NEED to be woken up VERY VERY EARLY#because early voting was so swamped i was physically unable to do so#the lines were so long in VERY physically inaccessible areas so even though i had my wheelchair i wouldn't have been able to wait in line#not to mention the sun and heat would make me sick very very quickly#i was already getting sick while in an AIR CONDITIONED vehicle just bc i was directly in the sunlight#it's 4:30 am for me rn#and i have a headache and am exhausted#but bc I've slept more than 4 hours it's physically impossible for me to go back to sleep so. hooray. fuck me ig#and i can't just. like. cover my phone screen so it doesn't bother me#bc. my alarms have to work SOMEHOW. and since i literally am incapable of sleeping without earplugs now#i HAVE to use my alarm the same way my mom does (she's Deaf so she NEEDS it to be brightly flashing)#and i can't use my phone flashlight for it bc it genuinely hurts my eyes so goddamn bad#this is the only thing that works that doesn't actually hurt me in some way i DO NOT have alternatives#I've tried the lamp alarm like my mom has but it gives me migraines#bc it's flashing from solid complete darkness to full brightness so fast it just hurts so bad#and bc I've got a mold issue in this apartment my migraines get triggered by the tiniest fucking things now#even just a few minutes of walking out of my room while my mom's lamp is going off can set it off it's annoying
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reploidbuddy · 4 months ago
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My friend found me a bootleg squishmallow-like Silver and he looks so stupid I love him so much
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gifti3 · 5 months ago
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if i ever get "a lot" of money i will def move out of texas...
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classyrbf · 4 months ago
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SHE SAID IT'S HER FIRST TIME! — NANAMI KENTO
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SYNOPSIS...older bf!nanami finds out he’s your first time and he intends to make it very special
INFO...older bf!nanami x virgin fem!reader, age gap (earlier 20s, early 30s), virginity loss, consent checks, praise, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy eating, penetration, slight blood, slight crying, creampie, nanami grows kinda feral, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Having Nanami as an older boyfriend was such a joy. The maturity, thoughtfulness, communication, love, commitment, and patience you received from him was more than you could have ever asked for. You were always so open with him, telling him everything and just being the annoying girl friend you were. But, there is one thing that you’ve kept hidden for the last six months of your relationship.
Every time things got heated between you Nanami while making out or getting handsy, you always backed out last minute telling him that you “weren’t ready” and he always understood and respected your boundaries. Though, you are ready. If you were to lose your virginity to anyone you’d want it to be your sweet loving boyfriend. But voices in the back of your head start to make you overthink, wonder if he’ll even want you anymore if you confess to him.
It isn’t until you’re here on his bed, hands tangled in his hair while kiss him slowly, passionately. His hands are roaming all over your body, still careful to be respectful. You’re pushing into him, smiling in between kisses. “Have I ever told you how much of an amazing kisser you are?” He chuckles, peppering kisses along your jawline.
A blissful sigh escapes your lips before you answer, “no.” You shake your head, his lips traveling lower down to your neck. Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, enjoying the moment. His tongue glides along the skin of your neck, gently sucking and kissing, earning little whimpers from you as a reward. His hand grabs at your leg, hooking in over his waist as he pushes his hips into you.
Your breathing grows shallow, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. You gulp, feeling things grow more intense with each passing second before you push Nanami away. “I’m sorry, Kento, I just—”
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand you want to take your time with this kind of thing.” He gently grabs your hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His brows furrowed as he studies your features, eyes wandering every where else but into his. “What’s wrong, hm? You know you can talk to me,” he says in the most smooth voice, one that makes you wanna spill every secret. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. “Sweetheart?” He draws out the pet name, he knows something is on your mind.
“Ken, I feel bad for keeping this from you for so long, but,” you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, “I’m a…virgin.” You finally look in his eyes, clenching your jaw. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, ears ringing loudly it almost drowns out your heart beat.
His lips part, eyes widening at your words. Deafening silence falls upon you like a tidal wave and you feel the embarrassment rush in. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything I…I’m just gonna go.” You quickly scramble to your feet, grabbing your sweater from off of his bedroom floor. Maybe those voices in your head were right. Why would a man like Kento want anything to do with an inexperienced girl like you, compared to a woman who would know how to please him, give him a what he wants.
Just as you were about to walk out his bedroom, you feel a tug at your arm pulling you back until you hit his broad chest. “Where are you going?” He asked, looking at you. “I never said to leave, sweetheart.” He walks you back over to the bed, taking your sweater from your hands and placing it on the back of his chair. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for the next words to leave his mouth. Eyes follow his every movement, watching the way he walks over to you and kneels down in front you, grabbing your hands in his. “Look at me.” And you do, eventually, meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
You find it hard to speak, to even get a peep out. Nerves are shot and it feels like your stomach is twisting in knots. “I just thought that—”
“That I’d be upset you’re a virgin?” He asked, putting it all out there. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sweetheart,” he chuckles, flashing a smile at you, “you’re too cute for your own good.” He caresses your cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so nervous each time we’ve made out.” He licks his lips, taking a deep breath in before speaking again, “listen, we don’t have to rush into anything. You should’ve just told me, but I understand your feelings.”
You blink a couple of times, your heart rate finally drops, feeling more comfortable with the situation. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders, and even more importantly, you were glad Nanami took it so well. “But, I am ready.” You look away from him.
“What?” His brows furrowed, confusion written on his face.
“I’ve been ready, just been scared, nervous…I don’t know.” You shrug, your voice getting quieter with each word you say.
His hand comes up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he directs your gaze back towards him for the millionth time. “Are you asking me to be your first?” He asks in such a gentle tone, eyes carrying a look of adoration in them. Sheepishly, you nod.
“Always wanted it to be you, Ken. You’re so kind to me, and so patient,” you admit.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first.” He kisses the top of your hand, soft lip pressing against your skin as he stares into your eyes. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?” He smirks.
Everything in you is telling you to pounce on this man and go at it like animals with how he was treating you. It only made him a hundred more times attractive than he already was. Your lips find his as you both fall back onto the bed, resuming the make out session from minutes ago, only this time it’ll actually lead somewhere. The kisses felt more feverish, more passionate, something that’d you been craving this entire time.
“Can I take your clothes off?” He asked, placing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll take mine off too.”
“Yeah.” You nod, feeling his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. The fabric slipped over your head, your first instinct was to cover your chest, feeling completely vulnerable in this position. His hands carefully undid your pants, pulling them down along with your panties, discarding the items of clothing on the wood floor. You covered yourself up, shutting your legs and holding your chest.
As you watched him get undressed, your eyes landed upon the obvious tent in his shorts, leaving you turned on. His body seemed liked it was carved from the gods, toned biceps, shredded six pack. He looked like he could just easily toss you around, put in whatever position he wanted. Not to mention, you could see how big he was through his boxers, your nerves starting to wrack up again as you began to wonder if it’d even fit. And once he pulled them down, your eyes widened and worry flooded your face.
Nanami let out a light laugh at the look on your face. “What’s the matter?” He asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs.
“Do you think it’ll fit? It’s just…really big, Ken.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander. He was thick, and slightly long, which is reasonable excuse for your worry.
“It might hurt a little, sweetheart, but that’s why I need to prepare you, yeah? Make it feel good for my sweet girl. Now, don’t hide yourself from me, okay? I wanna see all of you, praise all of you.” He leaned over, kissing your lips again, trailing down further with each one. His hands replaced yours, gently groping your tits, squeezing them in his hands. “Such soft and pretty tits.” He kissed each one. “Can I suck on them? I promise you it’ll feel good.”
Once he gets your approval, he wastes no time, his lips latching onto your hard nipple, hot tongue swirling around the bud. His eyes fluttered shut, a muffled moan escaping his lips. Your hands find themselves in his hair, little pants and whimpers leaving your lips at the foreign sensation. His other hand pulls at your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he gets lost in thought. He pulls his head up, hazy eyes staring back at you. “Doing okay, baby?” He asks.
“Yes, please keep going.” You bite down on your bottom lip, earning a smile from his as he moves over to your other nipple, tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive skin before taking it in his mouth, suckling on it. “Mmm, Ken,” you whimper, tugging at his hair.
“Feeling good?” He places kisses all over your tits, his touches so gentle. You buck your hips up towards him, grinding against him. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re feeling needy, aren’t you, baby? Go on, you can tell me.” The flat of his tongue lays against your nipple again, slowly licking, teasing you.
You bring your hand up to your face, covering it, too embarrassed to look at him, to let him hear you. But with each flick of his tongue more whimpers spill out of you, overflowing. His warm lips press kisses to your sternum, traveling down towards your stomach, getting lower and lower until you jolt up. “What…what are you doing?” You ask, dumbly. It was clear what his intentions were with his mouth just inches away from your cunt.
“Just sit back and relax.” He caresses your side. “Open up for me, wanna get a taste,” he murmurs. He gently pushes your thighs open, scooting lower on the bed. His mouth slightly parts, eyes gravitating towards your wet cunt. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he chuckles, looking up at you. He rests his head against your thighs, lips kissing your skin, worshipping you, savoring you. He plans to tease you as much as possible, he wants you ready.
You body twitches when you feel his fingers ghost over your throbbing cunt, light touches making you yearn for something you’ve never even had before. He kisses down your thighs and towards your pussy, pausing when he finally reaches. He looks up at you for approval and when you scoot your hips closer towards him with the cutest whimper, he dips his head down between your legs and presses the slowest kisses on your clit. The way you gasp makes him smirk, he wonders how you’ll sound when he uses his tongue.
Finally, you feel the flat of his hot tongue dip between your soaked folds, pushing its way up your slit and finding your clit. You sit up on your elbows, brows furrowing in pleasure as Nanami wraps your his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place. He moans against you, pulling you closer towards him as he starves for more of your taste.
