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#but nonetheless a treat for thought
3vocatio · 1 year
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i love how awful simeon is, not that it's attractive in any sense because it's horrendous how he rejects anything that will lead to confronting himself, but because it's interesting and it surprises me how it's not more spoken of. something so human and something that plays into the reason why solomon told diavolo that he doesn't fit into the storybook role of a perfect celestial realm angel back in season 2.
in his first birthday event, no one amongst the cast batted an eye when he tricked the brothers into practicing the virtues that they had as angels, nor did anyone notice how he mirrored them by indulging in their respective sins. no one questioned why he never spoke much about himself since season one. without a clear goal, the concept of kindness is simply the absence of cruelty for simeon. a passerby, a bystander, because that has been his role since the celestial war.
knowing this and that simeon is an author, it's curious how he seems to assign roles to everyone in his life, and adopt their traits to fill the places that he lacks. that way, he can find parts of himself in them, just as a creator does with their original characters.
but he cannot figure out what role solomon or barbatos play in his story, and it's why he is relentlessly frustrated and intimidated by what they have to say.
they haunt him, because they represent the reality.
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sandflakedraws · 6 months
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my 'u should play ghost trick' propaganda starts now
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potatoeofwisdom · 10 months
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im having fun
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olivegardenhunter · 16 days
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also not that anyone asked (or cares) but I want to make clear that while I do ship tsunade and jiraiya, I also wholeheartedly ship tsunade and dan. idk why a lot of people treat these two ships as one or the another and hate the other side rather than like both being something that can occur together. my main reasoning for this is I simply don't subscribe to the whole "one and only love forever and ever and can never move on" notion that Kishi himself loves so much. I like to think tsunade, while still holding a place for dan in her heart till she dies, would've ultimately been able to move on romantically from him. but not necessarily want to go out of her way to find someone else. and then comes jiraiya who after many years apart they begin to repair their relationship. and he's the only person left around that knows her deeply. and I don't see why she couldn't have started to develop feelings for him, just ones she wouldn't admit to. and I think many people like to think it's cause of the love she holds for dan she doesn't want to explore those feelings. and that's true to an extent imo. but more importantly it's cause she genuinely believes her love is cursed. and also that loving someone again would risk her losing someone close to her again. but anyway I like to think she did start falling for him in the end, whether she admits it to herself or not, but this does NOT mean she suddenly is completely over dan and don't love him anymore. I think grief and mourning is complicated and it's simply not true her loving someone new would mean she no longer loved him. they didn't break up after all, he died, it's so different. idk, to me I just don't think it's unrealistic for her to love someone new, while still knowing dan was who her heart really truly belonged to. so tldr I like jiratsu but I also love dantsuna and I'm sick of people pretending both ships can't coexist I guess.
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snekdood · 5 months
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im just gonna say im mediterranean and call it a day
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leatherbookmark · 1 year
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reading undead's tvtropes page and wow one of the contributors must have REALLY disliked koga
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voidoffline · 22 days
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I’m gonna start needing to put more disclaimers in my art arnt I?
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wonder-worker · 6 months
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What are your favorite Plantagenet-related novels, and why do you love them?
Hi! I'm so sorry, I don't read lots of medieval English historical fiction, and the ones I have read are pretty terrible (three guesses which).
Once again: sorry! If anyone else has any recommendations, feel free to share them!
#ask#I've heard that Sharon Kay Penman's Plantagenet trilogy is pretty good? I haven't read it though so I can't say#'The Sunne in Splendour' (Penman's WotR book) was absolutely terrible though#It has all the hallmarks of a classic Ricardian novel. It IS one of the classic Ricardian novels I think?#Richard is an entirely innocent selfless righteous man with a glorious and divinely-blessed reign who's the victim in every situation#Isabel Neville was treated awfully. Margaret of Anjou was treated awfully#Elizabeth Woodville was somehow treated worse than both of them combined and was ridiculously sexualized on top of it#Penman's tagline for her should've honestly been 'You thought THIS character was bad? Never fear - Elizabeth Woodville is 10x worse!'#The book goes out of its way to emphasize how she was the worst thing to ever happen to England; how the Woodvilles made the 1450s look#like 'petty squabbling'; how Elizabeth made Margaret of Anjou look like a 'veritable saint by comparison'#also I distinctly remember her own husband yelling at her that she would sleep with a leper if it meant her becoming queen#This line just about sums it up: 'Warwick doubted there had ever been a Queen as little liked as the woman Edward had taken as his wife'#I'm like 99% sure that Cersei Lannister was primarily based off Penman's Elizabeth. The similarities are uncanny#Though Cersei is nonetheless treated better and given infinitely more depth than Elizabeth was - that's how badly she was depicted#I want to call her a Disney villain on steroids but frankly that would be inaccurate because even they are given more respect#I was always interested in Elizabeth but this book was one of the main reasons I became so defensive of her#What else...?#Penman's characterizations of Thomas Gray and Edward of Lancaster were pretty on par with classic Ricardian novels so I wasn't surprised#(though I will say that despite Edward of Lancaster being treated terribly he was still afforded more depth and sympathy than Thomas was)#What did surprise me was the fact that she wrote ANTHONY WOODVILLE as a violent scheming thug. Yes really#Honestly anyone remotely related to the Woodvilles is portrayed as cartonnishly evil#And EDWARD V oh god. This 12-year old kid is depicted as a cold cruel capricious tyrant who's more Woodville than royal (classism anyone?)#I'm 99% sure Joffrey Baratheon was based off Penman's portrayal of him. His dynamic with Elizabeth certainly matches Cersei's with Joffrey'#... anyway this rant has nothing to do with anon's question#sorry
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ereh-emanresu-tresni · 6 months
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augustameretrix · 8 months
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yknow those ostensibly feminist arguments about women "turning into men" or "acting like men" or "adopting masculine values" instead of embracing their femininity and upholding their feminine values as if the former is behavior is well within the confines of patriarchy while the latter isn't
my question is what ARE those feminine values? where did they come from? because unless they're let's say something essential to women they must have a history, they must've come from somewhere at some point. and where and when is that if not the very same institutionalized patriarchy which needs men AND women to act upon and in turns needs men AND women to perpetrate it? doesnt this make them as much as masculine values a product of patriarchy and so equally patriarchal? if not in and of themselves then certainly as the two distinct and complementary sets of "masculine values" and "feminine values"
if we say that going to work vs staying at home are the patriarchal paradigm then staying at home certainly inst inherently less patriarchal and more feminist than going at work. of course each of those behavior is patriarchal insomuch as it is part of the paradigm, so women doing one or the other is kinda irrelevant as long as the goddamn paradigm continues to exist.
so why do some feminists complain that women act the way the patriarchy typically wants their men to act ("mannish"/"unladylike") and that they should instead act the way the patriarchy typically wants their women to act? like hello do we hear ourselves?
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peachypinkygloss · 10 months
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cherry — jjk
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Jungkook has a crush on you and he does everything to conquer your heart (like eating your pussy whenever and wherever he feels like it).
⚡︎ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
⚡︎ genre: friends with benefits to lovers, college au, smut
⚡︎ word count: 2.9k
⚡︎ warnings: pussy drunk jk because there's no way he wouldn't be, jk's a simp, they're kinda corny but whatever i like that about them, public sex, unprotected sex, oral (f & m), cunnilingus, handjob, overstimulation, cum eating.
a.n.: jk in a tank + hooded jacket has me acting up bruh, quick put me in jail ‼️ literally wrote this in one night send help. as always, don't thank me 💋 please, tell me if you liked it or not 🫶
"Stop..." You whine, gripping his hair in your fists. "Jungkookie!" You insist even more as you try to push his head away from the area between your legs, but Jungkook doesn't budge an inch. You squirm around and cry pathetically, but it doesn't alert him at all.
He keeps licking and slurping until no arousal is left, but more always comes out of your hole, so he continues and continues... Oh, you wonder how this man can be so hungry even after eating the whole plate he ordered. You told him to not follow you into the bathroom, but Jungkook never listens, does he?
You pull on his black locks and the only answer you receive is a disapproval grunt from him. You sob, so overwhelmed and tired, but you can't deny how good his tongue feels on your naked core.
He already got two orgasms out of you, one with his fingers patting gently your sweet spot and the other by sucking avidly on your clit. You don't remember which one came first and maybe they both happened at the same time. You don't really know.
You're so overstimulated, but his lips wrapped around your sensitive bud have you over the edge again. It hurts badly good. Does it even make sense? Whatever, it makes sense to you.
You two hooking up in a bathroom while your friends are waiting outside is bad, while having Jungkook's head between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man is good. A little too good.
You place a hand behind you on the counter, the other holding tightly his hair in your fist, not caring if you pull too harshly. If his scalp stings, it's in no comparison to the heavy pulsations in your clit.
"Jungkook, fuck," you curse, throwing your back against the wall, just beside the mirror. "God, this is too much!" You yelp and close your legs, pushing his head away from your drenched pussy.
He doesn't fight back and he peeks out from between your thighs, looking up at you. Your heart skips a beat when you see his face and how messy he looks because of you.
His lips and chin are glistening in your juices, tongue darting out to lick them clean. Some of his curls are broken, hair tousled around, and you really can tell you were pulling on them seconds ago. Just the thought that his face was buried between your legs, insanely making out with your cunt, makes your stomach clench.
How can he be so passionate about something that isn't even his? He's really trying hard to make you fall in love with him and you have to admit he's doing good so far. If dating Jungkook means receiving head everyday you might stop rejecting him and consider letting him have a chance.
But you don't feel like it right now, even though he's treating you like a real princess. Being chased is really fun, you're about to become addicted to that treatment.
"Just a little bit more, okay, baby? Just another one, let me do that, please," he begs, but in the end he always does whatever he wants to you. You rarely say no to him and his filthy mouth, and even if you would say no, you doubt he would listen.
"My clit will fall out," you sigh, so weak against his pleas. Nonetheless, you slowly pull your legs apart, revealing your core to him again, totally at the mercy of his insatiable hunger.
He looks at your crotch, pouting slightly, showing a bit of compassion. But him having pity for you doesn't mean he'll stop, oh no, not at all.
"Don't say that," he scolds, staring at your swollen clit. "It'll feel really good, I promise, baby," he coos and you can only believe him. He softly blows on your sensitive bud, making you flinch, and a smug smirk appears on his face.
"Okay..." You capitulate, gasping when his mouth finds its spot on your pussy a second time.
On the other hand, there are your nipples, hard and puffy, wanting Jungkook's attention badly. You wish he would focus on something else than your cunt, but he's stubborn and when he wants something, he has it.
You play with your nipples through the material of your dress since you decided to not wear a bra today. You pinch and pull on them, moaning sweetly as the knot at the pit of your stomach tightens with Jungkook's ministrations.
