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#just felt like drawing bears
puhpandas · 2 years
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they are beary best friends
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zaiciart · 4 months
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Heard, chef.
(I promise I can draw good, chose violence today)
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heathenoushound · 1 year
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sometimes I just really don’t feel like drawing humans
Kate’s tattoos bc I wasn’t about to draw all dat 😒
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pardus-pawprints · 2 years
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pov: you're about to be mauled by some stinky white thing
Based on a scene from Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse
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yaniasogames · 1 year
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may make a character for ppl to imagine me as as opposed to uploading pics of myself anymore. hm
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bugbearsims · 1 year
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sona reveal
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conderkyl · 4 months
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Big dumb heart
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seapasture · 8 months
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I wish I could have consistent emotional responses to things but I guess the shame is always there so that's one thing
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lskisms · 11 months
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also thank god people are liking the syd fic i was worried nobody was reading it like ...
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miserableworm · 14 days
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Aphrodisiac!
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★ sypnosis - giving him an aphrodisiac wasn't your best idea...
★ tags - childe x fem!reader, alhaitham x fem!reader, wriothesley x fem!reader, smut (mdni), aphrodisiac, established relationship, oral receiving, mentions of overstimulation, handcuffs, rough sex
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CHILDE
Despite being under the influence of an aphrodisiac that would normally drive him to pleasure himself, something about you made him want nothing more than to please you instead.
"God you drive me insane..."
Your legs were spread wide open before him, invitingly wet and ready for his touch. He could feel your heat radiating off your body as he gazed at your dripping pussy; it was almost too much for him to bear!
But instead of diving right in like any normal man might do under these circumstances, When held back... teasingly soaking up every drop of moisture with his tongue while watching you squirm beneath him helplessly.
"Stop teasing me.." you whined
His hot breath fanned across your sensitive skin - enough to make it tingle but not quite enough stimulation yet... His hands gripped tightly onto your thighs as if locking them down so that no one else could come between them during this intimate moment shared only by the two of you...
And then finally – after what felt like an eternity – those delicious lips parted once more and plunged deep into the heart-shaped depths below…
"You taste so fucking good.."
It didn't take long before you had your first orgasm. "Aw my pretty baby is already cumming?"
"Oh but we're not done yet... you can take it, right?" He purred huskily against wet flesh before diving back in again without waiting for an answer.
He's completely pussy drunk.
ALHAITHAM
As Alhaitham's normally stoic demeanor began to slip away under the influence of an aphrodisiac, he found himself unable to resist your advances. Your every touch sent shivers down his spine and ignited a fire within him that he couldn't control.
You were like a siren calling to him, drawing him closer with each passing moment. He could feel the heat emanating from your body as you pressed yourself against him – it was intoxicating!
"Need you so bad..."
Despite his initial hesitation, Alhaitham gave in to his desires and took you roughly against the wall behind you... His hands gripped tightly onto your hips while he thrust deep inside of you over and over again... His breathing became labored as sweat dripped down both of your bodies.
"w-wait.. slow down.. I can't.. ah!"
"One more," he panted between kisses along your neckline before plunging deeper still into the depths below... "I know you can take more.." With each word spoken by this usually reserved man came another thrust from his hips - faster now than ever before.
You and Alhaitham were fully aware that 'one more' is just a lie...
WRIOTHESLEY
Wriothesley was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was with an air of command that left no room for argument. As the aphrodisiac took hold and his normally stoic demeanor began to slip away, so too did any semblance of restraint.
He grabbed you roughly by the wrists and pulled you closer - handcuffs clinking softly as they secured your hands behind your back. His lips crashed down onto yours in a fierce kiss that left no doubt as to who was in charge here tonight...
His hands roamed freely over every inch of exposed skin while his hips ground against yours – teasingly close yet never quite connecting fully until finally... With one powerful thrust forward, Wriothesley buried himself deep inside of you
"you feel me in you?" he pressed down onto the bulge on your stomach. "t-too much ngh.."
"isn't this what you wanted? no turning back now. You're mine tonight," Wriothesley growled into your ear as he roughly pulled you closer by the wrists. "And I'm going to make sure you remember it."
His rough hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you without mercy or hesitation...
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shegetsburned · 9 days
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❝ a man of honor ❞ w. kento nanami 𝜗𝜚.
