#romanian sweetheart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rippersz · 2 months

Text

𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝙳𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞 + 𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝙰𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 (𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜) (SLIGHTLY NSFW):

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

They are busy busy business ladies. Alcina runs the Dimitrescu Vineyard and often encounters all of the complexities that come with owning a company, while Larissa runs Nevermore and deals with her own pile of tasks each day. They’re fiercely independent like that, but even the strongest, tallest, most intelligent businesswomen have to find solace somewhere. In this case, it’s found in each other… and in you.

୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧

ʚ♡ɞ Larissa’s top two love languages are Gift Giving and Quality Time. Physical Touch is a close third. She hates not spending time with both of you and does whatever she can to free up her schedule. It’s difficult, but she manages because you two are worth it. And date nights, vacations, even little trips to town are the things that keep her happy and smiling. She’s always the first to suggest you all go somewhere, and even if you or Alcina are especially tired, you fall prey to her big glittering blue eyes. As soon as her face falls and she starts to pout, Alcina makes a show of covering your eyes and her own with her hands.

“Oh draga (darling in Romanian) don’t look now. She’ll tempt us. Drag us off to Hell. She’s utterly insatiable.” And you’ll giggle while Larissa’s expression falls sharp and her eyebrow ticks up. “Hell? You don’t think I’m an angel?” And Alcina can only roll her eyes before pushing you off to grab your jersey while she swipes an arm around Larissa’s waist and brings her into a kiss. “You are an angel. Sometimes.” “And other times?” They both grin. “The most wicked devil I know.”

Her gifts are also always from the heart. Very sentimental, like a well-written card, or a niche thing from the Jericho antique shop that she thinks you’d like. For Alcina, it could be a very ornate wine opener, and for you it could be an old broach or a locket big enough to put a picture of your family in.

ʚ♡ɞ Alcina’s top two love languages are Gift Giving and Physical Touch. Acts of Service is a close third. The truth is, she has a lot of money. A lot. Like a lot. And she is eager to show it off and spoil you two. Now Larissa is just as proud a woman, and enjoys her freedom and independence to pick out her own wardrobe, but Alcina can’t help herself. Larissa returned home one time and Alcina instantly rushed in to wrap a beautiful Parisian fur coat around her shoulders. It was the perfect size, the perfect length. Larissa wears it every winter, even if she told Alcina that she didn’t have to. It came with matching gloves, but Larissa slips those onto your hands so you two can match when you go out together. And as for yourself, her special little darling, she’ll seek out the things you’ve mentioned (even in very brief passing) that you liked. Oh that cute little trinket you saw in an Instagram advertisement? Suddenly it’s on the kitchen island waiting for you with a little note from ‘Yours, ~ A. D.’ - She signs her initials like that every time. You and Larissa keep them in a hidden box. It’s nearly full.

And I don’t think it really comes as a surprise when I say Alcina is a big admirer of physical touch with her loved ones. She is fiercely protective and vain, so she adores showing you off as the two women on her arm, but if someone stares for a little two long, her gaze burns her through sunglasses. The bright gold always startles normies. So this usually means she walks in the middle of you two whenever you’re out, with both of you on each arm. But if Larissa’s the one who is treating you all, she walks in the middle and struts around proudly.

ʚ♡ɞ You wanted to do it one time, just to see what it was like, and you looked like a young woman with your lesbian mothers. It was very embarrassing. They teased you HEAVILY. Every shop you went into, it was always “Oh what about this sweetheart? Do you want this for your room? Right next to your diploma?” Or “Oh this frame would be perfect. We could put it with your school pictures love, what do you think?” - You got so frustrated and flustered that you walked right off and it took them 5 minutes to realize you had literally walked away further down the street. Alcina scented you out and came to find you in a perfume store, trying to hide your smell. When they got there, you glared until they agreed they’d never do it again (but sometimes it slips in when they’re feeling wicked).

ʚ♡ɞ Now of course that does lead to power dynamics- which are very much a thing in this relationship. When it comes to Alcina Dimitrescu’s involvement, there will always be power dynamics. She is very not normal about her control issues, but that’s okay. You love her anyway. And Larissa learns to accept that it is both a blessing and a curse. She has to spend a lot of her own days in control, but it’s not necessarily by choice all the time. Before you two, she was very lonely and had to compensate with work, but now that she is with you, she has the opportunity to relinquish some of the control and responsibility that comes with the job. Thank goodness Alcina is all too eager to pick up the slack.

ʚ♡ɞ In terms of personality dominance, those two definitely take the cake. It is, to an extent, a good cop bad cop dynamic, but they do agree on a lot of things. Like they agree you’re adorable. And beautiful and handsome. And that they want you. In many more ways than one. And also they agree that giving you your privacy is just as important as having their own. The last thing they want to do, especially Alcina, is to infantilize you. In the beginning, Larissa had to sit Alcina down for a very difficult discussion to explain her own behavior to herself. She pointed out that Alcina sort of suffocated you a bit, which was true. She was quite controlling—always wanting to be by your side, always preparing you for the worst. CLEARLY she has some trauma, but you get through it. Alcina is eternally grateful that Larissa felt confident enough to speak to her. Past partners have been forced into submissive silence by their own fear because Alcina is such a strong force of a woman. She is very loving, but can be harsh.

ʚ♡ɞ Larissa, on the other hand, is a doting lover. She texts your group chat every free second she gets. Sends you a picture of her meal in the privacy of her office to thank you for making lunch. You always respond with hearts or suggest the three of you call while you go about your lunch hour. She suggested you three try syncing up the time so you could see each other and spend a bit more time together - seeing as you all get home rather late sometimes. Alcina joins the call a bit later but greets you with warm hellos and asks how her “Sweet girls” are doing. Larissa is also the type to buy flowers. She adores them. Some people think it’s silly because they’ll just die if not taken care of, but she doesn’t think so. She comes home with bouquets in hand to make up for a stressful week or a particular stretch of time in which you three can’t see each other often. If Alcina goes away on a business trip, she’ll welcome her back with black roses and so many red kisses that the poor woman almost falls over. If you’re stumbling through the door at midnight after a long day doing whatever it is you do (I’m thinking business analyst or perhaps even owning your own shop), then she waits up and gives you a little single rainbow rose still in the plastic because she knows you like the novelty of it. Oh and kisses too of course.

ʚ♡ɞ That being said, you’re sort of the morally grey cop in the cop dynamic. Rarely do any of you do something to truly piss each other off or upset each other, but it does happen. If you somehow upset Alcina, Larissa sits you down for a chat while Alcina rants in the background. Alci is very passionate and does have a temper, but for all of her bluster and bark, a quick “Alcina, sit” from Larissa has her growling, rubbing her temples, and taking a seat in the living room with you two. From that point on, it’s only a matter of discussion. Alcina has a habit of keeping her feelings to herself until she blows up, but Larissa is very preemptive. She KNOWS such habits amongst you all could possibly ruin your relationship, so she tries her hardest to keep the peace. You and Alcina argue, but Larissa talks you through it until the calm is restored.

ʚ♡ɞ If they piss you off or upset you, you have a very difficult time talking to them about it. You’re a soft-hearted person for them and the last thing you want is to cause a rift, but if you don’t come to them about it first, they WILL find out. Your two lovers are extremely intelligent and very observant. Alcina can tell something is off by the slightest falter in your beating heart and Larissa can tell something is off if you speak a single word in a different tone. To them, you are an open book. And they know that they’re intimidating at times. Larissa is a sweetheart, yes, but her irritation is brutal. And Alcina is… Alcina. So it can be (understandably) quite hard. That’s why you’ve taken to texting them before they get home, asking them to chat in the living room or the bedroom. And if not that, then you speak to them separately. You go to their offices, sit and sort it out as best you can, and then the three of you regroup later. It’s the healthiest option…… but it doesn’t always work. You can get very insecure being with these two literal otherworldly women, so sometimes you just shut down instead. Hide within your thoughts and occupy yourself until you can’t anymore. It happened once where you were so upset and anxious that you stayed at your office and fell asleep. Larissa and Alcina were shit scared. They went searching for you there of course, and Alcina carried you to the car before Larissa drove you three home. It was a stressful experience but after you all talked it out in the morning, you promised to try and be more open - but only if they did the same.

ʚ♡ɞ HOWEVER, if you two somehow manage to piss off or upset Larissa Weems, it is Hell for you both. All three of you have a distinct bond that can’t be broken even with the sharpest of scissors. You’re all linked in some individual way, and it’s lovely, but it also means that you’re very soft on each other. And you and Alcina have a silent understanding that although Larissa can take care of herself, she is also highly deserving of all of the protection and love you give her. Meaning you don’t want to add to her stress. But when you do—she is a slow simmering ball of emotions. She may be loud at Nevermore when faced with Wednesday, but when it comes to her lovers, she just gets a bit disappointed. And that is something you and Alcina can’t handle. So when that happens, and she isn’t the one to put it back together or demand you all sit down and talk, that means you and Alci have to do the heavy lifting. So you do. Alcina pours glasses of wine, you put on some music, and the three of you sit in silence either working on your laptops or indulging in some hobbies until Larissa finally speaks up. She just needs to be in your presence, to recognize your quiet understanding that something is wrong, before she really gets into it. And after that, you of course make it a point to never repeat whatever it is you did to make her upset. And Alcina pulls her into her arms while you hug her from the back because you know Larissa appreciates the attention, the affection, and the warmth. Then you kiss. A lot. A lot a lot. Smooch smooch smooch muah muah muah.

ʚ♡ɞ When you call Larissa, she answers with a “Hello, darling” because she always checks the caller ID before picking up.

ʚ♡ɞ When you call Alcina, she answers with an “Alcina speaking.” because she never checks the caller ID before picking up.

ʚ♡ɞ You and Larissa called her once in the past and she answered with her usual, hard-toned greeting. When you and Larissa mocked her with a high-pitched “aLciNa sPeaKing”, she hung up and blocked your number for five minutes. Sometimes, you’re still tempted to do it.

ʚ♡ɞ You steal their perfumes and shampoos. One time, Alcina used Larissa’s conditioner and ever since, Larissa asks her if she should order two bottles of her hair care instead of one. Alcina just rolls her eyes and reaches out to grab her. Larissa goes scurrying away, letting out a yelp and a laugh.

When they cuddle you and smell their products, they only grin and pull you closer. They want you to share their things. And also you’re just too lazy to keep your own stocked.