His strong and veiny hands hold up your thighs while he enters and exits your pussy with his sturdy tongue, his big nose brushing against your clit so deliciously.
You can't believe he uses his nose voluntarily, actually knowing it's doing something, unlike most men who literally have no idea what they are doing with their hands and mouth. Jungkook is so passionate about cunnilingus, you're lucky to have him, honestly.
"Close," you warn him hurriedly, scrunching your eyes shut as you feel your high approaching really soon. It's going to be intense, you sense it. It burns in your belly, it twists and it tightens, making you go crazy over Jungkook's mouth. "Fuck, Kookie, please!"
You rub your pussy in his face and he groans deeply, appreciating your enthusiasm for his incredible skills. He hears you and fastens the pace of his tongue, moving his head from side to side, his nose pressing against your clit.
Your orgasm shoots through you and you moan out your pleasure, cumming hard on Jungkook's tongue. He hums contently as your thighs shake beside his head, his hand palming your soft flesh, leaving beautiful marks behind.
You come down from your high, letting out a long sigh, totally pleased with what just happened. He licks you clean, collecting your arousal on his tongue and drinking it as if it was pure water.
He stands up when he's finished, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You look absolutely dead, which is understandable after Jungkook just forced three orgasms out of your poor body.
He looks satisfied, and you wonder if he's still hungry. He probably is, which would be insane, but what's not crazy with this man.
He doesn't waste time before he's kissing you sensually, tasting yourself on his tongue, fighting for dominance as you let him have it. After all, you're too tired to fight for anything.
Though you're exhausted, the bulge in his pants catches your attention. He presses it against you and you feel it really clearly, erected and hard just for you.
You break the kiss, trying to catch your breath as you slide off the countertop. "What do we do about that?" You purr, sneaking a hand between your two bodies and reaching his hard cock trapped in his jeans.
He hisses, grabbing your wrist as if to remove your hand, but he keeps it there, even though he's really sensitive. "We leave it as it is," he says seriously and you frown, a pout forming on your lips.
"Oh, don't be a gentleman, Kook," you reply quickly, determined to return the favour. "Let me suck your dick, please. I'll be such a good girl," you insist and he can't refuse you.
"I'm all yours, then," he grins, letting go of your wrist.
You push him against the nearest wall and you drop on your knees instantly. Your bones hitting the floor tile isn't gentle, but you'll suffer through any pain if it means sucking this pretty man's dick. Right, maybe you're a little whipped for Jungkook, but that doesn't mean anything. Or does it...?
You stroke him over his pants, feeling his length and his girth under all those pieces of clothes. You extend your arm to reach the zipper of his hooded jacket, tugging it down open. You look up at him while doing so, noticing his tongue toying with his lip piercing. He's focused on your movements, watching your hands on him as if it's a movie, wanting to remember each second of it.
You go under his white tank top, running your delicate fingers over his abs, loving the feeling of his muscles under your palm. They tense a little bit at your contact and you can't help but smile, enjoying how much Jungkook isn't indifferent to your touch at all.
"Stop playing," he breathes out, wanting you to get your hands on what's really aching right now.
"I'm sorry," you apologize in a low tone, even though you don't really feel bad for him. He gave you three orgasms one after the other without listening to your complaints, didn't he?
You finally free his cock out, this one springing out excitedly, standing tall against his stomach. Jungkook releases a breath of relief, burying his tattooed fingers in your hair by reflex. You don't mind the pulling, you love it, in fact. It tells you he's enjoying himself and it reminds you he still has control over your actions.
"You know what happens to bad girls, sweetheart," he says and it sounds like a warning. A quite exciting warning, you won't lie. "Make me proud and act good," Jungkook orders from above, your eyes up on him as you nod your head in response.
Your gaze shifts down to his hard cock, slightly curved with a vein along it. You lick your lips, now understanding the hunger Jungkook felt when he had your pussy in his face. The eagerness to please him is real.
You wrap your fingers around him, liking how stiff he feels under your palm, and put his leaking tip into the warmth of your mouth. "Ah, fuck," he curses under his breath, his head rolling back and hitting the wall behind. He closes his eyes, feeling every inch of his length that enters your mouth. "So fucking good."
As he praises you like you're nothing less than a goddess, you swallow his dick, exactly the way he likes it, the way he showed you. You breathe through your nose, Jungkook being specially big for your mouth, but you surely won't give up so soon.
You said you'll pay him back and you stick to your words. Especially after those fantastic orgasms he gave you tonight.
You palm gently his balls — which he's really sensitive to — while you start bobbing your head over him. Your eyes are quick to water and you blink to pry the tears away, unbothered if your makeup gets smudged. You hear deep moans and groans from Jungkook, telling how good you're being.
You keep your tongue flat underneath him and hollow your cheeks to maximize his pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding your head over his cock as he watches it disappear and reappear between your lips.
He's entirely coated in your spit, length glistening under the bathroom's lights as you bounce your head over him. The situation feels really filthy and the fact that you're in a restaurant, your friends probably wondering what's taking you both so long, is making everything more arousing.
Jungkook didn't even hesitate when he discreetly followed you to the toilet, locking the door before sneaking his large hands under the skirt of your dress. You've let him touch you, let him sit you down on the sink counter, let him slide your panties off. And you don't regret it.
You're even grateful he followed you because now you have to listen to his beautiful moans like it's a melody and suck his dick like it's a cherry lollipop — your favourite.
"Let me... Let me," he rasps out, swallowing to ease his dried throat. You glance up at him when you hear him begin to talk, wondering what he has to say. "Ask you out on a date," he finishes and the lopsided smile on his face has your stomach fluttering.
You pull him out with a 'pop', stroking his wet cock as you collect your thoughts. Is he really asking you out right now? As you're sucking the soul out of him?
"Aren't we already on a date?" You wonder, knowing it's not the answer he wants. You're just not totally ready to give a response to that, not even think about it. You prefer to avoid, prefer to tease.
He frowns cutely, passing his fingers through your tangled hair. He wets his pink lips and looks at you as he reflects, shaking his head. "This isn't a date," he replies. "I want to be with you, only you, baby."
He's referring to your night out with your friends, explaining a real date will be you as his only company. He sounds sure of himself, completely convinced that what he wants and needs is a date with you.
Somewhere you'd choose because he believes the place doesn't matter as long as you're happy with it. Somewhere he can learn more about you, more about your personality and the people you love. He wants to get to know you, know how much sugar you put in your coffee and know if you take your shower in the morning or at night.
He wants to know the simple and the difficult things.
Everything. He wants you to tell him everything about you because he's absolutely in love. Stupidly, drunkly in love with you.
"I want to know you," he confesses and you swear your heart just did a jump in your chest.
"You know me more than anybody else, Jungkook," you flirt, smiling as you stroke him gently, elongating the pleasure. "In every way and angle possible."
It makes him chuckle, his eyes blown out in lust. He shows his cute bunny teeth, a smile you realize you don't want to lose — yes, even when giving him a handjob.
"Let me have my chance, you won't regret it," Jungkook promises, his thumb passing over your cheek, leaving your poor heart incredulous, but still wanting to believe every single word that escapes his mouth.
You don't respond right away, a bit lost in your own thoughts. You've only said good things about Jungkook since you started hooking up and all of your girlfriends are team Jungkook since the beginning. You've even lost the count of his green flags.
Maybe you should let yourself be more vulnerable and be open with him about your feelings. You realize that all this time the one you weren't trusting with your emotions was you, not him.
"I'll fuck you right every day, you'll just have to ask," he adds on and you roll your eyes playfully, smiling at his silly words. "Even on the week-ends. Especially Sunday," he smirks, saying everything to convince you, even what seems stupid because at this point, he knows you've already fell for him.
You swallow him in a swift motion, lubricating his cock more as there was a bit less saliva left on him. You pull out and start pumping him again.
"Why Sundays?" At your question he grins even more, as if he knows his answer will please you.
"Because it's the day of the week you hate the most," he explains, biting down on his bottom lip as the knot in his stomach begins to tighten. "Gonna make it the one you love the most."
You can't help but grin back, connecting your gaze with him. You break eye-contact to tilt your head down and take him back into your mouth. He takes a hold of your hair again and his grip is rough, making your scalp burn.
You whine around him, sucking him like there's no tomorrow. He quickly comes close to his high, saying a bunch of profanity under his breath. He directs the movements of your head, making you take all of him at once, then sliding back up to just have the tip in your mouth.
"Shit, baby," he slurs out, wet curly bangs covering his forehead. His big brown eyes don't leave you, watching you like you're a living piece of art. "Gonna cum, don't stop," he announces and you doubt you'll stop with his hand behind your head, controlling each one of your moves.
You hum around him and place your hands on his strong thighs, sensing his muscles tensing up as he comes undone in you. He steadies your head over him, nose pressed down on his shaved pelvis.
He softly moans, pink lips parting to let the sounds out. He fills your mouth up with his cum, cock twitching as he spills everything he can in you.
He carefully slips out of your mouth and you don't wait to swallow everything before sticking your tongue out to prove him. He smiles, patting your head gently. "What a good girl," he compliments, satisfied with your instant obedience.
You stand up on sore legs as Jungkook stuff himself back in his pants, pulling the zipper of his jeans up. He replaces his tank top over his stomach, covering the band of his Calvin Klein boxers that peaks out.
He brings you closer to him by the waist and you giggle, playing with his silver chain he wears around his neck. "What do you say?"
You sigh, pretending like he annoys you, but your smile totally betrays you. "One date," you accept and he's about to kiss you, but you stop him before he can. "But I chose where we go... and you can't follow me to the bathroom anymore!"
Jungkook chuckles, cupping your jaw and giving you a kiss on the lips. "Deal." As you're about to go back to your table, he hands you something and your eyes widen when you see your panties. "Don't forget that, I'm the only one allowed to see what's under that pretty dress."
You take back your underwear, stepping into the holes then sliding them up your legs. "Shut up," you quickly say before exiting the bathroom, Jungkook behind you.
.
.
.
Do not ask for a part 2.
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tender-rosiey · 6 months
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hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤
strain — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)
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you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.
however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.
but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.
you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.
the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!
so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.
after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.
a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.
not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.
your husband has an abundance of energy.
but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.
his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.
he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.
but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.
he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.
he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.
he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”
you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”
while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”
you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.
then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”
he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.
you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.
but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.
he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.
instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”
you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”
he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”
perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.
you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.
reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.
he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.
you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.
satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.
you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.
he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”
“I know…”
“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”
you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“
“you could’ve died.”
you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.
your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”
your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”
a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”
“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.
“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”
his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.
a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”
“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.
