pd1nne - Tumblr blog

pd1nne · 2 days

Note

I’ve just had a vision, what if a yan (e.g riddle or vil because they are most princess-ish) was a trapped in a castle away like in one of those stereotypical fairy tales and the reader decides to save them because they are a ‘damsel in distress’ and reader is like a hero… only to realise there is a reason why they were locked away (because they were batshit crazy)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: You are a thief with freshly stolen goods. Chased and hunted down, you avoid capture by finding a castle hidden in gloom and fog. Locals told legends of this place, saying a royal had been trapped within. Of course, you don't quite believe such tall tales. That is, until you discover the royal and learned that they were purposefully sealed inside...

Note: I think I'll call this one, not your valiant savior. It's just a placeholder name for now. Just a quick post, so sorry if it's bad.

It was too easy. What did they expect when they left out a priceless object owned by the royal family and estimated to be worth a fortune? Of course a famed thief on the loose such as yourself, would just be itching to snatch the relic. And snatch you did, living up to your reputation of thief. Each member having unique abilities to assist in stealing. Your mother had speed to outrun anyone in a chase, your grandfather had the talent of picking any locks, your great-grandmother could sweet-talk anyone then rob them blind. And so on and so forth.

And of course, you had your own talent. As quiet as a mouse and with fingers that stuck to valuables like glue, stealing became like second nature. Literally. However, it wasn't exactly a talent valued by the wider community, and if you stole enough you could end up on terribly drawn wanted posters. Which is why staying in one place wasn't wise.

From place to place, you went taking and claiming anything of worth. When you got very low on cash, you set your sights high: on the vault that stored the royal's priceless treasures. There was bound to be endless riches stored within, if only you could get your grubby hands on them. Well, after careful planning, you had. It wasn't a giant gem or sack full of gold.

Time was short, so you had grabbed the closest thing you could before guards could find you. A golden box encrusted with jewels. Who knew what was inside? Maybe some family heirloom, a magical artifact, or something else of high value. And with the box, you bolted, and the chase had begun out of the city and through the woods.

As fast as you could, you ran through the mystic woods, a forrest travelers and locals alike were all wary of. It was the safest place you could go when chased by frightening palace guards on horseback that would do anything to take back what you stole and drag you back to the gallows. Even the woods heavy with fog and dark from the clouds overhead, had deterred your pursuers enough for you to slip out of their reach and deeper into the forrest where there was no way they would be able to track you. Here, you would have to wait until tomorrow and depart early. Then, you'd be home free and rich beyond your wildest dreams.

After what felt like hours of walking, you stumbled upon a bridge over a gloomy lake. In the middle, sat an old castle of gray stone and dark windows. A castle once said to hold a royal captive, but of course, you didn't believe such stories that were so old they were told to your own grandparents. This castle would be your sanctuary for the night. And maybe, just maybe, you'd clutch the jeweled box and dream of simpler times when you were told fairytales of locked away royals waiting for a savior.

The castle was exactly like those set in spooky tales, haunted by vengeful spirits and claimed by ghosts. It appeared abandoned, that much was obvious by the crumbling stone bridge and the battered old wooden doors that once protected the inhabitants.

Cautiously stepping over the splintered debris of the front door, you didn’t bother boarding it up since no one would be stupid enough to follow you inside.

There was wreckage and ruin everywhere. If you had to guess, whatever happened here, whether the people were driven away by conflict or time, it was followed by the destruction of time. Time with weather were likely all factors that led to the disarray of what was probably once a grand estate. Strangely enough, there was furniture and decor. Everything coated in dust and grime, but still here. Had people been too afraid to enter the grounds? There were so many valuables that could've been looted!

"I'll definitely have to come back here later." You scoff, turning over a few clothes or broken furniture with your foot to uncover possible hidden goodies. Maybe something as small but valuable as a ring was lost somewhere on the ground.

Proceeding to carry the golden box under your arm, you decide to search for the cleaniest, not-so-moldy room where you could spend the night. On the third floor halls, you see ripped curtains and frames where portraits loosely hung. Every rug was brown with dirt and dust.

There were items left behind, which showcased the life one led here. A piano too big to steal, the skeleton of a chandelier and broken gems hanging from its limbs, empty glass perfume bottles now filled with dust. The place must've been wondrous once, but now it was like a tomb. A setting frozen in time.

When you found moonlight filtering through the open balcony of what looked to be the master bedroom, you paused to see the space wrecked more than the others. As if more than just weather and time had affected this place. The owner of this castle likely slept in this very room, on that very bed where the sheets were ruffled and unkempt.

"I wonder who used to live here..." You murmur to no one in particular, as you approach the balcony looking over the bridge and woods. This would be a good vantage point.

A heavy fog settled over the woods, extending over the bridge like water. Good, an extra layer for cover. You stepped back into the room, analyzing every carved piece of wooden furniture, makeup and brushes stored on tabletops, a separate room as long as a hallway and filled with all types of articles of clothing.

If all this was still here, then was it possible some jewelry was left behind? You scoured the room, looking for hidden compartments while murmuring to yourself to fill the ominous silence. As you pulled back a curtain against a wall, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw an uneven lump underneath the wallpaper.

Could this be handle leading to a vault of treasures? With that in mind, you ripped off the old wallpaper. A glimmer of gold made your heart soar with hope, but when you caught sight of your reflection, you stopped and stared. A mirror. It was a large mirror, oval shaped, with golden borders so intricately decorated. However, when a hand suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror, like a ghostly apparition, you screamed and stumbled back.

A hand– there was a hand in the mirror! You stared with widened eyes full of shock, as the hand pressed its palm against the surface of the glass. You couldn't see anything else, no one behind the hand. After a second, the slim pale hand delicately pointed a long dainty finger at the box you were holding in a vice grip.

"What...? This? You want this? But..."

You had worked hard to procure this golden box from the royals. Pursing your lips, you contemplated your options, with so many questions running rampant in your mind. What was that thing? A magic mirror? A magic mirror would be priceless, much more valuable than any gold. However, if it was magic, it would be tricky. Possibly even sentient. So you'd have to gain its favor.

"Alright, alright, the box. You know, I went through hell trying to get this."

You informed the mirror, unsure if it even understood you. You carefully set down the heavy box in front of the mirror, and watch as the hand made a motion with its fingers.

Click!

It had unlocked the box, without even a key or tool. A grin broke out on your face. Had it done it for you? Apparently not, because the box opened on its own and a heavy thick tome floated out from it and into the air. The hand beckoned the tome closer, and closer it came, until it was literally phasing through the glass.

"Hey! Wait––"

The glass shattered, the sound booming and ringing out in the silence like an explosion. You only had a second to react, instinctually using your arms to shield your face from the glass flying out in every direction. When it stopped, you looked around. The mattress was shredded, the curtains torn to shreds, wooden furniture cut as if done by an axe, but miraculously you were somehow unharmed.

A breath, not of your own, caught your attention. Your eyes darted over to the now broken mirror, awestruck at the vision of a figure stepping over broken glass. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, more than any words could convey. Their hair like gold and eyes an alluring shade of purple like two amethyst stones, soft pink lips, and a tall slim pale figure clothed in odd robes. For a moment, whoever this person was, appeared disoriented for a brief moment, but they clutched the tome like a lifeline. The tome that came from the box you had stolen.

"Thank you––"

He breathed, his voice quiet as he attempted to stand tall and upright. When his legs nearly gave out beneath him, you were there to catch his hand and prevent him from falling as he looked at you with appreciation. You were just stunned, bewildered, in pure disbelief.

"You... You freed me. You returned my stolen tome...!"

He exclaimed in disbelief, as he restored his posture. Somehow, he was able to stand in heels, but heels were currently one of the least important details.

What did he mean freed?

There was no time to ask any questions. The loud sound of the shattering must've alerted any of your pursuers that had followed you thus far, because from the balcony you could make out the torchlights weaving their way directly towards the bridge.

The mysterious man from the mirror took notice of your expression of dismay as he glanced at the distant torchlights. Smoothing out his robes, he looked back at you and took in your expression. "Enemies of yours?"

"Yes..." You nod slowly.

"Now that just won't do. I can't have anyone harming, or even killing my savior. I've yet to even learn your name." Tapping some well-manicured fingers against the spine of the tome, he appeared to contemplate something. When he stopped tapping his fingers, he smiled so sweetly. "I am Vil Schoenheit, prince and prodigy. Here's my proposition to you, my savior: I will destroy your enemies for a small price. You must tell me your name, and I will grant you my protection."

Of course you gave him your name, and almost immediately you saw the fog below turn an odd color. The torchlights flickered out, you no longer heard their encouraged shouts to move forward but instead their screams echoing in the dark woods. All after Vil murmured a few words in a foreign tongue read from his tome, as he continued to gaze at your intently. What exactly was he to cause so much death in a single instant with hardly any effort...? And you were stuck in this abandoned castle with him.

The prince had no plans to abandon you, he's made that much clear when you attempted to casually part ways after thanking him for getting rid of your pursuers. Stay. I can make it worth your while. Once I reach my former glory, you'll be able to bask in it with me. Is what he said as you swore you heard the front of the castle be sealed shut.

The entire time he looked around the castle with disdain, cross as he complained about the state of his home. While helping him clean up some rooms, he told you more about himself. Vil was a prince who once lived in this castle, set to inherent the throne shortly after the death of his father. However, he was widely feared due to being a prodigy in dark magics and genius at brewing concoctions. For attempting to steal the life of a younger kinder foreign prince who specialized in good magic, he was trapped in a mirror with his tome being the only key to grant him freedom.

Vil actually appeared to be much too fond of you, which you attributed to his isolation. If you were imprisoned all alone in a mirror for centuries, you likely would've gone insane. It was a miracle Vil's mind was intact, but maybe he wasn't there entirely. Because what sane person killed people with the snap of their fingers while smiling so kindly at the one who set him free?

Pridefully he listed off his feats and accomplishments. Living prodigy. Most beautiful man in the land. Prince of the land. It felt too much like flaunting, as he wanted you to realize how truly great he was. He replaced your clothes with his own, and while combing your hair he reminded you that what's rightfully his will be returned to him one day, and you would be there beside him that day.

The crown was what he wanted, a crown he believed was stolen from him and passed down to the descendants of the very good prince he attempted to kill. He spoke of a future in the castle restored to its former glory, where citizens would be loyal to him once again, and those that wronged him will receive a fate worse than death. Positions were open for applying once he became king, he told you one day. He was still searching for a vassal, a knight, a jester, or a partner to wear a crown as well.

Was it the isolation that had driven him to become so attached to the one who set him free? It was possible, but you couldn't even be sure. For all you knew, he could've been like this before he became trapped in the mirror. What mattered now was that he did not make any effort to hide his attraction towards you. Vil was offering a thief all the riches he would attain after his plan for vengeance, and his heart in a golden box.

"Keep the knives I gifted you, although I doubt you'll have to resort to lifting a finger. Just allow me to handle it when the time comes. I want to extract vengeance slowly and painfully, make them hurt just as they did to me... And at the end of the day, you will be there, you little thief who stole my affections, to comfort me and drive away those memories of cold lonely centuries in darkness. You'll be there for me, won't you, my valiant savior?"