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.nsfw.
• — dearest reader. this author finds herself bearing the most curious of news, for it isn’t without surprise that the viscount nanami has caused ruckus amongst the young ladies of the ton, upon his arrival. gracing us with his presence, he has not yet announced himself eligible for this social season and, i believe, does not intend to do so. but doesn’t love find itself in the most peculiar of places when one least expects it? • — a/n. let’s just say that bridgerton has, yet again, a hold on me, also, i am in no way an historian nor a perfect writer but i do hope y’all can enjoy this different little piece.
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˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who, despite himself, had found the need to return to london for a matter of affair and is set on departing as unbothered by the social season as he was when he first arrived.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who has never taken his social standing lightly and knows he’ll be the object of many desires considering his status as a seven and twenty years old unmarried man. described as a man of honour, suited for the finest lady, but buried in his work and duties.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who attends most balls, making quick appearances here and there and avoiding hungry mamas at all costs, partially hiding in the gardens or engaging in business conversations with other suitors, always eager to return to his chamber. that was until he found the most beautiful excuse to not participate in any courting competition and declare himself ineligible to the ton. you.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who had found you hiding in the very same place he was, that night. a very debutante, who didn’t feel yet a need to marry. you had approached him in need of advice, not in need of a husband. you knew who he was but had no intention nor expectation for any kind of courteous exchange. you just wanted to know how he was successfully avoiding many of his greatest admirers without breaking a sweat.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who did not give much thought to the both of you talking at first, it was easy and the conversation never felt forced. you did feel like a breath of fresh air. you had attracted attention amongst the men of ton quite easily with your gorgeous smile and attentive gaze, which kento had immediately noticed but when you felt like he was really listening to the words you uttered, you became quite acquainted to the viscount’s presence.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami whom you had invited for dinner with your family and was confirmed to be quite the gentleman everyone said he was. well, at least, that’s how he appeared before your family. from across the table, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. the way you parted your lips to eat or placed your mouth so carefully around the gorgeous glass to drink hypnotized him. your warm smile and laughter were music to his ears, therefore most of his attention was directed towards you.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami whose thoughts becomes dreams in a matter of weeks. your body draws itself in his head. every time you graze his shoulder with yours, his heart flutters. he’s almost ashamed to admit that he’d rather sleep than awaken alone in his bed when he’s been having the most indecent dreams about the gorgeous debutante he’s unable to have. your words resonate in his sleep until they become pleads and moans he wishes to hear.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who despite his title, his honor and even his words, became aware of the fact that he wanted much more than being friends with you. although he didn’t want to burden you with his occupied life, he couldn’t help but boil when one curious man came to your encounter, asking for a dance. you weren’t a fool and quickly noticed the viscount’s name written all over your dancing card moments later. you did wonder how it would look to the eyes of everyone else, but he surely didn’t care.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who has privatized your company not only by dancing with you all night during the ball but also by inviting you to his estate in london. it wasn’t long before you realized how occupied he was but also how he tried his best to escape your chaperone and have you all to himself in his bureau.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who loathes the thought of not having you close to him. he had offered no ring nor promises, yet here he was, teaching everything your mama hadn’t. taking away every ounce of purity you once displayed to every other eligible suitor with his careful hands. you could still feel his lips along your neck and his hold around your waist hours after the act.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who truly believes he is a man of honour, even with your legs parted for his hand to explore your most sensitive places with your naked back against the walls of the library of his estate. the sound you make, he wished no other men to hear when it graced his ears, hurrying his movements and developing the most intense of needs. he trailed your back ever so gently to detach and remove your gown with such delicacy it made your whole body shudder.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who, despite engaging in such shameful activities, roams around you, just as before. having eyes only for you and ignoring every little distraction that came his way. the rest of the ton surely did wonder how the most anticipated pairing of the season will officially come to be. many questions lingers in one’s mind when two individuals such as yourselves spend so much time together. had he purposely made you wait to attract the other suitors’ attention and find you as desirable as he did? had he already compromised your integrity and claimed you for himself in secret? he did fancy himself the gentleman, so why hadn’t the big question been asked already?
surely, you did know it wouldn’t be the last time you’d be able to call him "my lord" and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time he’d be able to look at you in the eyes and call you his lady.
© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.