“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.
you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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koenigami · 6 months
Note
not sure if you allow it, but how does wriothesly react when the reader uses their safe word during an intense session?
tags : fem!reader, smut, crying, use of safeword, aftercare, comfort, +18
It's hot in the room, the constant gurgling of the pipes reminding you that WRIOTHESLEY must have turned up the heating higher than usual. Then why is your body shivering, with goosebumps all over your skin? You can't see him, can't hear him because he has barely talked to you ever since he's returned from his office. Yet you feel his large, intimidating form loom over your body from behind. You can't speak, can barely breathe with his constricting hand around your throat that somehow seems to get tighter by every passing second.
He's immune to your whimpers, to the tears rolling down your cheeks. With each forceful thrust of his, you hear the bed creak and feel your knees get weaker, your body loosing strength until you're nothing but a limp toy for him. You want to get up, push him away, but the grip his other hand has on your wrists while holding them behind your back- He's just too strong.
That's when even the last ounce of pleasure leaves your body and you're left with nothing but dread and panic. "Red, p-please." you barely recognise your own voice, hoarse and frightened. "No more, please, red."
The pressure on your windpipes is gone instantly. You realise it, not by the oxygen that is easier entering your airways, no, because you still feel like you're suffocating. You realise it because his warmth is as well gone in an instant. W-Where did he go?
Rough hands are all over your body, yet they treat you with so much care, helping you turn and lie on your back, soothing down your thighs. One of them at last settles on your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing it and wiping the tears away. "Y/n? Sweetheart, you with me?"
You sniffle and press the heels of your palms against your eyes, your chest shaking with more sobs that won't stop racking your body. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I-I don't even know-"
"No, no, don't apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for." Your brain still feels foggy as you finally look over at Wriothesley who's crouching beside the bed, giving you enough space to breathe yet still having his hands all over you, not wanting to let you go. Nonetheless, you're able to notice the tension in his posture, in his facial expressions. "Just try to relax, alright? You're okay now." his hand shifts to your hair, fingers combing through the messy strands until they settle on your scalp, soothingly massaging you there. "You did good. It was too much, wasn't it?"
"Couldn't breathe." you whisper and realise that you feel so small in his presence, but not in an inferior way. Wriothesley may look all brutish and intimidating with a strength that could crush any allegedly impenetrable door in the fortress, but you're well aware that he would never use that strength against people that he cares about. "And, uhm-"
Piercing blue eyes watch as you nervously fiddle with the blanket that he has covered you with. But the little peck he gives you on your shoulder tells you that he wants to let you have a breather and take as much time as you need to sort your thoughts. "You seemed a-angry. You were so quiet and, I don't know. It was..."
"Scary?" he finishes for you, a gentle and reassuring smile plastered on his face that alleviates the pressure on your chest.
"Yeah."
Silence invades the bedroom for a short moment, making you forget that you're miles beneath the water surface, that the room which you share with him belongs to a prison, that a few moments prior your body has been in a fight-or-flight mode. The silence reminds you that you're safe and that all of this, all of him, is home. "Will you come back to bed? And hold me?"
Wriothesley's eyes soften at your request and the timid sound of your voice. "Of course, my love." His knees pop when he eventually gets up, pressing a fleeting kiss on your temple before he picks his pants up from the floor and puts them on. Despite the previous events, you can't help but feel a light heat creep up your neck when you get a sight of his naked buttocks.
"Careful with those wandering eyes. I might think you want to continue where we left off." Wriothesley chuckles when you pull the blanket over your head, a futile attempt to hide your embarrassed expression.
"Come here." the mattress dips beside you and you let him tug the blanket off your head. The warmth and smell of his make you sigh in contentment once he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm the one who should apologise. I was not aware of how much I was hurting you."
The teasing smirk and brief leisurely attitude are gone, replaced by a seriousness that you usually only get to see when he's handling work related matters. He kisses your face again and again, further silent apologies that he hopes will lessen the pain inside your chest. And his. "I was a little irritated, yes, but that had nothing to do with you. Some inmates got their hands on a few bottles of wine." he explains. "Those drunkards started spewing lots of nonsense when I confronted them about it."
What did they say?" you inquire quietly, your eyes slowly but surely feeling heavier. With a palm against his naked chest, you notice the rapid heartbeat but decide to not give it any mind, since Wriothesley's tender strokes along your back are truly not making it easy for you to stay awake and think straight.
He stops his movements for a short moment, clenching and unclenching his fist as his eyes trail over the red, irritated skin of his knuckles.
"Your grace has turned quite soft." "Your little mouse must be doing a great job in bed, huh?" "Why don't you lend her to us? I'm sure we could teach her a thing or two?"
"Nothing you should worry your head about." his voice is merely a whisper as his lips move against your forehead before he buries his nose in your hair and resumes to trace more soothing shapes on your lower back.
a/n : thank you for your patience, dear anon! hope you'll see this since your request has been sitting for a while in my inbox-
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ivyblossom · 3 months
Text
I Have Become a Crow Friend.
It started because I commute to work on an e-scooter, and a couple of crows had started to fly along side me. I mean close, maybe two feet from from my face. I know this isn't unusual behaviour for a crow, but for me it's magical. I am flying with crows! I presume they're gliding in my wake and it's fun for them, because they started to do it every morning. I wanted them to know that I admire them and want good things for them, so I started to travel with a bag of unsalted, unshelled peanuts. When I got to the end of the road where they glide with me, I stop and leave some peanuts on the grass for them, and then I continue on my journey.
Well, they certainly know who I am now, and so does their extended family. They get my attention in a number of ways. Sometimes they will fly directly in front of my scooter, and I fear I'm going to hit them, but I don't, because they know what they're doing. They will fly in my eye line and land in a place where I can't miss them. There is one set of cousins down the road who thought shouting at me and waiting for me to come out of a building would be a good idea, but I did not reward that, and it hasn't happened since. They don't normally shout at me, they just flirt with me by flying with me, being beautiful in my presence, and giving me the eye. Then I give them treats.
One day I couldn't ride my e-scooter because of the weather so I walked my route. I traded my usual blue coat for a warmer red one with the hood up, and no orange helmet. I figured my crow friends would ignore me, since I am no longer a wheeled creature with blue feathers and an orange head. But no: they know who I am. They know the scooter is a vehicle that I ride, they know the coat and the helmet are things I'm wearing. My crow friends recognize my face. I know this totally normal behaviour for crows, but I am honoured by it nonetheless.
I always talk them. I greet them. I warn them about weather that's coming. I ask them how they're doing. My ultimate goal is to have them talk back to me, which I know they are fully capable of doing. And one day maybe the crows in this area will spot people walking alone in the woods and will shout out, "Hello, friend!" and freak them the fuck out. That's the kind of legacy I'm after. My quest continues.
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enbesbians · 15 days
Text
‘STRAWBERRY KISSES’
sub/top!a. anderson x dom/bottom!reader
cw: tribbing, ejaculating strapon (r. receiving), breeding kink, squirting, dove fucking, scent kink, r. is a parent, standing oral, slight impact play/face slapping (a. receiving), asphyxiation, lactation
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MINORS DNI
summary: “real cowgirls ride pussy” and that’s exactly what abby did. who would’ve thought a respected farmer could be a pathetic slut? muscly, big and strong, all to be treated like a fucktoy under your hands.
a/n: this fic is by far one of the most lackluster fics ive probably written. it’s not that great in my opinion and i feel as though it ran in circles… i had been hesitant to post this for some time and had no clue how to end it so it’s a bit abrupt. this fic is almost just pure smut… really long and i over did it just a tad… id also like to apologize… it’s probably so all over the place… it’s been a long while since ive written anything and i don’t think this fic is as great as i tried to make it. nonetheless, i hope you end up enjoying.
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that pretty girl abby in her cowboy hat, in those tight blue jeans that hugged her thighs just right, muscles bulging from its fabric and a rusted silver big buckled belt with roses carved into its metal, stood in front of your doorstep. the tap of her heel at your wooden porch with a smile that wore prettily across her lips, crate in hand full of fresh produce hand grown by her. corn, strawberries, apricots and tomatoes, all plump and in season. it was a surprise being greeted by her on your second day moving in. yeah there were others from the town who said their hi’s and goodbyes, some with buttered biscuits or a fresh lemon meringue pie that hadn’t been that well made came to welcome you too, but with her, it was different.
it wasn’t often to see a woman of her stature walking around the city you used to live in— she was built, big and broad, back confidently raised tall in a shirt that ripped at its sleeves showing every vein that ran up her toned freckled, sun kissed arms. on days you’d see her riding horses, galloping as her golden braid fluttered in the thick summer air or even a lasso in hand, things that you saw in movies that you hadn’t even thought twice about. she looked strong and able, independent, attractive, and alluring— even by the sound of her voice contrasting from her strong appearance with a gentle twang in every syllable she spoke.
you were used to the bright neon lights in the night’s city, honking horns and prolonged profanity being thrown back and forth outside of your window to now be surrounded by haybells, horses, clucking chickens and a sun that only ever burned down as if it had been summer year round. the switch was a culture shock and all the country side folk made you feel like you had been living here for years— smiling faces, waves as you rode up into your dirt driveway, seeing all the cows in the distance chewing on the brightest grass you possibly ever saw.
it was nice. through the few months you’ve lived here and growing more accustomed, you made a couple friends along the way. with their boasting charm and positive attitude, you were almost always involved in anything the town had gathered, like being invited to little events in the town— learning the ways of how the people tended their fun; good tasting beer, games and activities you never thought existed or took the time to take part in, like corn bathing or horse shoe throwing. socializing with other mother’s, talking about the shared stress you all experienced or new recipes that you ended up trying to make. even still, you felt a bit out of place at times. your clothes never matching with the attire the others had or their lingo being hard to comprehend, yet the cute accents they spewed whenever they spoke made you giggle warmly. they didn’t seem to mind when you’d ask what they meant when it came to the slang, catching on and using ‘y’all’ as a part of your daily speech. you’d let your kid play amongst other’s their age, finding solace in the open spaces they were able to roam and waddle through— seeing them come home with grass scuffs at the knees of their pants and dirtied palms.
not being too far from abby’s domain, she was well known in the town— inheriting her family’s farm and business as a full time farm worker, handing in fresh fruits, vegetables and cows milk to the monthly market. the anderson’s— you saw it etched in a wooden sign not too far from where you stayed, seeing a red wooden barn out in the distance beside a big pretty white house. she was a woman of business, hands gripping any tool with a grunt that echoed in the air as she puts herself to work.
the day before your initial move in, she saw you and the group of movers helping you gather all the furniture inside with your white summer dress that held against your womanly rounded frame, all frustrated in the face for how hot it had been. she smiled to herself, not seeing many people like you around here. city living people that is. it was adorable. a pretty thing like you didn’t belong in a place like this. filled with dirt and cattle and a body language that didn’t match up to the people that made up of this town— them wearing nothing but flannels and dirtied jeans. the women reeking of cigarettes as the men smelt like cigars all while spitting out peach pits and sunflower seeds.
it was already tradition to grant a new neighbor a gift when they first arrived— nicknacks and baked goods, books, canned food or peanuts. since abby was already getting produce to give to the market in the morning, it was best to give you a taste of what she was good at, wanting to get a real good look at you up close— hear how you talk, admire your body as you moved and see how you’d react to a gesture as big as a big crate of fresh home grown goods. it met all her expectations, seeing the beauty you held within your stare and the exotic nature of your frame, watching your eyes grow wide, replacing that tired and worn expression with a heartfelt one.
thick, sweet and velvety— she told you her name with a curl at the corner of her rose colored lips, tilting the tip of her cowboy hat. her golden hair tied into a tight braid that laid against her freckled shoulder and a hand clasping at her buckle. “it’s nice’ta see a new face round here.” she smiled triumphantly with her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, glazing over you as you held the crate that was once in her hands.