ʚ♡ɞ Your kisses with Larissa, just you two, are sweet and slow. They last a long time and usually lead to wandering hands and a lot of lipstick marks. Larissa happily leaves marks and hickies on you, but the three of you understand that she can’t have the same. If someone at her job saw that, they’d probably complain. But below the clothes, she’s painted to high heaven. Alcina does, after all, have a very voracious appetite. She spends a lot of time kissing and marking because it soothes the dragon in her. And Larissa is just the same when it comes to you specifically. The marks never take to Alcina’s skin, so Rissa usually uses her teeth and tries to leave marks anyway. But on you, she takes full advantage. Teases you with hickies and bites until you’re begging her to move. To treat you. It’s unfortunate then that she’s just so busy and has to return to work and absolutely must leave you high and dry until you’re nearly crawling all over her when she returns home later.

ʚ♡ɞ Alcina’s kisses, on the other hand, are always mean and rough. She pushes your faces together, grabs your hair, clutches your jaw in one large hand. She’s eager to overpower - it’s just in her nature. And she’s not scared to lean down and reach you, pull you up into her arms, and shove you against a wall. She uses her teeth to nip, and her tongue to fill your mouth and take you completely. Safe to say, she never leaves her kisses without you stumbling away–breathless and smiley. And there’s no escaping her until she’s done with you. Never ever. You will only push away from her when she wants you to. And you rarely want to of course, but when you’re busy and late to a meeting, you’re under a time crunch.

ʚ♡ɞ Larissa and Alcina kissing, though… whew. Dear god, whew. Dear LORD, whew. Larissa’s hands go sliding around Alcina’s waist and she has to lean up on the tips of her toes to meet Alcina halfway. And when they get there, they smile first before kissing roughly. Alcina knows not to put her hands in Larissa’s perfect hair, so she settles for gripping the back of her neck and pulling her close. Close close close until Larissa lets out a squeak and Alcina has to lean and pick her up bridal-style so they both don’t go tumbling to the ground. It doesn’t happen often, but when she does, Larissa can only giggle giddy and happy. She doesn’t often feel petite and girlish, but Alcina has a way of making her feel like a woman worth caring for. You do too, of course, but it’s different. Not any less or any better, just different. And they kiss until they both run out of breath and Larissa pushes Alcina away. The taller woman grumbles and steals another kiss before they finally go their separate ways.

ʚ♡ɞ There’s so much more to this little poly relationship. From kinks to flaws to business work and all that. Let me know if you wanna see more <3

୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧

I love them :3 Yes I doooooo - Rip x

୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧

Tags: @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @bellatrixsbrat @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @hasthebaconinhispants @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @hopelessly-sapphic @barbarasstar @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @h-doodles @zillahofviolets-bayolet @weemssapphic @the-bearr @amateurwritescm

#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw fanfic #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x larissa weems #alrissa #alcina dimitrescu x reader x larissa weems #re8 alcina dimitrescu #wednesday larissa weems #wlw fic #wlw fiction

334 notes · View notes

cinebration · 8 months

Text

Too Slow For Me (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader) [One-shot]

Premise: Of all the bars in all the world, Jake had to walk into yours.

Tagged: @abaker74, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @the-romanian-is-bae, @b-bradshaw, @alldaysdreamers, @bat-luna-cat, @solo2leo, @lucy-sky

Warnings: none

Gif Source: topgundaily

When you were hired to work as a bartender for Penny Benjamin at her bar, you thought nothing of it. The Jake Seresin you knew, while an up-and-coming hotshot flyboy, would never make it to TOPGUN, not with his mouth and his inability to play well with others. Working in the bar would be safe, you were sure of it.

Until a year later when Jake walked through the door.

A shock of surprise blasted through you when you recognized his face across the room, heard the familiar sound of his voice. Like suddenly being doused in cold water, you shivered and felt your heartrate skyrocket.

There was nowhere to hide. As the only bartender on duty, you were obligated to stay behind the bar. You couldn’t run even as Jake crossed the room and headed directly to you.

Trying to quell the mounting panic in your chest, your skin suddenly unbearably itchy as sweat broke out beneath your armpits, you forced yourself to stay calm.

He stopped at the bar and leaned his forearms against it. “Two beers.”

He flashed a pearly white smile.

You felt as though you’d been punched in the stomach. Nodding jerkily, you faced away from him to find two beers and pop off their tops, your face burning.

He didn’t remember you.

You handed him the beers and wordlessly took the money he slapped down onto the countertop, everything within you screaming as you fought back the hot tears pushing insistently at the back of your eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, winking. “What’s your name?”

You quietly gave it to him. A faint crease rumpled his smooth brow.

“Don’t I—”

“Can I get two beers and a boilermaker?” another patron asked, raising their voice over Jake’s.

“Sure thing,” you answered with false cheer, scurrying away with relief to fetch the man’s drinks.

As Jake walked away to join his buddies, he glanced back over his shoulder as though to catch your eye, but you studiously avoided his gaze. Bitterness and pain flooded you as you kicked yourself for being stupid enough to think that working in a bar that catered to Navy pilots wouldn’t make you cross paths with him again.

Maybe, you realized, you had wanted to this happen. Maybe you had wanted the chance…

When you first met Jake, he was fresh out of flight school and hadn’t earned his call sign yet. You hadn’t recognized that his confidence was arrogance and his ego was outsized even for an Navy pilot. You couldn’t see past the charm, his grin, and the mischievous green eyes.

You never expected Jake to even look at you. He seemed to like girls faster than the jets he flew, and you were decidedly not one of them. As you once half-heartedly joked with your mother, you were invisible, particularly to anyone who looked even half as handsome as Jake.

So when he approached you one night, teeth gleaming and eyes glittering in the soft lighting of the bar, cozied up to you, and invited you out to dinner, you could hardly believe your luck. You pinched yourself more than once through the night, so surreal it all felt.

He took you to a middle-grade Italian restaurant that was better than getting pizza and beer but not very extravagant. You didn’t mind, preferring the food to the heavier, richer foods of high-end restaurants. The conversation was stimulating, Jake’s charisma out in full force and the banter crisp and light-hearted. You had never quite so clicked with anyone as you did with Jake that night.

As the evening wound to a close, you were excited to see him again. Before you could say as much, he leaned in toward your ear and whispered, “Why don’t we get out of here?”

Your heart plummeted. Swallowing thickly, you pulled away and muttered, “I’m not…I don’t think so.”

He frowned. “Why not? I thought we were getting along great.”

“We were—are. But…not on a first date.”

He stared at you, the glimmer in his eyes fading. Shaking his head, he exhaled heavily. “You’re too slow for me, sweetheart.”

And he left you standing there, cheeks burning and your stomach roiling.

You hadn’t eaten Italian since.

The night crawled. You exerted all of your energy trying to avoid looking in Jake’s direction or focusing on his voice as he crowed with his friends over winning shots at the dartboard or the pool table. You served drinks and faked smiles at everyone else that came up to the counter.

When the evening waned into the early morning hours, all that remained were Jake and his friends. You could hear the individual tick of the second hand of the clock over their laughter and raised voices, itching for it to be two a.m. so you could kick them out.

“Last call,” you finally yelled with relief.

Jake immediately sauntered over. You wanted to kick your own teeth out.

“Last round of beers for us,” he said, leaning against the counter.

Nodding, you counted heads and proceeded to collect the beer bottles.

“Don’t I know you?”

You froze, your heart thumping painfully in your chest. “No,” you answered. You popped open the first beer.

“Nah, I definitely know you”

You tried to pop off the caps faster, working furiously to hand them to him.

“Wait a minute…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing your face as you handed gave him the last of the beers.

“That’ll be thirty dollars.”

“You’re that girl. Italian dinner, no after party.”

Your cheeks burned. Ducking your head, you tapped the bar. “Thirty dollars.”

“Where’re the beers?” one of his friends called. “Hurry up, man!”

“How’ve you been?” Jake asked, frowning slightly as he dug around for his wallet.

“Why would you care?” you muttered, snatching the money from his hand. You scurried away from him to the opposite side of the room, hiding behind chores.

The group left before you had to kick them out at two. Relief made you slump into a chair with your head in your hands, your stomach slowly relaxing and releasing the knot it had been holding for hours. Somehow, Jake remembering you—or rather, how he had remembered you—was worse than him not recognizing you at first.

You took your time wiping down the tables and booths, stacking the chairs atop them so you could run a quick vacuum over the floor. The chores helped relax you, though bitter sadness lingered tartly in your mouth.

You locked up, debating how to tell Penny that you were quitting, and strode across the sand to the parking lot—where Jake and his friends had set up a stunt course with orange traffic cones, daring each other to do better as they screeched through the obstacle course. Cones went flying as each one clipped corners too hard or fumbled gear changes, the clutch grinding like a creature in the throws of pain.

You hesitated as you watched them, as you watched Jake laughing at his friends’ failures. Leaning against your car, you watched waited for his turn.

Climbing into the car, he revved the engine like he knew what he was doing and took off, burning rubber on the asphalt as he navigated the course. He clipped one cone, then two, before spinning out as a third snagged in the wheel-well.

Everyone laughed and talked shit as Jake climbed out of the car with a sheepish grin on his face. He shrugged it off and said, “Nobody can make this course, man.”

You pushed off your car, tossed your purse into it, and strode across the asphalt to Jake. He sobered as you approached, wariness diminishing the humor in his expression. You held out a hand for the keys.

“I wanna try,” you said.

A quiet ooooo rippled through the group.

“No offense,” he began.

You tore the keys from his hand.

“Uh, knock yourself out, I guess.”

“No way,” someone else said, shaking his head as you passed him to the car. “What’s a civilian gonna do? Total our car!”

You slipped into the driver’s seat and adjusted it before slamming the door shut, blocking out the naysaying crowd’s voices. Inhaling deeply, you glanced at the obstacle course, committing it to memory.

How’s this for fast? you thought savagely.

Kicking the car into gear, you shot forward into the opening of the track. With practiced hands, you shifted seamlessly through gears, the clutch almost purring with relief at not grinding. Coming up to the first pinched turn, you tore around it easily, the rear bumper of the car missing a cone by mere centimeters.

The thrill of the speed rushed through you, making the crowd and the circumstances drop away. You tore around the next turn, looked ahead to see that two scattered cones were a threat to your wheels.

Without hesitation, you slammed on the brakes, sending the car into a slide. Yanking the gear shift into reverse, you pivoted the car into another 180, sliding through both cones and whipping around to finish the last leg of the course.

You streaked through the other side, not a single cone touched in your wake.

Cheers thundered in the silence of the night as you killed the engine and exited the car.

“Un-fucking-believable!” someone shrieked. “Did you see that!?”

The only woman in the group was grinning, a “Niceeeee” hissing past her lips.

Jake trotted up to you. “That was—”

You tossed the keys at his chest. He had to scoop them off the asphalt as you strode across the parking lot to your car.

“Hey, wait a minute.” He hurried to your side. “I want to talk to you.”

“What for?”

