blush pink 1930's ostrich glamour boudoir lounging robe
You are cute, smart, and have one man in your sights. Ransom Drysdale.
He may have met his match in you, Minx.
Coercion
Ransom thinks he has the upper hand, but he’s met his match.
Marshmallow World
Just how soft is Ransom for you? He shows it. In his way.
All These Things And More
Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy.
brb, about 2 go find a rich ceo to marry just so i can have super cute bachelorette and bride accessories 🐩
mariacarla boscono @ roberto cavalli s/s 2003
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . dilf!eren fucking you whenever and wherever he wants. ₊ ⊹ . ݁
౨ৎ ⋆。˚dilf!eren who is the kind of man who turns heads without even trying. standing at an impressive six foot two inches, tattoos inked delicately across warm olive skin. his athletic build a testament to years of dedicated workouts and an active lifestyle. his chiseled jawline, adorned with just the right amount of stubble, framed a face that could easily belong on the cover of a fashion magazine. deep-set, piercing green eyes seeming to hold a thousand stories. his tousled hair giving him a rugged, yet sophisticated look.
when he became a dad, all of that doubled. his effortlessly good looks were now complemented by a softer, more nurturing side that made him even more irresistible. the way he had cradled your newborn daughter in his strong arms, the gentle way he kissed her forehead.
unfortunately, your husband becoming a dilf meant other women's gazes also doubling. it was something you had come to expect, but it didn't make it any easier. you could see the way that they glanced at him when he would pick up your daughter from preschool, eyes lingering a little too long, smiles too friendly.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚ dilf!eren who's always making sure his babygirl is set, he often sent you money without you even having to ask, ensuring that you and your daughter never want for anything. "just looking out for my pretty little ladies."
౨ৎ ⋆。˚dilf!eren who can't seem to keep his hands to himself when your parents are over in the next room visiting. hand clamped over your mouth as he feeds you his thick girth inch by inch, the stretch sending your eyes rolling back. "gotta be quiet baby, don't be rude." he's evil. fluidly rolling his pulsating cock into that spongy part that has you grasping the sheets.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚ dilf!eren who loves the way you moan when he eats your pussy with his stubble, the way the short hairs prick you, making the sensation of him all the more better. he loves the way he makes you whimper when he pushes your thick thighs flush to your chest and nips your clit hard, making you buck and writhe under his lips and tongue. he loves how you taste, salty and sweet at the same time and the way your body quakes and shudders underneath him. he loves you.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚dilf!eren who fucks you stupid against the kitchen counter as you prep your daughter's after-school snack, cheek pressed against the cold granite, hands scrabbling for purchase. "m'so hungry." but eren's not hungry for food.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚dilf!eren who forgets you're a milf, jealously coursing through him as he watches the man next door flirt with you while you garden. it's nothing but cruel when he fucks you into the sofa, making sure the window is open and your neighbor is outside to hear you being ravaged.
he makes it extra filthy when he bends you over the back of the couch, facing the window, slapping your ass until it holds the color of your tomato plants. the whole neighborhood can probably hear you sobbing with pleasure, the way his name falls from your lips. he knows what he has and the jealousy makes him all the more possessive, he wants the whole world to know that you are his.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚dilf!eren who is always trying to get you pregnant again, fucking you until his sticky cum bubbles from your hole.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚dilf!eren who wouldn't trade being cuddled in bed with his two favorite girls, watching a movie with popcorn, for anything.
find more daddy eren here *ੈ✩‧₊˚
cw: canon typical mind games, baby trapping/pregnancy, manipulation, reader’s emotionally constipated, tashi’s injury, cunnilingus, cockwarming, tit fucking, established tashi & patrick (there’s no feelings between them but they stay together for reader in the beginning), lactation, not rlly smut focused despite the tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, ambiguous baby daddy (even though the ending can be read a certain way), one mention of patrick x art, afab reader, there’s a thought about you being injured but it’s not serious, small time skip (?) type thing and implied future pregnancies, purposefully vague/unreliable narrator vibes
patrick and art’s descriptions are heavily insp. by these posts
consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip if you enjoyed!
They never tell you that Tashi got injured on purpose. She’s too good to fall victim to what plagues so many athletes, but you don’t know that. You, her assumed rival and yet also the poster child of sportsmanship. Rivalry can bring out affection in people, it can highlight the need for someone who can understand you better than anyone else possibly could. You’ve never been anything but soft and sweet, but you can still summon the lightning streaking across the sky in your eyes when the game begins. There’s a glow around you that Tashi craves like a moth craves the shadow behind the light they fly into.