“i couldn’t take all of this.” you scoffed in amazement, noticing how there was not a dimple or bruise in sight on any of the produce.
“there’s not a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit, hon.” she laughed, “it’s a welcomin’ gift. it’s my job to grow all this, don’t want it’ta go all to waste.” noticing how her accent slipped so elegantly as she spoke.
the image of her rested in your mind the entire day, placing all what she gave you in its respectable place, using some for the night’s dinner. it came out rich, juicy and complimented the meat you had made to go alongside it— feeling yourself moan with each bite as your lips drag over the silver of your fork. never have you have something that tasted so good. back home in grocery stores, you were so used to the over produced fruits and vegetables that you never got to taste what produce was really supposed to taste like.
as the days continue and you gave her your millionth thanks for her gift. she replaced her ‘you’re welcome’ with her presence— always being near when she wasn’t busy, coming whenever you needed help. if you needed someone to lift something heavy, there she was, if you needed something from the market, she’d tell you she was already on her way, if you needed help watching your kid, she was right there. no matter if she had been working all day in the sun— wearing sweat like a compressed shirt, coating her arms and face until it dripped from the underside of her chin, and dirt that seeped itself in the thick of her pants as if it had been bought that way— she was right there and that alone attracted you. she had an alluring personality with an even more charming presence that couldn’t go unnoticed, showing you around the town, or showing your kid to her barn, letting them see all the farm animals— petting the cows and horses, feeding the chickens, watching the pigs as they roll around in the mud— or even let them run down in her field. you presented them with freshly squeezed lemon juice and sandwiches as you watched from afar, staring in awe, not understanding how someone can be so genuine with their kindness.
you couldn’t lie, the view of her working was nice. your excuse to be near her was just as good as hers, making it a ritual to pass by when going to the market right around the time you knew she’d be out in the field. you’d catch her in her sports bar, getting a hold of the way her arms and back muscles flexed with the elastic of her boxer briefs peaking out from her pants— a thin line of hair following up to her belly button and freckles that scattered all over her arms and chest.
being the socialite she was, beer in hand with women flocking to her like fruit on flies, she’d laugh having them hang off her arms, fleeting eyes, talking about how impressed they were during the horse race that you unfortunately hadn’t been able to see. there was a slight film of jealousy that ran through your body, understanding why those women gave her attention but after all the days you’ve gotten to know her and the way she’d help you or even talk to you, you’ve grown a liking towards her.
abby could say the same. you hadn’t noticed when other farm workers placed their interests, seeing you as a fine piece of butchered meat, pristine and cut and hung in the most favorable way.
she didn’t want that. she wanted you all to yourself, adoring the relief on your face whenever she had a task done or the way you’d laugh after saying a joke or two, doing the usual head tilt when she left, eyes bouncing from your face until it lined all the way down your body. sneaking a hand at the side of your waist while passing by, inhaling the sweet spritz of your perfume that you wore or the sight of your ass in your jeans, finger in its pants loop, slighting jumping as you fixed them. nothing could top getting a tease of your panties whenever you bent down— that you may or may not’ve done on purpose— while wearing a dress. riling her up seeing the numerous pairs you wore, making the innards of her legs moisten and her heart race, keeping a visual memory of the blue lace you once wore or the lilac pair she last seen in the hamper in your downstairs bathroom that she shamelessly took.
it was memento. an unspoken thank you given by you, taken into her care. laid in her bed, she sprawled herself against her mattress, seeing the embroidered shapes in its cloth, remembering how it’d spread and cupped your ass. keeping in memory how you sheepishly pulled down at the dress’s fabric like you hadn’t known that you teased her with a beautiful, lustrous sight. she couldn’t help herself— you invited her in— trying to keep her indulgences tame each time she got a glimpse of your panties or the way your breasts sat in any shirt that you wore. she thought about your thighs and how they pressed together as you stood or whenever you sat down and how they expanded, thinking of whenever you were aroused and the mess you’d make in your panties and if they’d bunch at your folds or maybe even at your ass.
she’d take the panties to her nose, taking in your scent while rolling her fingers at her clit— pressing it against her lips and soaking them with her spit as she tried so desperately to let your taste linger. sopping wet, she’d let it bunch as she rubbed herself with it on her clit, grunting moans filtering her bedroom while her eyes closed themselves to remember the image of you— the simplicity in the way your tight shirt lifted and the skin that peaked just above your jeans, or even the way your jeans rolled at the folds of your hips. she’d hump the air, feet planted on her mattress as she pressed your panties roughly at her pussy.
and to think it all started off with a small hi and crate, inviting her to taste your sandwiches and apple pies, coming every few weeks or so, to her coming every week then almost every day— making it harder and harder to resist you and the need to be beneath your skin. to touch you, knead you, hear how you’d sound. now all that crowded her vision was her fucking you— digging her fingers into one of your dresses and tearing it off your body just to see how your panties really looked on you and how’d they’d look off. each breath painted the picture with the help of her entering your bedroom, keeping that in thought after you had asked for help to move your dresser. she thought about your body against hers, hand pressed down in the center of your shoulder blades, hips rolling deeply into you that had been hugged by her harness.
“you’re so nice.” you’d always tell her, sighing out a pleasant sigh whenever you got the chance.
“of course sugar.” she sang, her voice lustful and bright, “always nice to give a little, specially when a pretty woman is in need.”
“oh hush.” you laughed playfully while she leaned up against your doorframe— suspenders at the sides of her hips, hair undone from its braid and a hand tucked in the back of her pocket.
“it’s true. i don’t mind when’ya ask me of things, miss. i like helpin’ out. you’re so hardworkin’ and such’a good mama… the way you cook too? my god, it’s delicious.”
the sun rested against her frame like a glowing halo, taking the time to notice all the good deeds this woman has given you. no other has been this kind or dependable, being active in your child’s life as well as still have time to do all that needed to be done to maintain their business. it amazed you as well as excite you, coming to realization that abby’s eyes weren’t just kind but perverted. you had met your match.
every glance felt like she was studying you— the dark pools in her eyes expanded as the blue ring that surrounded, disappeared. they penetrated deep within your body, coddling your flesh like her plaything. feeling like a bee sting as her pupils prickled down your body. each time her tongue ran against the many cracks of her bottom lip, it was as if you could feel its flat bed roughly roll against your breasts, teeth grazing against your perked nipples with the subtle touches of her calloused hands sending shivers down your spine and towards your clit.
“i like to give back to deserving people.” you reply, your voice switching to an evident teasing tone that struck at her confidence, making her gather herself as she cleared her throat.
“there’s no need for that.” she smiled, her head lowering as the heel of her boot turned at your welcoming mat, “just cause i help ya out, don’t mean you have’ta physically give me anythin’ back. quality time is good’a nough for me.”
“is that so?” you chirped, hand now at your hip, letting the quiet ambiance of the distant bird chirp fill the comforting silence, “if that’s case, come back tomorrow, im going to make more strawberry tarts, you seemed to like those last time i made them. they’ll be in school tomorrow, so itll just be us if you don’t mind. we can have more ‘quality time’.”
“oh?” she smiled, biting down at her bottom lip, trying to hide the excitement that rose in the center of her chest, “yes… yes ma’am, i mean, i dont mind at all…us. i mean, it just being us… tomorrow. yeah… tomorrow then.” her well known confident demeanor demolished with you noticing her struggle to let out her words.
cute.
•••
morning approached, the blue sky and yellow sun swelling through the windowpanes as the sweet smell of strawberries filled the aroma. twenty minutes to nine, abby’s knuckle was in meet with the front of your door. there was nothing wrong with being a little early, she thought— unless there was a chance she could’ve been too early or maybe seen as too desperate?
she laid restless in her bed the night before trying to think of the many reasons as to why you had asked her to come over. yeah, you did say you were baking tarts and you wanted quality time but what did that entail? it wasn’t as if you and her had much alone time since your kid was either present or in the house alongside you both. it seemed odd, taste testing tarts without her doing the usual tasks you’d ask her to do. seemed too good to be true.
yet she was excited nonetheless, expecting nothing but positive due to how cheerful you always seemed around her. bashful stares and a warm conversation, it flowed nicely. just as nice as the pasta you made that last tuesday, the sauce being thick and not too runny and aged grated cheese to go on top of well boiled penne pasta.
smelling of cologne, she dressed all nice in her thick blue jean jacket— a yellow patch woven into the shoulder— and another one of her hats that was a warm tan that looked soft to the touch. her hair in its usual braid seeing how every strand had its own shade of blonde with two stands that flowed softly against her freckled face. “wow.” she sighed, eyeing the black dress you ended up wearing that she hadn’t seen before. it clasped at your hip dips, with the imprint of your stomach showing so cutely at its fabric— she wished she could touch. it was short, stopping mid-thigh and with each time you walked, you’d have to tug at its bottom as it rose and rippled at your waist. cut at its collar so your cleavage was on full display, wearing one of your bras that gave them more of a push. “hi…there.” she smiled, tipping the side of her hat like she had always done before. “you sure clean up real nice… shit.”
“why thank you, so do you.” you replied, making it evident that you adored her attire with the way your eyes glazed against her boxy frame. “you’re early.” your hand holding the side of the door, noticing the nervousness abby wore in the tone of her voice. it was cute, even cuter with how she looked like she tried so hard to look good for you— the scent of her so welcoming and her so neatly dressed.
“oh! m’ sorry, if’ya need me to come back later, i definitely would. just thought that… ya’ know… i didn’t think it would be much of a-“
“no… no.” you interrupted with a laugh, “you’re so cute. it’s alright. come inside, the tarts are almost done anyways.”
your house was warm and quiet, free of the nursery rhymes that usually played on the living room tv. there were no toys scattered about and alongside the sweet smell of the baking tarts was a slight film of cleaning products. it was gentle, the ambience of the morning’s music filling your ears as you hum a lulling tune. strawberries and sugar entering the airwaves with nice conversations being made, clock ticking moving closer to the tarts being done and ready to be tasted.
she sat down on the stool of your kitchen’s island, mouth watering at the sight of the tarts as they had been placed on a plate and set on the countertop. “now… tell me if these are good. i tried doing them a little different. the neighbor down the way said it’s best if i don’t use to much sugar so you’d able to taste more of the strawberries. unless you have a sweet tooth, i can make more with more sugar.” you chirped, wiping your hands at the apron that had been tied at your waist you ended taking off and placing it on a hook in your kitchen.
taking one, abby didn’t hesitate to eat, humming a pleased hum as she nodded her head, eyebrows furrowing. “this is real good.” she said, mouth full of the tart, licking the tips of her fingers, “i don’t usually eat tarts, but if i were’a professional, id give it’a A+.”