He flicks his tongue across your clit, his chin coated in your juices before he moves his tongue lower, tongue fucking you. You bite down on your plump lower lip, quietly moaning while your eyes watch his every movement, like you were studying him. His tongue slithers back to your clit, circling it before he gently sucks on it. “Hah, fuck,” you gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his blonde locks of hair.
He lifts his head, licking his lips to not waste any drop of you. “Hey, pretty girl, can we try something?” His voice is gentle, a sense of security in it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The pad of his thumb rubs your clit in circles, his other hand caresses your thigh. “Wanna try fingering you while I eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for me,” he explains.
You gulp, nervously looking down at his hands. “Will it hurt as much?” You ask.
“Might hurt a little, but it’ll help. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I never wanna hurt you.” He sits up, moving closer towards you.
You nod slowly, “okay,” you meekly say. Nanami, wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting your leg around him as you both lay on your sides.
“You ready?” He asks, kissing your cheek, his fingers rubbing your slick over your entrance and back over your clit, trying to get you prepared. “Just gonna do one finger for now until you want more,” he whispers into your ear. Slowly, he slides his thick digit into your entrance and you immediately let out a pained sigh. He removes his finger, pressing another kiss to you cheek. “Take your time, baby. You’re okay. Hold on to me if it gets too much.” He continues rubbing your clit in slow circles until you give him the nod of approval to try again.
He pushes his finger past your folds, feeling your walls clench around him as he goes inch by inch. “Mmm.” Your eyes screw shut as you cling onto his broad shoulders, feeling the sting of the stretch. He finally gets it all the way through and you’re panting, clawing at his skin.
“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassures. “Hey, look at me,” he grabs your face in his direction, “it’s okay.” He kisses your lips as you whimper against his. “I’m gonna start moving my hand now.” You hold onto him tighter, the burn making you wince as he pulls his hand back and pushes his finger back in, slightly gaining in speed.
You can’t seem to look away from him, melting into his touch as the pain slowly turned to pleasure, feeling your body accept him just like you wanted this entire time. He presses his forehead against yours, bodies pressed up against one another as you fight back the urge to kiss him until you’re breathless. Your hips rock into his hand, following his movements. “Want more,” you whimper, nodding at him.
“Want more, pretty? Yeah?” He pecks your lips, carefully sliding his ring finger into your entrance. You whine at the stretch, taking in a deep breath when you feel his fingers curl up, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your cunt squelches around his fingers, sucking them in. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, working fingers faster until you’re a moaning mess.
Wet kisses make their way down your neck, moving lower down to your chest as he repositions himself at the end up of the bed, fingers still curling inside you. He pushes one of your legs back, eyes intently watching the way your pussy takes his fingers so well. Without warning, the flat of his tongue presses down your swollen clit. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, gripping at the sheets below you. Your body shivers with pleasure, the sensation of his tongue and fingers sending you to cloud nine.
Your head falls back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, legs threatening to close around his head. He slurps your pussy, tongue working its way through your folds to get every last drop. He’s moaning at your taste, breathing heavily through his nose. His hand pushes your leg back farther, nearly up to your chest, as he works hard to drive that orgasm out of you. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cry out, clutching at his hair, pushing his head down when he sucks on your sensitive clit once more. “Ken, baby, I think—fuck!” You squeal, rocking your hips on his face. Your legs close around his head as your orgasm arrives, body quivering, and every touch is heightened. That doesn’t stop Nanami, low eyes watching how prettily your back arches off the bed, your walls squeezing his fingers. “Hah! Ah! Yes!” You moan.
Nanami finally lifts his head, chest heaving up and down as he looks at you with the most love in his eyes. “Fuck, baby, you did so good. Come here.” He rushes to plant his lips on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His dick is throbbing, oozing pre from the tip just from watching you cum. “You alright?” He asks, petting your cheek.
“I’m okay.” You nod. “Thank you.” The sweetest smile spreads across your face, one that makes his chest fill with warmth. “But, I think I’m finally ready.” You look down towards where you two meet, only inches away from one another.
“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable,” he says softly.
“I promise I am. Just…go slow,” anxiousness riddled your tone.
“Of course. Let me know at any time if you wanna stop.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. The nerves build in your chest, and your stomach fills with butterflies. He repositions his hips, rubbing his length through your folds, smearing his precum. He lightly groans, slowly moving up and down, nudging your clit with each thrust. Nanami notices you watching, he can see you’re still nervous. “Baby, look at me, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He gently grabs your face, staring into your eyes before his fat tip pushes its way through your folds. Your eyebrows raise in surprise before furrowing. He goes as slow as possible before removing himself, letting you take a breather.
You spread your legs further before another attempt, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pushes into you again, inch by inch you feel the stretch, the stinging sensation making you grit your teeth. “Ah!” You bury your face in his neck, when you feel his hips finally meet with yours.
Tears fall down your cheeks, and he’s quick to kiss them away. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let’s stay like this for a minute.” He wipes your tears, massaging your thighs as you try to accustom to his size. “Gonna start moving now.” He pulls his hips back, his length coated in a mix of your juices and slight blood. “Oh, your bleeding baby.” He looks at you with the most empathetic expression.
“Mmmph, sorry, I’m sorry.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as it came to mind that it was most likely on his sheets.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s completely normal.” He kisses your lips as he pushes his hips against your again, the head of his cock grazing over a sweet spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?Hah, my sweet, sweet girl—fuck,” he breathily chuckles. And now he’s moving faster, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like you never want to let go. “So fucking tight,” he grunts.
You feel so full of him, like he was made for you. His dick dragging along your walls, his hands holding you close, wrapping around you as he whispers praises in your ear in the most sweetest voice. Your eyes roll back, nails leaving marks on his skin, your toes pointed. He’s fucking you into the mattress, but being oh so gentle about it. “It feels so good,” you mewl as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.
“This pussy was made for me baby—oh shit—taking me so fucking well. You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He presses into you, each thrust sending your mind spiraling as shivers run down your spine, your body covered in sweat. Nanami squeezes you tightly, kissing your neck, and nibbling at the skin.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” It feels like your breath is being sucked out of you, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. “Gonna cum!” You cry out. “Hah—yes, yes!” He keeps the same rhythm, tip of his dick kissing your cervix before your shaking under him.
He holds you tightly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as you cum around his dick. Your hands cup his face, searching his eyes. “That’s my girl, let it all out,” he says. He can feel you clenching down on him, the feeling making his dick throb harder. “Always be my good girl, right baby?” He asks. And all you can do is nod, when he starts fucking you faster, almost like he’s grown feral. “It’s good that you know because I’m about to fuck you like you aren’t.” He pushes your knees to your chest, lifting your hips slightly so that he reaches the deepest parts of you. “Nngh, fuck!” He grunts.
“Ken! Oh fuck, fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, the bed rocking and creaking with each other his hard thrusts. A hand clasps over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your screams of pleasure.
“Pussy feels so good, sweetheart. Can’t get enough—fuck—I’m sorry,” he heavily pants. Strands of blonde hair cling to his forehead, eyes fixated on watching his dick disappears in and out of you, your pussy creaming around him, leaving a white ring around the base. He can feel you clenching down on him again, your nails leaving crescent marks in his forearms as you’re cumming for a third time tonight, barely able to form words. “Atta girl. Look so pretty cumming on my cock,” he smirks.
Your back arches into him, legs quivering as he thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier. “Nnngh, shit,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum—ah!” His brows furrow as he fucks you harder, a primal feeling rises in him as he thinks of cumming inside of you for the first time ever. “Baby,” he says with desperation, “baby, let me cum inside you.” A rosy red spreads across his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.
Your arms reach out to him, dragging him down for kiss, legs locking around his waist as you push him closer to you. Nanami groans into the kiss and you swallow every last one as his seed fills you up, coating your walls. He slowly fucks you, making sure to get every last drop of his cum in you before pulling out.
“Oh my god, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. You laugh with him before he rolls both of you over, you now on top of him. He caresses your cheek and you melt into his hand, a blissful sigh leaving your lips. “You did absolutely amazing.” He smiles. “You doing okay, though?” He wonders, fingertips tracing patters on the small of your back.
“Yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes shut, “I’m doing great actually.” You smile. You rest your head on his chest. “Thank you, Ken.”
“No, thank you. I’m glad that you trusted me to be your first, honestly. It means a lot to me.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You’ll always be my girl.” He continues tracing your skin.
“Really?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Promise me?” You pout, batting your lashes.
“I promise.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lips before you press a kiss to it. He chuckles at the small gesture. “Let’s get in the shower, together, yeah? Maybe order some food? You deserve it.”
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misaamoure · 3 months ago
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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭:
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝…!
⋅ ˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬:
“Yes,” Sylus threw his head back, exposing his adam’s apple. “Just like that.”
Things had gotten a little heated on the couch in the living room.
You two had been watching this old ass movie tied to a soundtrack in Sylus’s vinyl collection as a pastime, and had clearly gotten distracted.
He had been very periodic and methodical with his caresses and touched, before finally leaning over and whispering in your ear, “instead of watching a movie, why don’t we make one?”
Stupid. How predictable.
Sylus was beyond hot though, so you let it slide.
Turning away for a moment to roll your eyes, you swing your leg over his lap to straddle him.
And that’s how you two ended up here.
You’d never had a makeout session so intense.
You felt his hands all over you… you felt like you were on fire.
You were also more than positive that your wetness had leaked all the way through your panties and pants.
“Oh!”
Your train of thought was interrupted when Sylus thrusted right up into you.
It felt so good… you could feel his hard dick pressing right into your clit.
“You shouldn’t give away what you like so easily, sweetie,” He gave one last squeeze to your tits before moving his hands down to grip your waist. “You’re giving me such a large advantage.”
Jesus Christ he talks too damn much.
You didn’t particularly feel like arguing with him today. Sure, it could be fun, but what you really wanted was to shut him up.
Deciding to take the initiative, you repositioned yourself to sit right on his hard dick, and started to roll your hips back and forth.
Sylus inhaled sharply, something you didn’t miss.