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luveline · 8 months
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Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!
tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k
cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme
"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed. 
Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."
"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy." 
"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star." 
You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine. 
"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look. 
"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?" 
"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back. 
He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight. 
Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem. 
"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better. 
You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.
Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity. 
He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can. 
"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?" 
"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me." 
"In that case, I'm staying right here." 
You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to." 
Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never. 
He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—
"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?" 
"Nowhere. I'm here." 
Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?" 
"Fine. I love you." 
"I love you," you say. 
There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words. 
"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone. 
"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant." 
"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled. 
"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.  
"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over. 
"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms. 
You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom. 
"What are you–" 
"I'm gonna take a test." 
"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?" 
You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy. 
You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his. 
Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good." 
"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously. 
Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant. 
"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.
He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test. 
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bowbow-the-clown · 1 year
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... A Raw Drawin Out .. Drawing ...
.. Draw This A Couple Days Ago, Definitely Will Ink It Up And Color It ..
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... As For Who This Guy Is .... A TEDDY OF WHO IS UNKNOWN ... All You To Know That THIS GUY IS DEAD AND PAST FLUFF IN THE Venturian VENTURIAN AGE ...
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yanderenightmare · 4 months
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TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, slave darling, crude and derogatory terms, classism, abuse of power, death threats
fem reader
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Thinking about the poor kitchen maid who's suddenly told she's to be the spoiled Prince's new chambermaid.
It hasn’t even gone a day yet, but you already miss your job in the kitchens.
Sure, the sweltering heat of the ovens always left you in a state of fever, and kneading dough from dawn ‘til dusk made your arms acidic with burns – unyieldingly sore – not to mention never getting a chance to sit down and rest before collapsing in bed at the end of the day. But the smell of freshly baked buns and the chance to sneak a bite out of those that came out of the oven just a bit too burnt for serving had always felt like payment enough.
That and not having to deal with the royal family.
You know you should feel honored. You know it’s supposed to feel godsend to be picked to become the Prince’s personal servant. But… there was a reason he so often required a change of maid.
You still remember the last one they’d taken from the kitchen. She was pretty and young and shouldn’t have been working there in the first place – that’s what everyone used to say before she disappeared.
You wonder if such words carry curses… and what you did to deserve the same things being said about you.
You nearly cried standing outside The Prince’s chambers, chewing on your lip with his breakfast tray in hand, wondering what rumors were true – if he really was as terrible as everyone claims – wondering where the other kitchen maid went and whether you’d end up in the same place… wondering what you could do to keep it from happening.
You don’t know what you were standing there waiting for, nearly pissing yourself when you knew he was still out – busy hunting down a couple of runaway servants for sport. It was almost as though you feared the room itself, as though it would bite once crossing the threshold. 
None of the sorts happened, though a gust of warm wind hit you like the breath of a beast once you opened the door.
Inside, there were around a dozen heads mounted on the wall – dragons, bears, lions, wolves, and other creatures you weren’t too sure of – all with mouths big enough to bite yours off.
You took only a second to look at them before they looked as though they’d leap from the walls and eat you alive, just like you’d predicted.
You set the tray of food down on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom to draw his bath – deciding work would keep your mind off it.
Stepping out a second later, you fixed a fire in the hearth and made to make the bed, stretching the duvet and the quilt over the massive mattress while eyeing the thread count with envy and the hand-stitching with awe. Left to wonder how many ducks had been shot to stuff the mountain of plush pillows he’d all but thrown onto the floor to make space for himself.
Walking through the steam to the bath again, you opened the cupboard to pick out soaps and oils – overwhelmed by the sight of every shelf stocked full of all sorts you’d never seen – glad you had somewhat decent reading skills – unlike many of the other maids.
Soaping the water, you sat on the edge and waited with a hand wading through the warmth – and while biting your lip, you let your mind wander again – daydream, like it so often did – imagining what it would be like to feel it on the rest of your skin, warm and smooth, sucking all the stress out and leaving you soft like a newborn.
He watched you enjoy yourself, his stark eyes calmly assessing what they saw with a tilt of his head – trailing from the tip of your worn-out shoes to the tattered edge of your grey maid’s dress, up your lap to the cinch of your waist where your white apron was bound – taking his time until your eyes fluttered open to find him standing there.