He blinked. “I want to buy you a drink, catch up.”

You stopped abruptly, adrenaline still flooding your veins. You stared him directly, the first time you had been able to meet his eye all night. He took a step back under the force of your gaze.

“Why?”

“Because…you’re interesting.”

“I was always interesting, dipshit. You just didn’t stick around to find out,” you snarled.

You took off to your car, leaving him standing there. He tried to catch up, but you were too fast for him.

#Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin imagine #Hangman x Reader #Hangman #Hangman imagine #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin imagine #Glen Powell x Reader #Glen Powell #Glen Powell imagine #Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM

768 notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months

Text

What Does The Moo Cow Say? » Sebastian Stan

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Sebastian Stan x Wife/Mom!Reader with daughter Hazel

Summary: Sebastian teaches his daughter what the moo cow says.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, nicknames for daughter (princess/prinţesă), pet names for Y/N (sweetheart/dragă)

A/N: I used Google translate for the Romanian translations. tati: daddy, prinţesă: princess, dragă: sweetheart

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

I found the edit below on Pinterest. Credit goes to whoever made it.

Ever since yours and Sebastian’s 4 year old daughter Hazel started preschool, she’s been really excited to learn. Counting and ABC’s are her current favorite. As of right now Sebastian is teaching her what sounds animals make.

“Let’s start off with something easy. What kind of animal is this?” Sebastian asks Hazel while showing her a picture of a dog.

“Doggie!” Hazel answers.

“That’s right, prinţesă.” He smiles. “What does the doggie say?” He asks her.

“Bow wow!” She answers.

“Good job! You’re so smart, prinţesă!” He says, making her smile widely.

“What kind of animal is this?” He asks, showing her a picture of a cat.

“Kitty!” Hazel says excitedly.

Cats are her favorite animal. The majority of her stuffed animals are cats.

“What does the kitty say?” Sebastian asks her.

“Meow meow!” She says, trying her best to impersonate a cat.

“Great job, prinţesă!” He smiles. “What about this one? What kind of animal is this?” He asks her, showing her a picture of a cow.

“Moo cow!” Hazel answers.

“What does the moo cow say?” He asks.

Hazel let out a scream, catching Sebastian off guard and making him laugh. You heard the scream from downstairs and immediately ran upstairs to Hazel’s bedroom to see her and your husband on the floor laughing.

“What’s with the screaming? I heard it in the kitchen.” You say.

“I was teaching Hazel what sounds animals make.” Sebastian tells you.

“That still doesn’t explain the scream.” You say.

“Hazel, tell mommy what the moo cow says.” He says.

Hazel looked up at you and screamed, making her and Sebastian burst into laughter again. You quickly understood and started laughing.

“Good job, princess, but no more screaming in the house.” You tell her.

“Ok, mommy.” Hazel says.

“That applies to you too, Mr. Stan.” You say, looking at your husband.

“I wasn’t the one screaming.” Sebastian says.

“I know, but you’re the one who showed Hazel a picture of a cow.” You say.

“It’s called moo cow, mommy!” Hazel corrects you.

“Yea, get it right, dragă.” He says jokingly.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your husband and daughter.

“When you two are done making moo cow sounds, I need help putting the groceries away.” You say.

“Did you get Pop Tarts?” Hazel asks curiously.

“Yes. I got your favorite flavor.” You tell her.

“Come on, tati! Pop Tart time!” She says, pulling on Sebastian’s t-shirt to get him to stand up.

You two smiled at her cuteness. Sebastian stood up and picked up Hazel.

“The moo cow says AHHHHHH!” Hazel says, making you and Sebastian burst out into laughter.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sebastian stan #seb stan #sebby stan #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x wife!reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #husband!sebastian stan #dad!sebastian stan #wife!reader #mom!reader

178 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 5 months

Text

The Apprentice - Part 5 (NSFW)

Ohhh boy. This was a big one.

Warnings: Sex, p in v, romance, small angst, little fluff, mostly smut, barely proofred (it's 12:30am here right now, but plot was required to be written)

Word count: 6,888

Disclaimer: I do not speak Romanian, resources were googled. Iubițel is a men's term of endearment (meaning: sweetheart, lover and darling), Iubi is it's feminine counterpart, puișor is something like "dove" or "small animal", and draga mea is "my dear".

Part 4 here, Masterlist here.

As the wooden dock of Baratie began to bring itself within your sights; a warm, giddy smile drew itself onto your face. You had never seen its equal; a large floating restaurant in the middle of the ocean. The smells wafting from the building was enough to overcome your senses; sweets, savouries and a smoke-forward smell from an open firepit engulfing you in your approach.

You felt a hand creep along your upper forearm to rest itself atop your shoulder, prompting you to rise your gaze up to meet with the bearded jaw of your sword master. Your eyes upturned and your brows furrowed in anticipation, truly not knowing where these next few moments would take you.

Sensing your unease, Mihawk drew you into himself; cradling his arms around you and pulling you into his torso. You felt eclipsed by his warmth, his heat overwhelming you; prompting you to flitter your eyes shut against his bare chest beneath his lengthy overcoat. The small crossed blade felt warm to the touch as your chin fell towards the hilt at his neck; Mihawk’s chin rest atop your head as he brought his other arm to complete his embrace. You felt his lips possessively press themselves against your hair, his silken dark and cropped beard scraping lightly against your forehead as he completed the chaste caress.

Feeling overwhelmed by anticipation, you sighed out against his chest; almost feeling a similar sense falling from his own body in a more refined and controlled way. You felt drawn back to a moment from the very beginning of your ‘true apprenticeship’ beneath the mighty warlord as he held you now clasped into his chest: one such moment where he deemed you truly worthy to challenge him equipped with Yoru.

------

A rough growl escaped from your lips; frustration fleeing as you launched yourself forward to strike another blow towards your sword master’s belly, only for him to successfully jolt forwards to meet your blade with his own.

“Come now, Apprentice,” he reprimanded you with a taunting sarcasm purring at you, “is that any way to behave?”

Your lips curled into a snarl as you flurried your balanced blade in a circular motion to break away yourself from his contact.

Eight hours. You had been at this for hours; eight of them, in fact. Dracule Mihawk was barely breaking a sweat as you continued to push yourself over the edge of exertion to chase the opportunity to land a single blow against his stance. The opportunity Mihawk had presented you was to disarm him only once, a single blow, and he would allow you to have a week off from his harsh training regimen.

He had you working hard for the past few weeks: training your body for him day in and day out. Your day would commence as soon as the rays of the dawn would break through the horizon line, to the setting sun would flee from the clouds; leaving hints of purple and teal within its departure. Your body was broken, was worn out, exhausted; yet you continued to push forward.

Skin cracked and littered with small, sharp, exact wounds; you attempted to sweep your legs forward in hopes of a break in swordplay would disarm your opponent. Your lengthy skirt flurried out, fanning at your ankles as you attempted to sweep his while dodging his large blade from impacting you further.

Graduating from duelling the small dagger hanging loosely from his neck was a mighty feat in and of itself. He finally deemed you worthy to be at the business end of Yoru, his extremely large sword towering over your perfectly proportioned one as you dodged an incoming thrust from him. He was aiming for your chest, prompting you to dodge while leaning away from him; arching your back and tilting your head to the side.

A small smirk pulled at his lips as he stepped into your oncoming attack, bringing his knee forward suddenly towards your ribcage. You gasped a whimper and completely dropped to your knees in a last ditch attempt to bring yourself away from his oncoming onslaught.

Your head hung low as your breaths hissed out exhausted puffs of air in an attempt to fill the overused lungs within the chasms of your chest. Your eyes prickled with frustrated tears. Exhaustion raked at you with its claws, a heavy weight baring down on you as you readied yourself for another well-timed and thought out insult falling from the lips of your boss.

In its stead, you heard footsteps circling your body, bringing themselves to the front of you. Your eyes met with the blackened leather boots of the mighty warlord who had taken you under his wing for training.

Feeling a small scratch against your throat, the blunt end of Yoru found its way to your chin while the piercing tip threatened to break through the skin of your throat. You gulped to rid yourself of the dryness within your mouth at the action, your tongue flicking out to dampen your dry lips from the prior overexertion.

“Eyes-,” he commanded you in a low taunt, feeling the cool edge of the mighty blade flick your chin to tilt your head towards him, “-on-,” his boots shuffled, his body falling closer to your own, “-me.”

You scrunched your nose up and furrowed your brows at him, before apprehensively bringing your gaze forward to meet his intense amber stare. You scowled at him through your eyelashes, your lips crawling upwards to bare your teeth at him in displeasure; a smirk rising to his own lips.

“There you are,” he taunted you, bringing himself closer; stooping his body down towards you. You broke your eyes away from his and off to the side, ashamed at yourself for failing to land no impact on his body over the past daily trial.

He clicked his tongue at you, disciplining you for your retreating gaze; “no, no, Apprentice. Let me see those eyes. Let me get a glimpse of your fury.”

You snapped your gaze back towards him, your chin still remaining collected above the flat end of the large sword. You arched your body upwards towards him, maintaining eye contact while pressing the sharpened edge further into your neck. Eyes darkening, you arched your back upwards; paying your skirt no heed as it blew within the wind beneath your knees on the ground.

“Good girl,” he smirked, tapping your chin once more before releasing it from the end of the blade and twirling it to the side of his body, “show passion in your mastery, and never relinquish your gaze in the face of defeat. Learn.”

You ignored the comment he made, alongside the chills that spring from your tailbone up your spine to collect itself tangibly at the follicles on your neck; prompting the hair to stand on edge at his condescending praise.

“You had but one task,” he taunted you, ushering you to rise to your feet with a curl of his index finger on his left hand, “you were to disarm me, and we would call it a day.”

You growled again through your clenched jaw, Mihawk chuckling at the reverberations presenting themselves from your chest.

”And we need to work on your noises, Apprentice,” he reprimanded you, “can’t have you whining like a braying Jennet in anticipation of being mounted by her overzealous Moke when you’re conquered.”

The shock of his comment attempted to break onto your face, relieving your skin from its permanent scowl; but fortunately your frown held its ground. His taunt made the fury rise further within your chest further as you readied yourself to respond to him.

You reclaimed the handle of your blade, rising to your feet swiftly at his latest challenge. His smirk broadened at the sight, almost giddy at your willingness to continue.

“My lord,” you commented once your breath returned to you, “I hope you’ll find-,” you rose your non-dominant hand up towards your waist, “-I don’t back away from a challenge so easily.”

“That remains to be seen, yes,” he confirmed with you, leaning back onto his bent leg in anticipation for your incoming attack, “but you do require discipline with the tones fleeing from your lips in combat. I hope to break you away from the habit.”

You huffed out an air of frustration while side-stepping him in a slow, calculated motion.