Grinding on him slowly and sensually, you feel his hands twitch on your waist as you kissed down his jawline to give his neck a sharp bite.
The sound of Sylus’s heavy breathing and moaning only egged you on further.
“Fuck, kitten,” He shut his eyes tightly, throwing his head back. “Wait…”
Sylus was going fucking crazy.
Why did it feel so good? It was just a little kissing and grinding.
He suddenly felt like a horny teenager all over again.
But it felt so fucking good… you felt so fucking good. Rarely did you ever have the chance to get on top like this.
Maybe he should let you do it more often.
It was so out of character for him, to be moaning and panting like this. His head was a mess.
His boxers were a mess too, all the precum he had been leaking.
The electrifying feeling of your wet cunt dragging over his cock was driving him over the edge quicker than he’d like to admit.
“Wait, please,” Sylus felt fucking neurotic, begging like this. “Y/N… wait…”
It wasn’t long after that Sylus felt himself cum in his pants. Hard.
Holding you tightly by the waist and panting up a storm.
Oh my god… there’s no way he…?
You quickly sat up on your knees, lifting yourself off of his lap to see with your own two eyes.
And he did! There was an unmistakable wet spot right where his dick was.
Fuck… it was so erotic.
𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞:
Unintentional dry spells. It was common between you and Zayne.
He was always busy at the hospital and you were constantly running around to kick wanderer ass.
But you two always made that lost time up.
In fact; you can say with full confidence that you preferred the sex after the build up.
There was a particular intensity that came with it that simply couldn’t be replicated.
Nobody else saw Zayne with this level of passion but you.
It was his day off and he had invited you over.
While you two had been once sitting on his couch, things had began to get heated after Zayne initiated a kiss with you, stating how much he missed you.
It was rare for him to verbalize exactly what he felt so boldly.
Oh he was so sweet. The sweetest man you’d ever met.
Cut to you being on top of him with him laying on the couch below you.
You don’t even remember when you got on top of him. Well… not that it mattered.
Not when he was making you feel this good. He was the only thing on your mind at the moment.
“Y/N… please,” You felt his grip on your waist tighten as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Wait…”
Hearing him beg and plead with you was making you unbelievably wet.
You didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t stop. It was too good. And you’d been waiting for him for hours.
With every pass of Zayne’s hard cock over your clothed clit you became more and more aggressive.
“I’m not going to last like this,” He said breathlessly. “Please, my love, enough…!”
Oh my god was it your birthday?
Making Zayne cum in his pants sounded maddening.
He was under you losing his mind.
Zayne could feel how wet you were through all the layers you two were wearing.
The delicious friction of how perfectly you were grinding on him was bringing him to his climax all too quickly.
“Y/N… I’m-”
Digging his fingers into your hips, Zayne came all into his boxers.
Shit… you drove him crazy.
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bunnis-monsters · 4 months ago
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A bunny hybrid reader that notices a male fox hybrid following them and watching from a far. Naturally you get nervous cause foxes prey on bunnies! But it turns out he’s very shy and wants to court a cute chubby bunny but doesn’t know how to. Maybe he’s also a soft dom with praise kink? 🤭
NSFW
warning: chasing(slight predator/prey?), breeding, praise kink
You had felt eyes on you since the moment you entered the forest you usually collected herbs from. It wasn’t exactly unusual to feel watched considering many other hybrids called the forest home… but today it felt… different.
You spotted a fleck or red, the shade making your fight or flight kick in.
Instantly you began sprinting, dropping your basket and booking it back to your cabin. You didn’t dare turn around, your poor heart racing as your fluffy bunny ears picked up the sound of running behind you.
“W-wait!”
You cried out in fear at the sound of your pursuer calling for you to stop, shaking your head. “N-no, go away!”
You reached your home, quickly locking your door and peering out the peep hole as your fluffy cotton tail twitched nervously.
There was a fox hybrid outside on your porch, sniffing the air and rubbing his face against every surface he could… was he leaving his scent there for later?
“Please come out… I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.”
This happened nearly every day for a month. The fox chased you, nearly running you over before you got into your cottage at the end of the day.
That was until you weren’t fast enough.
The fox had been studying the way you move, when you took the shortest of breaks to catch your breath, and when you quickened your pace again to get away. Bunnies were masters at escaping… but foxes were very smart.
You knew something was different this time. Call it instinct, call it just coincidence, but you noticed that he wasn’t running after you as fast as usual… and his eyes were following your every movement the entire time.
Like he already knew he was going to catch you… it was just a matter of time.
You were too slow as you turned a corner, slipping on some pine straw and crashing to the ground. In seconds he was on top of you, and all you could do was close your eyes and hoped he killed you quickly…
But his jaws never closed around your neck. After a few moments of silence, you opened your eyes to see him butting his head against you affectionately, his tail swaying behind him.
His eyes were half lidded, staring down at you with infatuation and adoration.
“I’ve finally got you, little bunny.”
He was absolutely glued to your side now, clinging tightly to you as you hesitantly made your way home. The fox seemed absolutely smitten, sometimes softly nipping at your fluffy ears or neck, startling you.
“So pretty… you smell so, so good…”
After dinner he curled up with you, his fluffy tail swaying as he kept rubbing his scent on your neck. Could he tell that you were close to your heat? Is that why he had become interested in you?
“I’ve wanted you for so long… you’re cute and just the softest thing I’ve ever seen… but it’s hard approaching a bunny when you’re a fox.”
Your cheeks heated up as he pressed against you, your cotton tail wagging furiously when his bulge rubbed against your clothed cunt.
It wasn’t long until your next heat cycle, and it was clear that he knew it too. He continued to purr as he grabbed hold of your hips, guiding your bunny cunt over his bulge slowly.
When you let out a stifled whine, he smiled, giving your soft bunny ear a nibble. “Mmm, that’s a good girl. You’re so soft and pretty, let me take care of you, sweetheart…”
Within seconds he had your panties off, his fingers stretching your whole. As they pumped in and out of you, his lips met yours in a needy kiss.
His tongue explores your mouth, entangling with yours. It was hard to think with all these new sensations…
“Come on, bunny… lemme see that pretty pussy of yours, hmm?”
You shyly opened your legs, and he moved to position his cock at your entrance. At this point you were whining and bucking your hips, ready to be mated.
It was reassuring when he held onto your hand as his cock sunk into your fat bunny cunt, his face burying itself into your neck.
“F-fuck, so good… god…”
His grip on your hips tightened, the soft flesh warm against his hand. He’d never had something so soft and cute underneath him… you were amazing…
It felt too good, his cock was rubbing and touching all of the best spots, making your clit throb. As soon as he noticed, he moved his hand to rub circles around your clit while he picked up speed.
As he fucked into you, whining into your neck, he said the cutest things.
“I love you… love you so much, so fucking pretty…” he blubbered, his teeth grazing against your neck before he bit you.
“G-gonna… gonna knock you up, okay? Gonna be my cute little mate…”
Those words had your walls fluttering around him, your toes curling as the two of you came together.
After coming down from your respective highs, he became a bit shy again, giving your cheek a tentative lick. “You did well, pretty girl…”
You simply butted your head against him affectionately, returning his soft purrs.
Now, you had a mate, a sweet one at that. You didn’t have to worry about other bunnies bothering you when a fox called your cottage home.
———————
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog
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foldingfittedsheets · 4 days ago
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There was this park near where I grew up. I remember we’d just moved to the area so I was around six and we drove past and saw this waterfront area. My parents decided to check it out so we went for a walk. It was a lovely park, there’s a lazy slough, lots of trees, extremely picturesque. My parents ambled along the trail enjoying the nature while my siblings and I ranged around in their orbit like excitable moons.
Then I saw something odd. Something vibrantly alive down by the water that was entirely the wrong color. I called back my vital scouting info and my family gathered around me. We looked down the steep verge toward the slough, screened by underbrush. We couldn’t quite make out what it was. The only thing we could agree was that it certainly wasn’t a duck. However it was about duck sized and roughly duck shaped. It just wasn’t a duck.
This led to some heated debate amongst my siblings and I but we were forbidden to scramble down the muddy hill to harass the mystery animal. Reluctantly we continued down the trail, speculating wildly when a chicken popped out of a bush in front of us with a train of several chicks.
We froze. The chicken did not. She placidly herded her little puffs across the trail, pecking happily for seeds, unbothered by our proximity. My family had not yet delved into farming and this was the first time any of us kids had seen a chicken up close. It was like a fairytale thing, a creature we had seen over and over in books was suddenly here in the wilderness of the park. We all realized the mystery creature had likewise been a chicken.
Another couple came up the trail and saw us staring.
“Is this your first time at the park?” They asked?
We nodded.
They informed us that this park had become a dumping ground for unwanted chickens. Once the chickens were dumped they were park property and the locals didn’t mind the eccentric additions at all. No one looked after the chickens, but they got on surprisingly well.
As the years went by we visited the park regularly. Signs were added to warn people not to dump off chickens or they’d be fined. They were also excluded from snatching the existing chickens. The hope was that the chickens would eventually run their course and the park would go back to normal.
It did not.
Instead the menagerie grew. Peacocks cropped up occasionally, turkeys; and one visit we saw guinea fowl. But there were always chickens. Eventually feed dispenser were installed so park goers could pay a quarter to enjoy the motley flocks.
Because we’d moved into a house with land my mom started up a chicken coop and we got our very own chickens at the feed store like proper folks. The first rooster we had was a gentleman, politely clucking at us when came into the coop, but the second proved troublesome a year later. He either adored or hated me. Every time I entered the coop he’d dance and flounce and brandish his spurs.
My mom didn’t want to off him frankly she didn’t know how at that point but his fascination ended with him flying at me and the rooster was sentenced to banishment.
We drove to the park.
We saw him there for years afterward, clucking dutifully around a small flock of hens. He did pretty well in exile.