“aren’t you just a charmer, abby.”
she smiled at the compliment. abby was a natural flirt, everyone knew this. she talked to women like it was a sport without even realizing her intentions. it didn’t help that her voice alone was seductive, supple and flowy by default. it didn’t take long for you to take interest in it after the first few moments of speaking to her— not caring about accents until you heard hers. each word was like a melody, needing to have it played beside your nightstand on your bed.
“well…” she hummed taking another bite, wiping the side of her mouth with her thumb, “a woman who knows how’ta bake is a dangerous lil thing.”
you laughed, “a dangerous ‘little thing’.” you repeated lowly, admiring the way she indulged your food, hearing her muffled chatter. “and why is that?”
“you never heard the sayin’?” grabbing another tart, “the one bout’a happy belly?”
rolling your eyes, you start to put all the leftover ingredients back where they belonged, rag in hand and wiping the left over sugar and flour that sprinkled on top of the counters, “so you’re saying i make good food?”
“don’t be silly. of course, miss. im sayin’ more than that. fuck, if id’a known you were this talented, i would’a invited myself for dinner every night if you’d let me.” she replied honestly, her voice coming out softer before drinking the glass of water you left beside the tart’s plate. “a nice dinner… and dessert.”
“in that case, the offer is on the table.” turning to face her seeing her politely wipe her mouth. “you’re usually present during the lunch i make.”
“how could i not? you make’a mean sandwich and dont get me started on that one time you made— oh uhm miss…you got’a little…” pointing at your breast, a small wet patch being shown. you had leaked. it happened pretty often and youd always get so embarrassed every single time. it’d happen in the most random moments and especially in public. there was nothing satisfying about having a wet shirt as you roamed through the grocery store or even in the past when having dinner dates with online meetups your friends swore worked— everyone would make notice with them seeming just as embarrassed as you were, but you just groaned. shamelessly trying to look sexy for abby all to be leaking through right as she arrived.
“fuck, why now?” your fingers running along the wet patch as if magically it would disappear. “im sorry… this always happens when i don’t want it to.”
“oh!” abby swallowed, her eyes widening as she shook her hands, “no, no! it’s nothin’ you got’a be embarrassed about… it happens, sweetheart.” she spoke with her voice trembling like in any way she made the situation worse yet she hadn’t. looking at her, you noticed how frequently she blushed and how easy it was for her to get flustered. your mind spoke loudly to you as you thought of the many ways to make her puddle at your feet— it was what you deserved anyway. a single mother that hadn’t been given this type of attention since before you knew you were pregnant, having nothing but lack luster sexual encounters that didn’t even grant you a good enough orgasm. just from her reactions alone made your body tingle— this big, buff woman acting all shy in front of you. trying to be so kind and respectful with her use of ‘miss’ and ‘ma’am’.
“you see stuff like this a lot?” you tease, taking a towel to continuously wipe at the fabric you knew wouldn’t dry but you tried nonetheless.
abby chuckled, her warm tongue rolling at the bottom of her pouted lip. there shouldn’t be anything alluring about seeing you leak through your dress, but to her, her perverted mind thought quicker and her body felt itself wash with a film of arousal. “no… its my first time actually. but i dont see why it’d be much of an issue.”
looking up, you notice her eyes and how she obliviously stared at the stain on your breasts. “you think so?” rolling your tongue in the inner of your cheek, you chuckle quietly as you hummed. “in that case…would you like a taste?”
abby choked on her spit, her eyes widening, getting a better sight of the blue and her growing pupils. the question was abrupt and she had no way to prepare how she could react. “taste…? im… m’ sorry miss… i dont think’a understand.”
“yeah, taste. haven’t you ever wondered what it tasted like? ive tried it. it’s a bit sweet, maybe even sweeter than those tarts.” your hands cupping at your full breasts, squeezing lightly as you felt yourself continue to leak from your nipples— the wet patch expanding. abby couldn’t do anything but sit there, hypnotized with how they oozed from it’s collar and the way you let yourself mess up more of your dress. “seems like you like it. does the sight of leaking and the thought of tasting me get you all hot and bothered?”
“you fuck’n tease…” she chuckled, enjoying the way you spoke to her. every woman she encountered had never dared to speak to her that way. seeing her as nothing but a woman of control rather than someone who could be controlled— take her as she is and put her in her place, knowing all what to say, what do do and how it should be done. abby hadn’t thought about it to know if that’s something she’d enjoy. but now, with the view of your hands fondling your breasts and the slow whispers that hummed in the air, asking her questions that you both knew what the answer would be made her more wet than she thought she could get, “you ain’t gotta ask… you’re a fine woman… how can i not?”
“oh am i?” you hummed, “i just like the way you react to me.”
“and, how do i react to you?” abby’s voice entranced by you and whatever move you made.
“well… when i compliment your work ethic… telling you how hard it must be, how draining… yet a strong woman like you? it must be easy for you, yeah? all the poor weak men who try to do what you do look like amateurs. but you, miss abigail anderson, you look so determined and sexy… fuck, how sweaty you get and how… your body… flexes… makes me want to let you take me right there on that dirty field and fuck me.” never leaving her eyes, your finger drags along the countertop of the island that separated you both, one foot in front of the other, making your way towards her slowly. she felt herself burn with anticipation, her golden glow washing a faint red at her nose, cheeks and the tips of her ears. frantic, her hands clutching at her buckle, then fixing her hat to pressing it’s palms down at her jeans to clean its sweat. “it’s odd.. ive been missing a few pairs of my underwear… do you think you know who’d take them? i mean… who would…?” you laughed sweetly, as you let your face lean closer towards abby who couldn’t even sit still in her chair— chest heaving, lips wet from the constant licking. “buuut, i think i have a pretty clear idea who could’ve took them. you thought you were so slick, but how could i not see a pair of purple panties poking through your pocket. tell me abby, what did you use it for?”
“m’sorry… i wasn’t thinkin’ they were just right there and i…”
“shhh no need for all that pretty girl.” you stood in front of her— seeing how her muscles craved through her jean jacket, and her hat slightly tilted down, unable to look at you, looking every which way as she felt her heart jolt with excitement. it wasn’t usual for her to act this way— get all nervous and tongue tied. your shamelessness got the best of her. it was abrupt, teasing and erotic, feeling her body burn with an intense desire to finally place those imaginations to reality.
you slid your finger at the underside of her chin, pressing your thumb just below her bottom lip. “look at me.” your voice in a hushed tone, lifting her face towards yours. she exhaled deeply, lips parting as if she was going to speak, but nothing followed.
“that’s it pretty girl… look at mommy… need to be able to see those pretty blue eyes.”
“shut your fuck’n mouth…” abby breathed with a smile forming on her lips, letting the word mommy wrap itself around her throbbing clit, rolling her hips down in the stool where she sat.
“why so snappy?” you coo teasingly, removing your hand from her face, placing both on top of hers that had been clasped against her jeans, slowly raising them until they were pressed at your breasts. “you’re the one stealing my panties… and your hips, they’re moving. my words are getting to you, aren’t they? i don’t think you really want me to.” you continued, abby’s eyes obedient as she watched the way yours study her body. her fingers mindlessly curling as she felt the softness of your breasts push in between every spaced out finger while feeling the roughness of her calloused palm. letting out a pleasured sigh, you ran your hands down the backs of her knuckles, then her wrists and her muscled forearms.
“miss…” she breathed, her clit vigorously thumping against the fabric of her briefs. the gentleness of your voice and breasts made her sink deeper into the stool, hands groping them tighter and harder, “you’re so fuckin’ sexy… keep talkin’ to me like that…”
“yeah, you like that? that’s it… you’re such a good girl aren’t you?” you tease, breaking the swelling silence that filled in between your shared gasps. “i see the way you’ve been looking at me… the way you talk to me. where’s all that confidence now, hm?”no response was given. it was as if this was the very first time abby had been left speechless.
“speak.” you demanded, quickly letting go of one arm to grip her jaw roughly, yanking her slightly closer as you bent down towards her face, “…speak.” you repeated, this time softly, lips just inches away from hers— letting yourself hover with gasps ghosting her lips, hearing a whimper fall from her own.
“shit.. you just make me nervous, miss… i can’t help ma’self… you’re just pretty as a picture.” she admitted, letting out a breath of shaky laughter. you stood up again, her blinking frantically thinking that you were going to kiss her, but you didn’t. not now at least. she let herself look down at your breasts to see them spilling from your black dress— your areolas peaking from the lace bra. “lord have mercy on me…” her eyebrows furrowed, gulping down harshly as she bit the bottom of her lip.
she was in trance with you, the way your body moved and molded even when she fondled with your breasts. her grip grew stronger, feeling the roughness in the prod of her fingers and feeling the wetness of your dress stick against her hands. “you want it, don’t you big girl?” you teased, “i know you’d know how to handle me… how to fuck me. show me abigail. let me see how a pretty woman like you can ruin me.”
a hand quickly pressed at the small of your back, pulling your body in between her legs as her lips latched onto your neck, her hat falling down onto the floor at the push of her forehead that tattooed the side of your jaw. open mouthed kisses running along its side and down to your collar bone letting her tongue run along your skin until her lips felt yours.
the intensity of her lips was strong and full, inhaling them into her mouth with you both trying to take lead. opened mouthed and husky breaths hugging one another’s tongues as your hand wraps itself at the back of her head. lips glistening as spit rolled down the sides of your mouths, chin and neck. she ran her tongue underneath yours before wrapping her lips around it’s muscles, suckling on it with a bobbing head.
pulling back to catch your breath, a smile crept on your lips, “open your fucking mouth..” you snarled playfully— her mouth ajar as you gathered spit and letting it fall at her tongue.