“I am your humble pupil, my lord,” you confirmed, a smirk rising to your lips as your fingertips found the tie of your skirt and began to tug on it, “and I think you’ll find that I know more than one way of disarming a man.”

At that comment, you released your waist from your lengthy skirt, brandishing it within your non-dominant hand and flourishing the material beside yourself while launching your blade towards him in the wake of his distraction. In nothing more than your tight training shirt and lingerie, you managed to brush your blade on the lefthand shoulder of the dark-haired, amber-eyed Dracule Mihawk; successfully landing a whisper of a disarming blow against him.

His eyes widened in shock as he raked his gaze over your exposed lower body before trailing them back up to meet with your gaze. He narrowed his eyes at you and stepped towards your body; placing Yoru firmly within the ground by sinking the blade into the hard soil and using his dominant hand to collect the wrist you were using to flurry the material within.

Baring his gaze down into your own, you couldn’t help the smug expression from drawing itself onto your cheeks at the knowledge that you had successfully disarmed your trainer with something as unexpected as utilising your skirt as a material shield while you struck him.

“Apprentice,” his tone warned you, prompting the smile to drop from your face at his reprimand. Your chest filled with anxiety at his disciplinary and authoritarian voice, feeling yourself cower away from him. He gripped your chin with his non-dominant hand and held you firmly, forcing your eyes to remain firmly fixated onto his own.

His lips curled into a warm smile, his voice softening; “that was incredibly clever.”

You gasped at his praise, feeling disarmed yourself at the softness he utilised within his tone and also how his hands felt as he held your wrist and your face within his calculated clutches.

“Well done,” he commended you with a humming tone, a smirk drawing itself to his face in place of the soft smile. He released your wrist and chin from within his clutches and turned away from you, making his way towards the mighty castle atop Kuraigana island and calling to you over his shoulder, “now come. I have a vintage for you to sample as a reward for your efforts.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and hung your head. You felt the tug of a small smile begin to rise upon your cheeks once more before the emotion halted at the warlord’s next words: “and do try to at least keep your skirt on for this next venture. I’d hate to see you come undone further in your training today, swords or otherwise.”

The air all but relinquished itself from your lungs at his comment, fury building instead of your prior pride at besting the swordsman.

---------

“We have arrived,” he commented atop your head, tracing the flesh of your shoulders beneath his thumbs. You rose your own to rest against his hips, holding firm to your grasp but pushing his body from yourself in preference of the view of his broad-hat adorned face.

“How do we locate our mark, Luffy was it?” you asked him, quirking up your brow and tilting your head to the side.

“Work, work, work,” he chastised you with a low, purred taunt, floating his hawk-like gaze between your two orbs, “I appreciate your loyalty to completing the task that lies ahead, Apprentice.”

“You’ll find that’s not all a task I’m loyal to completing this night, my lord,” you whispered up into him; lips almost brushing with your eyes becoming half-lidded, as they bore into your mentor flirtatiously.

A low rumbly growl escaped from between his lips, a noise that seemed completely involuntary in nature; surprising the both of you. You giggled, raising your lefthand fingertips to hold firm against his lips and giving him a soft push away from your body. You felt the tingle of his moustache against the tips of your fingers as you traced his lips with them, halting them against his lower lip.

“Now, now, my lord. What has come over you?” you hummed at him, drawing your face closer towards him and arching your body upwards into his chest further, “I thought you weren’t one for engaging in lewd and overzealous vocalisations.”

He immediately released your shoulders from his grasp and claimed your left wrist at his face and pulled it towards his mouth, trailing his beard-clad lips over your forearm and upwards towards your bicep with a trail of passionate, open mouthed kisses. A gasp was immediately pulled from your lips at his action, his lips now finding themselves attached to your shoulder and drawing further into your neck, prompting your jaw to fall slack, brows furrow upwards and you to arch your neck to expose more of your skin towards his affectionate and relentless attack.

“M-my lord?” you questioned him, prompting another feral growl to fall from his lips and muffle themselves at your neck, “m-my lord, we’re not yet docked at Baratie.”

He bore his teeth into your shoulder as he bit the skin and sucked a harsh, red mark into your flesh where your shoulder met with your neck; a hissed gasp falling from your lips at the harsh action he was presenting against you. You closed your eyes at the feeling, his tongue swirling at your skin and raking his teeth upwards towards the shell of your ear.

“You make a fair point, Apprentice,” he whispered into your ear before completely retracting his body from you. A small whimper escaped your lips at his departure, a smirk rising itself against the lips of the great warlord of the sea. He moved his body to the navigator’s pole and steered the ship effortlessly to align itself against the peer of Baratie.

He gestured to one of the men at the makeshift peer as your ship had begun its descent to lie adjacent at the wooden dock at the base of the sailing restaurant to throw a looped rope towards the ship. Your body began moving on its own, immediately readying yourself to catch the rope thrust into the air with ease. Feeling the fibrous material within your fingertips, you began to secure the ship with it, under the doting and watchful gaze of your mentor who’s eyes softened in a way only meant for you.

After securing the ship against the wooden dock, you turned to face him once again; straightening up your shoulders and lacing your fingertips to hang lowly behind your back. He raked his eyes over your body, face remaining completely expressionless as he did so. You remained stationary as he moved to circle your body, examining your form as a general would inspect the uniform of their underling in search for any blemish beneath his hawk-like gaze.

“The ship is secure, sir,” you informed him confidently, looking through the corner of your eye to witness him completing his circular inspection. He halted in front of your right shoulder, stooping low and bringing his index finger and thumb to your chin; tilting your face towards his.

“So it is,” he uttered, leaning his face forward to bring his lips up to your cheekbone, His lips ghosted over your face, stalking you with his intimate touch as he raked them lower towards your lips.

As his lips travelled to lie at the corner of your mouth, you shut your eyes; feeling his fingertips drag themselves over your shoulders, down your forearms and still themselves against the hilt of your belt. He tugged his hand against your belt, pulling you closer to himself as his lips finally found their way back against your own.

You froze, unsure of how to respond in this moment. Mihawk furrowed his brows, feeling your hesitation against his lips and breaking away from them. His eyes remained shut as he pressed his forehead against your own, asking you: “why do you hesitate, Apprentice? You were so eager to engage in such a manner earlier.”

You exhaled a breath you did not know you were holding, relieved at his question.

“The dynamic, sir,” you voiced your concern in a small, reluctant voice, “I desire to return your affections to you, but-.”

“-This will not impact your training, draga mea,” he whispered against your lips, bringing one hand to cradle your cheek, “in fact, I desire to train you harder.”

You leant into his touch, feeling his remaining hand resting against your belt flick open the buckle; the leather strap falling slack against your waist. You instinctively drew your hand out to catch your scabbard to ensure your blade did not fall to the floor, grasping it firmly in your hand. Mihawk chuckled, prompting you to open your eyes to be greeted with a warm and sincere smile upon his moustache-clad lips. Your eyes softened, lips parting at the sight while you openly drew your eyes over his face to permanently brand the image into your mind.

He was so, unbelievably handsome. You had only ever seen this particular smile briefly once prior; when you bested him with your skirted flourish: the image returning to your mind. You stood atop your toes to press a chaste kiss against his smiling lips, withdrawing them quickly to ensure his smile remained.

“When you are without your blade at your hilt or in your hand,” he informed you, the wide smile leaving his face and momentarily replaced my its softer counterpart, “you are my iubi, my puișor-,” he raked his fingers over your cheek to fall within your hair, pooling the strands to fasten themselves behind your ear, “-my equal.”

A gasp fled itself from your lips as you focussed on his words, your gaze fluttering between his amber eyes in search for hidden agenda; finding only desire in its wake.

“You are first and foremost my apprentice,” he informed you again, breaking his forehead away from yours as he leant upwards from his stoop, “and I would not want this to ruin the rapport we have built between us: especially the taunting.”

“I do enjoy your taunting now, my lord-,” you began, only to have your comment halted by the warlord’s words.

“-Mihawk,” he informed you, gesturing to the sword in your hand, “while you are unequipped, to you I am Mihawk; or any other endearment that falls from your lips to bestow to me.”

He placed his lips against your forehead, pulling you into himself as he affectionately held you against him. You smiled into his caress, your hands finding their way around his waist to pull his body flush against yours once more. You felt on his back the large scabbard containing his mighty blade still remaining clutched against him. You flicked it with your right hand, bringing Mihawk’s lips away from your head in response.

“You remain armed,” you commented, arching your brow upward in question, “do you desire first to locate our mark-?” you trailed your index finger upwards to fall against his bearded jaw, tracing its way towards his mouth and pressing your thumb against his lower lip. You arched your chin upwards and looked up at his honeyed eyes through your eyelashes; “-or do you long to join me below deck?”

His eyes widened at your abrasiveness while a curl befell to his lips as he broke away from your embrace, rotating his shoulders back to rid itself of the harness containing the scabbard of Yoru and firmly lying the blade beside his captains-chair. The giddy feeling once again rose within flutters of your chest, warmth drawing itself to your cheeks as he drew his attention back to you. He beckoned for you to follow him below deck with a tilt of his chin upwards with his signature smirk once again returning before strutting himself beneath the deck. You grinned like the cat that ate the canary, rotating your shoulders back and clicking your neck upwards before placing your own scabbard beside your master’s at his chair.

Your feet rapped against the wooden floorboards of the coffin-shaped vessel, your head bowing ever so slightly to fall beneath the frame of the lower deck entrance. Feet falling effortlessly against the steps below, you felt two hands rise up out of the darkness and grip your hips in a tight vice, lifting your body down to the depths in the dimly lit corridor.

There he was; your mentor and sword instructor, a man possessed by feral intensity and complete abandonment to prior mentality of taking his time, dragging you down into the depths of the corridor and pressing you by your hips against the wooden walls within. The rays of the sun flittered through the port windows to bring some semblance of light casting shadows against the bare back of Dracule Mihawk; who seemed to have ridden himself of his great-cloak and feathered hat impatiently as he waited for you to descend.

His lips drew themselves against your pulse, grazing his teeth against the skin and pressing his lips over the mark he drew onto you moments earlier to deepen the shade. Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes squeezed shut in surprise, his leather clad knee pressing between your thighs as he drew himself closer into you. Lacing your arms around his neck, you felt him lift you effortlessly once more to angle his entire body between your legs; bullying you to reveal more of your clothed self against him. He hooked both of your knees over his hips as he nudged the material of your shirt with his bearded chin to expose more flesh for him to assault with his tongue and teeth.