Anyone who’s kept chickens knows that eventually there’s always a tragedy. Ours happened when a neighbors dog broke into our coop and slaughtered the flock. I was absolutely distraught, my lovingly hand reared chicks all decimated in a flurry of senseless bloodlust. I have not loved a chicken since. They are too fragile to bear it.
After a few days of mourning my mom offered that she knew where to find some more chickens. To make up for the massacre she planned a night raid with us. We stayed up past our bedtime and drove to the park with tarp covered kennels in the back of the truck.
We crept down along the gravel parking lot, looking up into the trees, spotting the telltale lumps of shadows that meant chickens. We quickly developed a strategy. We picked a chicken branch, creeping close underneath. Then we reached the end of the branch and gave it a good shake until the roosting chicken glided down to the ground in confusion. It was easy to scoop them up and we went home the proud new owner of a handsome flock of chickens.
The Take a Chicken Leave a Chicken park is still a beloved feature of its neighborhood to this day.
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loveindefinitely · 10 months ago
Text
task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.
-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)
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thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.
one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.
cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.
he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.
"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.
you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."
his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."
you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.
johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.
three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.
manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.
"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.
you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."
a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"
you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."
the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.
"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.
"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.
"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.
"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"
it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.
johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.
"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.
johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.
"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.
"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"
you shudder.
"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.
he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.
"forty-three."
your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.
all you can manage is one question.
"take me home?"
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winxanity-ii · 2 months ago
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SINS OF DEVOTION [2/3]
ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v ; fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: wasn't planning on expanding the one-shot, but here we are. i literally stayed up 7+ hours to write this just cuz i got a bunch of praise in the notes 😩 i'm weak... anywho this is a continuation of my previous one-shot, '𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.' If you haven't read that yet, I recommend starting there to understand the progression of their relationship….final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★
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Ever since that night, you couldn't look Father Charlie in the eyes. How could you, when the man—the symbol of the glory of the Father above—had been buried between your thighs like a man starved?
Just looking at him brought back all the feelings, the emotions that twisted and churned inside you, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed.
Every time you saw him in the chapel, his gaze lingering on you from across the room, your heart would race, your skin tingling with the memory of his touch.
You would try to focus on your duties, your prayers, but the image of him kneeling before you, his mouth claiming every part of you, would flash in your mind, making you falter. Your hands would tremble, your voice would break, and you would feel heat rising in your cheeks, knowing he was watching you.
And he was always watching you.
His eyes would find yours whenever you entered a room, his gaze dark and intent, filled with a hunger that hadn't diminished in the slightest since that stormy night.
You could feel it even from a distance—the way his eyes seemed to follow your every movement, as if he was marking you as his. It made your breath catch, your body reacting in ways you couldn't control, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through you.
It was a regular Sunday mass when he finally cornered you; a neighboring pastor was visiting, giving a sermon, while you were cleaning out one of the confessionals.
The faint sound of the sermon echoed in the background, the low, rhythmic cadence of the visiting pastor's voice carrying through the church. You were kneeling on the ground, scrubbing the tiles, your sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the soapy water.
The scent of cleaning solution hung in the air as you worked, your humming soft, almost absent-minded, a gentle hymn that you barely even noticed yourself singing.
You were so absorbed in your task that you didn't notice the shadow fall over you until it was too late. You looked up, startled, your eyes widening as you tried to regain your composure.
"I'm sorry, this confessional booth is out of commission at the moment, I'm cleaning—" Your words trailed off as your gaze traveled upward, and your breath caught in your throat when you realized who was standing there.
It was Father Charlie.
His presence filled the small space, and you could feel the air grow heavy around you, your pulse quickening as his eyes locked onto yours. There was something about the way he looked at you—something dark and knowing—that made your heart pound, your hands freezing where they rested on the damp cloth.
The brush slipped from your fingers, falling back into the soapy water with a splash that sprayed droplets onto the floor and your habit, snapping you out of your daze. You stuttered, "F-Father Charlie," quickly standing up, giving a short bow. "Blessed Sunday morning, Father."
Charlie's lips twitched up into a smile as he stepped further into the cramped confessional booth, the door closing with a soft click behind him. "Blessed Sunday to you as well, Sister ____."
Your eyes flickered to his lips, your breath catching as your mind flashed back to how he had used that very mouth to bring you to the brink of pleasure—his lips, his tongue, every sinful movement etched into your memory. You swallowed hard, your face warming at the thought, your hands fidgeting as you struggled to look anywhere but at him.
You cleared your throat, your voice coming out small. "Is there... is there anything I can do for you, Father?"
Charlie hummed thoughtfully, taking another step closer until he was right in front of you, the space between you almost nonexistent.
Your gaze dropped to his chest, the black fabric of his cassock filling your vision, the scent of him overwhelming—something warm and clean, with a hint of incense. You could feel your heart pounding, your breath hitching as he spoke, his voice low and deep.
"There are many things you could do for me, Sister," he murmured, his tone shifting, darkening, as his lips curled into a smirk. "We could pray... or perhaps," he paused, his eyes glinting as his voice dropped even lower, "you could help me find a different kind of release."
Your eyes widened at the crude implication, your gaze shooting up to meet his, only to find him already watching your face, his eyes hooded and dark, filled with a hunger that made your stomach twist.
You felt heat pooling low in your belly, the tension in the small space between you almost unbearable. You shook your head slightly, your voice coming out in a whisper, shaky and unsure. "Father Charlie, we shouldn't... we can't..."
Charlie didn't answer, not with words. Instead, he took another step forward, his body pressing against yours as he used his arms to cage you in, one hand bracing against the wall of the confessional beside your head. His other hand moved to cup your cheek, his fingers tilting your face upward, forcing you to meet his gaze.
You could feel his breath, warm against your skin, his face so close that your noses almost brushed. His eyes were dark, filled with something raw, something that made your knees feel weak.
He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his voice a whisper, almost pleading. "Do you know what you do to me, Sister? How you push me to sin, how you make me want things I shouldn't?"
His hand left your cheek, moving down to grab your wrist, guiding your hand between your bodies, pressing it firmly against the hardness straining beneath his cassock. Your breath caught in your throat, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you felt him, your eyes widening, your entire body tensing at the sensation.
"Feel that?" he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "That's what you do to me. Every time I see you, every time you look at me with those innocent eyes... you make me lose control."
You felt your heart racing, your mind spinning, a mix of fear and something else—something dark and thrilling—coursing through you as Father Charlie's hand held yours in place, his gaze locked onto yours, unrelenting, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, waiting, coaxing you to give in.
Your thoughts raced. So many times since that night, you had fantasized about him, dreamed about him fully taking you, about giving in to the desires that had been eating away at you. But now, with him right in front of you, so desperate, so wanting, it made you dizzy.
You were a nun, a devoted daughter, a wife to the Lord—yet here you were, on the verge of surrendering. Your lips parted as you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to cling to the last shreds of your faith.
But then you licked your lips, and you saw how his eyes immediately zeroed in on the movement, darkening with something almost primal. His gaze was intense, unblinking, and you felt the pull, the weight of his need, and it made something inside you snap.
With all the bravery you could muster, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his.
It was soft, a gentle peck, barely more than a brush of your lips against his, but it was enough to make your heart race like you were running a marathon.
For a moment, you thought you could pull back, that this brief kiss could be enough to satisfy whatever it was burning between you.
But then Charlie groaned, the sound deep and raw, and before you could pull away, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you back to him, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. His tongue slipped between your parted lips, invading your mouth, exploring, tasting.
The kiss was nothing like your timid attempt—it was fierce, overwhelming, consuming.
You felt his tongue caressing the inside of your mouth, tracing the shape of your teeth, stroking your own tongue, coaxing it to move with his. He moved slowly, deliberately, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he was savoring every second, every taste.
You felt your head grow light from the lack of air, your body trembling, but still, you were locked in the kiss, unable to pull away, unable to do anything but respond to him.
Your hands moved of their own accord, one of them gripping the front of his cassock, the other reaching up to tangle in his hair. The soft strands slipped through your fingers, and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his body seemed to hum with tension, with need.
Charlie's other hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the hard lines of his body pressing into yours, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of your habit. It made you feel like you were drowning in him, in his touch, his taste.
You whimpered against his lips, the sound muffled by the kiss, and he responded with a low growl, his hand tightening on your waist, his lips moving more insistently against yours.
Charlie pulled back, his forehead resting against yours as he panted, his breath hot and heavy, mingling with your own. His eyes were dark, filled with something raw and unrestrained, and he let out a low groan, his voice rough with desire. "I wish so badly to mark you up, to strip you down right here and lose myself in you," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine. The explicitness of his words made your cheeks burn, your face flushing as you pressed it into his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment.
But he wasn't done. He tilted your chin back up, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek, his eyes searching yours. "But it's too risky," he whispered, his voice filled with regret, and something almost feral. "So I'll settle for something much quicker."
As he spoke, his hands moved down, fingers traveling lower, bunching up the fabric of your tunic around your waist. His touch was frantic, almost desperate, his hands squeezing and kneading every inch of you he could reach, as if he couldn't get enough.
You could feel his fingers digging into your thighs, your hips, pulling you closer, pressing you against him, and it made your head spin, made your body ache with a need you didn't quite understand.
Your hands trembled as they found their place on his shoulders, your fingers hesitating, curling slightly in the fabric of his cassock. You wanted to touch him the way he was touching you, to let your hands explore, but you were too shy, too overwhelmed.
The intensity of his presence, the way his body felt against yours, it all left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.
Charlie's gaze remained locked on yours, his eyes dark and filled with something raw, something that made your pulse quicken. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low murmur, almost a growl. "You don't have to be afraid... just let me take care of you."
Your breath hitched, your body tensing as you felt his hands venture lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. Your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by Charlie as he covered your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours, silencing your small cries and whimpers.
His fingers moved with purpose, finding your most sensitive spot, rubbing slow circles against your clit. The sensation made your knees go weak, your body trembling against him as he worked you with an expertise that left you breathless.