“ya’taste so good…” she couldn’t handle the absence of your mouth as she drank your spit, pushing you into her face as you study yourself back into the kiss. her thick muscle would roam inside of your mouth, spit bubbling and running from its sides, latching her lips and sucking up any that left.
her lips trailed down, fingers curling at the collar of your dress to yank its fabric down and hook it underneath your breasts, with the help of you unclipping your bra. now in her sight was your swollen nipples, wet and dripping and in need of release. she placed you inside of her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she felt your warm milk rush in the center of her tongue. eyes rolling back as she swallowed, your breasts being pushed into her face and nose while kneading them together as she sucked.
the taste of you was addictive, loving the watery yet thick texture you let out and how it felt as she swallowed it. leaning her head back, tugging at your nipple, she releases her latch, watching the way your breasts move so obnoxiously, “fuck you taste so good… can’t stop sayin’ that…” she exhaled, “and… and you’re just so goddamn hot i-“
she pushed your breasts together rougher, seeing the light sprinkle squirt out from your nipples, “i could cum just drinkin’ you…” sticking her tongue out as she aimed it into her mouth. it got all on the sides of her lips, the tip of her nose and chin, messing herself up and letting it fall down onto her lap. hurriedly she leaned back in, sucking on the other. each suck harder than the last, letting you fill her mouth, savoring it with every two to three sucks before she swallowed it all.
watching the way she seemed so desperate for more, the way her cheeks hollowed and expanded and her nasally inhales filled your ears with bliss as well as her velvety moans that vibrated and directed itself at your sore, sensitive nipples. your hand pressed at the back of her head, pushing her in closer, adoring the way her head bobbed as she sucked.
“oh you’re so cute… look at you, so fucking desperate for me.” you cooed, letting out a pleased laugh— her immediately feeling embarrassment wash over her entire being but her being able to finally taste you, feel you, indulge you was far more stronger. the look in her eyes were as if she was in need of you and only you, taking in every vowel you spoke, letting it cradle her clit. your soft thighs encapsulating the heat she exuded from her jeans, letting your knee touch right at her crotch. “you’re such a good girl… drinking from me. you like it don’t you?” you wince pleasantly, loving the sting of her harsh sucks at your irritated and hardened nipples.
nodding she removed her lips, running her tongue along the rim of her mouth when any of your milk started fell down her chin. “don’t tease me like that… won’t be able’ta control myself.”
“mm, yeah? keep sucking and show me how you’d lose yourself to me.” you demanded and she listened. the feeling of her sucks drove you to the brink of insanity— jolts of pleasure lining down your spine and up your thighs making you press your knee further into her jeans. her large hands exploring your womanly frame, grasping onto your ass as your dress began to hitch up your thighs— the tightness of the fabric pressing deep into your skin, letting it bubble at its rim. “get on your knees for me.”
removing herself, the echo of the chair being moved back was loud and quick, pressing her knees down onto the wooden floorboards. her face in meet with your black laced panties that had been soaked. placing your hand at the back of her head, inviting her to press her nose right against your clothed clit, rolling your hips against her face as she held onto your thighs, nails digging into it’s plushness. she inhaled your scent— the aroma of your arousal filling her airway, letting you feel the lining of her curved nose slide from your clit then down your folds, letting it dampen her skin.
“that’s a good girl… such a pathetic pretty thing… huff it.” you moan, loving the sight of abby and the way she allowed you to talk to her.
“fuck miss…” she inhaled, “you smell so nice… m’ losin’ my mind…“ eyes closed, turning her head slightly left then right— nose buried deep into your clothed folds until it left an imprint, fabric sticking to your wet cunt. “m’so pathetic… all for you… can’t stop thinkin’ bout your fuckin’ pussy and god knows how much i…. how much i needed this.”
your fingers slid at the side of her face, taking any loose strands that fell from her braid away from her face as she spoke— getting a hold of her braid stabilizing her head, lifting it granting a loud inhaling moan.
she looked up you, eyes flickering between your eyes then your lace. “you’re so wet for me, i can feel ‘em through your panties, see” she breathed, sliding her thick fingers to feel your puffy folds almost hug around them— your slick seeping through and coating her fingers. she rose her fingers, spreading them apart, admiring the string that connected from her middle to her ring finger before placing them on her tongue and sucking them.
she lifted your dress some more, just enough to show your full stomach as she held onto your waist, pressing her lips deeply at the soft pudge, leaving slow, teasing kisses against, her lips sinking in every meet, with her eyes staring right up at you. abby wanted you to know she admired the way that you looked, how soft your body had been, letting this moment be the time she overindulged in every part you’d let her. her lips rimming around your belly button, opening her lips as she let her tongue slightly caress at the skin, “so soft..” abby spoke in a hushed tone, spreading your thighs apart more as she pressed her nose right in the center of your clit, inhaling your sweet smell once more before rolling her tongue over it. “can’t get ‘nough of this pussy… it just smells so sweet.” she breathed, latching onto your clit as she started to slowly suck right over your panties, feeling your throbbing bud feather against her tongue.
“yeah…? you like it don’t you baby? huffing it like a dog in heat.” you tease, tilting your head to see those pretty lips that were in its usual pout spread against the lace. “come on big girl, show me how much you need it.” enjoying the feeling of her harsh inhales and exhales traveling against your skin as she sucked— moaning sweetly between every word as your hips buck into her face, rolling them.
pulling down your panties to the side, she saw the wetness connect from your clit, running all down your slit, immediately spreading your lips apart, seeing your whole view.
“m’ gonna fuck it with my tongue… may i…? can i have my tongue so deep inside you, i can feel you clench yourself…?” her eyes not leaving your face, letting her tongue run up your slit as her mouth latches on.
“show me.”
just as she always does, she obliged, listening to your every request like a trained puppy— she pressed it’s muscle harder, circling her lips at the bud. with one hand holding her braid and the other at your hip, you press your shoe at her crotch, pressing down firmly, circling it around.
a tingling sensation bounced off her body, roaming through each part of her limps, the heat rose at her crotch was now your stepping stool. furrowing eyebrows and low grunts, her lips released, dropping her head down, she watched as your shoe pressed against her aching clothed pussy— her jeans already tight and harshly hugging her thighs to the point where she felt like busting through them. “fuck…” she breathed, spreading her kneeling legs apart, liking the pressure you placed on her. abby rolled her hips upward, eager to just feel something more— any attention to her cunt and the hard surface from the bottom your shoe, did wonders on her.
“i didn’t tell you to stop now did i pretty thing?” you coo as you lift her head by her braid, other hand sliding against her cheek with a slight stroke of her thumb before lifting and tapping her face, giving her a hard slap. her eyes widened and her hips jolted, feeling more of a press from your shoe— the throbs of her cunt matching it’s beats with the lingering sting of the slap, her moans growing louder and throaty. “oh?” loving the surprised glare abby gave you, “took you by surprise didn’t i?”
she smirked, basking in the tingle her face had, “the way you’re handlin’ me miss…” her lips now ghosting over your clit, “never had’a women talk to me like this before.”
“you like it, don’t you?”
“oh i surely do.”
abby was enticed with the way you felt against her tongue, pushing her face in as if there were to be any space in between, she’d want to fill her face in it— each lick, she curls her tongue at your entrance, hooking all that you leaked against her tongue, swallowing it and your labia fluttering in her mouth in the roughness of her suctions. popping her mouth off just to see the flesh of your pussy dance prettily and coated in her spit.
“please fuck my face miss…” she groaned in between sucks, “fuck it… please fuck it.”
her bitten nails piercing deep in your soft thighs and your ass, letting it fill her hands as she gripped and shook it in her grasp— your panties bunching and lining in between your ass. cocking a hand back, she spanked, a loud gasp croaking from your throat, hips jolting closer towards her face as she spanked you over and over again. “your fucking mouth… god youre so dirty… you make me feel so good.” you sigh, taking a deep breath as you found your legs buckling inward, hands at the top of her head— her neat braid now forming a mess.
“look how it’s drippin’… you needed this, didnt’ya miss?” admiring how wet you were for her, her eyes in full amazement— dazed by the taste and the scent. her tongue ran along your stripe, spitting on your clit, quickly lapping it up before she slowly slid its muscle in your opening. instantaneously you clenched against her, head bobbing as she let her tongue penetrate deeper into your cunt. it felt hot and warm, contorting her tongue just you can feel how hard her tongue worked— her nose bumping at your clit with her eyes watching your even reaction.
you were left in a moaning mess, unable to taunt her as much as you would’ve liked— she knew exactly what she was doing and how to please your pussy. moaning her name over and over again as your shoe continued to press harder against her crotch and your hips fuck up into her face. the grip she had on your ass, pulling you in even before she even thrusted herself outward, humming a line of ‘uh huhs’ as she took notice of the switch in your heightened sounds.
leaning herself back, there was a string of mixed slick and spit that connected you both, spreading your folds, spitting against your clit and letting it run down, quickly running her tongue up your folds, then spitting again. the spit turning stringy and somewhat slimy.
“stop.” you panted, yanking her head from her braid seeing her face wet, skin glistening in the mess she made from you cunt. strands of cluttering at her forehead as she tried her best to catch her breath.
“did i do somethin’ wrong?” lining her tongue against her lips.
“go on the couch. i need more.” taking your shoe from her crotch, watching the big woman get herself up on her feet, gulping down harshly as she walked towards the couch with you following.
“stand here.” you demanded, “watch me.”
your fingers curl at her buckle, feeling its cold metal against your fingers as you undid it, throwing it to the side and hearing it loud clunk against the floor following with her pants and boxers that you let puddle at her feet. your face now in view with her pussy— a warm deep honey flush of hair coating it , wild yet trimmed that lined all the way up her belly button. “im gonna let this pretty pussy fuck my tits.” you announced breathily.
she gasped in return, watching as you press your breasts together, poking out your chest with her hips following. “dont be shy… fuck it.” you tease, her hands holding onto your shoulders as you gather spit and let it fall at your thick, rounded breasts, already wet from abby’s hungry lips and you leaking.
she took no time to press herself onto you, the softness of your warm, wet breasts pressing at her hardened clit allowing a shaky moan to fall from her lips. no time was wasted before she rutted herself into your— her strong build making your body jerk at every thrust she gave. her clit felt warm and her slick tattooed your skin— each pull of thrust having a line of her slick connecting you both.
“good girl, fuck them rough.” you praised, abby now lost in lust, your leaking nipples dripping down onto your thighs and her own. the slaps of skin were loud and her moans were louder, gritting at her teeth. bending at the knees, you took a hold of one, rubbing your nipple down her folds, letting it feather her clit.
“it feels… so… goddamn good.” her moans broken but her thrust directed, throwing her head back as she let the sounds of her melodic moans bounce against the living room walls.
“that’s it, show mommy how good it feels.” you laugh, enjoying how abby lost herself for you. each part of her body was at work, lifting her shirt to show her own cute, small breasts, grasping on one and rolling her finger against her nipple. she twisted and turned at her, her body jolting forward, knees knocking inward, unable to keep herself standing.
you stood up quickly, needing to feel her against you. with a hand pressed at her chest, you pushed her down, watching her body bounce of the cushion. taking her jacket, you straddle her waist, your cunt pressed against her crotch as you take both her wrists in hand, pinning them above her head. your hips wildly roll upwards, feeling the sharpness of her shaped abdomen, letting your clit trail against it’s bumps as she breathed heavily. “god you’re so sexy…” you whined, your hips snapping as your body jiggled and moved— abby’s hands clasping onto your thighs then your stomach as it moved. “i want to fuck every… fucking part of your body…” you admitted, her stomach now wet with your slick before you let yourself run down and hover her cunt once more.
