#THOSE LITTLE COLORFUL STRINGS YOU HANG YOUR WISH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alimaybankkk · 1 year

Text

sunshine

summary: jj never really thought of loving a girl before. it was always a hit and run, but you were something else.

warnings: fluff. that’s literally it. like major fluff

pairing: jj maybank x innocent!routledge!fem! reader

————————————————————————

you were outside of the chateau, chilling in your yellow sundress when you heard his voice.

“hey, y/n,” jj said, sitting down next to you.

you grinned, tying a knot on the bracelet you were making. “hi, jj.”

he looked at you in deep thought for a moment, noticing it was the first time he ever loved the way his name was said.

“is john b here?” he asked.

you didn’t let your smile fade, although you were pretty bummed. you wished he’d come to see you, but you shrugged. “i don’t think so. wanna hang with me for a little bit?”

he looked like he was thinking, but he eventually shook his head. “i’ll just come back later.”

he wanted to stay with you. in fact, he needed to stay with you. but the thought of loving someone the way he loved you was terrifying. especially if it was his best friends little sister.

he stood, starting to walk but you followed after him. “well, where are you going?”

he shut his eyes as he stopped in his tracks. “home.”

you shook your head. “jj, can you stay with me? i’m bored.”

he shook his head. “i got work to do, princess. maybe another time.”

you suddenly looked at him with puppy dog eyes, gripping his bicep. “please?”

he bit his lip. damn, if he knew how to say no to you, he would have done it. but he didn’t. he grabbed your hand and took you back to where you were sitting earlier.

“pick a color, jj,” you said, putting your old bracelet off to the side.

“um,” jj thought. “i don’t know.”

“come on, j, just pick one!” you rested your head on your knees.

“um,” he said, looking around. his eyes fell on your dress, which he loved a lot, but was too nervous to say. “yellow.”

you looked up. “like the sunshine, right, j?”

he sighed. “yes, princess, like the sunshine.”

“it’s very warm today. i was tanning earlier. look how much sun i got,” you said. you showed him your arm after gathering a few different strings to put together.”

jj smiled. “cute.”

“so, what did you need my brother for?”

he shrugged. “pogue stuff.”

“i’m a pogue,” you muttered. “why can’t i know?”

“because, honey, it’s secret.” he brushed it off like it was nothing, but you wanted to cry.

your hair was in a half up half down style, one that jj had never seen before on you, with your ends blown out and complimenting your hair color. you noticed he was looking at your hair, which gave you an idea.

“j,” you said, rummaging through your bookbag. “can you tie a bow?”

he shrugged, catching sight of the yellow ribbon you threw onto the grass. “sure, princess, i can.”

“tie one into my hair, please.”

he sighed and you turned around. jj wanted to hold you close to him and cuddle you, but he had self control. he looped the ribbon around the ponytail at the top and began tying as you leaned your back against his chest.

“you’re making it hard for me to tie, here, princess.” he chuckled, having to restart. he had goosebumps from how close you were.

you almost fell asleep. “you’re comfortable, jj.”

he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to leave a trail of kisses from your ear down your neck.

“done,” he said, starting to twirl a few strands as he waited for you to get off of him. “you can sit up now.”

“no,” you shook your head and forced him to lay down, cuddling up to him.

“come on, princess, sit up,” he said, tapping your hip.

“j, i’m comfortable. please?” and for the second time in five minutes, you looked at him with the puppy dog eyes.

he sighed, pushing your head back onto his chest. “remember how john b said you were off limits when you turned 13?”

“yeah? and you said never in a million years would you want me?” you asked.

he winced. he regretted those words every day, wishing he could go back and take them away. “yeah. yeah, that time.”

“what about it?”

“nothing. take a nap, princess. you’ll get even more tan.” he said.

“okay.” you agreed and fell asleep.

* honestly, jj felt like a creep. he’d watched you sleep for at least thirty minutes, but he couldn’t help it. he loved the way your chest rose and fell slowly. but mostly, he loved that you even smiled in your sleep.

jj’s legs were starting to cramp. he couldn’t move without waking you, but he didn’t have a choice. your eyes fluttered open and you turned to him, startled.

“‘m sorry, princess.”

you smiled an ‘it’s okay.’ and sat up. he followed, starting to realize how sweaty he felt. he brushed it off and took a sip from the water bottle that was there.