You tried to pull away from the kiss, to catch your breath, but he wouldn't let you, his mouth insistent, his tongue coaxing yours to move with his, swallowing every sound you made.
Your hands clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric as you felt his fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance before slowly pushing inside.
A muffled whimper escaped your throat, your body tensing at the intrusion, the sensation both strange and thrilling. He moved slowly, his fingers stretching you, coaxing your body to relax, to accept him. You could feel every movement, every inch as he filled you, his touch deliberate, patient.
His lips never left yours, his kiss growing deeper, more demanding, as if he could feel your hesitation and was trying to coax you further, to draw you into the darkness with him. He pulled back for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he spoke, his voice a low whisper, thick with desire. "You feel so good, Sister... so perfect. Just let go for me."
Before you could respond, before you could even catch your breath, his hand moved to your thigh, his fingers curling around your leg as he lifted it, wrapping it around his waist.
The new angle made everything more intense, his fingers sinking deeper, his thumb brushing against your clit, drawing a shuddering moan from your lips.
The warmth in your belly grew, turning into a small flame that licked at your insides, consuming every thought, every hesitation; your body responded to his touch, your hips moving against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he was giving you.
Charlie's breathing grew shallow, his eyes darkening as he watched you, his gaze roaming over your flushed cheeks, the way your lips parted, the soft gasps escaping your throat.
Your thighs trembled, your body growing tense as you felt the pressure building, the sensation coiling tightly in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.
But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, just as the first waves of your orgasm began to crest, Charlie stopped. He pulled his fingers away, leaving you gasping, the sudden emptiness almost painful.
A soft, desperate whimper escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering open, wide and confused as you looked up at him.
He met your gaze, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he brought his fingers to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked them clean, his tongue swirling around each digit, savoring the taste of you. "You taste so sweet, Sister," he murmured, his voice thick with lust, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I could spend all day between your thighs... but right now, I need something more."
He shifted, his hands moving to the waistband of his robe, shuffling the fabric around as he freed himself. You couldn't see anything, the fabric obscuring your view, but you felt it—the hard, heavy length of him brushing against your inner thigh, the sensation making your breath catch, your leg twitch involuntarily at the contact.
Charlie moved with a practiced ease, his hands gripping your hips as he shifted you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.
Your back pressed against the wall of the confessional, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body. He adjusted his hold on you, his arms wrapping around your thighs, lifting them until both of your legs were hooked around his waist.
You felt exposed, vulnerable, the position leaving you completely at his mercy, but there was something about the way he looked at you, something in his eyes that made your heart race, made your body ache for more.
His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your breath hitch, your fingers clinging to his shoulders as he held you up, pressing you against the wall. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "You drive me mad, Sister... Forgive me, I can't hold back any longer."
He adjusted his hold on you, one arm wrapping tightly around your waist, holding you up against the wall with ease while his other hand moved beneath the ruffled fabric of your habit.
Your legs hitched open wider, instinctively allowing him more access as you felt the warmth of his hand trailing up your inner thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin. The anticipation made your breath catch, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, your body aching for his touch.
You gasped softly as you felt something blunt press against your clit, moving up and down your slit, the sensation different this time—firmer, hotter. You thought it was his fingers again, but then Charlie let out a soft sigh, a quiet, breathless "fuck" that made your eyes widen, the realization hitting you all at once.
He wasn't using his fingers. It was him, the hard length of him brushing against you, spreading your slickness as he moved, the pressure making your head spin, your body growing even wetter at the sinful, blasphemous intimacy of it.
His movements were slow, deliberate, his eyes locked on yours as if daring you to look away, to deny what was happening. But you couldn't—your gaze was trapped by his, your lips parted as soft whimpers escaped, the sound swallowed by the heavy air between you.
Charlie's breath grew more ragged, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you feel that, Sister? Do you see what you do to me?" His voice was thick with lust, his words a mixture of reverence and something far more depraved. He moved his hips, sliding himself against you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
His lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he began to push inside you, his voice low and shaky as he muttered a scripture, the holy words twisted by the desire lacing his tone. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." His voice trailed off into a deep, guttural groan as he sank deeper, the stretch almost too much, a sharp burn that made you gasp, your eyes squeezing shut as your body struggled to adjust to him.
Charlie paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours once again, his breathing heavy, his eyes searching your face as if looking for any sign of hesitation. But you were too lost in the sensation—the way he filled you, the way your body seemed to mold around him, the burn slowly giving way to something else, something that made your toes curl, your breath hitching as you nodded, a silent plea for him to keep going.
He smiled, a dark, almost tender smile, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, "Perfect." His hips moved again, slowly at first, his movements careful, deliberate, as he began to build a rhythm, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you, the feeling overwhelming, all-consuming.
And as you clung to him, your body trembling, you knew there was no turning back, no escaping the hold he had on you.
The two of you got lost in one another, the heat between you burning like a fire, desire crackling like embers, growing hotter with every movement. Charlie's pace quickened, his breaths coming out in harsh pants, his groans muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn't get close enough.
The rhythm of his thrusts grew more erratic, each one more desperate than the last, the intensity making your head spin, the pleasure building until it was almost too much.
You could hear him, his voice a mix of groans and soft, needy whines, his lips brushing against your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. His hands gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he moved, the friction, the pressure, everything pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your body tensed, your muscles clenching around him as the band inside you finally snapped, the pleasure washing over you in a blinding wave. You gasped, your head falling back against the wall, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body trembled, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, riding out the high.
Charlie shuddered in your arms, his own body tensing as he felt you tighten around him, his movements growing sloppy, desperate, until he finally stilled, his hips pressing against yours as he let out a low, guttural groan.
You felt the warmth of him spreading inside you, the sensation almost surreal, the realization that you had pushed him to this point, that you had made him lose control, making your heart pound even harder.
He stayed like that for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you, something almost soft in his gaze.
Slowly, he pulled away, his hands moving to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your flushed cheeks as he leaned in, his nose bumping gently against yours, a small, tender gesture that made your heart swell.
Charlie's eyes held yours, his gaze intense, filled with a mix of emotions that you couldn't quite decipher. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, his voice still thick with the remnants of his desire. "Pleasure is deceitful... as it was for the harlot, yet I cannot resist you."
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A/N: alright guys, chill with the praise and notes or i won't be able to get rest 😔🫶🏾🫶🏾jkjkjk keep them coming i'm a whore for them 🥴
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ladysharmaa · 6 months ago
Text
Heir
Anthony Bridgerton x reader
summary: telling Anthony she's with child after facing difficulties getting pregnant
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It's been three years since the wedding between Anthony Bridgerton and Y/n. The love between the two was one of the strongest anyone could have ever seen, it was obvious that they were made for each other.
They met in a very unusual way. While Anthony was courting Edwina Sharma, Y/n was seen very close to Benedict, the two of them discreetly courting each other. However, they both quickly realized that the connection between them was better as a friendship than a romantic relationship, where things seemed quite forced and uncomfortable. At the same time, Viscount Bridgerton had also broken up with Edwina after she had doubts on their wedding day.
Y/n remembered that day perfectly. She was sitting next to Benedict and the Bridgerton family on the chairs waiting for Edwina to appear and the wedding to begin. She waved a fan, trying to alleviate the horrible heat in that room. The delay seemed to make everyone nervous, especially Anthony who had drops of sweat falling from his forehead and was speaking hurriedly to his mother.
Finally, the doors opened, but, to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Edwina walking down the aisle, it was Kate Sharma, her sister. She didn't look happy, walking with an air of confidence and a serious expression, her eyes never leaving Anthony. The two exchanged quick words, until Anthony dropped his head and closed his eyes in frustration, but he still nodded and Kate left.
After a few tense seconds, Anthony finally had the courage to look at the people watching the scene and said that the wedding had been cancelled, before leaving the room too, leaving the murmur that formed.
"What a scandal." a lady gossiped with another, the two starting a conversation about what could have happened, some theories being completely ridiculous and that could ruin the family's reputation.
Y/n couldn't help herself and turned to them with a polite but sarcastic smile. "My apologies for interrupting, but the only scandal here is the fact that your son, who decided to be a priest, got so many prostitutes pregnant that only they could fill an entire line of these."
The woman gasped in horror while Benedict, who was listening to the conversation, had difficulty containing his laughter. "You foolish girl, how dare—"
"Excuse me, but I have better things to do than sit here and imagine what could have happened." Y/n got up from her chair, looking at the women one last time before going to try and find Anthony.
Despite being acquaintances, since Y/n was so close to Benedict, the two had never spoken much. However, the woman was still worried about Viscount. When she found him, sitting on the porch floor with his head in his hands, Y/n kept him company, also sitting in silence. From then on, a relationship was formed between the two that quickly became inseparable.
"My love, daydreaming again?" Anthony hummed, breaking Y/n out of his thoughts. The man wrapped his shoulders around her waist and pulled her closer, gently kissing her head. "What are you thinking about?"
"How lucky I am."
"Well, I'm the lucky one. I have a beautiful wife who I love very much. I couldn't live without you." he confessed, causing a blush to appear on her cheeks as it always did when he pronounced his love for her. "I have to go finish some paperwork, but then I'll come see you so we can go visit Daphne's son."
Y/n nodded, giving him a quick kiss and sighing as she watched him go to his office. Daphne had just had her second child, a beautiful baby boy. The couple was going to visit the family so that Y/n could help with whatever her sister-in-law needed while Anthony and Simon were going to entertain the baby's brother, a toodler who demanded a lot of attention.
Even though Y/n loved their children with all her heart, it only reminded her of what she couldn't give Anthony. The couple had been trying to get pregnant since they got married, but without success. Anthony's wife had already cried on his shoulder many times because she couldn't carry the child, her heart breaking every time she started her period.
Even though the Bridgerton man assured her several times that all he needed to be happy was her, Y/n still wanted to give him a heir. She wanted the house to be full of their children's laughter and for them to be able to create a mini version of them, a product of their love.