“been wantin’ta fuck you so bad miss…” she sighed, hips rolling up into you, mimicking the grinds you gave. the feeling of her jeans bumping at your clit, dampening it as your face snakes along hers. “drivin’ me insane…”
“oh am i now?” you moan prettily as you continue to roll your hips, feeling the heat between you both interlock. “i want you…” you breathe, voice shaking, “i want you to ride my pussy with yours… need to feel it on me.”
“miss… i would’a never thought you’d’a be so damn dirty…” abby grinned wickedly, eyes flashing dangerously at your request, turning you around so your back replaces hers on the couch.
grabbing you leg, she spreads them, lifting it, hovering herself over yours as she angled her clit on top of yours. her strong legs being pushed into your frame, feeling the weight of her strength in the consistency of her starting grinds. your fingers tug at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up to see the hair that trail down her belly button wash lightly against her pubic bone— her pussy fleshy and wet. at contact, a loud groan croaked from her throat, pressing herself down further and starting to move her hips.
she rutted her hips wildly, unable to control herself with the way you sounded at every movement she made. huskily grunting at the feeling of your beating clit pressing up against hers and down her wet folds. hearing the wetness of your collision rise with the moans that fell from your throats. grasping onto her arms, nails digging into its skin with eyes that connected as you spoke at one another in the song of your moans. “baby your pussy feels so good…” you call out.
“atta girl…” abby grunted, heavy hips lifting as they slammed against yours— feral, rigid, “m’gonna breed you… fill you up and make you pregnant.” that once sweet and soft spoken southern woman, losing herself in her lust.
abby knew she couldn’t— she wasn’t thinking straight at all. the adrenaline that pumped through her veins caused her to not even feel the ache that stirred in the quickness of her rolling hips. each thrust, she felt her body shudder with excitement, like her body took shots of this moment to remember. her clit, pounded against yours, loving the intensity of colliding skin and your moans that got whiner after every grunt she spoke.
beats of sweat slid down her forehead just like she had been out on the field, cascading down in stylized ripples, feeling the itch in the tickling drip. your eyes wide, it wanting to miss any second, feeling yourself close to a haze, unable to grasp at the fact that abby said she was about to breed you when it wasn’t even physically possible. it was hot nonetheless— your body arching into the couch cushions as your nails tattooed the thickness of her rough yet soft skin.
“say…” you breathe out in a struggle, feeling your moans flow from your throat on lumps, swallowing the spit and running their tongue against your drying lips, “say that again..”
she laughed in another hungered grunt, her large hand pressing down at your full chest, letting her palm slide up until it hooked around your neck, thumb firmly giving you a nice choke, “oh my…” abby laughed breathlessly, eyebrows knitting into a pleasurable expression, “m’ gonna make you a mama again— m’a breed this pretty pussy. you need it dont’cha baby… i know i needed this...”
“do it!” you shouted with a devilish grin, rolling your eyes back as your felt your stomach tighten and your limbs lock. unable to keep still, your body flared as you tried so desperately to hold onto something. even though abby had you in her grasp, each breath being harder to take with her tightening hold, and your legs in an unmoving position, your body couldn’t take all this pleasure. it was quick, rigid, hunger and outward looking in, anyone could see how desperate you both were for the building orgasm that flooded in the language of your body movements.
“fuck m’a cum… take it…”
her clit pulsated hard, squeezing a rasped grunt as she felt herself gush directly onto your push— a satisfied sigh after every one she made— the clear liquid splashing onto your stomach, her chest and your face.
it took you by surprise, snapping your neck up to watch her squirt right on you as she grinded it all into you, the puddling mess escaping everywhere and filling the lining of your stomach until it concave as you breathed in. the sight alone was disgusting hot, toes curling as your orgasm hit you harder than any toy you’ve used and definitely harder than any person tried in the past.
“fuck…” abby sighed, gulping down roughly with her hips slowing themselves down— her body now glistening with sweat, her muscles being more prominent than before.
“im not through with you yet.” you laughed, “no one’s ever made me cum this hard and that fast. need to ring you out dry.” letting go of her shoulders, taking her braid that slung over it, and pulling her down so your lips were inches apart, “you know how to work a strap on pretty girl?”
“you wan’ that? m’ might break you.” abby snickered, being well versed in the used of a strap on, having many herself back at home.
“break me big girl.”
•••
both of you were now free of clothing as she laid prettily on your bed, legs sprawled out to see her wet pussy being on full display. her clit was cute, fleshy, dripping with cum that ran down the innards of her thigh. you pressed deep and slow kisses against the inner of her thighs all the way to her clit, running the flat of your tongue on it and with each lick, she'd stare, watching as it’d move in the direction you licked. she tasted sweet, filling your mouth as your nose felt the tickle by the constant rub against her pubic bone, letting your lips take breaks in between to kiss alongside it. you ran your finger against the hood of your clit, watching its bud stand as you blew cool air against it— her body twitching at the soft blow.
“does it feel good?” you tease, each couple licks granting an inhaling suck. her eyes went back and forth, closing them and trying to watch as your face took it’s place in between her legs. she wanted to watch you, the way you looked so sexy rolling your muscle at her aching clit. she felt a constant throb huddled at her temples, jaw clenching as she let out soft grunts, bucking her hips up towards your mouth. the scent of her was strong and tantalizing, popping your mouth off just to see the flesh of her pussy flutter prettily.
she nodded, already feeling the building orgasm at the bottom of her stomach. you ran your tongue against her skin, letting it trail all the way up to her belly button before nipping at her skin— teeth grazing as you sucked gently, feeling the burn against your tongue.
“use your words.” you breath against her, allowing a trail of spit to coat over her exposed bud.
“it feels… so…” she hummed, gulping down roughly as her body jerked slightly with the movement of your flicking tongue, “fuck it feels good miss… please… please let me fuck you.” she begged, unable to wait much longer knowing she didn’t have time herself before she’d lose herself completely.
a smile resided on your lips as your hand slid against the cold bedsheets, grabbing onto the strap and harness you had gotten while stumbling your way up the stairs and into your room.
taking it, she stood, legs slightly locking. red flushed at her shoulders and cheeks, with wet trails that fell and lined down her legs and splattered on her stomach— getting a better sight of what made up of her build. her ass was tight and muscling, clenching so cutely as she put one leg in the harness after the other, letting it sit tightly at her hips that had been fastened. you took her place in bed, laying and watching her as she quickly assembled it onto herself. your fingers grazed over your clit, feeling your body jerk with sensitivity, humming out pleasantly as she made her way towards your bed once again.
her lips warm and soft, raw from the constantly prod of yours as you stumbled your way from the couch, up the stairs and into your bedroom— they were red and even more plump before, throbbing at every spread when she smiled.
“god miss…” another breathy sigh being exhaled, “you’re gonna make me all pussy drunk.” her hand wrapping around the dildo— thick and a reasonable length. one that could fill with its fake ejaculation and stretch you, make you gasp upon entering. it had been one of your favorites, never failing to make you cum as if you were in one of those films where the sex was hot from a quick hookup at a bar. you used it a lot and especially when you wanted your legs to give out, slamming it into you until your arms were raw in pain— loving the sight when you took its girth from inside of you, squeezing the ‘cum’ it let out.
“seems like you already are, dont forget, you were just huffing my pussy downstairs.” you teased, her body hovering yours as she let the tip of the dildo replace your fingers, sliding it up and down your folds with a firm press. “impress me. you have my hopes up, don’t want to be let down.”
she scoffed, her lips savoring gentle kisses in between every word you spoke, “just cause this shit fake don’t mean m’not gonna fuck you like it’s real, miss.” and with a lean, she gathered spit in her mouth, letting it fall at the tip of the dildo that had already dropped from your slick, letting it run down its detailed shaft before stroking it— twisting wrist and a firm grasp. “lift that leg up f’me.”
you obliged, holding on up as it still trembled, remembering that hard orgasm you had on the couch. her other hand, free, slapped your clit with no warning, replacing the immediate sting with a calming rub as you felt your body twitch coldly. you liked that. she didn’t treat you like you were helpless— she didn’t fuck you like she felt bad for you. a single mother all desperate for a good enough fuck to remember, that’s what people thought once they lay in your bed. they all looked at you, thinking by the sweetness of your smile, you weren’t able to take something as simple as a choke or a little back and forth between degrading words— but a slap to the cunt from a hand as rough and as big as hers? it felt good, and before you could even make a complete thought she did it again.
“you’re a dirty thing.” abby let out in a impressed sigh, your fingers replacing hers as they tried to soothe your clit from the slaps. your pointer and middle, spread yours folds open, allowing her to see your readiness. “you ready f’me?”
“show me baby… show me. ruin me.”
pressing your leg against her chest, you felt the softness of her small breast and the heaves of her deep breaths. she angled herself, the dildo slowly disappearing into your cavern with a gasping moan filling the air. her eyes glued themselves, admiring the way you took her so easily despite it’s girth.
the sting of your leg and how it had been lifted burned at your thigh, letting out a pleasured shriek once you felt yourself wrap around her entirely— folds hugging its shaft. sunken inhales and fingers clasping onto the bed sheets, her hips start to move slowly and at each thrust, you saw her abdomen form and flex.
“god you’re so big…” you whisper, her hips staggering as she dipped her body down, face inches away from yours as it hovered. “such a… good… girl, go faster…”
abby couldn’t contain herself. the tight hug at the harness nudged against her clit, already stimulated and throbbing from your now absent mouth. each push of her hips came a harder pound, loving the way your breasts obnoxiously knocked into one another, taking a hold of one as she latched her lips on them again. she sucked harshly, letting her hips loose as she rolled them faster into you.
“just… just like that.” you call out, her responding in humming ‘mm hmms’, only caring for your demands and the heightening moans you let out.
she fucked you good. she fucked you hard. your body jerking every time her skin came in contact with yours. lifting her head, your hands frantically moved gripping at her jaw. deeper she went, hearing your sounds and pleads for more. abby swore she could feel you wrapped around her. you let your fingers dig into her cheek, feeling in indentation of her teeth through her cheeks, bringing her her face down. you pressed a long warm kiss against her squished lips, her heavy breath from her nose blowing at your upper lip as she tried to keep her breath steady.
“oh fuck miss… you feel so good.” she cooed in between each kiss, capturing your tongue in her mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing her head. “i need’ta breed you… i want’a cum inside… please let me.” she begged, your tongue swiping across her lips, collecting the remnants of spit that coated them.