You nearly fell into the water, hopping up to a stance. “Sorry, your majesty- I forgot myself! Please forgive me.” You bowed, looking down at the muddy stains on your gray shoes – in anxious wait of his wrath.
But instead of a backhanded slap that would send you straight to the stone floor or a spit of venom which would make you flinch and cry, he spoke a calm and patient “Come here-”
Though spoken in a certain tone of authority that forced you forward in quick steps until stopping just short of him – still with eyes downcast.
“Mh, I'm glad they haven't run out of cute ones down there.” He said then, once you stood only a hair's length from him – voice just as calm as before and inspiring just as much surprise in you still, though now joined with visible confusion in the crinkle it caused between your brows. A furrow that only deepened once he reached out his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“Your majesty?” You questioned.
“It’s master.” He corrected sharply, and you grew unsure if his voice wasn’t just cold rather than calm. “I like that better. Now quit wasting my time and undress me, slave – I have important shit to attend to today.”
You wavered only a second, feeling the words like a flick to the forehead. “Of course, your majes- master. Forgive me.” You blurted with hands quickly jumping forth to help detangle the knots keeping his robes together. 
Small fingers working hurriedly to appease him, setting aside the light leather cuirass upon his dresser once loosening it from his torso – wondering if you should tell him your name, though thinking better of it as he’d opted for simply referring to you as a slave instead of asking. 
You hadn’t been called that in a long while – slave – never by anyone in the kitchen, at least. You’d nearly forgotten it was what you were – a slave – and not just a busy member of the crown’s staff.
You bit your lip with another bow of your head, not wanting the Prince to see your face in its hurt while you undid the ties to the braces on his arms. The castle had become your home rather than a prison over the years, but… with the echo of your title wringing in that very heavy tone of his, along with standing there – bowing your head while undressing him of all fine body armor and robes – you couldn’t suppress the reminder of being of much lesser blood and birth. A fact that – despite never before having bothered you much – somehow seemed to strangle you now.
He’d dragged mud in with his boots – and given he’d not bothered taking them off, you were left to believe he wanted you to do it for him. And though humiliating as it was, you crouched down and began undoing the laces nonetheless – further feeling degraded while caressing the boot.
You pulled it off and repeated the action with the other foot – wondering if he meant you to remove his breeches and tunic as well until he, fortunately for you, lifted the shirt off and pulled the strings to the trousers himself. Leaving the undergarments in a pool on the floor next to you.
You kept your eyes down until he was completely submerged in the water, afraid to see something you weren’t allowed to – before getting up and padding back to the cupboard. You'd never been any lady's or lord's maid before, but you had been trained in the duties – and though heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of those duties, you still made to grab the soap and loofa in shakey hands before kneeling down on the stool next to the tub.
You’d never seen the prince if not from afar atop the castle balcony during speeches by his mother, the Queen – and had only ever heard of his appearance as something twisted and foul – but looking at him with his eyes closed, he really didn’t look as demonic as people had made him out to be. But further thinking about it, scrubbing his chest with soap and water and oil – you realized that none of those people were likely to have seen him up close either.
He looks every bit royal with his strength of face – cutting edges as though carved in marble, with chiseled muscles gleaming in the water and oil.
He was no doubt very handsome, you concluded silently – finally understanding why he was more of an eligible prince than what his attitude would otherwise allow – that, along with the kingdom’s riches, of course.
He sagged forward while you mindlessly amused your findings – though paying attention enough to take the cue – squeezing water onto his back with the sponge before rubbing over the broad flex of muscles, freezing once hearing him let out a heavy moan.
He leaned back again after you were done. Spilling water onto your dress once pulling his arms out to rest on the frame with a sigh – his chin tipped upward, lounging lazily on the back of the tub.
You reached for his face next – now with a silken cloth – stroking it lightly over the few droplets of blood splattered from when he must have cut into those poor runaways after hunting them down with swords and dogs in heel.
You shuddered some at the thought and must have let your eyes linger too long – or at least long enough not to notice him opening his – staring at you silently with eyes jaded in something that seemed to seize you by the throat.
“I’m sorry, ma-” You tried, but he seemed disinterested in it, reaching for you with wet fingers rubbing on the hem of your collar.
“You’re not dressed properly.” He said then, voice lazy yet loud – unimpressed, though not enough to be outright angry.