You were expecting ferocity, but clearly missed the intensity of his relentless abandon. In your training with swords, Mihawk was always completely in control of his actions. Precise and akin to a surgeon, he would always meet his mark with swiftness and cleanliness. He would often reprimand you for your own ferocity within the heat of combat as he lazily drank a glass of crimson wine as he studied your form, critiquing you on your lack of control.

“M-Mihawk,” you uttered in a small voice, prompting him to break away his rage from your body to snap his sights upwards. You felt small within his hunted gaze, his eyes widening at your expression and slightly wavering his hold against you.

“I apologise, puișor,” he gasped into you, holding you completely stabilized by his hips pinned to the wall and bringing his hands up to caress your cheek and neck repentantly, “the intensity of our little dalliance over this past month seemed to have rattled me more than I expected.”

He kissed your chin, his moustache tickling your bottom lip as he did so. He caressed your cheek before firmly clasping it within his palm and steadying your face within it, bringing his eyes up once more to stare within your own.

“You are my equal here,” he emphatically phrased to you with confidence, “not my prey.”

He lowered you to the floor and pressed his lips against your cheek and lowered the hand clutching your neck to claim a hand lying at your side within his own.

“It has been a while since either of us have had an encounter with another intimately,” you stated in a low tone, bringing your own hand up to press against his cheek, “I don’t blame you in the slightest for your intensity. I was simply caught off-guard.”

Mihawk began to open his mouth to chastise you, his apprentice, for dropping your guard; only for his words to halt within his throat regarding his earlier relinquishment of that title to you. You smiled as you watched his mind search for an appropriate quip, only for his lips to be met with your own as you chased him. His lips felt soft, but blown out and swollen from his earlier bruising intensity. His slower movements feeling more affectionate than marking ferociously.

Breaking away from your lips, murmuring in a hairlines distance from them; “I thought you wanted to see me angry. To see how truly desperate I am to feel you within my arms once more.” Your eyes widened, recollecting your prior conversation with the red-haired pirate within the onsen:

“Good girl,” the redhead praised you in a low tone before whispering, “now let’s make him angry.” He brought his lips within close proximity with your own but holding them away from completing their connection with your own out of respect for your prior apprehension. He squinted his eyes into a broad smile as he held your gaze, prompting you to allow a small, nervous smile to fall over your own.

You never thought you would have the opportunity to see him like this; your sword master and mentor desperately wanting to overwhelm you with ravenous intensity as he held you in his arms but withholding truly for your comfort.

It began with you wishing to finally be rid of his apprenticeship due to resentment, flowering into a semblance of mutual respect for wine while training you in mastery of your craft. Now it had truly blossomed into something more feral; the month of dancing the line between insubordination and true obedience with more exact flirtations coming crashing at this moment.

“As per your earlier invitation, I desire to have you intimately,” he sighed his confession against your lips as he brought his hands up to hold your cheeks within his grip, “and then I think I’d follow that act with a vendange tardives before locating our mark and extracting him.” He sighed, looking to the floor before once again searching your eyes.

“What do you want from me, iubi?” Mihawk whispered into your face, his breath blowing against your chin. His tone harboured a small amount of pleading desperation, truly desiring to be with you but withholding himself as he restrained his affections from you.

“My lord-,” you began, halting your words and correcting yourself under his searching gaze, “-Mihawk-.” He smiled again at your title, pleased you managed to catch your mistake.

“-Iubițel,” you uttered affectionately into him with your eyes half-lidded, swaying your head at him with a small smile forming against your lips, “-It’s dark here, and I don’t want to miss a single moment. I want you, and I want to at least see you the first time we engage like this.”

You felt him release a sigh of relief into you, prompting a small giggle to rise within your chest. Immediately he stooped down and lifted you once more by your thighs, hoisting you upwards into him and carrying you finally towards your crew quarters.

“I like the title,” he admitted to you in a purr, utilising his back to push open the door; the light flooding against his body under the illuminance from the broad bay windows facing outwards into the ocean, “though your accent is another thing I fear I need to drill into you.”

“Training hours are officially concluded by your orders, iubițel,” you warned him as he turned to place you atop his hanging bunk, “the only drilling I am keen to receive-,” you curled your finger beneath his chin to angle his face upwards to hold his lips almost against you own, uttering in a low whisper; “-is from the cock trapped beneath your pants.”

A rough growl fled from his lips as he crawled atop his perch, completely caging you beneath him as his lips found your own. A month of pent up emotion finally granted permission to release itself within the arms of one another. Three years of vigorous training and getting to know each other in all aspects other than this one area of taboo entanglement finally being released as his hands located the material shielding your lower half from revealing yourself to him.

He pushed the material lower, you arching your back upwards as your lips found his, pressing a warm and open kiss against his lips; completely submitting to his dominance. He smirked into your kiss, completely pushing your pants and overskirt from your body along with your undergarments; pooling the material at your ankles. You kicked the material to be completely rid of them, the soft thud of the material falling to the floor prompting a small laugh to flee from you at the giddiness you felt from the warlord above you.

Trailing his lips from your lips to brush against your check, before his teeth began to nip and graze at your jaw; Mihawk pushed the fabric of your shirt to reveal your shoulder and clavicle to submit itself to his fingertips. You utilised his momentary distraction to bring your feet upwards towards his hips, your toes successfully locating the buckle fastening his pants securely covering himself.

You threw your head back and gasped as he began to grasp at your breasts and mould them beneath his palms, halting your prior action. He smirked against your neck, causing you to harden your resolve and pick the lock of his belt buckle with your toes, successfully unclasping the buckle and removing his pants from his hips by dragging the leather material downwards with your heels.

He gasped in surprise into your neck as he felt the slap of his hard cock meet with his stomach, catching him off guard with your eagerness.

“Iubi-,” he growled into you, his teeth meeting the flesh just above your areola; his brows furrowing and his grip holding firmly against you, “-I made it clear I wanted to take my time.”

A small giggle fled from your lips as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh as he crawled further upwards and caged you below himself. He reached his right hand down towards your left thigh and raked his spread fingertips down your thigh to claim your knee beneath his palm and hook it over his hips.

“I wouldn’t be laughing, if I in your place,” he warned you, his tone halting the humour in your throat. He brought his lips down to the shell of your right ear and whispered into it; “I wanted to have you yearn for me as much as I do you. I wanted to taste every inch of you until your mind was rid of any utterance of coherent thought other than how good I make you feel.”

Your eyes widened as he maneuvered his left leg over your right and rake his other hand down to claim your right thigh and lift it over his waist, his cock lying flush against your pubic bone, uttering darkly: “I wanted to feel you squirm and quiver beneath me multiple times as I basked in your pleasure alone, witnessing your toes curl and legs shake at the complete intensity I grant onto to you.”

Your jaw hung slack as you felt your pussy clench under his crass words, completely soaked in anticipation of his next action. His tongue flicked out to trace the shell of your ear, a shudder overcoming you as a whine fled from your lips. Your nipples hardened as his breath felt cool under the stripe he traced with his talented tongue.

“But, unfortunately,” he whispered into your neck, “you have a keen sense for bringing out the worst in me.”

You felt the tip of his cock press itself against your entrance, your eyebrows furrowing in anticipation as you fluttered your eyes shut in expectation. You felt his weight shift and his head leave the side of your face to hover over your own.

“Eyes-,” he whispered, nudging your chin with his nose, “-on-,” your eyes flickered open to meet with his lips, “-me.” Your eyes floated up to search his amber orbs, a smile falling to his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss against your lips before retracting them.

“There you are,” he gasped at you, smoothing over your hair with his right hand, “good girl.” Your eyes glazed over at his commendation but remaining held to his yellow, hawk-like gaze. You felt your pussy involuntarily clench around nothing, eager to be filled and claimed by the man above you.

His eyes shifted from their softness to an intimidating and fierce expression once again as his tip prodded against your soaked cunt. You gasped, feeling the girth of his cock measured against your hole, poking in a small precise motion against you and slowly pressing into yourself. A groan escaped his lips as he sheathed his tip completely, halting to give you opportunity to adjust to his size.

You held his gaze, your peripherals noticing his jaw began to slack and brows furrow against the feeling of stretching you to size. He brought his left hand down to cage your head, right hand steadying your high against his hips as he continued to sink down into you. You hissed as he continued to push himself into you, feeling the muscles of his lower abdomen shift to withhold himself from commencing a relentless and unforgiving pace without you being fully prepared and stretched for him.

You had taken lovers prior, but none that had managed to completely listen to your body and its responses in this completely controlled way, instead enthralled in seeking their own pleasure and you your own. You found yourself desperately wanting to please him, but unable to pull your eyes away from his own as he completely sheathed himself within you; his cock arching up to brush against your g-spot while his pelvis and pubis raked effortlessly and skilfully against your clit.

A sigh-like cry fled from your lips to meet out and harmonise with the low groan falling from the lips of the warlord; his eyes the first to tear away from your own as he retracted down to the tip before shifting back into you once more; hitting the exact same spot as it did prior with surgical and calculated precision.

“Wanted-,” Mihawk gasped out as he began to pick up his pace, “-to unravel you-,” he growled, his pace beginning to become ferocious as his hips painfully clapped against your own, “-and make you scream for me.”

You brought your wrist up to clasp your left palm over your lips to muffle your cries of pleasure beneath it. Mihawk immediately snapped his head upwards your own and claimed your left wrist within his right hand and forced it above your head, lacing his fingers within them.

“Now’s not the time to withhold your sounds, draga mea,” he captured your lips within his own, his lips releasing a groan of his own as his pace began to build up in intensity. You felt the familiar tightening of the pit in your stomach bind tightly together; tingles shooting down to your toes laced atop the hips of the warlord above you.

He pulled his left hand over to guide your right hand to his back, instinctively pulling at the flesh and raking your fingernails down his flesh to leave red stripes of passion trailing from his shoulder blade to his ribcage; a groan-like whimper falling from his lips into your own.

As his vocalisation falling into your mouth, your eyes began to roll back into your head and your lips became desperate in its attachment against his own as heat began to pool upwards in your chest and your mind became foggy at your approaching orgasm.

Mihawk broke his lips away from your own and pulled his left hand to hold your chin, prompting your gaze to fall back to meet with his own; his jaw clenched tightly and pupils blown with lust.

“If you’re going to cum on my cock,” he panted out between dishevelled puffs of air, “you’re going to hold your gaze firm to me as you do so.”

You furrowed your brows and managed to form a coherent sentence, much to both your and Mihawk’s surprise: “-I don’t back away from a challenge so easily.”

Mihawk snarled with a small smirk following your challenge, baring his relentless and unforgiving pace further diving into the depths of your soaked cunt with his painfully hard cock. He almost tore his own gaze away from your own as he became overwhelmed with the flutters of your inner walls at the approach of your orgasm.