1K notes · View notes

pd1nne · 3 days

Text

THE FATUI’S CUMSLUT

all the male harbingers except Pulcinella

Really it all starts out simple; you were just a simple secretary for the Harbingers who worked directly under Pantalone.

So naturally it starts because of him.

He likes talking to you- not like, actually, loves. You’re the only person who’s actually willing to listen to his constant rambles about his theories of currency and he doesn’t know if it’s out of fear or because you’re actually willing but he still finds comfort in it.

It’s so comforting that honestly, it kinda turns him on…like no one has ever actually sat with him and listened to him with such focus that he’s lining over you, both lovingly and sickingly.

How the stress relief starts…he’s bold.

by bold, meaning you quite literally caught him jerking off to the thought of you as you walked into bring him a few papers to sigh, and he was bold enough to ask you for your help; and of course you oblige!

okay now actually onto the actual smut part;

Pantalone, who is probably the second sweetest out of all of them when he fucks you. As teasing as he is, he makes sure to pleasure you.

Pantalone, who just laughs when you say you want to pleasure him instead, and he’ll tell you that your pleasure is enough to get him off for days.

Pantalone, who sometimes just can’t handle all the stress the others push on him and he’ll come find you, bending you over any near substance and prioritizing his pleasure just for a bit.

Pantalone, who can also just push you against the wall of the castle halls, not caring if anyone sees you. He knows the risk turns you on, and he loves it.

Pantalone, who fucks into you so passionately yet roughly; so obsessed with how your tits bounce he just has to grope them as he fucks you. He might even fuck them too, and let you suck the tip of his cock.

Pantalone, who passes this information onto his good partner Dottore, who decides he has to really test out the theory that you’re as good as Pantalone says you are.

Dottore, who decides he’ll need you for certain experiments. You’re hesitant, but he promised he’d never do anything to hurt his loyal assistant.

Dottore, whose experiments are really just seeing how many times you can cum on a drug, a toy, his hand or his dick.

Dottore, who is WAY more teasing than Pantalone and wants to pleasure you, but makes sure his pleasure is always given no matter what.

Dottore, who loves to try any new kink or idea with you. Whether it be bondage, role playing kink- anything! you’re the only one he will do it with

Dottore, who is just so rough on your poor cunt :( who’ll rub your clit as he fucks into you so harshly, the slaps echoing through his lab.

Dottore, who WILL fuck you in front of the segments or have multiple of them fuck you while he watches

Dottore, who then passes this onto his comrade, Capitano.

Capitano, who is the sweetest out of all of them.

Capitano, who yes, does need you for his stress relief but he doesn’t wanna hurt you. Instead, he’ll go at your own pace- he knows his cock is too big for you and is patient to get you ready.

Capitano, who praises the most out of them all. It’s a shock because he’s typically quiet, but a “good girl” will make you cum on the spot.

Capitano, who will only go rough on you once you beg him too, and he will quite literally fuck you like a monster.

Capitano, who is just so big even his fingers make you go crazy. He’ll wipe your tears as you complain about how big it is and he’ll try his best to soothe you.

Capitano, when rough, goes absolutely drunk on your pussy and fucks his cum into it for hours even if you’re too overstimulated.

Capitano, who’s coat is so big that when the others aren’t using you, he’ll have you sit on his lap during meetings and wrap his coat around you- hiding how you’re warming his cock, or sometimes he might not even use the coat.

Capitano, who passes this information onto his good friend, Pierro.

Pierro, who could be the sweetest if we considered this in terms of how gentle they were when they fuck you.

Pierro, who is actually practically monsterfucking you whenever he chooses to use you.

Pierro, who is sweet because he doesn’t like to use you a lot- he knows how much the others do and how much it makes you sore so instead he’s the king of aftercare, making sure you come to him after them if they don’t take care of you so that he can.

Pierro, who sometimes just can’t help it because he’s too stressed out, and has to bend you over his desk and fuck you for hours.

Pierro, who does care about your pleasure just a bit, but you are his stress relief aren’t you? He’ll remind you as he cums for the nth time in you, you a babbling a mess.

Pierro, who isn’t really as kinky or exhibiting as the others and likes to fuck you in the comfort of his office. However, he may steal Capitano’s idea and slowly and subtly bounce you on his cock while you’re under his coat, hiding from the others.

Pierro, who’s dick is just too big that the moment he even lets the tip in you’re already going absolutely drunk on his cock.

Pierro, who notices Childe’s recent sickness caused by his delusion, and suggests a reason for him to finally relax in certain ways; you.

Childe, who is the last on the list of being the sweetest.

Childe, who sure, he’ll praise you when you do so good and degrade you just how you like- will use you the most out of all the men

Childe, who is just soooo tired and stressed and he needs your pussy to suck his cock in at least once every hour.

Childe, who will have you cockwarm him as he does his work and spanks your thigh when you try to get some relief and tells you to be patient and that he’ll tend to you once he’s done.

Childe, who does care about your pleasure and makes sure to make you cum first, but the real reason is because he wants you overstimulated so you can cry and beg for him to stop- it turns him on because you know you don’t want him to.

Childe, who will fuck you anywhere and everywhere. The lounge rooms? Every couch has been used. The kitchen? You’ve been bent over every counter? The halls? He’ll hold you up and fuck into you.

Childe, who does not care if someone sees or hears you two and will purposely make you scream so the subordinates outside his office can hear and remind them that they can’t have someone as gorgeous as you.

Childe, who even if it seems like he sees you as his cock sleeve, does care about you and makes sure you get good aftercare and will massage you- him and Pierro are great minds alike.

Childe, who is the one to suggest to all of them to use you when they’re all in the castle.

You, who by the end of the day, is a babbling mess; you’re covered in their cum while some of it dropped out of all your holes. There were honestly hundreds of bite and hickey marks littered over you- your neck, thighs, tits, ass, hips. It’s insane. and all they can think about is how they can’t wait to continue using your slutty pussy.

follow me/keep up with me on my other platforms!

Twitter; II_MakeLemonade

Wattpad; GottaMakeLemonade

754 notes · View notes

pd1nne · 5 days

Text

Arlecchino x fatui ! Wife ! Reader

Toxic relationship - Arranged marriage

1K notes · View notes

pd1nne · 5 days

Text

military bum

(mdni)

carlos oliveira x reader

warnings: gilf carlos, fem!reader, p in v, large age gap

a/n: hi. yeah. all stemmed from one teeny little shower thought. gilf carlos is real. i'm not letting you all die and leavin you in a cold, cruel gilf carlosless world. i also tried a little more crass writing style with this, so lmk if it's shit or not. this is not proof read, like always.... IF I HAVE TO REPOST THIS SHIT ONE MORE TIME I AM GONNA KMS

wc: 2.1k

Working in a care home isn't exactly what you'd panned out for your life. You thought you could be something cooler, like, a fucking astronaut, maybe a model, or even an actress.

But you're a bum, well, you look like one. Maybe it's the low self esteem talking, or the lies spouted in your ears when you were a kid. Kids suck, kids are little shits.

Most of the oldies in the care home seem to agree, but then again, most of them are sweet things, always telling you that you should be doing something better than this, and they can see it in your eyes that working in an old folks home isn't what you're made out to be.

Whatever the case was, you were stuck here. Cleaning old ladies' asses, feeding old men who'd complain about the slop they were given, saying it's like school dinners all over again.

You had to agree though, but what do they expect? Fine dining?

One thing care workers don't tell you is that they always have a favourite. Ignore having to treat them like babies, but some have great personalities.

Your favourite oldie? Yeah, it's the hot old guy, Carlos. Okay, even you know he's a little old for you (a little is an understatement, the man is seventy-five).

Even so, all the single old ladies in the care home pine after him. Kind of pathetic really (which coming from you, is ironic.)

He's funny, always starts randomly talking about the shit he's seen. Yeah, he's a military bum, always starts talking about the horrors he's seen, even while you're wiping his ass clean.

Which also leads onto the fact that you've seen his cock. Look, you like older men anyway, a little bit of stubble and a lot of chest hair goes a long way, and the occasional wrinkle or two hurt no one.

Well, with Carlos? Those wrinkles are hot as shit. Makes his face look like a fuckin’ Da Vinci panting. You're not an art nerd, but you wanna say that's a good thing. He painted the Mona Lisa anyhow.

And his cock? You wouldn't say it has wrinkles, but it does. Just ‘round the tip, there's some creases. Saggy skin, y'know?

He's got a lot of that actually. His muscles have deteriorated, comes with age and all. Such a loss really, he's been kind enough to show you pictures of his younger self just so you can get a preview of what he once was, and it's a beautiful sight.

Apart from the loss of muscles, the wrinkles and the saggy skin, not much has changed. Sure, his hair is more akin to one of a donkey's tail, all wiry and tinted dark grey at the roots and stemming out to a somewhat light grey sits atop his head, rather than it being a dark mop.

But the stubble is still there, and it seems to never go away. You know that all too well, you have to shave for him ever since he once majorly cut himself on one of those fancy old razors.

Military men like a clean shave, you try to grace him with that respect, but it grows back like it's fucking weeds, and you ultimately decided to shave him every other week, rather than every week.

Sometimes you just have to give in.

Anyway, Carlos is your favourite resident in the old folks home, just because he's hot and funny. Miserable too, but that's how you like your men. Grumpy and much to complain about.

That's how old people show that they love you. Complaining about politics, their kids, their grandkids, money, the food, all the usual bullshit because after living on the planet longer than you or any of the workers have, your patience wears thin.

Not Carlos though. You're a clumsy girl, you're surprised you've not lost your job yet because of how bad you are, but that's besides the main point.

He doesn't complain when you drop his food on the floor, or when you accidentally throw a slipper at him, or even when you have to go on all fours to get under his bed because you dropped your phone again.

Well, the phone thing is on purpose. You try to make sure you're bending over somehow to pick something up, just so he can get a good view of what should be an ass. You've not exactly got a BBL on you, but you do what you can.

Everything else is accidental, you swear on your mother's life. And your father's life too for extra measure.

You're not really sure what you're hoping for when you do it, to be frank, you don't think he'd look at you that way at all. It's not like he can get up and pull your trousers to get an eyeful of your bare ass. He's wheelchair bound for god's sake.

All it takes is for a turn of events to change that mindset of ‘he'll never fuck me’, and now you're thinking you've got a chance to get that wrinkly dick again.

It was when you were folding up his night clothes, laying them out neatly as he laid on his bed, flipping through that familiar photo album you must've seen more times than your own family.

“You know,” It comes out gravelly, and you wince as he lets out a couple of harsh coughs, before continuing. You hope it's not a monologue. “I think this job is wasted on ya.”

Not the monologue you were expecting, but it makes you freeze and whip your head ‘round to face him. “Wh- well- what else could I do?’

Very cool, and very smooth from you. Words are a fickle thing, hard to get out, especially when a hot oldie is in your presence. “I don't know- maybe you'd do good in the military.”

“Military?!” You almost shriek it out, before you shake your head quickly, as well as a really awkward laugh. “No- no way, that's um- yeah- no. I'm too clumsy for that kind of thing, don't you think?.”

