He hated working late, he always got home to her sleeping soft, and tonight was no different. The drive home had taken slightly normal, unusual autumn weather causing diversions, so she would definitely be fast asleep.
The house was in darkness, confirming his suspicions and he took each step up to the bedroom carefully, avoiding the ones that creaked and finally made it up. There she was, laid on her front, her hair slightly covering her face, his eyes raked over her. She’d, at some point, kicked off the duvet, exposing her little black nightdress. It had ridden to her thighs, just enough, but also not enough to completely expose her - but it wasn’t like he hadn’t memorised her every curve already.
He desperately wanted to touch her, run his fingers up the inside of her thighs, feel her soft skin, but he was freezing cold and he knew he’d startle her awake. He settled for giving her his usual forehead kiss and heading for the bathroom.
He had a tendency to zone out in his post work shower, enjoying the way the hot water cascaded down his body, the way the steam filled the room and he could just find a moment of peace. He was hazily letting the water engulf him, when a soft pair of hands slid up his chest from behind him, and a face nuzzled into his back.
“You should be sleeping,” he sighed, putting his hands over hers, enjoying the embrace.
She softly kissed his back, not quite tall enough to reach his shoulder, but she never cared, she just missed him, the long hours keeping them apart.
“So should you,” she whipped back and he couldn’t argue with her, he squeezed her hands, needing her touch. He felt her shiver against him, realising she wasn’t under the water.
“Come here, princess,” he guided her softly, so she was in front of him, them both in the heat of the water. He carefully pushed her hair out of her face, a ruse, before he cupped her face in his hand, causing her to smile. The smile that he adored so much. God, he’d missed her.
He couldn’t help but kiss her, tenderly at first; but her hands ran down his arms, and up to his face. Them both holding each other, and a simple, but playful, swipe of her tongue over his bottom lip ignited the passion in him.
He growled at her before kissing her harder, their tongues fighting against each other, his hands desperately pawing at her skin, cupping her ass so he could pull her closer to him.
“Oh!” She gasped as he ground her hips against hers, his hardness very much present.
“I’ve missed you,” he nuzzled into her neck, kissing and biting all those sensitive spots that made her mew so deliciously. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and the more he devoured her skin, the louder she got, the more desperate she became.
“I’m not going to be gentle, but I’ll make it up to you, okay?” He tenderly whispered into her ear, needing her to reply. She hooked her arms around his shoulders, knowing exactly what was about to happen.
“Okay,” she consented, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.
He needed nothing else, as he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his hips. Pushing her back against the tiled wall of the shower, he reached between them both, guiding himself to her entrance, and without a word, pushing himself inside her. She bit down of his shoulder as she adjusted to his size, and he just grunted loudly as he rutted into her, taking his frustrations out on her, his grip on her hard, hard enough to leave bruises.
“Such a good girl,” he praised her, slamming his hips into her on every word and all she could do was moan in response.
She risked letting her head fall back against the wall, and he took the opportunity to wrap his hand around her throat. He watched as her eyes rolled back as he squeezed a little and it just encouraged him more.
“Fucking perfect,” he ground against her more, and her submissive nature just drove him crazy. He felt her clench tight around him, and he stopped moved, taunting her. She shuddered against him, she knew she couldn’t please, he’d torture her more, and in turn, torture himself.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to be gentle,” she smirked dangerously, and he cocked his eyebrow at her. She was playing his game, and he was too riled up to stop now. He pulled out, and he didn’t say a single word as he dropped her legs to the floor and span her around, forcing her face against the wall.
He pulled her hips towards his, and in one motion, entered her again. He grabbed her hair, using it as leverage as he used to last of his energy to take her, to claim her, his nails leaving indents in her skin, as he couldn’t control the primal growl that left him as he finally filled her.
His bucking became involuntary as he rode out his orgasm, and she was nothing but a weak whimpering mess. He made sure to cuddle her close, and praise her, soft kisses on her skin as he tended to her, washing her hair and letting her come back to reality in her own time. He wrapped her up in the fluffiest town and carried her back to their bed, letting her curl up against him, as they both drifted off to sleep…
Me during a good WAV: "Oh, yeah! Fuck me, baby~!" *Insert absolute untapped lust and animalistic desire while ravaging myself while sporting an ahegao face.*
Me in the comments: *Writes something sympathetic, doting, and makes sure to do it in a respectful way.*
My whole identity on SFF was gentlemanly and formal, so I try and keep that persona even though I'm letting my other sides spill out for all of you to see.
But holy shit... While I love soft caretaking I'm mostly driven by the vulnerability, desperation, and the idea of mess (main draws for all my kinks, especially BDSM). It makes me a slave to my desire and instinct.