However, he tried not to occupy his days thinking solely about that. It was enough of all the doctors she had seen who told her that it was her fault, that her womb was not capable of developing a baby. Of course, Anthony, as soon as he heard those accusations and the look of complete heartbreak from his wife, demanded that they leave his house.
Y/n she couldn't take the blame anymore, going into a state of shock and for three days she refused to get out of bed. However, her husband would not accept that. He just wanted her to be happy, even if they never had children.
"We don't need children to be happy, I only need you. We have so many nieces and nephews who can take on my role, and we can take care of them from time to time, I'm sure my siblings wouldn't mind." Y/n remembered Anthony telling her this firmly, his hands grabbing her cheeks as they both had tears in their eyes.
And since then, they've never brought it up again.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"Lady Bridgerton, are you feeling alright?" one of the maids asked worriedly when she saw Y/n enter the dining room for breakfast, immediately turning paler when she smelled the eggs. "Should I fetch for Viscount Bridgerton?"
She had time to shake her head before running to the nearest bathroom, dropping herself onto the cold floor and emptying the contents of her stomach. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, gagging at the sour taste that remained in her mouth. With unsteady legs, she got up and went to wash her mouth, the maids who entered the bathroom right after her helped her to hold herself upright.
However, she quickly realized that she wasn't finished yet when a new wave of nausea consumed her and she knelt again in front of the toilet. She felt strong hands, which she recognized as Anthony's, caress her face before grabbing her hair.
"Oh, Anthony…" she moaned in discomfort. "I don't want you to see me like this."
"Hey, none of that. Come here, love." he comforted, helping turn her around and supporting her against the wall when she was finished. He took a towel and started wiping her mouth.
When Y/n had the strength to open her eyes, she saw her husband's face analyzing her closely, looking for anything that could be wrong. The concern that swam in his eyes made her raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, and he turned slightly to be able to give her a lingering kiss on her palm.
"How are you feeling? I'm going to call the doctor. Are you okay with staying with one of the maids until I get back?"
Y/n held his arm, preventing him from getting up. "No, please don't go. I'm alright now. If this continues, I promise you can call the doctor, this is probably an one time thing. Let's not worry about it."
Anthony sighed, locked in a staring contest with the most important woman in his life. Accepting defeat, but with a serious look that screamed that if that happened again she would see a doctor, the Viscount picked up Y/n, carrying her to their bed.
Laying her down gently and helping Y/n take off her dress, the man pulled the covers up, making sure she was comfortable. Afterwards, he took off his shirt and pants, lying down next to her.
"What are you doing? We can't be in bed already, especially you. It's only morning, we still have many obligations to fulfill."
"No. My wife is not feeling well, and I'm going to take care of her. The paperwork can wait, as well as all my meetings. I just want you to be healthy." Anthony brought her closer to him, Y/n resting her head on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. "Now, sleep. You need it."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It happened again. More specifically, two more times Y/n threw up her meals. The first time, she was alone and not wanting to worry anyone, she preferred to remain silent. After all, she could still be recovering from some kind of illness. The second time, it was in the presence of her most trusted maid, who she considered a friend, Joanne. And so she begged her not to tell the Bridgerton man about it, claiming she would see someone.
Alone, because in addition to feeling sick, she also realized that her period, which was always regular, should have already arrived. Her first thought was that she was pregnant. But upon thinking better, she questioned this possibility. After so many years of trying and failing, why would she be pregnant now? There must be another explanation.
However, she did not share these possibilities with Anthony because the last thing she wanted was to give him hope only to end up disappointed with her inability to give him a heir. Fortunately, Joanne accompanied her, helping Y/n explain to the doctor why the Viscount wasn't there with her.
And when she left that office, she could feel her legs losing strength. She placed a hand on her chest, starting to find it difficult to breathe in completely, still shocked by what the doctor had said to her.
Pregnant.
She was carrying Anthony's child in her womb, something they thought to be impossible. She was going to be a mother. Even though Anthony always assured her that he was completely happy with just her, Y/n knew that he would love being a father. At the beginning of their marriage, he had revealed to her that he dreamed of their family, their chhildren running through the garden while he chased after them and Y/n watched while sitting under the shade, her hand on her swollen belly.
And, by a miracle, this dream could become reality.
"Lady Bridgerton, are you ready to return to the mansion?" Joanne questioned after Y/n sat down in the carriage, her hands shaking together in her lap. Her gaze was understanding, in case she needed a few more moments alone to process this, but her lips held a small smile.
"I'm going to be a mother." she whispered.
"A wonderful, beautiful mother, I'm sure. Congratulations, Lady Bridgerton." she smiled, feeling enormous happiness for Y/n. She knew how much the couple had suffered. "Shall we return?"
Y/n nodded, no longer trusting her voice to speak. The woman took advantage of the short trip to process everything that was happening and before she knew it she was already in front of Anthony's office door.
With barely controlled excitement, she knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter. When she heard Anthony's voice, she timidly opened the door, seeing that her husband was gathered with his brothers.
"Oh, my apologies. I didn't know your brothers were here. I can come back later."
"Nonsense, love. They can just leave." Anthony said, leaning back in his chair and opening his arms, an invitation for Y/n to come to him. The man, after already having Y/n in his arms, looked at Benedict and Collin, who were looking at him with a smirk. "Did you not hear? I told you to leave."
"Anthony, be nice!"
"It's not a problem, Y/n, we know when we are not wanted. Come on, Benedict, let's leave the lovebirds alone." Collin teased, getting up with his brother and leaving the room, but first, he took Y/n's hand and brought it to his lips. Benedict, for instance, kissed her cheek in a brotherly way. Despite their farewell with Y/n, Anthony was completely ignored by his brothers.
"Did you need something?" the man asked, putting all of his attention on Y/n, who began to fidget with her fingers nervously.
"Actually, I have to tell you something. I went to the doctor today…"
"What? Y/n, why didn't you tell me? Did you feel bad again? Nauseous? What did the doctor say? Are you okay?"
"Calm down, my love. I'm better than fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being sick again, but I didn't want to worry you." she admitted, feeling guilty that Anthony was feeling precisely what she didn't want. "Well, I received some very interesting news."
"Please, just tell me what's wrong. I can't bear not knowing if something is wrong with you." he muttered with a pained look, as if he felt physical pain when thinking about the possibility of Y/n being hurt or unwell.
"Anthony…" she said his name with so much love that he shuddered. "I'm pregnant."
A silence formed in the room. Anthony took so long to react, just looking at her intensely as if he didn't know what was true or not, that Y/n began to feel worry invade her system. Was he not happy? Did he not want a child with her anymore?
"W-What?" Anthony finally managed to whisper, his heart having stopped as soon as he heard those words. "You're pregnant? With my child?"
"Well, obviously." Y/n rolled her eyes. "Are you happy?"
"Happy? My love, I'm more than happy. I love you so much. And I love our child too." the man kissed her fiercely, needing to convey all his love and adoration for her in that kiss.
He was addicted to his wife's lips, and now that he knew she was carrying his child, something animalistic was released inside him. Without giving any warning, he grabbed Y/n and twirled her around, without ever taking his lips off hers. Even so, Y/n giggled against them, circling her hands around his neck and holding on tight.
When her feet touched the floor, the Viscount knelt in front of her, his hands resting hesitantly on her stomach. He looked at Y/n in permission, who just nodded in encouragement and placed her hand on his brown hair, stroking his scalp.
Very gently, Anthony kissed his wife's still flat stomach. "Hello, you. I'm your father and I love you and your mother very much. You two are my entire life."
And the two stayed like that for the rest of the day, moving to the bedroom where Anthony continued to talk to Y/n's belly while exchanging passionate kisses with her. A beautiful new stage had begun in their lives, and they couldn't wait to meet their heir.
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arminsumi · 21 days ago
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. . . Satoru, who doesn't shut up during s★x
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► '... yeah, talk like that, all up in my ear when he want that wax, can't even hear when I moan like that!'
+ Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT/18+ ONLY, (primarily) dirty talk, namecalling (baby, sl★t, and one playful instance of 'loser'), br★★ding kink, unprotected s★x, pwp, eludes to facesitting
+ Author's note: been a while since I made some pwp, but I just had a vision of a very verbal Satoru that I needed to express ✌️😗
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Satoru's behind you, easing his hips against yours, hands tight on your waist, those blue eyes intently watching the sight of his hard cock disappearing into your tight cunt, savoring the feeling of gliding past your plush lips and pushing up into your guts inch by inch by inch by inch by inch by inch by inch. He's got a cocky, lopsided, downright slappable smile that contorts into an erotic o-shape as he moans in relief — he sounds like he's needed this all day.
And after his first few slutty moans roll out, his mouth doesn't close. He's got a big ego, a big cock and a big mouth and he just doesn't shut up during sex.
He's foul, unfiltered, and unashamed; ".... that greedy little pussy's just swallowing my cock today — yeah, look at you takin' it like you're my personal porn star — huh? Nooo, it's a compliment!" he tops this all off with a smitten kiss, a little bite on your bottom lip, and a sweet "You're just so fucking pretty, makes me curious..." but he trails off, like he just realized now that he can bite his tongue, show a little restraint.
Yeah, that restraint only exists for a short while.
Sweat running down the back of your thighs, Satoru's heavy-hitting thrusts make a sloppy, wet mess between your thighs. While he ruins you like this, he also starts running his mouth, making your head spin deeper into the heat of his intense sex, "Oh baby, take me deeper — fucking take it, yeah, you take that fucking dick... take that nasty fucking dick. J-just let me fuck — your — cunt — dumb — babyyy!" his vocals strain at the end as if your pussy just sucked the breath out of his lungs. He packs his cock as deep into you as he possibly can, cockhead nudging almost too deep inside, only to quickly ease out when you whimper, "Fuck, you good? Sorry, you just feel so fucking good, 'think I'm obsessed with this slutty little hole, 's the only one that can make me this hard. 'Don't stop'? Aw, don't worry... I'm not gonna stop for a while. Yeah, hold your legs back just like that, let me all in, baby."