You held contact between your eyes as you felt your inner walls clench around his cock, the tightly wound coil within the pit of your stomach feeling tightly bound as Mihawk’s movements actively sought out the release from your body.

“M-Mi-,” you began, your jaw falling slack and eyes beginning to prick at the corners under the intensity, “Mihawk, I’m-,” his eyes began to glaze over, the yellow almost dissipating with how truly taken he was with hunting your pleasure alongside his own, “I’m going to-.”

“Cum on my cock,” he ordered you, his fingers flattening against your jaw with his thumb remaining below your chin to hold your gaze firmly against his, “let me see you snap.”

At his words, the coil within you shattered; tingles shooting down your legs and lower stomach as you screamed his name with reckless abandon; his own orgasm triggered in response to your soul calling for his as they met in a dance of mutual pleasure. Ribbons of hot cum shot within your core, pooling within the back of your completely dishevelled cunt. Mihawk called your name and a string of incoherent Romanian words you had yet to comprehend as his body shuddered against your own completely ridding himself within the thralls of pleasure; succumbing to the call of your femininity.

Your breaths met as your eyes held firmly against each other’s; Mihawk being the first to fall his face into yours after coming down from his high to press his lips against yours in a tender and slow kiss. His curled black hair fell over his eyes and onto your forehead below him as he reached his hand down to unhook your legs from behind his body and pull his cock from your walls slowly.

You felt the pool of the cocktail of pleasured release fall away from your entrance and fall onto the sheets of his bed. Mihawk chuckled at your whine in protest of being completely empty of his body from its place above your own.

“Iubi,” he whispered into you, bringing his right hand to cradle your face within his palm. You pressed your lips against his warm hand, uttering back the title you gave to him in playful response: “Iubițel.”

He sighed against you, pressing his forehead against your own and whispering lovingly into your face, you enchanted by the beauty of his afterglow: “let’s get you cleaned up, vendange tardives at Baratie with some camembert, gorgonzola and quince paste sounds like the perfect end to an evening.”

You giggled at him, sitting yourself up on your elbows beneath him; nuzzling your nose against his own.

“And what of the job we were tasked to complete? Are you going to blame this one on me also?” you quirked up at him, your eyes innocently searching his face.

“Let them have their fun for a while,” he responded, reaching up to your hair and tucking it behind your ear in response, “it’s only early in the evening, draga mea. We could even sample some of the reds at the bar after our dessert wine.”

“Breaking your sacred wine rules, are we?” you teased him while furrowing your brows.

“That is likely not the only rules we’ve broken today,” he confirmed with his signature smirk while crawling backwards off of his suspended perch and reaching his arms towards your own to pull you towards him, “but pay that no mind now. I have something I’d like to see you wear.”

You quirked your head to the side in question, your legs hanging over the side of the bed before Mihawk lifted you against his warm torso and placed you onto the ground; hovering his arms to steady you. He sought out your gaze by lowering his face to you and capturing your attention.

“You have no need to equip yourself at Baratie,” he informed you with a softness to his eyes, “the task was appointed to me, and I do not desire to relinquish it to you.”

“What would you have me do, Mihawk? I am your apprentice and I am here to learn from you,” you asked him, unsure waters lying ahead at his comment and needing further clarification.

“You will simply be my Iubi,” he whispered into you, “not only my apprentice, but my lover. My sweetheart, and my darling. Whatever role you choose to don yourself with tonight; I plan on wooing you aboard Baratie further.”

“Vendage Tardives?” you asked him with a soft smile falling to your face.

“Vandage Tardives,” he confirmed, pressing his lips against your forehead in a gentle caress.

Tag List:

@sapphireonline, @whatthemonsterfuckisthis

#one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #mihawk #mihawk fic #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #opla mihawk #one piece mihawk

283 notes · View notes

sebsgirl71479 · 1 year

Text

A King and his Queen

Mafia Sebastian Stan x Curvy Female Reader

Rating: 18+only No Minors

Word Count: 2673k

A/N Once I saw the pictures of Sebastian at the LACMA Gala this story popped up in my head. I will have translations for anything that Sebastian says in Romanian. Also if you have a problem with curvy/plus sized readers oh well.

This only part 1 to a 2 part series.

Warnings: cursing, blood, guns, smut, virgin sex, unprotected sex, fluff, nicknames If there is anything I missed sorry.

2022

Here you stand, your pristine white pant suit with small splatters of blood holding your husband's 40 cal gun, aimed at the men that shot and beat him up. You already shot one of the 3 men that stood before you. “So gentleman, before I decide to end your life right where you stand, would you like to tell me who decided to put the hit on my husband?” They both look at each other having a silent conversion. “Boys, we are wasting my precious time sitting here waiting for you to tell me when I should be by my husband's bedside. So who will it be next that I shoot?”

“We’re not telling you anything you bitch. We don't care who you are.” “See that's where you're wrong. You should care who I am, because the man you did the hit on is Sebastian Stan, the king of the Romanian mafia. The biggest mob in all of New York. and you are being held by its queen.” The men look like they are about to shit their pants. They never have seen you but they knew of the king and queen.

Now before we go any further let's backtrack to 1994, when you and Sebastian first met. You were 12 years old and he had just moved to the United states from Vienna, Austria. He was having difficulty speaking English properly and noticed he was being slightly bullied for having a thick accent. One day you took it upon yourself to approach him in the library one day to introduce yourself and maybe help him with learning English better and maybe strike up a friendship with the boy. Little did both of you know you would have one of the most beautiful and intense relationships for the rest of your lives.

While helping Sebastian with his English, you both slowly developed secret crushes on one another. By the middle of 8th grade he had gotten a lot better speaking and you both confessed your mutual liking to each other while on a walk along Rockland Lake State Park. Your parents and Sebastian's parents thought you two were a bit young to date but they thought it was adorable just the same.

When sophomore year came around, everyone at school knew who you both were and called you a power couple. “Lubirea mea, i have such big dreams for us when we turn 18.” “What is that dragul meu?” While you were helping Sebastian with his English he was teaching you words in Romanian. “Well since my step-father has no other sons besides me he will be handing over the business to me and I am going to grow it much bigger than it is now. And I will be the Romanian king of New York and you will be its queen, lubirea mea.” Looking into your eyes and lifting your hand to his lips to kiss it. “Oh Seb, te iubesc.” “Și eu te iubesc y/n.”

By the time you both turned 16 both sets of patents saw and understood how deeply in love you were for each other. So much so that Sebastian asked his mother Gorgetta for the wedding ring his father gave her. “Sebastian, are you sure this is what you want? You are so young and I don't want you to regret anything?” “Mama, I love her so much so deeply I feel it in my bones. She will be my queen one day and then we will be unstoppable.” “That's all I wanted to know, băiețelul meu frumos.”

“What's wrong lubirea mea, are you having second thoughts? We can stop now and just lay in bed and cuddle?” “No Seb no I want this so much. I guess I'm just worried it's going to hurt alot.” He cradles his hands on your face, rubbing your cheeks. “Baby, if it ever gets to be too much just tell me and we can stop ok?” “Ok seb, te iubesc.” “Și eu tu iubesc.”

The summer before your senior year was when you and Sebastian decided to take your relationship to the next level. It was the day before the 4th of July. You and Sebastian were hanging out at his house watching movies and cuddling on the couch in his bedroom. Halfway through the movie you looked up at him at the same time as he did. He bent down to kiss you on the lips, it was soft and sweet just like him. Soon Sebastian held you by the waist and pulled you up to straddle his lap. That's when things got heated, you started to grind down on his lap and felt his erection. It felt right, you started to moan with the friction, so did Sebastian. You were the first to pull away and look him in the eyes. The look in his eyes was different from other make out sessions that you’ve had. “I love you so much y/n, please tell me you want this?” “I love you too seb, you are my forever make love to me.”

With such strength you didn't know he had, Sebastian picked you up without breaking eye contact with you. The intensity you both had in your eyes was like fire. He gently laid you down on his bed and began kissing you again. One by one you started undressing each other. Once you were both in your underwear, you looked at Sebastian with so much love but also a little bit of nervousness.

You've always been a thick girl, but Sebastian never saw you that way. He always made you feel beautiful, never felt subconscious about your body. He started kissing you down your neck every so often giving you little hickies to show you and anyone one else that you were his. When he got to the valley of your breast he looked up at you asking a silent permission to take off your bra. With a nod of your head he reached behind you and unhooked it and let it fall forward. Grabbing the straps and kissing your shoulders as he pulled it off to expose your chest to him. “My god baby you are so beautiful.” Once your bra was off he latched on to one of your breast and began suckling on it, flicking it with his tongue. You let out whimper and moan and the new sensation. “Oh Seb, baby that feels so good.” I know angel, just relax and I'm going to make you feel so good.”

While he keeps his mouth on your breast, his left arm is gliding down your body smoothing over your curves stopping right at your mound. He presses his finger over your cloth clit and you feel a jolt of electricity. “Oh my god baby that was amazing!” Sebastian removes his mouth from your breast with a pop, giving you that beautiful smile of his. “Draga, let me taste you. I've been dreaming of this.” “Whatever you want Seb, just dont stop.” Soon enough he slid your panties down your legs while kissing and sucking bruises on your legs, only for him to see. “Damn baby you're so wet, so beautiful.” Before you could respond he swiped his tongue up from bottom to top giving your clit a little suck. You arched your back at the new feeling, never wanted this to end. “You taste so damn good draga i could spend the rest of my life here.” He dove back in and ate you out like he has been starving for you.

Once he is to the hilt he is breathing hard trying not to bust at that moment. At that moment you both speak….”I Love You!” Caressing his cheeks you kiss his nose and both cheeks then his lips in a soft and all consuming kiss. “You can move now baby, I'm ready.” With a nod of his head he slowly starts pulling out in slow short strokes to lessen the pain for you. “Oh lubirea mea you’re so tight I could live here.” You moan at his confession, digging your nails into his shoulders to ground yourself. “Sebastian, baby please go faster. It feels so good. Mmmmm.” “What my baby wants she gets.”

You grabbed onto his hair like a lifeline, the moan you let out was practically pornagraphic. You wondered how he knew what he was doing, leaning up on your elbows as you looked at him. “Baby, how did you learn to do this?” Sebastian looks up, mouth and chin glistening with your slick. “I watched a video or two a while back. I wanted to make sure I was doing this right, are you enjoying it draga?” “Baby just don't stop.” With a smirk on his face got back down between your legs and started flicking your clit and sucking. Soon he slipped one finger in you for a new sensation. Once he inserted another finger you felt full, his fingers pumping in and out along with him flicking your clit had your stomach tightening. “Oh Sebastian I- I’m gonna cum!” “Come on baby cum show me you can be a good girl.” On his command you let go with the most intense orgasm ever, so much so you squirted.