Gulping at the feel of his large hand so close to your neck, your voice only barely held it together. “I’m sorry, master. They hadn’t the right maid livery in my size, but I’ll have it ready tomo-” You started, hands folded neatly on your lap.
“Take it off.” He interrupted.
You blinked – tensing with your throat closing – sitting there stunned for a moment before mustering an ever so hesitant answer.
“Your majesty?”
“It’s master. Don’t make me tell you again, slave." He growled through grit teeth right at your face after yanking you close by the fabric of your shirt. "And you either dress properly, or you go naked. And right now, it looks like it’ll be the latter. Unless you want to be whipped for poor servitude?”
Your eyes – moon-big now while you shook your head – breathing thin through your nose. “No, master... I’ll undress.”
“Good.” He broke off your collar, dropping you back down onto your seat on the floor before rising with water rushing fast and heavy down along his limbs, dripping onto you as he stepped out with an unfettered splash.
You got up as well, beginning with the buttons on your shirt. Feeling him eye you while he wrapped himself in the towel you’d laid ready for him – his burning gaze leaving you goosefleshed and nearly in tears, bashful as you stepped out of your skirt – naked before him.
You didn’t dare look – even as he stepped toward you. Keeping your head bowed low – breath in shivers while eyeing the hand he reached for you, his fingers stopping just short of touching your bare skin.
“Clean yourself.” He said then, wafting the same hand to the tub he’d just used. Still filled with bubbles of lavender, though no doubt also of his own grime. But you wouldn’t refuse, no matter the degradation – your thoughts still lingering on the former kitchenmaid who’d disappeared not long after becoming the Prince's personal servant.
You stepped in, feeling the warmth close around your legs – still hot enough to prickle. Lowering yourself down, you sat there – swallowed by the bubbles with the loofa in hand, lathering your flesh with the mix of oil, soap, and water – brushing off soot and sweat – leaving you soft-skinned and smooth to the touch, but also riddled with goosebumps that wouldn't lower under the heavy leer the Prince was giving you.
“Get out and come here.” He said a short moment later, and you got out as told – taking slow steps toward the man, with footprints leaving soapy puddles in their wake.
He reached behind you to pull the pin from your worker's bun, letting your hair cascade in flowy wisps down around your shoulders – before brushing them behind you to clear your face and chest.
He’d dried off but didn’t offer you the towel – having dropped it into a wet pile on the floor – now reaching out to feel the smooth gloss of your breasts with brazen digits. Inspecting and assessing while caressing their weight as you stood there with your head still hung down low – silent and shivering.
Soon his hands fell from your chest down to judge your every curve, sliding over slippery slopes until reaching your cunt – stroking two thick fingers through the drippy curls found there. Gliding them between the lips, he circled your clit with his middle digit – tickling you – while dark eyes watched your lip quiver with a power-hungry gleam.
Stepping closer, the small smirk stretched on his face brushed your hairline where you tried bowing your head even lower in embarrassment – with brows tremoring similar to the hands hanging loosely by your sides.
“Aren’t you gonna bleat like a little lamb? Hmm... slave?” He asked then – low in a whisper, blowing gently into the sweat of your hair – cold enough to make you shiver even more. “The slut before you did….” He added with his smirk sharpening – lips stiffening against your skin where he brushed them in halfhearted kisses down your forehead and temple until reaching the shell of your ear. “I had to wring her little neck just to make her stop squealing.”
You sucked your teeth on impulse, jolting just a bit but not enough to make the dire mistake of moving. 
“I can tell you’re smarter. That’s good….” He continued with fingers kept at your cunt – playing your shivering core where you stood planted – dripping wet with bathwater and terrified of moving. “Weak little things like you do better understanding their place.”
Your hands formed loose fists, flinching at your sides as you kept from the urge to wring your thighs shut until he left your sensitivity alone.
“But smart or not, I believe you missed a spot earlier-” Both his hands found your hair instead. “So get down on your knees, slave.” 
One paw cupped the back of your skull in a ponytail while the other laid flat on your scalp, pushing you down until he had you leveled with his throbbing manhood – thick and high-strung – blushed red and strangled with veins – bobbing with might against the ant trail leading up to his navel and looking every bit impatient to be served. 
“Use this pretty head of yours to do better, and maybe I won't have to wring your little neck too.”