Honestly, you learned about his breeding kink simply because of Satoru's tendency to blurt things out when he gets too blissed out on sex; "... yeahhh I fucking love you. Keep telling me you love me, 's gonna make me cum so fucking hard — fuck I'm so close, I-I'm so close, I'm gonna cum inside you baby — I'm gonna cum inside you and knock you up — uh-huh, 'gonna nut so fucking deep inside you, you're gonna get pregnant — g-gonna have my babies — oh fuck me, 'm cumming...! Ugh, stay right there and take this fucking nut, baby... fuck... fuck you fucking drained me." he takes a moment to steady his breaths, planting a slap on your ass and staring in silence for a while before he continues, voice softer-toned than earlier, "Hey, still with me, baby? Perk your ass up a little, I wanna watch my cum dribble out. What? That's not perverted... this is art. What are you sighing for? Nah, don't you laugh at me or I'm gonna — fuck you, get on my face, loser, I'm gonna make you cry."
Even outside of the bedroom he still has a nasty word or two just waiting to spill out his mouth — especially the morning after a long, hard night.
His eyes catch on the curve of your hips, he smirks, and he comes up behind you while you're in the kitchen, leans way down and mutters something nasty in your ear just to hear your naughty giggles. "Hey sweet thing, you got a boyfriend? Nah, relax, he doesn't have to know a damn thing..." he asks jokingly, massaging your tiny pussy in his big hands, middle finger dividing your plush lips and rubbing through the thin fabric of your panties — but it all only lasts for a split second of course, he intentionally leaves you wanting more. He'll act dumb if you call him a tease, "Huh? What do you mean 'do something about this'? Did I turn you on? I was just saying good morning, baby, you've got such a dirty little imagination."
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𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
I do not allow the copying/plagiarizing/reposting/translation (etc) of my works. Please don't steal what I've worked hard to create.
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norrizzandpia · 7 months ago
Text
HE WON! LAN WON!
Summary: A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.
Warnings: LITERALLY NOTHING EXCEPT A SEXUAL COMMENT AND ME SOBBING IM SO HAPPY FOR THIS MAN I DONT EVEN KNOW (also like a theme of marriage and a comment about having children lol)
Note: i was screaming.
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Y/n could feel the sweat drip down her back as her hands shook against her mouth. She had come into this race, along with Lando, assuming there would be a P2 secured for him with the new upgrades, but as the gap between him and Max got larger, it became clear it was his time. His time to let go of that stupid record, the one that had crushed him to hold, of having the most podiums without a race win. Her heart jumped every time he rounded a corner, praying to any kind of higher power to not let a safety car or a jittery move made by him ruin his chances again of winning. She couldn’t stomach the thought of that, he couldn’t either. And by the faces surrounding her in the McLaren Garage, she knew nobody else could.
Everybody held their breath, nerves overwhelming them as their eyes stuck to the screen. Could this be it? Could this be the moment where he took the title as race winner?
It seemed so as he rounded the last corner and his triumph resulted in cheers being heard for miles. Y/n didn’t realize the tears falling from her face until Andrea ran over to her, hugging her and wiping her tears with a laugh.
“HE WON!” She shouted in his face, mascara very likely smudging around her eyes. Andrea nodded at her and hugged her once more before moving on to the engineers behind her. Zak was the second person to find her, screaming with her and high-fiving her when she noticed the glistening in his eyes.
“Are you crying?!” She laughed. Zak shook his head, but wiped away the wetness right under his eye.
She giggled, “I won’t tell anyone.”
He chuckled along with her before the moments dawned on her once more.
She turned around to face the engineers, “HE WON!”
They screamed it back at her as if to try and convince themselves of it, too surreal for their comfort. There was a massive group hug between Y/n and the engineers, all of them having seen just how hard Lando worked for this exact achievement.
“Y/N!” Zak screamed from across the room. When she turned around, she found him aggressively waving his hand, motioning for her to come join him in congratulating Lando.
She squealed before taking off, leaving the man behind quickly.
On her way there, sprinting chaotically, she haphazardly facetimed Cisca, Lando’s mother. When the call went through, their two tear soaked faces met one another and they only began to cry more.
“HE DID IT, CISCA! HE WON! LAN WON!” She screamed, fans and bystanders taking out their phones to videotape the cute moment of loud support from the girlfriend of the newest race winner.
Their cameras caught her flying down the pit lane, screaming into her phone with Cisca over how elated she was for Lando. To add to the charm, the videos captured her tripping and almost face planting on the floor from the sheer pace of her legs. Her cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but she was quick to put it all aside as she pushed through the masses of people, waving her phone around and yelling at everyone to move away because she had the mother of Lando Norris on the phone.
Her body was smashed against the railings as his car came into view and her tears only came falling down harder. Andrea, who was standing off to the side and outside of the barriers, ran over to her, moving the tape up enough for her to come under. She gave him a questioning look, “Aren’t I supposed to stay behind it?”
Andrea shook his head, “Lando would’ve forced you to come out of it anyway. Just be prepared for the trample you’ll get when he gets out of his car.”
She laughed and her head whipped around at the sounds of intense cheering, seeing her boyfriend practically fly out of his car and throw himself into the arms of his team. Cisca laughed at it all on the phone, commenting to Y/n about how chaotic her son had turned out to be.
“Chaotic? I think he’s just clinically insane, hate to say it.” Y/n giggled, shaking her head at the truly concerning things Lando had said to or done with her in the years they’d been together.
“WHERE’S Y/N? DID NOBODY GET HER FROM THE GARAGE? WHAT?” Lando’s body leaned over to one of the engineers, the poor man trying to tell him how close his girlfriend was.
Finally, after a few failing attempts, the man just pointed and yelled, “SHE’S OVER THERE, MATE!”
Lando’s head turned, eyes locking with hers and softening. Andrea quickly took the phone out of her hands, knowing she would want two empty hands to welcome her boyfriend with. And just in time because Lando was sprinting to her, screaming about what he had just done.
“DID YOU SEE, LOVE?! Y/N, I WON A RACE! I’M A RACE WINNER!” His volume was deafening, but the way he crashed into her, holding her body to his as she stumbled back, said more.
It was no secret how in love the two were. Having met four years ago in the paddock, they were inseparable ever since. From the small and subtle touches to the strong statements of adoration and love, there was no fighting or doubting the two would end up sharing the same last name. Y/n had been open in the months leading up to Miami that she had begun manifesting his race win, touching many hearts in the process. Posting pictures of her journal with the sentence “Lando Norris is a Grand Prix Race Winner” written over and over and over again, his mirror with sticky notes in her handwriting with the same eight words. She stopped at nothing. Y/n even took to forcing Lando to make honey jars with her, that specific phrase on a small note inside, so that maybe it would “stick to him”. She was completely uneducated in the world of manifestation and rituals, but she liked to think she was somehow involved in this.
Nonetheless, it all paid off as he reeled back, tears in his eyes, and kissed her sweetly in front of many. His kisses were soft and hasty, drawing back every few seconds to plant another one on her mouth. His arms tightened around her frame and his lips rested against the shell of her ear, “Thank you for everything, baby. I couldn’t have ever done this without you and your spells. I love you so much and there are not enough words to express how grateful I am that you are standing here with me today.”
She grasped his cheeks, pulling him back so their eyes could meet once more, and wiped his cheeks. He did the same to her as she whispered, “This was all you. I hope you never doubt how talented you are ever again because of this, Lan. Everyone is so proud of you, we always have been, but it’s heightened today because you deserve this so much. You deserve a lot of things, this is the start of many.” She brought his face closer to hers, their noses touching, “I am so happy for you, Lan.”
The tears under his eyes pooled around her thumbs at her words and he just shook his head, kissing her again before Cisca’s voice was loading emitting from the phone beside them.
“LANDO NORRIS! YOU ARE A RACE WINNER, HONEY!” She screamed, a slight crack from the speaker.
He blushed, “Thank you, mum. I love you so much. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
Adam’s head popped out from the side of the frame, “What about me?!” He said with a smile and Lando only laughed.
The parents riddled off excited murmurs of support and love before Lando was being ushered away.
A slight crease to his forward told Y/n he didn’t want to leave. She squeezed his hand, “Go, Lan. I’ll be with the engineers below while you get your trophy. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your parents have the best view.”
He shook his head, “I want you to come with me, though.”
She sighed, kissing his cheek, “No, Lan. This is your moment to shine. Go savor it, baby.”
His eyes flickered to the man waiting off to the side, waving his hand as to tell him where he needed to go, and back to his Y/n. The woman he had fallen in love with all that time ago, the woman he had been waiting for his entire life, the woman who had been with him throughout this entire journey, and the woman who he was elated still put up with him long enough to see this moment as the love of his life. He wanted her to share in the victory with him, but the pleading in her eyes told him that wasn’t the right decision. She was right. This was the moment he’d always been waiting for. This was his time to take that top step and cement his presence in it by himself.
Another reason why he loved her so much. She always knew what he wanted even when he didn’t.
Kissing and hugging her again, he ran off.
When he disappeared behind the random door that led him to his podium, Y/n turned to Andrea and Lando’s parents, the ones still on the phone with their smiling faces, they all just looked knowingly at her.
“What?” She giggled.
Cisca was the first to speak, “If there isn’t a ring stuffed away somewhere in you two’s apartment, I’ll be damned.”
After the champagne spraying and Lando’s eyes never leaving hers from his high podium, the two were reunited in the McLaren Garage.
His hand slid into hers before leaning his heavy body on her, “I’m so tired. That car was hot as fuck.”
Y/n’s fingers trailed up his back before sinking into his hair, tugging and scratching lightly, “Oh? Tired? That’s a shame.”
Lando let out a confused noise, “Why?”