Tashi’s fall from her pedestal was painful and the hardest decision she’s ever made, but for the first time she made it for love. The set up was the easiest part, but now she has to actually make the serve. And she can’t do it alone, she’d be stupid to be blind to how her boyfriend and his best friend’s stares linger. What she and Patrick shared fizzled out a while ago, but if she lets him go, then that signs her up for a battle she’d rather avoid. Sometimes pleasure can be derived from depriving an animal of the chance to kill rather than setting it free and giving it an opportunity to go after you first.
Who knows, maybe someday you and her can share matching injuries.
Luckily, Patrick shares the same sentiment, quickly agreeing to the arrangement and plan when he visited prior to the injury. Art’s good at downplaying his toxicity, so Tashi wasn’t concerned about if he could play the part of a “worried friend”. You’ll bust into the office while she’s getting checked out to see Art there, and the infatuation you've been harboring for him will keep you in place. The queen on the chessboard who can’t really move however they please at all. Patrick will return in a “rush to see his girlfriend”, and you’ll be too intrinscingly intertwined in their web to cut yourself loose.
You weren’t the one she was playing against, but because of your “friendship” you’re there in the audience when it all goes down. The shock of something career ending happening to someone who had the most potential of anyone you’d ever seen is staggering.
You practically run to see if Tashi’s okay, and the disappointment that you might never play with her again is palpable. But she’ll be fine, you tell yourself, she has to be.
Art has already left by the time you get to the room she’s in, doing one of his parts of the plan and allowing Tashi to put everything into motion. He’s waiting nearby, running his hands through his hair as he imagines all the ways he can comfort you. Because you will need comforting later, and your future husband knows the best remedies for your incoming sadness.
You’re standing gobsmacked in front of her bandaged knee, a confirmation that this is really it. You shrug off your bag and let it slide down your arm to the cold floor. Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. You struggle to know what to say as Tashi’s eyes meet yours.
“What am I supposed to do now, huh? My top competitors gone up and left me hanging.” You sigh, trying to keep the kicked puppy look out of your eyes.
She’s in pain and you’re making this about you. But if you and Tashi aren’t bound by Tennis, then what are you bound by. Your friendship doesn’t go beyond the court, so what do you even share now?
There’s no big declarations, no babbling where you word vomit about glad you are that she’s okay. Neither of you are those kinds of people. The energy in the air is dead, but the situation is too serious for awkward small talk. All you two can focus on is what’s ruined, but only one of you can also acknowledge what stands to be gained.
“Take a break, then.” She says plainly, a touch too proud to beg. “For me, I mean who else am I gonna let see me like this?”
That last is an attempt to lighten the mood, to use humor to point out how you’re truly the only person she’d let see her in tatters. Your eyes widen and you freeze, but then you take a seat next to the cot and take her hand. Your smile could destroy the sun, she thinks, and even if the earth was plunged into darkness you’d make it feel like there was nothing to be worried about at all.
“Okay, just for a little bit.” You chuckle and rub her shoulder delicately.
You don’t know what on earth possesses you to say it, but you realize that the absence of a challenge would drive you insane. There’s other reasons for it, ones you’re aware and ones you’re not. But you and Tashi have a way of saying just enough without ever needing to be raw and reveal what you really mean. If there’s a coherent meaning to be found.
“A little bit” ends up being forever, your pregnancies see to that.
Tashi makes Patrick and Art hinge a match solely on who’d get first crack at it; they play so savagely that you’d think they were stray dogs fighting over moldy scraps of food. She’s there when you get morning sickness and she sends the boys out with a list of what you’re currently craving at that moment. She’ll brush your hair and do your skincare for you, rubbing your belly while everyone’s asleep and telling you’re baby that she’d better be their favorite (after you of course).
Tashi takes pride in how she pleases your pussy when you’re too swollen to put in any of the work. She licks broad stripes up your soaked cunt, nipping at your clit and getting you to cream into her mouth in no time at all. She presses sweet little kisses up and down your folds, wishing you could see her love on your pussy properly. They’ve had competitions on who can make you squirt the fastest, and Tashi will never fail to mention that she’s never lost once.
Patrick gets really into cockwarming, getting you nice and settled in his lap. He has to take deep breaths so he doesn’t immediately start thrusting, he knows he has to think about the baby. But the pregnancy has made you impossibly tight, and your hormones make you go crazy for his sweat and natural musk. You’ll whine at him to hover over your head so you suck on his heavy balls. You nag about how he needs to take better care of himself, but you’ve grown to love swallowing his tangy load while you’re suffocating in his pubes.