You eyed the swaying length with eyes crossing – sucking your lip at its intimidating reach and how it seemed to rise higher than your head – mumbling out a weak. “Yes, master...”
You dropped your jaw and produced your tongue – feeling him keep control of your head in his tightening hold, yanking your hair before you gave the large cock a flat lick – starting at the base of his balls until flicking off at the very tip.
Not too revolted by the mild taste of lavender and vegetable oil, you locked your lips around the head and sucked it in hopes he’d ease his grip.
“Sh-fuuhck- you really do know your place, huh slave?” He mouthed – his head hanging back in a heavy groan – holding your skull in both hands while using them to bob you against his crotch on repeat, lolling his hips inside the wet warm comfort of your mouth a little deeper for each time – only moaning with a laugh once you gave a whine for breath. “Sweet and obedient- just how I like- with a nice wet throat to fuck too….”
He thought of kicking you when you put your small hands against his thighs to brace yourself – but given how softly you held them there without nails and pinches, he decided he’d grant you the tiny mercy – thinking he’d later teach you to keep your hands on your knees when serving him head like a proper slave ought to.
Tipping his head back again, he looked down at you and the pretty curl between your brows and the cute sight of your teary eyes looking back up at him – giving a hiss at how it made his balls tug in excitement.
“Get up-” He growled, pulling you up by your hair and throat until you shoddily stood upright on unsteady feet – lightheadedly looking at him with dazed eyes and a wet pout. “’This tight cunt as loyal to the crown as your mouth, hm?” He asked with a hand smacking the soft place, making you yelp before he made to bury two of his thick fingers inside the taunt space.
You whined out softly at the intrusion – kept steady and close by the fist holding your throat in a choke – before he used the same hand to throw you over the bed – stomach first with a slap to your ass.
“Bow down, slave- and show me some fucking respect. You’re in the presence of royalty, remember?”
He mounted you with a pent-up groan – and a strong fist in your hair, pushing your face down into the mount of pillows you’d dallied with earlier. His knees dipped into the plush next to your hips, locking you beneath him with his spit-slickened meat resting between the soft valley of your ass, sliding between the cheeks impatiently.
Gathering your wrists in his other fist, he kept them crossed at the small of your spine – before pulling back and letting his cockhead fall right to your sweetly wet and welcoming opening – wasting little time in piercing it nice and deep in a direct aim – like an arrow shot straight through a target.
You winced and bucked your hips at the attack – feeling your walls weep and sting – fluttering hot around the size of it.
He leaned across your back – heavy against your shoulders with his mouth at your ear in gritty whispers. “I like docile slave girls like you who know a thing or two about pleasing a man. Good submissive sluts who understand they’re nothing but warm soft meat for men like me to devour.” 
His words groaned in nibbling bites on your earlobe – with a hand kept strict and harsh in yanking your head back for him as he slowly started dragging himself out and stuffing you so fast you couldn’t keep from yelping at the breach. Toes gripping the cold rocky tiles as your legs shook under you – being rocked into harsh and deep by the muscle strength of the beast on top.
“I'm not the first one you’ve bent over for, huh?” He continued with a grin, haughtily chuckling in low breathy condescension. “Probably the first one you’ve had take you in a proper bed, though, hm? And not in a hayloft on whatever dirty farm you grew up on.” 
Your fingernails punched into your palms where he wrung your wrists tight, keeping you pressed flat beneath him while he heedlessly rutted into you like you were nothing but his own snug fist. 
“I bet the whole village had a go seeing how pretty you turned out.” He laughed again, scoffing at it with his tongue tickling your ear. “Did they all fuck you like this? From behind like a farm animal? On all fours with your pretty face moaning in the mud?” Simpering, he sped up as though aroused by his own words.
Twisting your hair tighter and groaning louder against your ear – chasing your deepest parts with balls clapping hard against your clit.
“You’re all fuckin' inbreds- It’s a fucking miracle your filthy parents created something like you- prettier than all the bratty princesses I have to listen to yap all day.” He moaned – now fully drooling against your face, nomming on your ear with heavy breaths.
Fully draping you in his sweaty muscles, you lay gasping beneath the weight – cunt clenching hard around his shaft – making him hiss.
“Ah fuck- It's nice coming home to an obedient slave- so tight and warm- grateful for a royal cock in your poor slave cunt, huh?”