Sebastian was in awe, he had never seen that before but he thought it was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He looks at you, panting chest heaving completely blissed out. “Draga, are you ok? Baby come back to me.” He says with a little laugh. You blink your eyes trying to focus on Sebastian. You look at him, a small smile tugging on your lips. “You were so good baby, I love you so much.” “I love you too angel. Are you ready?” “Yes Sebastian, make love to me lubirea mea.” “Okay you tell me if gets to be too much angel I don't want you in too much pain.” With a reassuring nod he positions himself between your legs pumping himself a few times moving his penis up and down your folds getting him wet before he enters inside of you. “Oh draga we need a condom.” “Its ok baby I went on the pill last year. I want to feel all of you.” He bends down to kiss you passionately to try and distract you from him entering you. His blunt tip starts to enter and you let out a small whimper as he slowly goes inch by inch. “Oh shit baby I’m only halfway in but you feel so fucking good. I don't know how long i'm going to last with how tight this pussy is.” “It's ok seb take your time, i'm doing ok.” He opens his eyes and he looks right in your eyes as he starts pushing in more. Its like you are both opening your souls for each other. You feel a bit of pain but Sebastian is going so slow it's making it bearable.

He starts to pick up a faster rhythm and he can tell you're starting to get close to a second orgasm. “Darga are you getting close? I can feel you choking me, I don't think I'm going to last long you feel too good your heaven.” “I- I’m oh god Sebastian I’m going to cum. Cum with me baby please.” “I'm oh I'm right there angel.” He brings his thumb to your clit rubbing tight circles intensifying your pleasure. You arch your back off the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist. It feels so good you grab his butt and start pushing him to you harder. "Angel, let go baby, cum for me.” At his command you screamed his name and gripped his cock so tight he roared out your name and came so hard inside you. “Shit I can't stop cumming baby oh god it won't stop.” “Give it to me lubirea mea, give me all of it.” After another 2 mins he is finally spent and drops to his elbows so as to not crush you. You hold his face and kiss him till you can't breathe. You bring him to your chest for him to lay most of his weight on you. Combing your hands through his hair and humming to him, he catches his breath.

After a few minutes of you both coming down for your highs, Sebastian finally pulls out of you. You let out a small whimper with the loss of him, but he brings you into his side to nuzzle your face into his neck. “How are you feeling draga? Are you hurt at all?” “I hurt a little bit, but it's a good hurt.” Looking up at him you give a big smile and he mirrors you. At that moment he thinks of the ring he has in his underwear drawer and he can't think of a better time than now. He wanted to do something more romantic, but you laying in his arms naked and looking like an absolute angel he can't think of a better time.

He gets up to go to his bathroom to get a warm washcloth to clean you both up but he takes a detour to his dresser. He gets to the side of the bed and bends down to wipe off any remaining cum off your legs and then throws it in his hamper. As he stays at the side of the bed he moves your hair away from your face looking like he has something on his mind. “Seb, baby, is something wrong?” “No angel, everything is perfect, in fact I wanted to wait for something more romantic but I can't think of any better time than now.”

He picks up the box from his side and brings it up to view. You sit up on the bed holding the sheets to your body with wide eyes. “Y/N Y/L/N my angel, lubirea mea. You have been with me since I came to this country and have helped me become the young man I am today. I have loved you for so long and I know we will love each other till the end of time. You are my queen and want to be your king. I know it's so soon but will you marry me?” You look at him with wide eyes, you never thought he would propose so soon but you never had a doubt in your mind that you would spend the rest of your life with him.

With a small tear rolling down your cheek you finally speak. “Sebastian, I would be honored to be your wife and your queen.” He smiles so big, with shaky hands he puts the ring on your finger and kisses it. He leaps off the floor and kisses you silly all over your face while you giggle. You just lay there in each other's arms filled with happiness. A few minutes pass and you both get off the bed and head to the bathroom to take a shower.

There's no sex just slow sensual touches washing each other and exploring your bodies. You hold one another under the stream of hot water saying soft i love yous. When the water starts to get a little cold you exit the shower and dry each other off. Sebastian gives you one of his t-shirts and boxers to wear to bed while he just wears his own pair of flannel pajama pants only.

You both get into bed and you lay your head on his chest while holding his hand playing with his rings. He takes your hand and places a kiss on your ring finger. You fall asleep after a few more minutes, when Sebastian feels your breathing even out he knows you're asleep. He looks down at you and places a kiss on your forehead and starts to drift off as well dreaming of his future with you. Quietly he speaks into the dark. “The world has no idea what is coming with us draga.”

I hope you enjoyed part 1 to this Mafia Sebastian story. Don't forget to reblog and check in for an update on part 2.

Tag list: @buckyalpine @peaches1958 @christycurlswrites

#sebastian stan x plus size reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan au #mafia sebastian #young sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #tz #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan daddy #romanian god #romanian sweetheart

282 notes · View notes

thebluemage · 2 years

Text

#sebastian stan #long hair seb #romanian sweetheart

310 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 2 years

Text

As much as you adore Scott in his work suits, you tease that he should change up his style now and then. He took you seriously.

Photo credit to @sgt-tasm here.

Photo credit to @rainbowkisses31 here.

Photo credit to @cable-knit-sweater here.

Photo credit to @logicalstansadvice here.

Photo credit to @mostlybuckystuff here.

#navybrat rambles #sebastian stan #romanian sweetheart #romanian menace #i love him your honor #my heart and my 😻#scott huffman #scott huffman vibes #make me a housewife #the floof #so soft #i want him to bite my neck #please sir

67 notes · View notes

reelovesbuckybarnes · 1 year

Text

Sebastian thank you for coming into this world.

#sebastian stan #romanian sweetheart

11 notes · View notes

cherry-pop-elf · 5 months

Text

Inspired by @deardoiloveyou

Nick names the Weasley Siblings would give you

William ‘Bill’

Habibi. Habibi is a BIG one, because he knows Arabic. Along with growing up in Egypt for a while. So instead of sunshine, he would call you his Ra. There is also the classics like Love, Sweetheart, Darling, Beautiful, and just very ‘polite’ compliments. Mixed in with his Egyptian passion

Charlie

Since he knows Romanian, expect the same thing. Like calling you Dragoste. He’s a bit more free spirited and will call you things like Babe, Baby Girl/Boy/Baby in general. Sweetheart, sugar, hottie, far more playful and teasing in his mannerism. Now you can see where the Twins get it from

Percy

He’s not really a Nick Name person, like the rest of his family. He thinks he’s ’above it’ if you will. Such a nerd. He does say things he has heard his father call Molly. Because he’s still a son to a parent. Dear, Darling, Honey, more Wifey and Husbandy nicknames

Fred

Oh be prepared. He’s going to hit you with everything, and the kitchen sink. He does have a theme though. If the nickname gets you to fluster more, he’s aiming for that. Expect the ‘Ronniekins’ nickname to your own. ‘Donniekins’ as an example. Sugar, Baby, Sweetie, Babe, Love Of My Life, and he will do a Honey, Sugar, Milk, Eggs trailing nickname treatment. His goal is to make you fluster. If he does, mission accomplished

George

Just like his twin, he does aim for whatever can get you flustered. But, he also has a theme. Sweets. He loves to call his partner names after candy. Jellybean is a ABSOLUTE FAVORITE. He will call you sugar, honey, sweetie, tulip, just very sweet and fluffy names. While Fred aims to get a rise, George just is super sweet and pampery. If you have a favorite candy, he will find a way to call you it

Ron

Similar to Percy, he’s not really a person to give nicknames. But he does have a few favorites. Love, honey, things like that. He does like to go ‘My wife/husband/boyfriend/girlfriend/partner’ all Braggy every time though. That’s a favorite. Just speaking with such pride that you are his. That’s his go to. Every time

Ginny

She’s same like Ron and Percy. But not to the same degree. She more so has nicknames that are just solid for her. Love, sweetie, honey, and the Kinnie treatment. You aren’t a Weasley if you don’t give your partner a Kinnie treatment. If you do Quidditch with her, she will say My “whatever position” you are. If not, Keeper is going to be your new name. And you gotta deal with it

336 notes · View notes

s-4pphics · 1 year

Text

look, wild cherries! 2 (a.a)

wc;cw: 2.6k, cherrychaser!abby, scumbag!abby, virgin!oc, corruption kink, abby’s so sleazy, SMUT MDNI!!!, kinda sadism? LOL i’m unwell, fingering :D, dirty talk, dassit me finks :p

Abby woke up with a grossly ecstatic feeling in her gut. It was ten in the morning on Saturday: birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and—most importantly—virgins were roaming.

Today was going to be unforgettable.

She peppily got out of bed and immediately made her breakfast: two jelly-smothered slices of toast, a big bowl of sugary, maple-flavored oatmeal, and sliced fruit. She ate joyfully as she kicked her feet under her small kitchen table before heading back to her bedroom. She made her bed, making sure her sheets were tucked and crisp and her pillows were organized before heading to her bathroom to get ready for the gym.

She brushed her teeth as she hummed happily, thoughts of you plaguing her mind and filling her with arousal. She still had a couple of hours to herself before you came over, so she decided to spend her pass time bulking, especially since she was going to be slinging your smaller frame around all afternoon!

She spat out the water she’d been swishing around in her mouth into the sink before changing into her sports bra, tank, and shorts. She bent down to grab her packed gym bag, her headphones around her neck, before heading out.

Yeah, today was going to be amazing!

Abby was in the middle of her Romanian deadlifts when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, dropping the large dumbbells onto their rack in front of her, pulling down her blasting headphones to loop around her neck before turning.

She was met with a familiar face—a pretty girl from her electrical engineering course— as she smiled brightly, softly asking if she could help her perfect her squatting form.

… Fuck. Of course, she could. She ignored the pounding of her heart as she was led to the front of the gym.

Half an hour later, they were both stark naked in the gym showers as Abby pinned her classmate up against the slippery wall, three thick fingers shoved into her cunt as she cried out her name. The cross-eyed girl was crying out as softly as she could manage, warning Abby to slow down with a tight grip on her large wrist or she was going to scream while widening her stance so Abby could get deeper.

It only made Abby fuck her harder, making sure to keep her fingers arched so she could hit her spot dead on. She let out a scream before her whole body shook against the taller girl’s, crying out how hard she was cumming and how good it felt. Abby made sure to coax her back down to Earth before making an excuse to leave. She had about forty-five minutes before she saw you and she needed a proper shower!

She dried and dressed hurriedly before jogging back to the gym to grab her bag, taking her leave, and heading back to her small apartment in a rush.

After showering, applying perfume, and tidying up, she organized her pens and stacked her chemistry books on her nightstand. She wanted to seem as casual as possible, body clad in gray sweats and a white tee with her formula notebook opened on her bed.