When that happens depends on how long either of you can hold out, Patrick will tease you about how slutty you’ve been lately and squeeze your face with one hand. His cock will twitch inside of you, snug and strangled. He'll suck Art off till both of their lips are bleeding and you’ll motorboat Tashi’s tits to pass the time. You’ll start swiveling your hips somewhere along the way and his resolve will crumble like it never existed in the first place.
That’s for later though. He fastens the ugly neon cartoonish headphones over your belly and turns on the attached mic, doing storytime with the softest grin on his face.
Art on other hand likes fucking your leaking tits, he loves when drops of milk lube up the slide of his dick in the valley between them. He’ll thumb at your sensitive nipples and flick them, cooing at you when you moan and lap at his cockhead during the split second it reaches your mouths. He’ll look after your breasts outside of the bedroom. He’ll massage them and drain them for you if they’re feeling particularly sore, two of them will be latching on either tit while the third will be sucking on your tongue. His pecs bounce with every languid roll of his hips through the pocket his hands create, and he brings your hands up to them so you’ll grab on and leave scratches.
Art gives you more cum, his literal breeder balls are too big and full, and he’ll bet that he’ll give you more children. His thrusts have a certain punchy rhyme and rhythm to them while Patrick’s are sloppily enthusiastic and feral.
Art picks out supplies for the nursery with you, supporting your vision wholeheartedly and agreeing with every color and stuffed animal you choose. He and Patrick continue with their careers, and Tashi finds a way to coach them both, they need to support you and the new member of their slightly dysfunctional family. Tashi writes up the speech you give when you announce your early and extremely unexpected retirement, and she massages your feet when you collapse on the couch from the sheer emotional exhaustion. Art pecks each of your toes as she does so. Patrick plays tic tac toe against himself in the hollow of your throat.
And when the baby’s born and they can finally see who actually got you knocked up, Tashi says that maybe Patrick will get to be happy that he’s finally won something.
- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or give my works to ai
helmut lang in net mode: web fashion now - laird borrelli (2002)
Summary: Bucky told you that you can’t escape him, but that doesn’t mean you wont try. Too bad for you Bucky enjoys a good chase.
Pairing: Soft Dark mafia!Bucky x reader
Warnings: Slight dub con, allusions to forced marriage, smut, 18+, violence (not towards reader) mentions of death, edging, Buckys pain kink, power kink, breeding kink, reader kicking Steve’s ass
A/N: For @syntheticavenger who wanted to know what happened to the reader from Can’t Run, Can’t Hide. Unbeta’d if you catch an error let me know! Do not copy, repost, rewrite or translate my work, even if you credit it, I do not give my permission for my works to be posted on any other site.
“Boss.”
Bucky pauses, holding the glass to his mouth, the rich bourbon cresting over his lip as his piercing eyes follow your fleeing form on the security monitors.
You stumble across the expansive front yard, heading for the black iron wrought gates at the entrance of his estate. Taking a sip of the rich amber liquid, he swallows, a hint of a wry grin twisting across his face. He finishes his drink,, watching you run further and further from the mansion.
Bucky places his glass on his desk and looks over at your trio of bodyguards. Any hints of amusement fading away, the sharp, knowing look in his eyes making the men cower, he gestures for them to explain why you’re currently halfway across the lawn.
Maximo clears his throat, stepping forward. “Sir if you would let us stop her before she-” He snaps his mouth shut when Bucky quirks a brow. Lowering his voice, he pleads, “Sir, I’m just saying we could prevent her from-”
“Get Steve.” Bucky sharply interrupts.
Maximo’s breath hitches, he opens his mouth but his half-formed protest shrivels on his tongue as Bucky slowly cants his head to the side. He drops his eyes to the floor, mumbling. “Yes, Sir.”
Bucky dismisses them with a flick of his hand, turning back to the monitors, tracking your every movement. Maximo storms into the hallway, your other two guards close behind. He hits the wall with the side of his fist, hissing under his breath. “I told her to wait. If she would listen to me for once. Damn it.”
What good is a bodyguard if you won’t let him protect you?
After the door swing shuts, Bucky loosens his tie and shrugs off his suit jacket. Settling in his leather chair, he watches you run past the hedges. He slowly unzips his pants as you scramble over a shrub, stopping when your gown catches on a branch. He takes his hardening cock out of his boxers while you rip the bottom of the expensive lace to set yourself free.
Keep reading