It's quiet after that, so you go back to doing whatever you were doing. Right, folding clothes and putting them away. You're already scurrying around the room, doing as such, all the while Carlos has a careful, yet watchful eye on you.

“You do as you're told.” It's barely a mumble, spoken as if you're prey that's about to be caught and you don't want to be alerted of the imminent danger ahead of you.

You hear it anyway, and the clothes in your hands slip out and crumple to the floor, uncaring of the creases that may be born on the cloth from doing so. “But- I get paid too.”

Carlos chuckles, but in comes that painful cough again, and you could've sworn you could hear his chest rattling. God, you're really desperate for this man. “So you do.”

Picking up the clothes, you daren't look back at him, in case he bites your head. He's kind of intimidating, and also hot, but still intimidating.

“You got a boyfriend knockin’ around somewhere?” Hearing that makes you shut the drawer on your finger, and you yank your hand away and yelp. God you're a real clutz. Not in a cute way.

After that little freak out, you spin on the balls of your feet and grin at him. Not in a cute way, in a way where you look like you've just seen something horrifying and you're trying your best to ignore it. “Uh- no boyfriend, no way.”

“No way?” Another laugh, another harsh cough. He really needs to stop finding you funny or his chest is going to cave in. “You never had one or somethin’?”

You shake your head, already heading toward his bed to sit on it. This is definitely not what you're supposed to be doing during work hours, but you'll pass it off as you being friendly if anyone asks questions.

“Such a shame, I would've snatched you up quickly.” He opens his arms out, and you can vaguely resemble some muscle on him, obviously most of it is gone. “But I'm not exactly in my hay days.”

Your eyes crinkle and your smile grows wide on your face at that, and all you do is place a kiss on his cheek. It's one thousand percent against protocol, but anything to make the pretty old guy feel special.

But just as you pull away, his hand locks around your bicep, and you stop in your tracks, like you're under a spell of sorts.

“Could ya do somethin’ for me, sweetheart?” You nod, very quickly and enthusiastically because your panties are starting to get a little wet already. “Could you get my cock out?”

Oh. Well, if all it took was a boyfriend question and the nervous act to get him to pop the question, you weren't taking any complaints.

Hands hook the waistband, and you have to physically pull his cock out. It's half hard, which is quite surprising actually. Must've shown on your face because Carlos had something to say about it. “Wow darlin’, I'm not so old that my dick doesn't work.”

Actually, you'd disagree. He's seventy-five, and the fact that his bones are creaking around, every laugh is accompanied by a painful cough and he can barely lift himself out of bed sometimes.

At least his dick works.

“C'mon, lemme see that pussy.” It's in that gravelly tone, but he doesn't bother clearing his throat, and you're glad, shit sounds hot as fuck.

Getting up off the bed, you pull down your trousers, stepping out of them so you're only clad in your panties. The wet spot is even visible on the front of them, and Carlos ushers you closer for a better look.

His index finger runs along your folds, and you try your very best to hold in a giggle as he squints at your crotch. It's hot to be honest, which means he wants to get a real good look.

“Babygirl,” He mumbles, and you step just a little closer to him, just to give his rugged eyes a break. “Can I see your tits too?”

Nodding hurriedly, you throw your top and bra off as if your life depended on it, letting it float to the floor gracelessly.

He pats his lap, and you're very reluctant because what if you break his pelvis or something? Might lose your job. Besides, how would you even explain it?

“Come on baby, I'm not that fragile.” You'd beg to differ, but who are you to deny him? You'd regret it if you stopped this far. “Give me those though.”

He points to your pants, and like you said, how can you deny him?

Slipping off the final layer, you plop them in his hands and watch how he sniffs them, and he actually groans at that. Makes you feel like you're dripping all over the goddamn floor.

“God- makin’ me feel young again sweetheart.” You laugh at that, and finally get up onto his lap, straddling him so your pussy rests over his cock.

It takes a couple of tries for you to get his cock in. Shit's big, but not big enough for a clean slip in. It's never a clean business anyway.

He's dry as fuck, no precum was on him at all. Good thing you're wetter than fish in water, ‘cause he feels nice ‘n plush in you. His tip rests just shy of your cervix, though it's still a tight fit and it's kinda painful too.

You're too scared to bounce on his dick, might bounce a little too hard and something might crack, so you just settle with rolling your hips.

Since you're already pretty sensitive, it's not long before you're moaning on his dick, rolling your hips with a certain vigour, alongside one of Carlos’ hands gripping your side, and his thumb on the other hand is busy rubbing roughly on your clit.

“Your tits were made for this.” Seems he's enjoying the show, loving the way your tits bounce up and down at your harsh jolts.

You start bouncing on his cock, hearing that soft clapping sound of your soft skin hit gently against his clothed dry skin, and it feel real fuckin’ good. Much better than your hand, that's for sure.

“God- slow down a little-” His words barely register in your head, much less so now that you're cumming all over his dick, clenching around him like no tomorrow.

It takes him a little longer than you to finish, and you're a little more oversensitive than you'd like. But you let him finish in you, sputtering inside you like a leaky pipe just waiting to burst.

You slump against him, panting like you've just done a crazy work out, and Carlos gets a little winded from that, but no broken ribs, at least, you think so.

190 notes · View notes

pd1nne · 5 days

Text

TOKYO REVENGERS MEN AND THEIR PUPPYGIRLS’ COLLARS + LEASHES !

⚠️ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖+. ⚠️

What happens when your owner gifts you a new collar and leash?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: ran haitani, manjiro sano (mikey), hajime kokonoi, chifuyu matsuno, baji keisuke makes a cameo in chifuyu's, mitsuya takashi, naoto tachibana

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW in mikey's kokonoi's mitsuya's and naoto's, suggestive themes + implied foursome in chifuyu's, dubcon + implied gangbang in mikey's, spanking, f!reader, animal-human hybrid reader, timeskip & aged up characters

𝐀/𝐍: i have severe puppygirl brainrot and i really should be finishing my collab pieces but i just had to get this out of my system. also let's pretend the 'diamonds' in koko's collar of choice is real ahslhgjflh you can also probably tell i got a bit lazy towards the end as i was approaching naoto's part but that's because i've been working on this nonstop for like 2 hours... oops. this isn't beta-read btw we die like tired men after juicing themselves of all their puppygirl thoughts

➢ you were on a playdate with your owner's brother's puppy

➢ she was so unnecessarily mean! constantly tugging at your ears and tail, nipping at you, berating you and calling you a dumb mutt

➢ after you skulk back to your owner with your tail in between your legs and tell him what happened, he chastises his younger brother for not training his puppy well ➢ then he returns to you, smiling with a package in his hands

➢ when he shows you it's contents, you nearly peed yourself in excitement

"Does my pretty little pup like her gift?" You nod and wag your tail so vigorously that 𝐑𝐚𝐧 was afraid you'd break your appendages. Fortunately, you did not and saved him another hospital visit (which oftentimes happened due to your clumsy puppypaws and nature). He laughs—your favorite sound in the whole wide world—as you almost trip over yourself bounding up to him to lick every inch of his face. "This was originally supposed to be your birthday present but I see nothing wrong with giving my good girl what she deserves earlier than intended," he says, smiling. You forget all about Rindou's mean, mean puppy and can't seem to stop jumping around and happily yipping until Ran pulls you in by the ring situated in front of your brand new 100% leather collar to swallow your yips with kisses infused with vigor that matched that of your earlier nodding and tail-wagging.

➢ you were blindfolded, scared and uncertain of where you were, a plethora of new smells infiltrating your sensitive nose

➢ all the joy you felt that morning when your enigmatic owner presented you with a shiny new collar and leash became replaced with fear as you get tugged along by the leash into the unknown depths of tokyo

➢ the only thing grounding you was the certainty of your favorite human's aroma, and you knew everything was going to be okay

𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐲 coos to you, "we're almost there," as he weaves through the many twists and turns of Tokyo's streets. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stops walking and you almost bump into his legs from the abruptness of his halt. Suddenly, unfamiliar scents of a group of people flood your senses. You sniff along the floor and what seemed to be furniture with caution, calm only because Mikey's scent was most prevalent. Then unexpectedly, your blindfold is untied and your big puppyeyes land on the faces of seven new strangers. "Well ain't she a cute one?" asks the one with the droopy eyes and dual-colored mullet. Mikey hums in agreement and commands you to stay. You do so, curiously tilting your head in wonder of what he'll do next. You could never tell with your wild card of a master. He sits in a chair, before gesturing at the men surrounding you and settling in his seat as if he was preparing to watch a show. "Go on. Share her but don't cum in any of her holes or else you'll find a few holes in your body." The men grin wolfishly down at you, and you never felt smaller. This was going to be a long night.

➢ you were sad because your master was almost always busy with bonten as one of their executives (not that you know that as koko would like to keep you as pure and uncorrupt as possible, sheltering you in his penthouse and doting on you whenever he can), you would've never guessed the surprise waiting for you when he unexpectedly comes home one day

➢ he calls out for you and you immediately pad up to him—well-behaved due to the many specialized trainers he had you train under—quiet and sitting still, awaiting his next words

➢ he sets a luxurious and expensive-looking shopping bag in front of you and juts out his chin towards it, a silent command for you to open it yourself

➢ you tear into it and stare dumbly at the 100% real fur-lined collar studded in real diamonds alongside the pink silk bow that adorns the complementing leash, then up at your owner, cocking your head to the side in such a cute manner that koko wanted to take you right then and there

Sometimes the moneymaking genius forgets that his obedient little puppygirl had limited knowledge of the world ever since he raised her in his lavish home. 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨 crouches down to give you scritches underneath your chin as he explains, "this is a leash and collar. The collar symbolizes that you're mine and the leash is so I can take you out on walks because I think you finally deserve them. You've done so well with your training, so consider this your reward." You gingerly pick up the accessories, sniffing at them and whining when they didn't smell like your owner like everything else in the penthouse did. "Here, let me put it on for you," Koko speaks while his diligent fingers clasp the collar around your neck and smiles at how beautiful you looked. He beckons you to follow when he walks into your bedroom. "C'mere, I have another surprise for you." By the end of the day, your owner has you fucked stupid in matching lingerie; relentlessly hitting it from the back while pulling your head back by the leash's chain, taking photos of your drooling face to replace the one he already has of you in his wallet.

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒: "What's a 'cum slut?'" you naively ask, referring to the lettering on the collar with round, inquisitive eyes as Koko freezes from stroking your hair in your king-sized bed where you were cuddling into his chest. Now how was he supposed to explain to his innocent pup something so filthy?