You’d snapped her saying that you were walking over as she semi-patiently waited for your knock on the couch, knee bouncing up and down in anticipation as she mindlessly scrolled through TikTok.

She’d just been in the middle of a nine-part true crime case analysis before a gentle thud thud thud! came from the opposite side of her door. She damn near flew into the air with how fast she leaped up from the couch, lightly sprinting towards the door to pull it open.

She was immediately met with your scent and bright smile as she took in your appearance from head to toe: your two puffs were wrapped in red and white bows, you were wearing a short, black sweetheart dress littered in cherries, —fuckfuckfuck— and you had on sheer ankle socks under your red platform sandals. So fucking cute, she couldn’t wait to fuck the shit out of yo—

“A-Abby? You okay?” You muttered, breaking her trance.

“Huh?” she blurted out.

“I, um… I said hi,” you muttered sheepishly as your eyes darted around awkwardly. Fucking shit! You dumbass, you’re scaring the pussy away!

“Yeah! Oh my— hi! I’m sorry, I worked out earlier so I'm a little… not here, right now. I’m sorr— “

“No, please don’t apologize! I understand, not about the… working out thing but the dazed thing. The semester’s almost over so I feel you!” Your toothy grin was back on your face as you beamed in agreement.

She smiled back and jumped into action, moving to the side to allow you access into her home, “Come in! We can study in my room, I set my books and stuff up already so we can get started.”

You mumbled a small great! as you brushed past her. You smelled so fucking good. Sweet like sugar and berries and sunshine. Fuck—

“My room’s right down the hall, first door to your right,” Abby pointed out as she shut the door behind you. “Want some water or anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you!”

“‘Course. C’mon,” she smiled at you.

Abby led you to her room, shutting the door behind you and welcoming you to sit on her bed. You sat on the edge and started digging through your backpack.

“So,” you hummed, pulling out a stack of your own notebooks, “I have some notes that I brought for you to reference! I wasn’t sure which section of biochem you needed for your exam, so I brought as many as I could find! I hope that’s okay!”

Abby moved to sit next to you, leaving some space between your bodies, “That’s more than enough, I appreciate it so much.”

She made sure to speak softly, soothingly, and she watched your shoulders relax at her tone, “Of course, so glad I could help.”

You’d been guiding Abby through your notebooks for the last half hour, and she digested none of the information you fed her. Her brain was racing with thoughts of taking you up against the wall, in front of her window, fucking you into her desk, she wanted you everywhere—

“Abby, did you get that last part?”

“Uh huh,” she was staring at your glossy lips so hard. “Animals have seven essential amino acids that are necessary for their dietary health.”

She knew that already.

“Great, we’ll go over their names in a bit!” You set the book down beside you and stretched your arms. “Breaks are mandatory when studying, these next ten minutes are yours.”

Abby hummed in acknowledgement, resting her hand on her thigh as she watched you stretch and crack your back. Neither of you moved, sitting in comfortable silence until she slid half an inch closer to you.

You were avoiding eye contact with her: she followed your line of vision and noticed that you’d been staring at the hand she had placed on her thigh, the veins in her arms still prominent from earlier.

“I’m… uh, I don’t know. Maybe I should start going to the gym, you have great… posture,” you muttered suddenly.

A slow smirk crept up on Abby’s face, “I have great posture?”

“Mhm, like… you sit up really straight, I’m jealous. I’m such a slouch-er,” you let out a soft laugh as you held your gaze on her hand.

“… I do sit up pretty straight, I never noticed it,” she slowly clenched her fist, the veins in her hands protruding before she unclenched. She watched your legs shift slightly.

Abby didn’t give a shit about this conversation, but she loved how wispy your voice sounded, like you were trying to catch your breath. She watched your chest rise and fall steadily.

Abby leaned back slightly, pretending to inspect the curve of your spine, “Hm… I guess you do have a bit of a humpback.”

You feigned offense, sitting up straighter, “Shut up, no I don’t!”

“What d’you mean you don’t, I can see it!” She laughed at you before shuffling closer, her legs brushing up against yours. She brought a hand up and gently pressed it in the middle of your back.

“Riiight here, I feel it forming, too. Jesus Chri— “

She heard you release out a breathy sigh when she applied more pressure, watching your fingers curl a bit tighter around the edge of your notebooks. She bit her lip and watched your face twist with shock and embarrassment, and it made her cunt squeeze in her boxers.

“S-Sorry, I’m just so tired— “

“Shh, s’okay, just relax.”

She noticed you tilt your head to the side in efforts to stretch your neck. Abby leaned even closer, bringing her hands up to both shoulders to gently massage them. Your sighs started to sound more like gasps as she dug her thumbs into your back, you leaning into her touch, her grips.

“U-Um, Abby?” she heard you stutter out in between your sharp breaths. She has you she has you—

“Mhm?”

“I-I, am I still gonna help y-you—mmh!”

She tenderly spoke over your quiet whimpers, “You already did, lemme help you, now.”

“How?” you breathed out.

“Here,” Abby moved behind you, gently pulling you towards her so your back was pressed to her chest, her legs enclosing yours, “This okay?”

“Yup,” you shakily exhaled.

She smiled, “Yup? That’s new.”

“Sorry, I’ve never, um,” you sounded so nervous; she fucking loved it. “No one’s ever done this… with me?”

“Never got a massage before?” she inquired in feigned innocence, chuckling lightly.

“No, not that, like… y’know.”

Abby’s core squeezed tighter, wetness pooling in her boxers. She hummed at your subtle admission.

She let you sloppily ramble about your inexperience as she rubbed your back and shoulders, unraveling the knots in your body. She could feel your manicured nails digging into her leg with every heavy rub, your sighs of satisfaction catching in your throat.

“Feels good?” she spoke into your ear, making sure to brush her lips against it. You made a small noise as you nodded quickly.

“You’re so tense, baby. Such a hard worker,” you keened at the nickname.

There was no space between you and Abby’s bodies. She started planting light kisses on your jaw, your neck, your warm cheeks as you squirmed

“Gonna let me take care of you, angel? Hm?”

Abby sucked on your neck, her tongue rolling all over your skin. You were letting out soft moans and whines, leaning your head back on her shoulder to give her more. She sucked harder, smiling into your neck.

Abby slowly dragged her hands around your body, massaging your tits through your dress in deep rubs. Your hand flew up to lay on top of hers, encouraging her grip tighter. She heard you moan out again.

“A-Abby… shit.”

“Yeah? Like that?”

“I like it, really l-like it!”

“Then take this off,” she pulled at the sleeves of your dress. She watched you strip, scooting to pull it from under you and over your head, planting kisses to your bare back and shoulder. You leaned back into her arms, and she welcomed it.

“Look up,” she whispered to you.

Your gaze met hers in the tall wall mirror in front of the two of you, and you immediately looked down at the floor. Abby grabbed your chin in a strong gasp, holding it so you were forced to keep eye contact, “I said look up.”

“M’sorry,” you mumbled quickly. She saw tears gather in your eyes and she smiled.

“You’re so sexy,” she said against the shell of your ear, "You're gonna watch yourself cum, you understand? Don’t move your head.”

You nodded at her through the mirror. She grinned wider.

She started playing with your nipples, you were purring at her touch. Every light pull and twist was making your hips buck, a wet stain on your pink underwear. She wanted to rip them to shreds, shove them down her throat and suck the wetness out.

“It feels good, Abby!”

“Know it does, such pretty tits.”

“M’getting… so wet.”

“Fuck, baby, I know, can see it,” your breaths were making her lose it. She needed to shove in that unused cunt. “Want me to touch that pretty cunt?”

“Yes! Really, really want you to!”

“Yeah? Want me to be the first to fuck you? Force my dick in?” She could feel herself slowly drifting, something animalistic taking over her brain.

“Yes yes yes! Wan’you to fuck me! Wan’you to… take my virginity!”

She grabbed the band of your panties and tore them in half with no effort, your puffy clit exposed to her in the mirror. She immediately started rubbing you in tight circles, your swollen bud pulsing under her pointer and middle finger.

“Gonna split you the fuck open, fuck, so fucking sexy.”

You were letting out squeaks of her name, calling out to her, begging her to go rub faster. Virgins cum so fucking quick and it makes her brain melt. She could see your tiny opening clenching in the mirror, your body completely limp against her and your eyes rolled into your head.

“Abby! I think I’m, I feel… someth— “

“Open your legs. All the way, wider.”

She watched your legs spread further, knees pointed in the air as you bit your lip. She gave you no warning, shoving her drippy pointer finger in your pussy, moaning loudly at the resistance. How the fuck were you going to take her dick! You’re the tightest she’s ever felt, walls soft and squelchy and resistant. She couldn’t think about anything except working you open, hitting you deep, breeding you—

“Hurts’bby, can’t— “

“Yeah, you can, doing so good,” she ignored your protests as she slurred mindlessly. She never had this type of reaction with anyone she fucked: she felt insane, deprived, fucking feral. She needed your pussy so bad; she was going to die if she didn’t fuck you!

She was curling her finger deep in you, looking for that spot that made you cream. You've probably never reached it on your own, fuckfuckfuck—

“M’—fuck, Abby, mmh—!”

“Right there? Tha’s it? Yeah?”

“Feels s’funny in me!”

She shoved her middle finger in, bringing her hand up to rub your clit in fast, small circles. She noticed you crying, tears running down your face in fat globs, bucking your hips up to meet her hands.

She felt you cum before you announced it: she was gritting out fuck yeah, squeeze m’fucking fingers right against your ear, cream coating her digits in a thick shine as squelching filled the room. You were silent as your body shook, mouth agape and eyes crossed. She couldn’t even move her fingers; you were so tight, she just kept pressing into that spot as you groaned and begged her to stop. It’s too much, I can’t take it!

She didn’t care, rubbing you until you went limp, slapping your twitching cunt one last time before withdrawing her fingers. Sticky strings connected your entrance and her together, and, fuck, she wishes it was her dick. She brought her digits to her mouth and sucked them clean, whining at your taste. So fucking sweet.

“Look at me,” she could barely recognize her own voice. So deep and shaky.

She watched your eyes slowly pull open, wet and gone. She could’ve come right there at that look alone.

“Can’t wait to rip that pussy open.”

You looked terrified, but she saw your pussy tense up in the reflection.

She smiled devilishly.

This would be interesting.

COCKBLOCCCKKKK HAHAAAAAA U THOUGHT EVERYBODY POINT N LAUGH

last pt here :p

#*. cherries 𓆩♡𓆪 #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby anderson x you #black!oc #black!reader #abby anderson x black!reader #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪#scumbag!abby

573 notes · View notes