She turned her head so her lips were close to his ear, “Because I was already planning your post race win celebration. The one in the privacy of our hotel room.”
He choked on the oxygen he was in the midst of inhaling, “I’m not tired anymore.”
“Really? The car was hot, no?” Zak stepped into their conversation, having no idea what he was interrupting.
Lando laughed and Y/n just stuttered, “Yeah, he was just saying it was. I think it’s the adrenaline of winning that’s making him feel awake.”
Zak’s mouth fell open in understanding before he stepped closer and patted Lando on the back, “I’m really proud of you, kid.”
The two shared a quick hug and Lando smiled, “Thank you for all the support you’ve shown me.”
When they parted ways and Lando led Y/n back to his car, he turned to her in the driver’s seat. His eyes bore into hers and didn’t let go as he took her hands, “I have never been as in love with anyone as I am with you and you don’t understand how happy I am you’re here to share in this with me.”
She caressed his cheekbone, “I’m so happy to be here with you too, Lan. You deserve this and so many more wins.”
There was something evident he wanted to say, but it was clear he was hesitant. Y/n could see it. Not wanting to push him, she just smiled and clutched his hand, silently telling him she was safe to confide in, that she would never leave him. Her hand holding was a promise of forever.
Just what Lando needed.
“Promise when I get down on one knee, you’ll say yes?” He whispered.
Her mind took her back to Cisca and Adam and Andrea when they all looked on at her as the future wife of their favorite boy. Her cheeks blushed, “I promise I’ll say yes.”
He exhaled a breath, “Thank God. I have a mental list of all the achievements I want to earn in my life and there’s only one thing left on it.”
She gave him a confused look as he started the car, “What is it?”
He looked at her like it was obvious, “Marrying you. Winning a race was on there,” He smiled, “check. Get into Formula One, check. Meet the woman of my dreams,” A bigger smile, “check. Treat her well,” His eyebrows raised.
She laughed and nodded, “Check.”
He dipped his head down, “Exactly. The last thing on there is to marry her - you.”
“Nothing else?” She asked, toying with his fingers as they rested on her thigh.
He moved his head from side to side, “I assume I will add things to it as we go on in life. Maybe have kids with you, that could be fun. But, for right now, just that. I’d like to bask in the happiness of knowing everything worked out in the end.”
She brought his the back of his hand to her lips and kissed the skin, “It always will, Lan.”
They met eyes as he came to a stop at a light and the comforting color of hers made Lando come to the most beautiful revelation of his life.
As long as she was with him, it truly always would work out.
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loonylupinblack3 · 7 months ago
Text
Cold
Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader
Warnings: slightly suggestive content
Summary: it's cold and you decide to go exploring for a heated blanket. you find logan instead.
Word Count: 1.5k
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It was cold.
You were fucking freezing, shivering even under your piles of blankets. It was this stupid house, giant though it was, with shit heating. So when one of the kids fucked up and damaged the already extremely fragile heating, it broke. In the middle of winter.
You groaned, curling even further in on yourself, trying to keep any heat you’d formulated from escaping. Stupid house. Stupid cold. Stupid useless blankets. You wracked your brain for anything else you could get to find you some more warmth because you could not go on like this. You were jealous of all the mutants in the house with fire or heat mutations, or those with partners to sleep with, comfortable in each other's warmth.
You sat up when you remembered it. The electric blanket Storm had gotten as a gift a few years back lay discarded in one of the shelves in the kitchen, hidden in a box unopened. If you could get that, connect it to the outlet next to your bed, well…. You’d actually be able to sleep tonight.
It took you a while to actually build up the courage to leave your bed and your warmth, however slim it may be. When you did you were assaulted with the cold, more than twice as bad without your blankets. Not to say you weren’t already layered, with your winter pyjamas and hoodie, but still. It was cold.
You travelled down the long hallways and through the massive house, trying to get to the kitchen as quickly as possible. The torch in your hand shook slightly from your shivers, but you promised yourself it would all be worth it when you went back to your room with the toasty heated blanket.
You’d told yourself you’d be in and out, with the electric blanket in your room in no time, yet you stopped short when you saw the light on in the kitchen, and Logan leaning against the counter with a beer in his hand.
Your heart gave a lurch, which immediately gave you away, Logan’s eyes darting to you. You gave a nervous smile, sort of just… standing there. You’d had a minor crush on Logan for a while now, very low key. No one even knew about it; it was so minor. Just…. The playful banter you two had, and his looks, they appealed to you. Still, it was minor, and usually you were much more composed around him, but you were tired and cold and your defences were down.
“Logan,” you said, stepping forwards. “What are you doing here?”
Logan watched you intently, eyes roving your body as he sipped his beer. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you Darl?”
You tried not to smile at the nickname, rubbing your arms in an attempt to create more warmth. “I was cold.”
Logan raised his eyebrows. “So you came looking for company?”
Heat rushed to your face at the suggestion, as did Logan’s intent gaze as if he was eager to fill the role. You cleared your throat. “No, um, there’s a heated blanket in one of the cupboards.”
Again Logan raised his eyebrows with an amused expression. “Is there now?”
You felt a smile stretch on your face, even though you fought it. You rolled your eyes at him. “Yes, there is.”
He placed his beer on the counter and moved forwards. “Well now you’ve got to show me this blanket, because otherwise I’ll be believing you came here for me.”
The flirty tone in his voice made you flush even more, but you kept your cool, observing him with a calm expression, only a hint of a smile on your face now. “Alright then.”
You walked to the cupboard on the left, rummaging through it. Your memory was a little fuzzy but you were sure Storm had put it in here. Logan watched you with a smirk, beer forgotten as he leant against the counter.
You shot him a glare. “Aren’t you cold?”
In nothing but a t-shirt and jeans, you’d be shivering uncontrollably at that point, barely able to form a coherent thought let alone a sentence. Logan seemed fine though, not a single goosebump on his skin. More than fine actually, if his entertained smirk was anything to go by.
“Helpful side of the regeneration,” Logan said, “keeps my body temp normal no matter what.”
He stepped forward till he was standing over you, watching you intently. “Now, where’s that blanket bub?”
You cleared your throat, standing up. “Must be in one of the other cupboards.”
He made an ‘ah’ sound as you quickly moved onto a different cupboard, all the while feeling yourself get colder and colder. Yet as you continued to search, you came up empty handed, the blanket having disappeared all together.
You were relentless though, because the thought of Logan thinking you came down there for him… well, you weren’t sure you’d be able to look him in the eye again if that happened. So you continued looking fruitlessly, all the while feeling the cold wrap its icy claws around you.
“Alright, you’re getting cold, admit defeat yeah?” Logan asked after watching you nearly drop an item because of how bad your hands were shaking.
You shook your head. “I’m fine.”
He let out a scoff. “You’re certainly not fine. Come on now.”
His hand gently grabbed your shoulder, pulling you back from the cupboards. You turned around to stare at him, slightly panicked. “I didn’t come down here to take you to bed. I promise.”
Logan let out a laugh, his arms draped loosely around your waist. “I know that bub, I was just playing.”
You looked up at him, slightly embarrassed, though the cold ensured you didn’t focus on it too much. “Well…. As long as you know.”
Logan gave a rueful nod. “I know, but I’d have liked it if you did take me there.”
You nearly let out a baffled gasp, looking up at him with wide eyes. You two had your fun, but you’d never been this forward with each other before. “What?”
“Well, you’re cold,” he said, “and there’s no heated blanket. I’d hate for you to go back to your room just to be cold again.”
You couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Oh so you're doing me a favour are you?”
Logan shrugged, a smirk on his face. “You could say that. Or you could say I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time and I’m finally doing something about it.”
“Oh?”
Logan’s arms around your waist tightened, pulling you to his chest. You revelled in the warmth of having a human’s body against yours, the heat radiating from him a welcome comfort.
“Yes, oh,” Logan replied, grinning at you like he knew how much you enjoyed being in his arms. “So what do ya say bub?”
You couldn’t think too much about it, the cold making it hard for any rational thought to make it through, but you knew you wanted this. Him.
“Hmm… I say we better hurry up and get to my room because I’m freezing.”
Logan smirked. “One thing first.”
He leant down and kissed you, one hand staying on your waist while the other came up to your face, gripping your chin slightly and tilting it forwards to give him better access to your mouth. His lips were feverish against yours, like a starved man, dragging against your mouth like it was all he’d been able to think about for who knew how long. 
You kissed him back, something he obviously revelled in if his audible groan was anything to go by. Both his hands were now on your face cupping it as he kissed you harder, devouring your mouth.
He pulled back when he noticed your shaking though, shaking his head at you with an amused smile. “Now let’s get you in bed yeah?”
You nodded your head, almost salivating at the thought of some warmth, and let Logan lead you to your room, a hand placed firmly on your waist. When you saw your bed, looking so inviting, you left Logan’s side to crawl into it, letting out a sigh of content when you covered yourself under the piles of blankets.
Logan smirked at you before tugging his shirt up and taking it off. Your eyes widened as you stared at his chest, his abs flexing as he raised his arms, the small trail of hair going from his belly button to hidden behind the waistband of his sweatpants, hanging low in his hips and giving you the perfect view of his V-line. 
“What are you doing?” you managed to ask, even though you still hadn’t torn your gaze away from his body.
Logan’s smirk, noticing your stare, turned smug. “The less layers the better body heat bub.”
You swallowed, feeling your cheeks heat. “Well I’m too cold to take any of my clothes off.”
Logan moved forward, gently nudging you aside so he could get under the covers, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back to his chest. You shivered delightfully. He was right; the less layers the better body heat.
He moved forward to whisper in your ear, “that’s alright bub. We’ll leave that for another night.”
You smiled again, feeling flustered, and Logan chuckled against your head, giving you a chaste kiss on your hair. 
“Goodnight,” you whispered to Logan, snuggling closer to him.
Logan’s hands tightened around your waist, pressing his head into the crook of your neck and peppering some kisses there. “Goodnight bub.”
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