➢ being the owner of a animal-human hybrid pet shop allowed chifuyu to get his hands on all the best pet gear in tokyo, and when he saw the latest shipment's collars and leashes he knew he found the perfect one for you

➢immediately when he returns home to his apartment does he whistle for you

➢ you were sleeping when he calls for you; one of your floppy ears perk up at the sound and you quickly run over to him, panting as you jump up at him

➢ he catches you with practiced ease, and spins you around all the while chuckling at how easily excitable you were

➢ not long after he gives you a bath, chifuyu reveals the collar and leash he thought would look the best on you

"Twirl." Complying, 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐲𝐮 proceeds to call you his 'bestest girl' as he throws you a bone-shaped treat. He admires the way the pink faux leather is snugly fit around the column of your neck, and it nearly gets him hard. But, he must restrain himself and train you for your first ever walk. You get back down on all-fours and trot after your beloved master as he walks to the door. "Let's go girl," he says in that high-pitched obnoxious voice pet owners use to talk to their puppygirls. You loved it just as much as the next puppy and allow Chifuyu to lead you just outside the door before you start springing forward at full-speed, stringing along an unprepared Chifuyu who is desperately trying to get you to slow down to no avail. You only stop when you reach Baji's doorstep and nudge your wet nose against the doorbell; meanwhile your owner has his hands on his thighs as he makes a valiant attempt to catch his breath. After a few moments, the door finally opens to reveal a shirtless Baji. Whimpering could be heard from inside the Baji residence and you start barking as you recognize that that was your friend whimpering! Were they in pain? Were they okay? You just wanted to see your puppyfriend and show off your shiny new collar! You start tugging at your leash again only to be stopped short by Baji's monolithic figure. "Care to join us?" he asks, a smirk stretching his lips and showing his own fanged canines. Chifuyu goes red as it dawns on him what exactly his best friend was up to with his pet. And so, both your nights end with two little pups stuffed with cum and two pet owners relieved of their stress.

➢ you weren't the happiest pup around; mitsuya was always traveling due to his fashion designer profession and lately he just had to book rooms in hotels that prohibited pets!

➢ so you give him a piece of your mind when he comes home to his room being turned utterly upside-down, clothes strewn about everywhere and fashion magazines torn to shreds

➢ the incompetent puppysitter in charge of you apologizes to him profusely about not being able to control you and mitsuya keeps a tight smile on his face all the way until she takes her leave

➢ you've never seen your owner so mad before

"Count," 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 seethes as he bunches up the leather of the leash he planned to give you as an apology gift for being away so frequently. With each strike against the bare flesh of your ass, you whine pitifully. Mitsuya wasn't having it. "Do I need to muzzle you? Be quiet and take your punishment like a good girl." His cold tone makes the weight of the guilt on your chest even heavier, but it also ignites a flame of arousal within your core. Your livid master lets out a sharp laugh. "You're not supposed to be getting off to this you absolute puppywhore." He swipes two fingers through your slit, collecting slick that he webs between his long digits. Your apologies fall on deaf ears. “You don't deserve this gift do you?" Mitsuya's patience was running thin. "Well?" You sob out a "N-No!" that only pleases him for so long. You count twenty spanks before the angry Mitsuya before you reverts back to his softer self. He plants gentle kisses along your hairline and whispers sweet nothings and apologies into your ear. "You know I'd bring you everywhere with me if I could, but there are just no other hotels available right now that I can book a room in which'll allow you in." he speaks in that low loving way of his, and you sniffle. "So you still want me?" you ask tearfully. A small smile graces your owner's handsome face. "Forever and always."

➢ naoto was so proud of you, his best girl having been able to successfully help the police with a drug bust that they've been having trouble with for a while until they called in you— the best police puppy that tokyo had to offer

➢ you couldn't help the tears that freely streamed down your cute little puppyface when naoto showed you the new collar and leash he had custom made for you with your name engraved onto a little tag that hung off the front of the collar

➢ you bowled him over in your ecstasy, lathering his face with puppykisses that soon led from one thing to another

You moan, absolutely bathing in the praise your master was bestowing upon you. "Whose my good girl? Whose my good girl?" 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐨 repeats, relishing in the way your eyes shone with concrete devotion and adoration for him. He valued your loyalty and never planned to separate you from his side, even in the workforce. "Me! It's me!" you yap as you bounce on Naoto's cock, eyes threatening to roll back into your cranium. "Mhm, and don't you forget it," he states, helping your quivering legs by using his large hands to cup your ass and bounce you even harder on his lap. This had to be your third orgasm of the night, and Naoto was planning to give you as many as you wanted along with anything you wanted just for your special night. "It looks gorgeous on you..." he breathes; running his fingertips over the yellow high-quality leather of the studded collar that hugs your throat. "You look even more gorgeous!" you giggle, reveling at how your boss and master's face gets taken over by a deep blush.

"D-Don't say such things..."

"Or else what?"

"Or else you'll be the death of me."

2K notes · View notes

pd1nne · 5 days

Text

house of cards

ft. bully!mikey x reader

+ mikey has built quite the reputation for himself, you can't help but be tempted to make it all tumble down.

cw. dark content, college au, afab!fem!reader, noncon filming and pictures taken, slapping, dom!mikey, toxic mikey, name calling, degradation, objectification (?), writing on skin, he rubs his dick on ur face um yeah, unprotected sex against reader's will, mentions of STIs tho mikey's clean, one mention of piss, death threat, slight overstimulation, bullying.

an. 18+, minors dni. i love mean mikey yup yup make me cry ilysm. this is a drabble okay ?? :) smile and nod or else. 1,8k, not proofread. please lmk if i missed any tags.

The door swings open like a gale of wind attempting to wreak havoc in your dorm. Not a storm, no—Manjiro Sano. You look over your shoulder before plunging back into the comfort of your bed.

"Most people knock, you know." Boots thunder against your cheap hardwood floors, icy and nimble fingers harshly grabbing at your jaw as he leans over the bed in all his mad glory.

"Is that so?" His words drip of venom and the abyss hides itself in his charcoal eyes and midnight hair. "Most dogs behave, you know." You gulp—you didn't think he'd be this mad.

"Are ya gonna explain yourself," You yelp as he pulls your hair and drags you off the bed. "You sneaky little bitch?" He shoves you down on your knees while he plops himself comfortably where you were lying just a second ago. "I didn't—I didn't do anything-" Your head turns abruptly and your cheek stings. Tears well up in your eyes and a sob escapes you. "Wrong."

Mikey lets out a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. "I don't think you understand the situation you're in, sweetheart." His silence speaks volumes, filling in blanks you wish you couldn't read. "Confess to your filthy little sins and maybe I won't make your life a livin' hell." It's terrifying, the way his lips tug into a wicked smile, not a single speck of benevolence in his vicious eyes.

"I might have.. said some things.." His eyebrow quirks up, lithe fingers pointing down at his jeans. "Do I need to help you with every fuckin' sentence? Spit it out already, mutt." You fumble with his belt and the metal clings clearly in your mind. Pulling down his zipper, you gaze up at him—regret washes over you the second his orbs meet yours.

"I told Senju to," You clear your throat when your shaky hands press against the wet patch of fabric, Mikey's cock twitching despite his cold demeanor. "-told her to spread some rumors about you.. They weren't anything serious! Just a little funny-" "Funny?" Mikey clicks his tongue.

"Spreadin' a rumor 'bout me having more STI's than letters in my name is funny?" You don't know what demon possessed you to snort when you were one foot in the grave already, but Satan's never liked you that well. "Oh? You're a brave one, aren't ya?" If he wanted you to answer, he doesn't let you when he shoves your face into the soaked fabric of his boxers.

"Wasn't just one lie you blubbered with that useless mouth of yours," His pupils dilate and the faintest of moans slip out between his plush lips when your tongue wets his underwear and laps at the precum dripping through. "Seems like I can't get it up either, huh?" They're all blatant lies, that much is evident when his cock springs up when you pull the fabric down—it blushes red at the tip and leaks down the sides of his length.

"What'cha even good for if you can't get my dick hard?" You ogle at him with big puppy eyes. It's already hard, you fucker. His dick bounces against your chin, vein pulsating against the flesh.

Mikey presses the tip against your face, admiring the way his cock drools down your skin. Bored by the current flow of the ongoing event, he wraps his fingers around your throat before pulling you towards the bed. His hand tightens its hold before he roughly throws you onto the mattress.

Cold fingers dip underneath your clothing and they make haste sliding each attire off your skin. Barely a few seconds pass with your bare body exposed to the air before he rubs his leaking slit around your entrance. "Wh-what are you doing? Put on a condom already."

"Nah, don't feel like it." He circles your pulsating clit with a hand wrapped around his shaft and a perverse glint in his eyes. "I mean, sharing's caring, yea? If the rumors you poured your heart 'n soul into are lies, then ya have nothing to worry 'bout!" A devilish smile with pitch-black orbs bore into you.

His hand snakes up your body till Mikey has his palm covering your mouth. Eyes drip of obsidian when he impales himself inside you with one deep and painful thrust. You gasp and drool into his hand, being completely at the Devil's mercy. "But lyin' ain't cute, sweetheart."

Rasping against your walls, Mikey's length pistons inside you with fervor and no care of your incessant whining. Legs thrown over his shoulders, his abs flex with each roll of his hips. Mikey's always been a piece of shit—there's not a single person on campus who hasn't heard his name at least once.

Notorious for seeking out trouble and adding fuel to the fire which is his insanity, any person in their right mind would walk the other way when seeing him. Unfortunately for you, he simply came running to you—itching to make you his new victim for his continuous bullying and pestering.

There's nothing he enjoys more than others suffering as a result of his foul actions. Taking your underwear before class, spitting on you when he sees you in the library—hell, one time he fucking peed inside you after fucking you in the public bathroom. There's no escaping his atrocities; one word and he could change the trajectory of your life for the worse.

Is it really that surprising that you wanted to get back at him just once? Though it's clear as day to you now—once is one too many when it comes to Mikey and his limited patience.

You wish you could bring yourself to walk away, but there's no hiding the slick that runs down your thighs every time he drags his fat cock out of your clenching hole. Shame floods your veins and your cheeks heat up at the sheer loudness of each squelch of his balls against your skin.

"This pussy's fuckin' mine, got it?" A paroxysm of pleasure strikes like lightning through your veins, nodding along in a frenzy. His hands dig into the flesh of your hips, tongue darting out to lick his lip. "If I see ya with someone else I'll fuckin' beat them to death," Clenching around him like a vice, your velvet walls quiver when his mushroom tips kisses against your deepest spot.

"Cunt's got my name on it, but my cock will never be yours." he snickers. You can't bring yourself to say anything back, the heat spreading in your abdomen about to burst, fingernails digging into the palms of your hands and eyes shutting close. "'M gonna-gonna cum—Mikey!" Fingers dip down to squeeze at your nipples with a haze of lust swirling in his eyes. "Look at me when you cum on my cock, slut." Your eyes roll back into your skull and your back arches into his body.

"Cunt's so sloppy, got an expiration date on this shit?" The filthiest and most gutwrenching words spill out of his lips, yet his violent pace turns erratic and a gurgled moan slithers out of his throat when he pinches your clit and you cream all over his cock.

His calloused hand grabs your left leg, squishing the flesh when he presses it close to your chest. "The only dick fuckin' into you is mine, sweetheart." Harsh and deep rams of his shaft into your trembling cunt has you sobbing from overstimulation.

"How 'bout we start a new fuckin' rumor?" Your eyes cross when he flickers at your clit and you jolt against Mikey's clenching muscles. "..Huh?" He chuckles at you despite never halting the continuous 'pap, pap, pap' against your skin. "'This bitch y/n is such a cockhungry whore, throwing herself at Mikey just to be his personal cumdump'," He delivers a sharp thrust, burying himself deeper in your pulsating walls, fat balls hanging low and full of seed ready to blow in your tight cunt. "How's that for some drama?" He snickers at your dazed look. "You got the look already, don'cha?"