A/n: I just really wanted to write smut for the first time. Especially one involving a possessive male lead. Which is why I chose to post on Tumblr... because why not? Enjoy!
Masterlist
“Absolutely. Not.”
His answer to your pleas. No matter how hard you beg or scream, he doesn't let up his ministrations. He delights in how much you whine about how “it hurts” or how you “can't take anymore” apparently, but your body is much more honest than your words. Your inner walls continue to tighten and suck in his thick, fat cock as he thrusts his hips against the plush of your behind.
What? What about consent during and after? The ability to take consent away as you please, as your right?
HAH!
You don't understand who you're dealing with, do you?
All he cares about right now is making sure you both get a complete fill of each other, and that he teaches your body thoroughly and deeply exactly who it belongs to.
Consider it punishment for daring to let some hooligan touch you. Your lover should be the only one who gets to feel your soft skin, your scars, your stretch marks, your birthmarks–your everything. Even if that idiot only managed to grab at your wrist, your lover sliced that hand off so cleanly their blood vessels had to take a moment to realize they've been damaged.
Seeing your reaction at the time, barely batting an eye, your lover found solace in knowing you've truly accepted him for all that he is and all that he can offer you. You hadn't care about his status, his prolific background. You care about him. You love him.
So take it. Take his hot seed deep into your gushing hole, and let him have your entire being. For you are his now and his eternally…
Pausing on the page she was reading, she exhaled slowly. The scene on the page was getting heated, and her chest was flushed red, and her mind frantic with thoughts. Her free hand dipped down her body, her fingers finding the hair on the head nestled between her thighs, guiding him a little to the left. She couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped her as he lapped needily at her clit. Her grip tightened on his hair, causing him to moan desperately against her, her gentle dominance drove him insane. His fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her thighs as he pulled her hips closer, needing more of her.
Her book involuntarily slipped out of her hand, hitting the floor with a soft thud, both of them unfazed. He looked up at her, his eyes dilated, almost black, watching as her head leant back, eyes hazing over, little whimpers slipping from her. He delicately swirled his tongue around that sensitive bundle of nerves, applying just enough pressure to have her wanting…needing him…her hips started rolling against him, and he made a move to pull back, but her grip tightened, anchoring him into position, completely at her mercy.
He alternated slow deliberate licks with messy kisses devouring her as he watched her melt before him. Her mews just encouraged him more, as his name just fell from her mouth breathlessly like it was the only word left in her vocabulary. He felt her thighs startle to temper; her moans more feral, and he took the opportunity to slide his fingers in her dripping wet heat. Her walls tights around him, fluttering, drawing him in more. His fingers curled inside her, hooking onto that spot that made her convulse so deliciously for him. She was a puddle of moans and whimpers before him, biting the side of her free hand to muffle her noises, watching her slowly unravel had him in complete awe, no matter how many times he go to witness it.
She tightened her grip on his hair, a tell-tale sign, pushing his face into her folds and he indulged her, the way he knew she needed, lapping at her, sucking on her, worshipping her like she deserved until he felt her orgasm rip through her body, leaving her trembling. He gently kissed the inside of her thighs as she loosened her grip on him, before making his way up her body, leaning over her as she laid there, euphoric and sated. She hummed contently, as he slipped his arms around her, holding her in a soft embrace, kissing her delicately as she came down from her high…
She woke up slowly, her body already aching with need, her thighs pressed together for some kind of relief. She didn’t often wake up this needy but when she did, she knew only one thing could fix it… him.
He wasn’t awake yet, as he nuzzled into her, his arm draped over her waist. She couldn’t help but admire him, he looked so peaceful and she didn’t want to disturb him, but she needed him more.
Carefully she turned onto her side, facing him and almost instinctively he pulled her closer, his hand pressing against the small of her back, trapping her against him. She softly kissed his face, pulling a gentle hum from him, and she held his face in her hands, and kissed him properly, and as soon as their lips touched, his hand pushed her closer, holding her firmer against him.
“Morning kisses?” He mumbled, stealing smaller kisses as he stirred awake,
“Just soft ones,” she purred innocently, making his chuckle, he knew her all too well, maybe a little too well. She had motives, not ones he was going to willingly deny her, but not ones he was going to give her so easily. He kissed her forehead before tucking a finger under her chin; tipping her head back to look at him. Her eyes a little glassy from neediness and it made him twitch.
“Be a good girl and tell me what you want,” the order made her eyes go wide, and she blushed - she wasn’t always brave enough to tell him what she wanted, she didn’t know why, sometimes she just couldn’t.