“come on big girl, fill me up.” you egged on, surprised at how close your orgasm was picking up. the heat between your bodies burning as the shift of your bed scrapped against the wooden floorboards. each thrust, you heard the hard collision of skin, your body and stomach moving as her hand gripped it, massaging it as she let her eyes fall from yours to your breasts to your stomach. “you’re so good to me… so good for me… the way you treat me… you deserve it… breed my pussy. impregnate me…”
a fleeting glint of mischief and eagerness glistening in her watercolored colored eyes, your words trapping her in a lust filled state as her hips lost its consistency but picked up in its power. eyebrows furrowing, and dripping spit coated lips, she felt herself nearing closer and closer.
“please..” she whimpered, chanting over and over as she let out soft cries, eyes welting from how good it felt and how you sounded.
“cum with me..” you spoke gently, a harsh gasp as you curl your toes, “cum for mommy… come on baby.”
“i… fuck…” her hand hurried in search and in hold of the valve that allowed the strap’s ’cum’ to fill itself inside of you. “im gonna fill you up…” right before she felt herself reach her high, she squeezed it tight, its warm, thick cum filling itself inside, pressing firmly at your walls as some seeped out with every pull of her thrust— a white ring surrounded the base of the shaft.
she let out a loud howl, releasing herself with a splash of her squirt coming from the side of the harness, spraying down on top of you and the bed. your rolled to the back of your head— body trembling rigorously as your push your orgasm down onto her shaft. loud and clear moans being fought from your mouths as she let herself thrust deeper and slowing its pace.
“god…” you breathed as she slid out, immediately sitting in between your legs, hand pressed at your thigh as you push them cum from inside of you out. it leaked, slowly escaping and falling to the bed. “look how much you filled me.” you laugh tiredly, her eyes growing at the sight.
“jesus…” she sighed all the while trying to catch her breath, “my apologies but i dont think i had’a nough…” she admitted, her body visibly worn but full of an adrenaline high to stop herself.
smirking to yourself, you nodded, running your tongue over your lips, “good, cause im not done with you.”
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skipper1331 · 2 months
Text
Secret // Alexia Putellas
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| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | extra |
Everybody knew that Alexia was a private person - she only shared the information she wanted to share as she was very selective in her choice of words and very careful about whom she told what.
And even though that facade dropped around her friends and family, she still kept you a secret - she preferred it that way - having you to herself and not having to deal with headlines like 'Alexia Putellas dating her Barcelona teammate.' and the drama that it could cause.
Whenever it was just the two of you she was the sweetest girl, treating you like a princess and being totally in love with you while when other people were around, she kept her distance, acted strictly professional and didn‘t show any signs of affection.
The only person who knew about you was her sister, Alba and she only found out by accident.
-
"mi amor, you‘re so beautiful" the midfielder admired, kissing along your jaw, "I can‘t get enough of you" she found her way down to your neck, completely lost in the feeling of you before a certain spot on your neck caught her attention where she gently created reddish marks.
Just because nobody knew about you, didn’t mean that it would stop Alexia from silently claiming you.
Her fingertips ran along your exposed skin as your shirt had riddled up, leaving the midfielder craving for more.
The Barcelona player continued to mumble sweet nothings, planting some last even sweeter kisses on your neck before she reached up to your lips, kissing them with every ounce of love. Alexia always kissed you like that, letting you know that you caused the butterflies in her stomach.
Tugging on your shirt, she signaled that she wanted it off. Happily obeying, you took it off, her hands now wandering around your bare upper body as she was back kissing you with so much passion and love.
"Ale- do you know what-" both of you froze at the same time, your girlfriend shielding your exposed body as her sister stood in the door frame, "oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!" she covered eyes, rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut.
"mierda!" Ale was off of you in an instant, throwing your shirt back to you.
"I‘m Alba!" the younger Putellas called threw the door, "we haven‘t meet yet. I‘m her sister!"
You chuckled - wrong move as Alexia glared at you, marching out of her bedroom.
"Do you ever knock?!" she said angrily, pulling her sister away, giving you the time you needed.
"I thought you were asleep! You didn‘t open the front door when I knocked" the sister defended herself in their mother tongue.
Alexia huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "so, who‘s she?" Alba asked.
Perfectly timed, you exited the bedroom, walking towards the sisters in the living room, "I’m Y/N" you smiled nicely, offering your hand.
"Alba" she introduced herself once again, returning your smile and shaking your hand.
"She‘s my girlfriend" the midfielder huffed, annoyed that her little sister caught you, "20€ if you don‘t tell anyone about it" the older one said.
She would pay money to keep you a secret? Don‘t get me wrong, you didn‘t want to be public as you loved the privacy both of you had as individuals and together but you did hope for that she would at least tell your friends and family. All you wanted was to hold her hand and not to worry about standing too close to her.
The sparkle in your eyes died down, feeling stings in your heart but nonetheless respecting Alexia‘s wishes.
"I don‘t need your money" Alba stated when she saw the way your face fell, "you could have just said please."
You felt more than rejected in that moment.
"You won‘t tell anybody about this" she ordered this time now, her jaw clenched and voice firm - captains order.
Alba walked towards the door, "I‘m going to the car, mamá is waiting. Hurry up" before she left, only Alexia and you left in her apartment.
"I‘m sorry amor, I forgot that we were having lunch together." the midfielder explained, not knowing nor realizing that her behavior had hurt you as she was just apologizing for the incident of Alba walking in.
"You can stay if you‘d like" she smiled, putting on her shoes.
After she had laced her last shoe, she pulled you in by your hips, kissing you good bye, getting a bit carried as the feeling of your lips locked was addicting.
-
You loved being Alexia‘s girlfriend but you didn‘t like being her secret.
To be honest, it didn‘t bother you at first but after 6 months, you started to think about at least telling your family (officially you hadn‘t even met Alba before) and friends but every time you proposed the idea of it, she got defensive and annoyed, so you didn‘t bring it up again.
After one year, you slowly started to think that maybe she was ashamed of being seen with you, just being with you or of you as her behavior got more and more secretive day by day - she didn‘t even act like your friend in training.
You didn‘t know where it was coming from because whenever you were behind closed doors, she was the most affectionate person who loved to cook for you or just sharing the same air made her heart and brain go love sick. She was indeed very much in love with you yet afraid to show this love outside of either of your apartments.
Sometimes you wished that she would take you out for dinner - it didn‘t have to be fancy at all, McDonalds would be simply enough - you just wanted to experience a date night.
And even though, she made home as romantic as possible, it wasn’t enough anymore. You craved for more.
Sometimes when you saw Ingrid and Mapi openly in love, you felt jealous. You wanted that too.
They were your friends and you were so happy for them as they matched each other perfectly but you couldn’t help but feel envy. You envied what they have, imagining how it would feel like with Alexia - hoping to have that with Alexia, one day.
-
"Do you want to go out tonight? Frido told me about this new restaurant!" you said smiling.
The midfielder looked up from her notebook, pausing the tv as she replayed Chelsea’s matches (the club Barcelona would face in the uwcl semi finals)
"Is it takeout?" she asked.
You shook your head - no. "We can go out" you tried again, flopping next to her on the couch.
"Amor!" she grumbled as all her notes fell to the ground, now not sorted anymore.
"Sorry"
"I‘m preparing for our upcoming matches, you should join me in fact, so you know how Chelsea will play. We can order takeout - you know I don‘t like going out with you" she sorted through her notes, grumbling and huffing at the non existing order. She hadn‘t realized that her words were harsh and in fact rude.
You got the message - she didn’t like going out(side) with you, she had made that very clear.
"I can get you some food from there tomorrow" she added, her voice gentle and the wrinkle between her brows gone as her notes were back in the correct order.
It didn‘t help though, you felt hurt. Was it that bad to be seen with you? You‘re a Barcelona player, her teammate - and friends get food together all the time, so why can‘t you get food together as friends? Nobody would suspect that the two of you were more than friends, right?
"Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you, mi amor?"
Again, you shook your head, scrolling through your phone while you acted tough and unbothered by her comment as she didn‘t even notice how harsh her words had sounded before.
You sent a message in the group chat with Ingrid and Frido, asking if they wanted to try out the restaurant which the Swedish woman had discovered. Both of them agreed within seconds.
-
The two of you laid in bed, Alexia‘s arms wrapped around you as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It became a routine for Alexia to lull you to sleep while tracing patterns along your skin. She loved doing so and she loved watching you sleep - you looked at peace.
Something about tonight was different though. Normally, it wouldn’t take long for the captain to soothe you to sleep but after 30 minutes, you still were awake, mind seemingly not finding any rest.
"¿Qué pasa?" she whispered in the dark, gently pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
"It‘s been over a year, Ale, when will you introduce me as your girlfriend? Or take me out on a date that isn’t in here?" your voice was almost inaudible. You knew it was a sensitive topic for Alexia, the girl always denying your requests on telling someone and shutting you out after the conversation and also avoiding you for the rest of the day. "Amor.. we‘ve talked about this" she said, pulling her hands off your body.
Coldness hit your body while the parts were her hands had rested burnt down.
You turned around, looking at her, the moonlight the only light source "all I’m asking is for some recognition." you admitted, almost pleading for her attention outside of either of your homes.
"But I see you. I see you in training and after training, why is it so important to you that people now? We won‘t have any privacy!" her voice raising slightly.
"Alexia… this has nothing to do with the media. I want to meet your family! Or go on a date and wear very nice clothes. Is that too much to ask for?"
"You‘re right. Lo siento, amor" her hands cupped your cheeks, resting her forehead against yours, "I‘ll try to be better"
-
Over the next few months, Alexia’s home started to become your least favourite place - you felt like you were trapped in a cage.
Nothing had changed.
She loved you behind closed doors while she couldn’t even look at you in training.
Each day that passed, more of your heart broke. Your motivation faded - football was your work and no longer a passion.
And Alexia could tell. Your passes were sloppy and your tackles were harsh.
As soon as you had arrived in her apartment, she began complaining about your attitude.
You were not having it.
You started yelling at each other, rude comments leaving both of your mouths,
"You promised me!" you shouted, all hidden anger and hurt discovering the surface, "you promised me and nothing has changed! I‘m your dirty little secret!" you spat.
"Alba knows about you, isn’t that enough?!"
"You offered her fucking money to keep her mouth shut!"
"What do you want?!"
"I can‘t do this anymore, Alexia. I don’t want to think about whether my girlfriend is ashamed of me or not."
"What are you talking about- amor?"
"I‘m worth more than that."
"Please- give me a chance"
"I did, Ale, more than once" you walked towards the front door, bending down to put on your shoes.
The captain followed, so overwhelmed by what was happening that her persona took some turns, "If you walk out that door, we‘re done!"
your hand was resting on the doorknob, ready to leave.
You looked at her, "Behind that door, we never existed anyway."
And with that being said, you left.
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