There's some rustling on the other side of the bed, but you don't catch it with the way his cock throbs inside of you, kissing that one spot that has you going stupid. "Yeah, that's the shit—squeeze my cock jus' like that," Mikey throws his head back, reluctant to cum anywhere but deep in your womb, but you don't deserve that.

He pulls out with a hiss, cock coated in slick and cum as he tugs and drags on his length with his lips tucked between his teeth. A guttural groan runs throw him as he sprays white seed out of his throbbing tip all over your tits and dripping onto your stomach and bare pussy. A blinding light coats your body and a 'click' resonates throughout the room.

"Ain't ya lucky—you're one photogenic little cocksleeve." Mikey presses his chest against your and bites your bottom lip till it bleeds and you whimper when he licks over it with a nasty grin on his face. "Got a pen or somethin' 'round here?" You're not coherent enough to understand the words tumbling out of his lips, let alone answer him.

You hear him rummage through your room with a light hum and delicate footsteps. "Ah, found one!" Like a giddy little kid, he jumps back into the bed, hands quick to fondle your tits and press against every inch of your skin.

"Don't move." You jerk when the tip of a pen digs into your skin, gasping into Mikey's arm. "I said," His eyes roll and he grips both your hands and push them into the mattress above your head. "Don't fuckin' move."

You trash and shake under his gaze, eyes hung low and focused on your ink-stained skin. "It tickles..!" His tongue darts out in concentration. "Almosttt done.." Mikey sits back on his heels and puts the top back on the pen, chuckling at his work.

"Now, just smile one last time." Your head lolls to your side in confusion, but a lazy tug on your lips will have to suffice. "No, no, no. Smile. Gimme that dumb grin you had when I drilled my cock in ya." Maybe it's the nefarious tint to his grin that has you obeying, a flash blinding your eyes before you can think to decline. When a video and pictures leak and flood social media like a plague—you gasp in horror at the blurry images, yet it's unmistakenly you.

A lewd video of the invincible Mikey ramming into your pussy and hole sucking him back in with each thrust circulates throughout campus and spreads like wildfire. By the time the original video has been taken down, it's been shared too many times to have any hope of ever disappearing.

Though, the image of your cute little grin with "Mikey's jizz jar" written in bold, blue letters on your lower stomach, right above your pussy—it's his favorite.

889 notes · View notes

pd1nne · 6 days

Text

ive developed a new studying technique called not doing it

9K notes · View notes

pd1nne · 7 days

Text

Master List

Key

Fem!- Female Bodied Reader

Male!- Male Bodied Reader

GN!- Gender Neutral Reader

Yan!- Yandere

NSFW- Not Safe For Work

Fluff- Fluffy fic

Ch- Chubby

Sh- Short

Ta- Tall

HC- Head Cannons

(DC)- Dubious Consent

(NC)- Non-Consensual

Plat- Platonic Pairing

Note: No Underage Characters. Characters in NSFW situations are aged up to 18+ or already 18+ Also, Minors, do not interact.

NOTE 2: I am only up to December 2021 In adding things to this, I will add more later. From start of Blog to December 2021 Anything beyond is not yet on here.

Keep reading

2K notes · View notes

pd1nne · 7 days

Text

Feitan is so gross.

TW: general grossness that translates into what sex is like with him along with some of his fucked up kinks. Rape, piss, blood, just awful stuff. You've been warned.

He hardly ever showers properly. He thinks that just standing under the water counts as getting clean.

Always has blood and dirt caked under his nails.

Doesn't brush his teeth as often as he should.

Doesn't shave his body hair. At all. He doesn't have a lot of hair anyway due to his stunted growth, but what little he does have is a rats nest. Mainly under his arms and groin area.

Feitan will go weeks without shaving his face and all he produces is patchy stubble.

Deodorant is also a rarity. He just forgets to put it on.

Having said all this, sex with him is also gross. Not just because of his hygiene, but also because of his kinks.

Fei loves predator/prey roleplay, knife play, blood play, scratching and biting. Anything that can make either of you bleed honestly.

Scent and hygiene doesn't bother him, in fact he's got a bit of a scent kink and hates when his partners shower before sex.

His cock is about 3 inches, and uncut. He's got a lot of foreskin and based on his hygiene you can guess just how gross it is. He's got tight little balls and could pass as adolescent if it wasn't for all the pubic hair.

Feitan's grossness just increases because he has a piss kink. He'll piss on you, or in you, and make you drink his urine while you suck him off.

An absolute sadist and could cum just from watching you get uncomfortable and humiliated.

Isn't above rape. If you say no, he's probably going to do it anyway. Especially if you've caught his attention.

158 notes · View notes

pd1nne · 7 days

Text

Feitan Head Cannon

Feitan does not like giving out compliments. So much so that you've grown used to the smart ass remarks and little insults wat he would throw wat you. At this point you find them to be terms of endearment. But there are times in the quiet moments when he'll tell you little things in his first language. Knowing that you won't understand what he's saying, he'll whisper compliments to you and watch your nose scrunch up in confusion as you pester him to tell you what he said.

200 notes · View notes

pd1nne · 7 days

Text

YANDERE! FEITAN PORTER X DARLING!

TOUCH

⚠️ This is a work of fiction with content I do not condone in reality. This is not meant to encourage or represent any type or sort of conduct. This is merely just fantasy ⚠️

MDNI•18+

Trigger warnings!

This work contains: Yandere content/intentions•NSFW•Kidnapping•Holding against will (darling)•Cursing•Mentions of abuse/torture•Stockholm Syndrome•General depravity•Obsessive tendencies•Sexual acts (consensual but darling is psychologically not sound of mind to be consenting, so somewhat dubcon)•Oral•fem darling•Somnophilia

You have been properly warned and notified of what this work contains. If anything above offends or triggers you, please do not continue reading. Don’t make me waste my time writing all this out only for someone to read and get offended when all the warning literally tell them what is in this. You reading this confirms you are 18+ years of age, meaning a consenting adult agreeing to proceed and consume this content, do not come after me or report me because you aren’t capable of managing yourself.

I appreciate support and love from anyone viewing and enjoying my content. Thank you♥️ I freakin’ love this 1999 anime artwork of Feitan!

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*

Time suddenly seemed to become irrelevant.

The days passed in a mundane blur, and at some point, everything seemed worthless.

He mentioned in passing that it was November now, though you’d stopped asking the date a few months after your imprisonment. You stopped talking nearly all together these last few months. You couldn’t be entirely sure the last you’d spoken more than a word or two in response to his questions. His own speech minimal, though occasionally you’d catch a glimpse of his chattier side. Even that still couldn’t be considered talkative, more of a normal amount of speech when in a conversation. You haven’t seen that in a while either, maybe it disappeared when you’d stopped your own blubbering and whining. You didn’t ask questions at all anymore. It was pointless and had little meaning.

He sat in his usual spot.

Perched in the corner of the room, eyes sharply trained on your form as always.

His eyes used to unnerve you, riddle you with anxiety and fear of what he was planning. What he might do. What he will do.

It mattered hardly at all at this point.

You’d senselessly begged once, for it all to stop and for him to just kill you already. That’s what he must’ve had planned in the end, for what else did he want with you? An object to admire?

It seemed mad in it’s own way, that thought. Your questions of something or anything personal went unanswered and occasionally punished with weeks of isolation. It was better not to pry.

Asking for mercy and a faster death only brought a wrath you didn’t know lay inside him down upon you.

It was the first time he became physical with you, touched you more than was the bare minimum of necessity. He was surprisingly warm. Except his touch at that time was anything but the usual gentleness you now realized he used with you. His unforgiving grip on your face as he dragged you to your knees, the absolute agony of having your jaw fractured. The pain was unbearable, and even now left phantom pains radiating down your body. He’d dragged you out the front door, for the first time in what seemed to be forever.

Outside was duller than your mind remembered.

You’d been thrown into a vehicle and taken somewhere new.

You’d never wished to take back words more than you did that day. He’d dragged you to some sort of… torture facility. Chained you in a corner and left you there for hours on end. Nervous and frightened, you waited and waited. When he did return, it wasn’t alone. Someone you’d never met was dragged in, strapped down to a table.

Feitan had never really demonstrated anything so frightening before. He’d been somewhat volatile and brash, but the sadistic side never revealed itself like it did that day.

A day turned into several, and for nearly a week you were made to watch his sessions as he called them. Where he’d laugh like a maniac as he turned living humans into creatures you pitied more than yourself. He’d wipe their blood on you, smile as you trembled and begged for it to stop.

When he finally heeded your pleas, he asked a question that left you numb.

“Still want to die?”

You didn’t want to die anymore, at least not by his hand. He knew no mercy. He had no grievance tearing someone apart and from the inside out. The events that followed spanned longer than you bothered to keep track of anymore. He brought you back to your “home” where you were kept locked away. You had a bed, blankets and pillows, clothes and food, clean water and hygiene products. You’d never appreciated a bed like you did that first night back before. The softness and warmth you felt made tears roll down your cheeks and you had thanked him for returning you. It was the first genuine gratitude you’d ever shown to him.

You glanced up from the TV running a show you barely processed to catch his gaze. Those grey orbs holding emotion you couldn’t name or had never seen. He was always so still, and his porcelain features gave him the feel of a doll. For a moment, you merely held his gaze, feeling oddly calm and panicked all at once. Why you felt panicked didn’t make sense, nor why you’d feel calm in the presence of what seemed to be the Grim Reaper himself. The only movement he made to acknowledge your attention was a slight quirk to his brow. His usually ignored but always open book in his hand closing. His face mostly covered left you little to go off to how he felt. You’d gotten somewhat good at interpreting even the tiniest hint of emotion from him, but currently with your own frazzled feelings, figuring out his wasn’t working.

Your legs were pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you settled into a protected fleshy ball. The blanket on your shoulders helping ground you slightly.

Only a little.

“What?” His voice was raspy, his own lack of use evident.

It didn’t sound annoyed, though you could just be misinterpreting this entire interaction.

It felt odd to speak, your mouth slightly cottony and dry, but the urge in your chest felt strangely compelled to say his name.

“Fei” You’d judged his voice, but your own was just as bad.

His eyes widened slightly, though aside from somewhat visible surprise, you were in the dark on how he’d feel about a nickname. You’d given your captor a nickname long ago, though never voiced it aloud. Feitan… Fei felt less threatening.

Feitan is darkness and fear. Feitan tore your life away from you, terrorized you, imprisoned and controlled nearly every little aspect of your life down to your very diet. Feitan is the infamous torturer of the Phantom Troupe.

Fei… well, in your own mind, Fei had become a fictional sort of character. Fei was gentle, Fei listened when you spoke or rambled, and in your dreams Fei would touch you. You hadn’t felt much of any contact in so long, and the last time had left a physically and psychologically painful memory behind. In your dreams, Fei would hold you, touch and caress, Fei was quiet but powerful. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but nothing happening to you or around you was healthy. The mental sickness and insanity most certainly was tickling around your mind.