“You,” she blushed, hoping that would be enough to get what she wanted, but knowing full well it wasn’t.
“Oh silly girl, you’ve got me, I’m right here aren’t I!” He mocked her, but pulled her thigh over his hip, so he could grind into her, enough to make her gasp but not enough to give her what she truly wanted.
“Would you like to try again?” His hand gripped her thigh, slowly grinding himself against her, her body shivered against his. She nodded as she took a slow, calculated breathe, causing him to smirk, proud of her.
“I want you to ride you,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing again. He could have made her say it clearer, but he’d woken up wanting, and he could feel how needy she was, as he ground against her. The wet spot that had appeared on his boxers, was a mixture of them both, and with a low growl, he rolled them both, so that she was on top of him.
Her tousled morning hair framed her face perfectly, and the shirt, one of his, she was wearing carefully framed her body, and he drank all of her in. He could feel her heat against him, and it drove him crazy…he just wanted to be buried deep within her folds. It’s all he ever wanted, they were never able to put each other down.
His hands roamed her body, embracing her every curve, stirring soft gasps from her, her hips rolling against his, he let her take her time, as she slid her hand down his chest, and in between them both. She had no hesitation about freeing him from his boxers, stroking him a few times, he growled as her thumb slid over his tip, pre cum leaking out…
“Always so needy…” she purred, his pretty demon coming out to play, he could only whimper in response as she teased him more, his hands gripping her hips firm…
She lifted her hips ever so slightly, as she guided him through her dripping folds, he was holding his resolve, ignoring the impulse to slam her hips down, letting her tease them both. She could be insatiable and a little cruel at times, but every moment was worth it. She pushed him to her entrance, and his thighs were shaking, and he watched in awe as she slid down his length, moaning the entire way, panting as he filled her. He hissed at her heat, her tightness; her wetness, he was completely consumed by her. He could feel her adjusting to him, little quivers, clenches and vibrations and he knew he could lose it right there and then.
She finally started to move, slowly rolling her hips against him, her moans filling the room; he couldn’t help encouraging her more, telling her how good she felt wrapped around him; lifting her hips, and pushing her back down. The more he encouraged her, the faster she took him, and he could feel her tighten around him even more, and he relaxed his grip on her hips, watching her chase her orgasm.
“That’s it; come for me… you’re doing such a good job, you can do it…just a little more,” he encouraged her, and she whined, he could feel she was right on the edge, but not quite getting there. He slipped his thumb in between them both, and found that little bundle of nerves he enjoyed so much, and carefully rubbed it, and surely enough, with a few calculated strokes, she was convulsing around him, her nails digging into his chest as she panted his name over and over.
He took his opportunity to pull her down to him, tucking her against his chest, kissing her temple, whilst she settled a little, but not too much. He started to buck his hips up into her, gentle at first, until he couldn’t hold it anymore, and he was rutting into her over and over, her moans in his ear, encouraging more.
“Such a good girl for me, so wet, so needy…” he growled into her hair as he slammed into her, he felt her nodding, his climax building, they were both a mess, dripping and leaking, and he felt her clench around him again…
“Fuck, I can’t hold it when you do that,” he tried to slow his hips, as he moaned at the feeling,
“Don’t stop, god, don’t you dare stop,” she cried against him, rolling her hips to get some kind of friction. He didn’t need telling twice, as he bucked up into her, his arms wrapped around her tight, kissing her neck, as he felt her come undone against him again but he didn’t stop this time, he kept going, pushing her hips down as he rutted him, making sure to hit deep when he finally, and loudly came inside her…
He kept her nestled on his chest, kissing her forehead as she lightly dozed on him, little hums coming from them both as they came down from their high…
I want to be pinned underneath you, my leg over your shoulder, your hand around my throat whilst you take all your frustration out on me, bucking into me repeatedly, breeding me over and over…
C/w: Includes adult content, NSFW, unhealthy relationship dynamic, unhealthy behavior, murder, animal cruelty, animal death, male x female, dom reader(?), sub lover(?), mentions of sadomasochism, no beta we die like men
A/n: So I wanted to rip something out of my head today and throw it down into something tangible instead of just letting it ferment like all of the other ideas. Writing is hard, aughhhh.
But here's my good boy oc! Enjoy him!
Masterlist
As the daughter of the Astoria Empire's Royal family, there is nothing you can do that can tarnish your reputation. Even if the people see you as “The Mad First-born Princess”, they still worshiped your family's lineage, especially your father, the Emperor, as descended from the heavens and their salvation.
A cultivated image, maintained by the powerful and the rich. You cared not for it, since this empire has never been a source of comfort.