You winced at his pounding, so deep you felt it choke you – making your stomach fold and curl, trying to protect itself from the assault. “Yes- thank you, master- thank you-” You cried while he placed sloppy layers of wet kisses down your temple and cheek in return – until finally pulling off.
“Come here, down on your knees-” Ripping himself to his feet, he pulled you with him by the fist riddled in your hair and pushed you down at the foot end. 
Tugging on his cock in the other hand – quick faps in the slick – he kept you looking up at him while slapping the wet weight in sticky taps against your lips. 
“Open wide, slave- here it comes-” 
Only one more jerk and it all blew in thick white beams shooting across your face – spewing in clusters, hitting you once on your forehead and another over the nose - dripping to your lips into your gaping mouth where he focused on squeezing out the rest – tapping the plush creamy tip against your tongue while panting. 
“Mh-fuck- clean me off and swallow.”
With breaths heavy and slowing, he detangled his hand from your sweaty locks and made to pet your head instead. Gently running his fingers over your hair while watching you obediently kiss and lick up all the spill in tired and slow yet devoted strokes with your tongue until it was all prettily wiped clean.
“Good slave.” The Crown Prince hummed then.
Finally sounding satisfied – still with a lazy hand holding your head where you so faithfully sat at his feet, swallowing his seed, while his satiated cock grew limp in regard.
“Now go wash off while the water’s still warm, and come out and help me get dressed.” He ordered, voice groggily soft in the after high. “I have a full schedule today looking at potential brides… and I want my little farm animal by my side to keep me going insane from boredom.”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi
JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya
HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa
BLLK – Reo
DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi
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shanieveh · 1 year
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dangerously yours !
— genshin men as the villain, you're the hero and throw some love in the mix
sacrifices the world to save you— ALHAITHAM, scaramouche, diluc, THOMA, childe, chongyun
He knew you planned to sacrifice yourself. He saw it coming. And he was ready to prevent every bit of it. He loved you. Once from afar, once from a different identity, a falsehood, a lie. He did all of that to see you, to know you and he fell. Hard.
You were a saint, the embodiment of good morality. A hope for the future. The opposite of him. And as you brace yourself for the moment your soul leaves for a new world, all for his arms to be wrapped in your body. You open your eyes and found a new world, the sound of bombs from where you once were. But that didn't matter. Not when his eyes sparkle more than crystals.
let's you defeat them— kaveh, VENTI, arataki itto, AYATO, albedo, xingqiu, cyno, aether, zhongli, tartaglia, heizou
As your blade came so close to slashing his neck you were finally hailed as a hero. A champion, a winner. But that void in your heart, a trophy can't fill that piece of your heart. He told you it was okay, as both of you staged a fight. Now he was tortured, punished for his crimes. He made you defeat him so you'll be once again called a hero.
You visit him almost everyday, always with an anonymous identity. He still smiled even with his tortured frame, one from lashes, some from his couple inmates. How can he sacrifice all his of career for you? It was easy really. No amount of punishment could exceed your cries, and that beautiful pained face he can't bear to see.
you join the darkside— kaeya, AYATO, albedo, pantalone, scaramouche, pierro, dainsleif, tartaglia
He lured you right to his trap. It all started when you met him, it was like Eve drawing closer to the sneaky snake. But just like it, your first meeting was destiny. Your family always wanted you to be a kind loving child. And you grew up as one. But as you learned more about the other side, you realized how wrong the "morally right" actually is.
It started off with a petty theft, to some injuries and then violence. With him at your side, it felt like pure adrenaline rushed to your veins. He taught you reality, away from the fairy tale built by the stupid legends of heroes. He made you feel that pain and hatred all came from love. You made him feel that loving was never enough to show just how much he adores you. Bang.
he becomes good— scaramouche, THOMA kazuha, VENTI, kaveh, tighnari, zhongli, bennett, xiao
He was never really evil. He was hurt. And when you feel him, and touch and be with him you learn how he actually is. How he was supposed to be. He used his power to see you often, maybe battle with you, but with the many chances to defeat you he chose not to. The many chances to destroy your plans, he left.
On quiet nights, away from the prying eyes and evil plans. There lies both of you, one asleep, one awake. He looks at the person lying on the grass and stares at the peaceful sky and saw no difference. You were the shooting star. His wish. He can't be evil, and he never was. And just for you, he never will. He can't stand to lose you, and he would give everything he built for that.