You’d tested boundaries early with Feitan.

Screaming, kicking, fighting, escape attempts, refusal to eat or comply… were all met with isolation and revoking of privileges. Asking for death was met with nightmares and aching pain that still bothered you when it was too cold.

You’d tried manipulation and coercion, neither you excelled in though. Feitan may be quiet, and occasionally his grammar is less than exemplary, but he is no fool. All attempts ended in… nothing. He did absolutely nothing. He was like a stone wall, impenetrable. Even now, you knew nothing of his intentions. Your only guess at this point, as out of place and ridiculous as it may sound, is companionship. He likely saw you as a pet of sorts, like one might “rescue” a cat off the street. The treatment you receive is rather similar too. In his eyes, maybe you were just like a cat to him. A weak kitty he plucked off the cold streets and gave a warm home. It used to be a thought which invoked fury, but now…

You wished he’d commit to all acts of a pet owner. This included giving affection. You craved it. Missed it. Needed it. Something. A weird and warbled voice in your mind said you’d even accept the negative attention if it meant he’d put his hands on you again. It’s a suicidal thought, but even as his gaze narrowed, you couldn’t stop your body.

He’s silent as always, as you uncurl from your position you’d taken as your usual way to cope. Holding yourself helped, but it’s be better if someone else did it. He didn’t make any indication your nickname offended him.

Shaking, you stood on weak legs and began a pursuit of something you’d never thought you’d even entertain. He was across the room, and while he was by no means a big man, his presence could be suffocating when up close. Gracelessly and with little tact in your actions, you approached until you could smell him. He always smelled like mint and something metallic. For once, the thought of the underlying scent being blood didn’t bother you. He smelled nice, and while his entire body language was closed off and reserved, he still hadn’t even twitched.

He just kept observing you.

Even as you sank down to your knees in front of where he sat.

Those sharp eyes followed you the entire way. When the realization of what you wanted to do came, you weren’t bombarded with the expected humiliation or shame. There wasn’t guilt or disgust like you used to feel when these feelings would arise.

Maybe it signaled you were too far gone to save anymore.

“Fei” his name left your lips again, and for the first time, his rapt attention felt good. It felt good to have him so focused on you. You watched as his head tilted slightly, his face hidden but you could somewhat fantasize about a soft smile playing on his lips behind the fabric of his collar. His favorite jacket always a staple in his clothing collection.

“What?” The way he asked proved he wasn’t revolted at your proximity. He didn’t seem to be asking what you were doing, but rather why you called his name.

“Touch me?” Though you’d phrased it like a question, it bordered precariously on being a demand. You probably looked ridiculous, kneeling at his feet and staring up at him like a sick puppy looking for even the smallest amount of attention. You should be avoiding him, trying to get away, doing anything but this. The only thing you felt though was fear of rejection. That he’d cackle like he does on the phone occasionally, with someone named Shalnark or Phinks, or like he did when he removed the hands of an artist and found humor in the irony. He didn’t answer immediately like he normally would with a direct question. This couldn’t possibly be considered a personal question that he enjoys avoiding, it has only to do with you.

“Please…” you sounded pathetic, even to yourself. The way your bottom lip pouted out and wobbled, the way your eyes watered a little as if you’d cry at any moment, the way you trembled. You didn’t want to grab onto his pant leg, still mindful that a kick from him could easily be your undoing. You’d have to wait till given permission. A pet is what he wants, right?

You could finally be hitting that special point of breaking.

This could be another delusion you’d conjured up and you’re moments away from a lot of pain or isolation again. It’s impossible to tell. No power rested in your hands, and that small realization had tears rolling down your cheeks as you looked at the man who’d reduced you to this mess.

Begging him for measly scraps of what should be your right. Humans needed the physical contact for their health, and while he was clearly the devil, you needed it. Needed him. Needed anything.

“Fei please… I’ll be good, whatever you want, please… I need- hck!” Your sobs were cut short as your body moved faster than your mind could process. You’d nearly bitten into your tongue as you choked for breath, unable to fully comprehend exactly what happened.

The leggings and sweater you wore weren’t warm at all to you. Even blankets seemed to have a chill that seeped through them. Right now though, warmth was creeping through your clothes as mint and copper flooded your senses. He’d pulled you into his lap. The realization was shocking, but the next thought was thrown away when thin strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“Oh” words died on your lips as a sensation you couldn’t name overcame you. You’d never realized how stiff you were until your body began to relax. Fully relax. “Oh…” it came out breathy and nearly excited, as you foolishly wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in the crook of it.

This was insanity.

He was all muscle unsurprisingly, but it didn’t deter you from trying to mold yourself to him. Your much softer figure held in his arms so gently it made a new wave of tears threaten to spill for all new reasons. You straddled him, front flush against his own, as you struggled to accept that you were being held right now.

“This?” His voice so close to your ear had a strange tingling sensation move from your neck down your spine. The shiver didn’t go unnoticed, as his hold tightened and pressed you further against him. It wasn’t necessarily the most pleasant way to be held, but it was many times better than nothing. You nodded against him, mumbling out a soft good as you basked in a moment of joy you hadn’t experienced in what seemed like forever. It felt good to be held.

It felt even better when his hand moved and brushed through your hair. His touch light and careful, and you could imagine how he was noting every little detail of your reactions. The shivers and little sighs you released as he continued to just pet, touch, and hold you.

For once, you dreaded him stopping.

Even as your eyes grew heavy and body went limp in his arms, you dreaded when this would end. If you could just figure a way to keep him like this, you could envision your life being bearable.

“Fei” you didn’t make any effort to move.

“Hmm” his chest vibrated a little with his hum.

“Can I sleep with you?” It didn’t take a genius to realize your question caused him to tense. His muscles tightening up and panic seeping into your system as you worry this took it too far. You both slept separately unless absolutely necessary, something you used to be grateful for and now hated. It was always freezing when you slept, no matter how warm it actually was.

You might’ve ruined his grace, overstepped if anything, but you needed to stay close to him physically. It wasn’t a want anymore but a necessity.

“Yes” his word both shocked and elated you, and with a few more gentle pats in his arms, you were asleep.

Your cunt throbbed and ached, your lower belly pulled tight inside like a string about to snap. You tried closing your legs, whining as the hot wet sensation continued despite the light struggle you began to put up. It felt good, whatever dream you were having, even as the scent of mint and soap surrounded you.

Small whimpers and gasps became heavy panting as you felt raw heavy pleasure blossom in your core. Something prodded your entrance, wiggling bit by bit till you were penetrated and stretched on something long and hard. It moved and rubbed inside you. The warm pressure on your clit only pulling you further.

It was heaven, even as a slight burn inside had you back to whining and arching your back as your cunt stretched to allow something else inside. Fingers?

The thought was gone as the pleasure radiated throughout your whole body.

It wouldn’t be the first wet dream you’d had, but it was the most realistic. The hot breath on your sensitive clit and twitching insides felt real, and the pleasure was so crisp. Your hands curled into the sheets, struggling between sleep and the impending orgasm threatening to take you.

Your eyes popped open as you came, body twisting as a sharp moan punctuated the air.

You were awake and finally realizing this wasn’t a delusion or dream. Someone was lapping at your cunt, your thighs held open and pinned by two pale hands. The sensitivity and slight bewilderment of the situation had you struggling to form a coherent thought.

“Fei-Feitan…?” If there was one thing you knew with perfect certainty, it was that he’d never leave you alone long enough for someone to find you and do this. It couldn’t be anyone else. Though the fact he was doing this was even more incomprehensible. He seemed so disgusted by touch, so detached from human emotions, it really never occurred to you that he’d have normal human urges. He was still lapping at your cunt, even as your eyes locked with his own, even darker in the barely lit room you realized was his own. You were in his bed, with his head buried between your legs, and his eyes locked on you.

“Fei!” A weaker orgasm than the first was torn from you as you came again, sensitivity skyrocketing when he still continued to lick and suck on your clit. The room was spinning slightly, and your naked body began to cool a little as you sweat. He’d stripped you. He must’ve, but things weren’t really connecting in your mind as white hot pleasure was turning mildly painful.

“Too much!” You gasped and you had to force your hands to stay tangled in the sheet to not touch him. Your eyes watered and you made a pitiful sight with your darkening cheeks and open panting mouth. As your back arched to avoid his mouth, a sharp slap to your outer thigh had you yelping in pain.

His eyes narrowed, and it wasn’t hard to see he became annoyed with your squirming.

“Shut up.” His tone was low, no room for arguing or protest as you bit your lip to do as you were told. Trembling under him as he raised up to stare down at you between your spread legs. He looked gorgeous, something you hated to admit. His dark hair mildly tussled and pale skin a little flushed, his signature jacket gone. This wasn’t the first you’d seen his naked chest, but it was certainly a rare occasion. His pants were still on but unbuttoned. His lips were the most sinful aspect, still glossy from your release. It was agonizing to be silent.

You should cry and beg for him to stop.

Instead you found your legs spreading just a bit wider as you looked up at him like he was your personal deity.

Debauched.

His slow and condescending smirk only made your breathing harder, chest tightening with anticipation and lust. He snorted, hand moving to spread your cunt open as he spit on it. You were panting now, barely following his order to stay quiet. It was difficult when you wanted to beg, for more, for him, to be touched.

“This what you wanted? Whore.” His crude words didn’t make this any less arousing, especially as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock free. He was larger than you’d have ever expected, though it hardly mattered as he lined himself up and began pushing into your unused hole. Despite the wetness and prep, it was slightly painful as he filled you. The heaviness inside coupled with the burn was delicious as your hips moved to take more of him, deeper. You couldn’t help the moan, the way your body shook and hands finally moved to touch him.

He was fast in securing both your wrists in one hand to pin above your head, his hips finally kissing the back of your thighs. You felt him twitch inside you, and it drove you wild.

“Please Fei, oh-!” His hand came down on your thigh again, before he pulled his hips back and slammed into you. Your head goes back as you arch into him and moan louder, as he begins a brutal pace that has your chest moving in rhythm with his thrusts. His tip kissing your cervix has you unwinding into a submissive mess of whining and pleas. You didn’t even know what you were begging for.

You either annoyed or aroused him further when he sneered and used his free hand to grip your jaw, thankfully not roughly as it ached nonetheless, forcing you to open wide before spitting into your mouth. He laughed when you clenched down harder, feeling the coil in your stomach tightening again as the pleasure increased.

“Pretty slut likes being my bitch.” He hardly seemed out of breath despite how hard you were panting. You felt a bit unfair at how unfazed he seemed, but similarly proud at how he gazed down at you. Like you made him pleased. His gaze wasn’t sharp, even bordering on warm despite how roughly he was fucking into you. All you could do was moan his name and beg.

Like a good little pet.

You could feel your orgasm coming again, and you’d meant to tell him, but his lips against yours shocked you silly. You didn’t even bother closing your mouth, Feitan easily slipping his tongue inside and kissing you so sensually it had you coming on his cock. You could only whine into his mouth as his speed picked up and you became overwhelmed.

He pulled away as a string of saliva connected you two for a moment before breaking. He licked his lips before focusing on where the two of you were joined. Watching his cock disappear in your sopping wet little cunt. It was filthy and erotic.