Unfortunately, there is a law regarding marriage that greatly involves the first-born, even if you are literally a princess of the empire. Before any siblings can get married, the first-born must be married off. It is akin to presenting the image of the family forth in public, to serve as a model for the younger ones and other potential suitors and maidens. It is all about connections, yes? And luckily or unluckily depending on your tastes, you seem to have been engaged with a… strange gentleman.
“Princess?”
You sit, one leg crossed over the other, on the edge of your king-sized bed, dressed in a sheer nightgown. On his hand knees, still dressed in formal attire, the man’s chin rests on the dorsal side of your out-stretched foot and looks up at you with the most depraved looking eyes you have ever seen.
Naoki Nightshade.
The one and only son of Baron Nightshade. Considering his family is just slightly above the commoners and far below all of the many eligible dukes, marquess, viscounts, and earls, it would have been impossible for the both of you to become acquainted with one another, much less become engaged. Alas, he is a cousin of Lillian Vallar, who happens to be your best friend.
Lillian had actually been the one to suggest this match, claiming that it would bring you and her closer. You and the girl have a deep history together, having forged your bond through life and death during your teens. You know she had no further intentions. That girl seriously just wanted to become your sister-in-law.
And… well, you had to give some credit to your father, that neglectful bastard, since he had the main authority to approve this engagement.
You hold eye contact with Naoki with your chin tilted up in an arrogant manner. His yellow eyes burn with molten gold as they meet yours, making your eyes flick over to some part of the room out of… discomfort.
“... What?”
He closes his eyes, holds your foot with one hand so that he can give it a light kiss before laying more kiss as he moves upward your leg. You don’t stop him, prideful as you are. You are the first-born princess of Astoria. If you so wanted, you can simply kick him to the side. You could hit him. You could tear him apart. Humiliate him. No one would vouch for this man of low status, and no one would dare speak against the empire. And he certainly could not do anything against your physical strength.
He stops at the middle of your shin and looks up at you again. He doesn't look anywhere but your eyes, only waiting for a chance to meet them.
Uncomfortable.
Not in a bad way, just… With the low lighting by candlelight, the intimate setting being your bedroom with its dark red walls and decor, his connection to you… any other man in this situation would be ogling your body through the sheer material. Many men have, even when you are covered head to toe in opaque clothing in the balls you've crashed. But Naoki… he keeps searching for your eyes, no matter the situation or circumstances.
“Princess… please, look at me,” Naoki whispers.
“...And why should I?” you whisper back sharply, still avoiding his eyes, though more out of mischief.
You don't hear his response for a good few seconds, prompting you to look down only to meet his intense gaze yet again. You look away, then feel a quiver from his body from where his hands are holding your leg. He's taking amusement from your reaction, making you grit your teeth.
“What's so funny?”
He doesn't answer, only pressing his lips against your leg, resuming slowly. moving upwards with each kiss. It tickles, but you don’t stop him. It feels like forever but once he kisses your knee, he whispers in the most quiet and gentle voice you have ever heard from him, “I love you.”
Heat fills your cheeks, his stupid line adding onto why you’re avoiding his eyes. “Liar.”
“It's true.”
“We just met two months ago.”
“Indeed, we should've met sooner.”
“I recall you didn't want anything to do with me just weeks ago.”
He rests his cheek against your lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Yes. A mistake on my part. M’ sorry. I love you.”
Having been hidden and isolated since birth by a superstitious court, you escaped and crashed the Crown Prince's coming-of-age ceremony because every child of your family got to have an age-of-coming ceremony except you. Ever since your first public appearance, you've been known to torture the royal guards, insult the royal court, and crash uninvited to every single ball you held an interest in. It is like a game to you, to see just how far you can go before someone in the empire finally realizes just how rotten this country's worship is to your family.
But truth be told, you’re anything but mad. Personally, you'd rather stay out of the spotlight. You'd rather sit at home and read a good book or spend your days drinking tea or coffee and enjoy a good evening scenery. Quiet and serene, quite different from your outgoing and insane persona–merely a petty revenge against your father and the country.
You sigh. What the hell happened to this man? The Naoki you met for the first time always kept a practiced smile on his face, no matter how wicked you displayed yourself, yet this happy expression had never reached his eyes. He'd keep his distance whenever he could both physically and emotionally, though he always made sure to accept any and all invitations just to appease you, like a merchant. He used to be so visibly uncomfortable when you would constantly invade his personal space to spout some of the cringiest lines you could come up with when you’re in character. You had heard the gossip, as you always do, about how pitiful the man was to be engaged with someone like you.