BONUS: he sacrifices himself— thoma, KAZUHA, alhaitham, childe, albedo, diluc, KAEYA
No... it can't be. He cant die like that. Not for you. It wasn't how it was supposed to be. Pleas of you wanting to wake him up. He was supposed to be a foe. But how he loved you so. He made you feel like you had a purpose, that you were more than just a weapon of justice. He made you feel alive and in doing so it killed him.
The war was over. But was it worth it? It wasn't. Killing him, destroyed you, tore you to pieces. He planned all of this. He knew he was... and in the palm of his hand lie the letter. A plan? A story? No.. it only stated three words you were so scared told him. A feeling you now regret.
"I love you."
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andy-15-07 · 3 months
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hi! I love your feyd rautha fics 🥰 can you write one where the reader is pregnant with his child, a female, and he’s upset and cold with the reader because she’s not a male heir? but then, when she’s born, he’s so transfixed by her beauty and just the fact that she’s his, and that he just melts and swears to kill anyone for her?
My precious one
masterlist ! pairing: Feyd Rautha x reader
Dune Masterlist
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The halls of the fortress echoed with an air of tension as Y/n, heavily pregnant with Feyd Rautha's child, moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors. Feyd, the formidable heir to House Harkonnen, had been distant and cold ever since learning the gender of their unborn child. Tradition demanded a male heir, and Y/n's heart ached with the weight of disappointment as she faced the impending birth of a daughter.
"Y/n," Feyd's voice, usually smooth and commanding, was laced with discontent as he entered their chambers. "What use is a daughter to the House of Harkonnen? You were to bear me a son, a worthy successor."
Y/n's eyes welled with tears, but she fought to maintain her composure. "Feyd, she is still our child, a part of both of us. She will carry the blood of House Harkonnen."
He scowled, turning away. "A daughter will bring us nothing but weakness. I need an heir who can command respect, instill fear in our enemies. This changes everything."
As the days passed, Feyd distanced himself further, leaving Y/n feeling isolated and burdened. The weight of disappointment settled upon her like a heavy cloak, but she clung to the hope that when their daughter arrived, Feyd's heart would soften.
The day of reckoning came, the air thick with anticipation as Y/n went into labor. Feyd, though present, maintained a stoic silence, his eyes betraying the turmoil within. The labor was arduous, but when the cries of their newborn daughter filled the room, Y/n felt an overwhelming sense of joy and relief.
"She's here, Feyd," Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Our daughter."
Feyd's eyes met the tiny, squirming bundle in Y/n's arms, and for a moment, the hardness in his gaze softened. The baby girl had a delicate beauty that seemed to captivate him, a sight that defied his earlier expectations.
"What shall we name her?" Y/n asked, her heart swelling with love for their precious child.
"Feydra," he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a tenderness that surprised them both.
Feydra's arrival sparked a transformation in Feyd. The once cold and distant heir was now consumed by an overwhelming protectiveness and love for his daughter. As he held her for the first time, his fingers traced the contours of her tiny face, and he couldn't help but marvel at her innocence.
"She's ours, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I will do anything to protect her. No harm shall come to our Feydra."
From that moment on, Feyd became an attentive and devoted father. He would spend hours cradling Feydra in his arms, his stern countenance replaced by a softness that only she could evoke. The fortress, once a place of cold authority, became a haven for the blossoming love between father and daughter.
As Feydra grew, Feyd's determination to shield her from the harsh realities of their world intensified. He vowed to eliminate any threat that dared to cast a shadow over her, swearing to protect her with a fierceness that only a father's love could inspire.
One day, as father and daughter strolled through the fortress gardens, Feyd's eyes gleamed with an unspoken promise. "Feydra, my precious one, you are the future of House Harkonnen. No harm will befall you as long as I draw breath. I would destroy worlds to keep you safe."
Feydra, oblivious to the dangers that lurked beyond the fortress walls, gazed up at her father with adoration. In those moments, Feyd's heart swelled with a love that transcended bloodlines and tradition. The bond between father and daughter had forged a legacy that defied the expectations of House Harkonnen, proving that love could be a force more powerful than any political alliance or familial obligation.
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