“Pathetic” his words were cruel but he looked beyond pleased as he looked at your fucked out expression. Unable to even form words as he continued to bully your poor pussy. It was laughable to him, how sweet you are now, how obedient and submissive you’ve finally become. All that fight and control gone, and in its place you lay now.

He’d never tell you out loud how perfect you are. How absolutely precious he finds your attempts to run away from all the pleasure he’s giving you.

His training has been worth while, making you everything he wants and more. Though he’d hated the power you held over him, having you now, moaning as he drills your cunt and begging for more, takes away the shame. You were his weren’t you? Then anything he wanted to do was fine, it wasn’t shameful to fuck his toy. Especially when she whined and arched her back up to take him in even deeper, when she cried and came again around him.

Feitan saw you as much more than a measly pet. Those were replaceable. No, you were just his, whatever he wants you to be, but still his. That’s why when he wraps his hand around your pretty neck and squeezes, he’s beyond thrilled at how you relax. You throw caution to the wind and give him everything. He’s not cutting off oxygen, but enough blood flow and air to keep you light headed and disoriented.

“Who do you belong to?” He knows you can hardly tell up from down right now. He knows how good he’s fucking you. Reducing you to this beautiful mess of feeling only. He’s still him though, and it brings him only pleasure to add in another few painful smacks to your bruising thighs. “Answer slut” he asks again, being thrown for a power trip as you choke out, “You!” to him.

His balls tightening signal he’s close, and the thought alone is enough to amuse him.

“Going to cum inside.” His words don’t register immediately to you, he can tell, but it seems all reality isn’t gone from you when your eyes widen.

“I-I- pregnant! I’ll get-“ he cuts you off with a chuckle, hand squeezing your throat enough to shut you up as he savors the sounds of wet squelching echoing in tune with his thrusts.

“My personal cock sleeve doesn’t get to talk.” The struggle you put up is worthless, but entertaining as he really does cum inside you, a soft grunt his only indication of release and overwhelming pleasure. Emptying himself inside and filling you with him. Marking you, painting you inside, signally you belong to him in every way now.

You lay exhausted and sore in his bed, cold as the various liquids dry on your skin and Feitan leaves.

Where he goes it doesn’t matter. You let yourself lay for a little longer before deciding it’s best not to anger him by staying in his space. You move to sit up, wincing as your intimate areas ache, but pushing forward nonetheless to get cleaned up and change his sheets and any mess left behind.

You hate the hollow ache in your chest the most. You look at your thighs to see his cum leaking out of you, and a sliver of dread echoes in your mind that you truly could become pregnant. The possibilities too much for you to handle right now, as you shakily slide off the bed to stand on wobbly legs. He could be back any moment, and it’s best you get to work early. You work on removing the sheets, just as the bedroom door opens to reveal a fresh Feitan, his signature jacket in place as he holds a glass of water.

“What are you doing?” His question is asked in a slightly lower tone that usual, and you quickly freeze in place.

“I-I’m cleaning up…?” You don’t mean to sound hesitant, but this situation is new and will require months of careful inquisition to avoid punishment under his hand. You knew better than to continue any task without his go ahead though.

You stand in silence as he observes you with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Come here” his order is curt, and while it terrifies you, you are quick to stumble over to him despite still being naked and filthy. You hate how badly you must look, barely able to walk while he is up and about his usual day as if nothing even happened. To him maybe nothing did happen, this being just the same as making a sandwich, and you wished the thought didn’t hurt. Maybe this would just be a new pain to live with, and the sooner you accepted that, the better your pathetic existence would be.

You stand just before him, fingers twisting around each other as you stay with your head bowed to stare at his feet while you concentrated on staying upright despite how difficult it felt for your hips and legs to support you.

“Not hard enough?” His words confused you, as you peaked up beneath your lashes to look at him curiously.

“I-I don’t understand…”

“Didn’t fuck you hard enough?” You froze in shock and slight fear, because what did that mean? He fucked you too hard in your personal opinion, and your poor slit agreed.

“Y-you did though…?” You were unsure of what was happening, his gaze not giving anything away.

“Get back on the bed. I didn’t say I was done with you.” Your eyes widened, taking a moment too long to register what he said before his foot took a step closer to you and you scrambled back onto the sheet-less bed in a panic. He paused, observing you again, before tilting his head.

“Next time I’m done with you, don’t move” he’s undoing his pants again, and moving towards you.

“I’ll fuck you good this time.” His words menacing and mean, and you’re left with little wiggle room as he closes in.

It’s his job after all to clean you up and piece you back together, and if you can fix yourself when he’s done, he clearly didn’t a good job the first round.

1K notes · View notes

pd1nne · 7 days

Text

I’m very normal about Shane and also SDV.

((I really wanted to see what he does with the littles while the farmer is outside adventuring. This is just my headcanon))

((MARNIE SEW A BLUE CHICKEN PLUSHIE WHEN SHANE GOT HIS FIRST KID I JUST KNOW THAT HAPPENED))

369 notes · View notes

pd1nne · 7 days

Photo

hottest man alive

4K notes · View notes

pd1nne · 8 days

Text

"valley reverie" - sebastian

summary: the timeline of sebastian and the farmer’s relationship based on canon dialogue

pairing: sdv sebastian x farmer

word count: 2.5K

a/n: this may be my magnum opus

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains when Sebastian emerged from the house for the first—and only—time that day.

He shot a glance to his mother and Demetrius, who were standing at the edge of their property, looking over the valley bathed in golden light. His mother sent a small smile back, followed by a pointed disappointed look at the carton of cigarettes held loosely in his glance. Demetruis didn’t acknowledge his existence.

Sebastian knew it was a nasty habit, but he spent most of his life with not much thought to the future—he was surprised he made it this far. Maybe his life would have been different if he had planned better; if he had considered for a moment that there was such a thing as life past sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty-one. He supposed he should start to consider a life past twenty-four, but quickly dropped the thought as he placed the cigarette between his lips and continued his stroll to the lake.

He saw it then, as his lighter sparked to life and helped the cigarette take eleven minutes off his.

Someone was sitting in his spot. A humanoid blob of denim focused intently on the bobber floating in the water.

He hesitated, then decided to keep moving—his trajectory now locked in past the stranger and across the rickety planks of wood to the smaller islands in the middle of the lake. His mother had been saying for years that she needed to build something more structurally sound, but had yet to get around to it.

As he got closer, he took in more of the scene. There was a muddy bucket next to the stranger, and he noticed a couple slimy carp flopping around inside. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t have enough experience to catch the tricker creatures in the lake.

Just as he was about to slip past toward solitude, he locked eyes with the stranger. Their bored expression quickly turned to worry.

“Sorry, am I in your spot? Robin said it was okay for me to fish here.”

Recognition sparked in his brain—his mother had told him about the new resident of Pelican Town. The words she had used to describe them flashed behind his eyes: sweet, a little lost, cute. That last one was sent his way with an exaggerated wink and met with a scoff from him.

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”

The farmer didn’t respond, just looked on waiting for an answer to their question. Sebastian didn’t gratify them with a response, instead looking across the lake at the tree line and abandoned quarry.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

The farmer scrunched up their mouth slightly, beginning to reel in their line. There was nothing but a limp worm dangling from the hook. Sebastian took note of the grieving look flashing on their face before it was gone in a blink.

“Better than where I was.”

Sebastian didn’t bother responding as the farmer heaved up the bucket—they were a lot stronger than they looked—and walked away without another word.

Robin smiled at the farmer with a wave and shouted goodnight before sending another disapproving look to her son.

_________________________________________

Sebastian heaved open the door of the house, exhausted from band practice. Sam was his best friend, and he enjoyed spending time with him more than he would admit, but the newest addition to the band was definitely a hindrance.

He didn’t dislike Abigail, and he couldn’t deny that she was a talented drummer, but he had been hoping for years that her little crush on him would fade away. He could only take so much of puppy dog eyes and over exaggerated laughter at his quips that definitely aren’t that funny.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts on how to shake off the purple-haired girl—more importantly, how to shake her off without actual confrontation—that he didn’t notice the farmer leaning against the shop counter until their voice pierced through. His mother was nowhere to be seen, so they had to have been talking to him.

“What? I didn't hear you...I'm busy thinking about something. What do you want?”

The farmer narrowed their eyes at him, leveling him with a glare. “You know, I get that you’d rather be listening to My Chemical Romance and jerking off to Nietzsche than interacting with a human being, but you really need to work on your people skills.”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He expected avoidance from the farmer, based on their first meeting and subsequent run-ins where they gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to acting like he didn’t exist.

He realized that the farmer wasn’t as timid and one-dimensional as he let himself think.

The moment was saved by Robin entering the shop room and dropping a workbench on the floor with a heavy thud. “You’ll make better use of this than I have lately—it’s pretty old,” she looked up from the dusty bench, noticing her son frozen in the doorway, “oh, hi Sebby.”

“Sebby?” the farmer questioned with a smirk.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, brushing past his mother to get to his lair.

“Sorry about him,” he heard his mother as he descended the stairs.

“It’s fine,” the farmer laughed, “he’s cool.”

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _________________________________________

Sebastian looked down at the frozen tear in his hand with a neutral expression on his face, though his heart was quickening its pace.

“Gunther told me it’s fabled to be the frozen tears of a yeti.”

He met the farmer’s grin with one of his own, “I really love this. How did you know?”

They shrugged, “Seemed like some emo shit you’d be into.”

A breathy laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Well…thanks.”

“No prob. I’ll keep an eye out for more when I’m in the mines.”

“The mines?,” his brow furrowed, “how far down did you go?”

“Not super deep, I think I stopped at sixty since it was getting late.”

Sebastian gaped at the farmer—who he now realized he really misjudged—as they shouldered their backpack and turned toward the door.

“Oh,” they stopped just shy of the threshold, “your code is wrong, by the way. Third line down.”

He looked to the screen, baffled, seeing that there was, in fact, a mistake in his code.

He began to ask the farmer how they knew that, but they were gone. _________________________________________

The sun was setting on the valley, and Sebastian found himself sitting by the lake’s edge with the farmer, who was reeling in sturgeon and bass with ease.

“I’m sure the city’s different for other people, but it was corporate hell for me,” the farmer spoke softly as they baited their hook—it was different than any bait he had ever seen, and the farmer had informed him that the wild man living behind their house had taught them the recipe.

Sebastian hummed, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?” the farmer teased him, flicking water at his face.

He blew a puff of smoke in their face.

The farmer coughed, then began to laugh as they fanned the smoke out of their face, “asshole.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning back on the palms of his hands and gazing across the water.

They sat in comfortable silence as the farmer cast out their line and half-heartedly focused on the bobber—they didn’t really need it anymore, but liked the safety net.

“You and Sam are probably my only friends in this town.” Sebastian broke the silence, but continued looking straight ahead.

“Well I am very likable.”

Sebastian knocked their shoulders together with a scoff.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” _________________________________________

Sebastian was indifferent—and sometimes loathful—toward most events held in their little town, but tonight was an exception. It was hard to not be in awe of the midnight jellies, and he was excited for the farmer to see them for the first time.