You didn't expect much, for what sane person would want to marry a mad woman who could easily take the lives of millions with a single tantrum. In fact, one of the benefits of this persona was to keep away any potential offers of engagement. Why would you want to marry anyone from this empire you hated? But it is law for first-borns to be married, and this is all for the sake of your youngest brother, the Crown Prince, to continue the bloodline. You may have a vendetta against your father, but you could not fault your dear youngest brother for anything.
It was only just a few weeks ago when you revealed your true personality to him accidentally. There was only so much you could do before you had to drop the act eventually. The moment you shared your inner thoughts as the calm and collected lady you truly are, he became so…
You feel the urge to slap him. Again. You've done it before out of some silly punishment, but his face… oh, how could you forget the way he drooled and begged for you to touch him again? It woke something in you that you hadn't expected.
You may have delighted in watching people of the royal court beg for their lives, but they deserved it. They were all who always ignored you, abandoned you, and never batted an eye when you cried and wailed out of loneliness as a child.
This man making himself comfortable on your lap, on the other hand?
You grip the hair on the back of his head harshly, drawing out a shameless moan from him. You click your tongue. That stupid voice of his makes your body feel weird.
“Shut up,” you demand.
“But Princess…”
“What?”
“It feels good, touch me more…” he mumbles against the plush of your lap.
You release his hair and take your hand back. He whines, getting on his knees to rest his chin between your breasts. His eyes, when you make a quick glance at them, remind you of a puppy along with that pout. Damn his cuteness.
“Princess… look at meeee…”
“No.”
You hear him make a huff. “Is it because of the Duke of Elsie?”
Confusion overrides your bashfulness, and you meet his eyes. They look angry… and hurt, though they soften when he realizes you're meeting his gaze like he asked.
“The Duke of Elsie? Who-”
He cuts you off by pushing you down onto your bed. He places a knee between your legs and leans over you. One of his hands is holding his weight, and the other is caressing your sides, sometimes teasing the underside of one of your breasts with his thumb. One of your hands flies to his chest and the other wraps around his throat, a threat–a bluff, he knows. You raise an eyebrow, silently demanding an explanation.
“At the last ball he attended, you kept looking all over him without so much of a glance at me,” he explains.
The last ball? Ohhhh… the Duke of Elsie. If you remember correctly, he owns a vineyard and is known to let his pet birds have a taste of fermented berries occasionally. You were paying attention to the bird he came with, who was dancing quite vigilantly on his shoulder that night. What you find strange is that everyone who approached the Duke of Elsie simply wanted to get a closer look at the entertaining fowl. How did your fiance miss the forest for the trees?
“I was looking at the bird.”
“The bird? You mean the one that was dancing on his shoulder?”
“Yes. It was quite entertaining, was it not?”
He stares at you for a moment. “Oh.”
“Oh,” you mock him.
A giddy smile breaks out on his face before he lowers himself on top of your body and hugs you tightly. You can hear him giggling right next to your ear, clearly happy that his assumption was wrong.
Regardless of your feelings for him, you'd never disregard your commitments. He is your fiance and you plan to be loyal to him, not shamelessly gawking at some other person or start an affair. Besides, you have no interest in anyone else anyway.
----------
And he'd like to keep it that way. Naoki plants multiple kisses on your cheek and neck, taking in your seductive natural scent.
Oh how it turns him on. Your scent, your body, your personality, your… everything. He lifts his bottom half up slightly, not allowing the bulge forming in his pants from making contact with you. He'd very much like to rip off this thin material you’ve dared to wear, to touch you in places you’ve never been touched, and mark all of his territory, but he can't risk scaring you.
Of course, no one would dare assume scaring you is an easy feat, but Naoki isn't as stupid as he–well, he is stupidly in love with you but he's not naive. He knows you don't take too kindly to extreme measures. Especially coming from him, seeing as you've been on guard with him ever since his personality took a 180.
Like how after the ball, he had secretly cornered the Duke of Elsie. He beat that man black and blue with a cane before dragging him off to hang his body by stabbing his limbs onto very sharp stakes. Oh, and just before that poor man lost his conscience, Naoki captured his bird and held it with two hands in front of the bleeding man. With a devious smile, Naoki snapped the bird into two. And the smile dropped as quickly as the snap that bird made.
Of course, Naoki had cleaned up the mess and erased any evidence that would implicate him. No one will question about the Duke of Elsie for a while, but he'll have to convince you to avoid the east garden for now. The gardeners have yet to get rid of the faceless rotting corpse, since it's feeding the little animals quite well.
For now, he'll simply work on training his beloved to make eye contact with him more often. The more you look at him, the less he'll assume you're looking at someone else. Okay? Mwaah <3