They were perched at the edge of the dock, along with Sam and Abigail, their feet dangling inches above the water.

It was a lot colder than expected, and the farmer was bundled in his black jacket. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the sad glances Abigail was sending their way.

The farmer looked content, and Sebastian recalled something they told him at the beginning of the season—the used to be terrified of the ocean before moving to the valley.

He nudged their shoulder with his own. It didn’t take much effort—they were sitting a lot closer than he realized. A light blush dusted his cheekbones.

“I thought I saw something moving in there…” he pointed to the void of the ocean and leaned closer to their ear, whispering, “something big, something dark.”

The farmer’s eyes widened as they looked across the vast darkness before they narrowed and turned to him.

“Just trying to scare you...” Sebastian laughed.

The farmer smiled, knocking their knee against his, muttering an all too familiar “asshole.”

It wasn’t too long before Lewis sent out the first lantern, and the water surrounding the docks was filled with glowing jellyfish.

“It’s beautiful,” the farmer breathed out as their head landed on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” his eyes landed on a glowing green jelly before looking down at the farmer, “it is.” _________________________________________

Sebastian never saw the farm in its full glory—before the farmer’s grandfather grew old and passed away—but he had been there plenty of times when it was overgrown and abandoned.

He had told the farmer this as they sat on the newly installed swinging bench on their porch. They joked that they would be suing him for trespassing, since it was technically their property at the time, even if they hadn’t known it.

It was a chilly fall day, but the farmer had made a pot of coffee to keep them warm.

“I thought this was your busy season,” Sebastian lit up a cigarette and moved the ashtray closer to where he sat. It was a newer addition to the farmer’s decor. He thought about the prideful look on their face as they held it up and told him that Leah let them use her pottery wheel. It was painted with little creatures that looked like the much happier cousins of the slimes living in the caves.

The farmer hummed, holding their mug close to their face, but not taking a sip, “Yeah…a lot busier than I thought it would be, actually.”

He grinned at them, “so, you’re slacking today, huh?”

The farmer laughed.

“I’d rather hang out with your sorry ass than work.” Despite the insult, the farmer’s tone was soft and earnest. Sebastian felt his cheeks heat up.

“Could you picture me living on a farm? It seems ridiculous, but I have been thinking about it lately.”

“If I could do it, then so could you,” the farmer linked their pinky with his, “it’s a lot more freeing than you’d think.” _________________________________________

Boxes filled with Sebastian’s things lined the walls of the farmhouse, but Sebastian and the farmer lay in bed, choosing to ignore them.

They had all the time in the world.

The farmer was twirling the pendant dangling from Sebastian’s neck, “there’s steam coming out of your ears, Seb,” the farmer giggled and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows with their finger.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Sebastian turned his attention from the ceiling to the farmer, “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

A beat.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

The farmer laughed, “Well I would hope so,” they tugged gently on the pendant, pulling him closer, “because you’re stuck with me.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer had joined his family for dinner, and his mother had shooed them away with one hand as she cooed at the bundle held tightly in her other arm.

The valley was coming to life, but the ghost of a winter chill was in the air. They settled down by the lake despite the cold. It was no longer his spot, but theirs.

The farmer was skipping stones across the lake when he grumbled about how being in that spot made him want a smoke.

“No one’s stopping you,” the farmer laughed.

“I am.”

The farmer still held a loose smile as they raised their eyebrows at him, “oh?”

“I'm trying my best to quit smoking now that we're married…” He avoided their gaze and brushed some mud on the palm of his hand onto his jeans, “I don't wanna die on you. It's a bad habit. I want to have a future together.”

A baby cried in the distance. Sebastian and the farmer smiled at each other. _________________________________________

The farmer was surprised to find Sebastian’s side of the bed empty when they woke up. It wasn’t a rare occasion, as they usually found Sebastian in the kitchen after a restless sleep, but he was nowhere to be found.

They couldn’t help but worry a little bit as they pulled on their boots and opened the screen door. They paused out of instinct to let the dog run out before them only to realize that the dog wasn’t hot on their heels like usual.

They had only gotten two steps onto the porch before a mass of fur and slobber crashed into their legs.

“Oh hello baby,” they cooed down at the dog as it rolled onto its back, breathing heavily out of excitement, “good morning stink.”

“Good morning to you too.”

The farmer was so caught up in giving the dog attention that they hadn’t noticed Sebastian leaning against the porch railing.

They straightened from their crouch, smiling at him as the dog whined from the loss of affection.

“I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went ahead and fed the animals,” he pushed off the railing and took a few steps forward to fix a rogue piece of the farmer’s hair, “one less thing for you to do.”

“Thanks, Seb,” the farmer said softly, suddenly bashful, “I’m going to check on the pumpkins. Thought I could make some soup tonight if any of them are ripe.”

They took a few steps off the porch, “feel like being a country boy today? Or did you get your fix?”

He smiled, leaning his forearms against the railing, “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer found themselves sitting on the porch swing once again. It was a mild summer evening, and he was looking on as a toddler played with the dog in the yard.

He tore his attention away from the rowdy scene in front of him to look at the farmer, who was curled up at his side reading a book. He felt his heart swell.

“This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

The farmer looked up from the book in their lap, smiling.

“I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

518 notes · View notes

pd1nne · 9 days

Text

stardew valley bachelor beta portraits vs final portraits!!!

prints: here and here

25K notes · View notes

pd1nne · 9 days

Text

Some ideas/minor preview for my Puppy!Sam x Puppy! Reader x Sebastian Fic 👉👈

Still working on the direction of it~

Puppy!Sam whimpering and dumbly scenting over your neck, squirmy and eager - mounting on your pussy and jutting his hips like a dumb mut. His thick cock bullies into your soppy puppy cunt, already drooling pretty slick down your thighs.

Puppy!Sam fucking himself far too eagerly, aching red cock slipping out of your puppy pussy. Sammy didn’t care, dumbly sliding his cock through the pretty, slick folds of your cunny, forcing the most obnoxious, obscene guttural moans out of his throat. He ignores your whines, your keening hips making an attempt to catch on to him, too lost and dazed in his own head, excited at the mere premise of even touching you. His fat puppy tip bullies into your little clit, bumping over and over, sliding hot slick and pebbly pearlescent globs of pre, making a sticky mess all over himself.

Puppy!Sam with such a lacking technique that Sebastian has to grab him by the scruff and pull him away, force Sammy to sit and stay. Sebastian will train poor Sam the right way to fuck a pretty Puppy cunt.

Smth smth I'm embarrassed - just one scene I have in mind- will 10000% be written in a normal format and probably stretched out into many words ehe

276 notes · View notes

pd1nne · 9 days

Text

day 30, corruption

shane (stardew valley) x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, possessive!shane, no aftercare, no preparation, public sex, one instance of dirty talk, dubcon kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

The first time he saw you was when you entered the Stardrop Saloon. You were prettier than anything he’d ever seen before and so full of life. He watched as you bounced between the tables, greeting the various patrons as you made your way to the bar.

Shane huddled over his beer, watching you out of the corner of his eye. You interacted with everyone like you’d lived here for years. It wasn’t fair.

You sidled up next to him as you waited for your drink. You introduced yourself and began chattering away. You leaned on the bar, putting your chest on display for the entirety of Pelican Town.

“I don’t know you. Why are you talking to me?”

The words slipped out of his lips before he could catch them. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, but a small part of him enjoyed seeing the way you tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth, and you straightened at his comment.

As the days passed, he began to feel a deep desire to be closer to you. You were good and you were pure. Everything he wasn’t. A sick part of him wanted to ruin you, to see you come apart at his hands.

You always made an effort to stop and chat with him while he walked to the Joja Mart in the morning. You were always there, waiting for him as he exited Marnie’s house. He wondered if you had memorized his routine or if it was a coincidence every time.

Slowly, he acted less like an asshole and you warmed up to him. His head began to perk up at the sound of the doors to Joja Mart opening, just hoping to catch sight of you. This increased as spring turned into summer and you’d show up in clothes that left little to the imagination. He dreamt of you every night, skimpy clothes discarded as you fell apart on his cock. Infatuation quickly turned into an obsession.

It was Friday night at the saloon, which meant everyone in the valley was there. Shane kept to his corner, awaiting your arrival. He watched the clock as the seconds ticked by and you failed to make an appearance.

Eventually, you arrived with Sebastian at your side, a laugh gracing your lips. Shane felt the burn of jealousy consume him, and he scowled into his drink. He was patient enough to wait until you made your way over to him, swaying a little from the drinks you’d downed earlier. He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the saloon. He was going to make sure he was the only thing you needed. Not Sebastian, not Sam, just him.

He shoved you against the wall of the saloon, too desperate to take you home and fuck you properly. His lips crashed against yours, and he held you with a rough grip on your jaw. You moaned against his lips as you pawed at his shoulders. He reached a hand down to slide under that pretty little dress of yours that drove him crazy. His dreams didn’t do the feeling of your skin under his fingertips any justice.

He slid a finger over your clothed core, eliciting a small whine from you. He wondered if you’d ever been touched like this; his cock twitched at the thought of being your first. A pretty thing like you must’ve had all sorts of people fawning over you.

He pulled away to catch his breath, shoved his face in the crook of your neck, and pressed open-mouthed kisses there. Your skin tasted almost as heavenly as it felt, and he groaned. He pushed your panties to the side and drug a finger through your folds, relishing how wet you already were.

His movements were hurried as he removed his hand from your jaw to reach down and free his cock from his jeans. He was already painfully hard, desperate to see you absolutely ruined as you came around his cock. He slid his cock through your folds, gathering your slick.

He lifted your thigh, giving him more access to that pretty pussy of yours. Slowly, he inched his way inside of you, and you clawed at his back as he did. You hissed at the intrusion, and he wished he would’ve had more time to prep you properly. He pressed a soothing kiss against your temple as he bottomed out. Your walls fluttered around him as you adjusted to him, and he almost came there and then.

He pulled out of you before ramming himself back in, earning a high-pitched mewl from you. He clamped a hand over your mouth as he rutted into you. His free hand drifted up to knead your breasts, your nipples hardening under his touch and showing through the thin fabric of your dress.

He reached a hand down to draw quick circles around your clit as he felt the familiar heat building in his abdomen. He wasn’t going to last long with you squeezing him just right and making those desperate noises that had his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

He hoped Sebastian could hear them from inside the saloon. He wanted to make sure everyone in this goddamn town knew you were his. The thought had him thrusting harder into you, each drag of his cock releasing a breathy moan against his hand.

You gripped his bicep as you clenched around him, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“C’mon, baby. Make a mess around my cock,” he begged, words slurring together as he neared his climax.

You rutted against him and clenched his cock as you came. You whined against his hand and he loved the way your face scrunched up as he jutted into you, riding out your high.

With one final drag of his hips, he was coming in you, marking you as his own. He relished the way his seed painted your walls. Slowly, the twitching of his cock stilled and he pulled out of you. He groaned as he watched his cum drip out of you and down your thighs.

His movements were hurried as he tucked himself back into his shorts, and made his way back into the saloon. He hoped you’d come crawling back to him. He hoped you’d stay. You had to.

494 notes · View notes