“jj, that’s mine,” you told him and grabbed it back, drinking it until it was gone.

“someone’s thirsty,” he commentated and jabbed you in the hip.

you giggled, throwing the water bottle at him. “i got to get back to my bracelet,” you said to yourself and went away at knotting .

he watched you contently for five whole minutes before saying, “do you still love the stars?”

you froze. it was something dumb you’d told him when you were eight. you never had expected him to remember, but you nodded. “yeah.”

he grinned, thinking of how cute you would be on a blanket pointing to the little dipper.

“wanna watch them with me tonight?” he asked. he bit his lip, waiting for your answer.

your smile grew wider. “okay.”

he slapped your back, chuckling. “it’s a date then.”

you turned around and have him a thankful look that he wished he could take a picture of in the moment and look at every second of his life.

“jj,” you said, looking past his shoulder. “john b’s back.”

jj would be lying if he said he wasn’t upset. he was bummed that it was no longer the two of you. he was upset that there probably would not be another cuddle session that evening.

to be honest, he’d only realized his feelings for you a few years ago. at least, he’d recognized them. he’d always felt the same about you, but only around three years ago did he realize it was love.

you had loved him knowingly since the first time he held your hand on the way to school while john b walked beside him, defending you from the bigger and meaner kids at school.

you’d always had that puppy love for him.

and he’d always had that puppy love for you.

“right.” jj said back, standing and approaching john b.

he turned around. “stars at my house, okay?”

you smiled and nodded, gripping the grass and ripping a few blades out.

* jj had set out a few pillows and a blanket on the roof of his house. he was quite comfortable on his own, snuggling up into the pillows he slept with every night. he couldn’t get over the fact that soon he would be able to lay his head on a pillow that smelt like you.

after a few minutes of listening to the crickets, he heard footsteps. “jj?”

he sat up and peaked over the edge of the roof. “shh, princess, don’t go inside.”

he watched you look up at him, smiling as you locked eyes with him. your eyes reflected the moon and the stars. they looked no different from how they usually did. well, maybe they did; jj usually saw the whole world in them.

“jj, i can’t get up there,” you whined. he climbed down the ladder and grabbed your hands, smiling at you.

“hi,” he said.

“hi.”

he ordered you to go on his back and you climbed there, fighting your fear of heights. he climbed the ladder with no problem, placing you gently on the fort he’d made. you leaned back and laid down as he laid down next to you.

jj knew how small he made the little circle. he wanted to be as close as possible to you. you loved it, too.

“oh, baby, your ribbon’s all messed up.” jj said, mentally kicking himself for the pet name.

and you mentally kicked yourself for almost fainting at the nickname. he’d never called you that before. “what did you say?”

“i said… i said your ribbon’s all messed up.” jj said nervously.

“before that.”

he hesitated. “baby.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, turning to face him. “i liked it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he helped you sit up as you leaned against his chest and he retied your ribbon for the second time today.

“i like your hair like this, baby.” he said, smiling as you shivered at the nickname.

“thank you,” you said, leaning your head into his neck.

he nodded and kissed your forehead.

what are we? he thought, resting his chin on your head.

you were looking at the sky through the side of your eye and you launched your finger out. “venus.”

“what, baby?” he asked, his attention being drawn back to you.

“i can see venus.” you pointed. he followed your gaze but didn’t see anything. he pretended he did.

“very beautiful, princess.” he said. just like you, he thought.

you nodded, turning back to him and reaching into your pocket of the shorts that were under your dress.

you pulled out a yellow chevron bracelet. the one that you had not finished before he left. it warmed his heart to know that you had not stopped thinking about him when he left.

“you got a gift for me, don’t you, routledge?” he asked, not accidentally holding your hand for a little too long when he grabbed it out of your hand.

“like the sunshine,” you told him, pointing to the yellow.

he grinned. “just like the sunshine, princess.”

“i would love some sunshine right now,” you said.

“i have some,” jj blurred out without thinking.

you raised an eyebrow. “how?”

he couldn’t go back now. “in a way, baby, you are my sunshine.”

you grinned, your face lighting up. he knew the sun was your favorite star in the sky ever since you were eight .

“i’m your sunshine?”

“my sunshine.” he told you, cuddling close to you. “if i’m upset, you make me feel better.”

you didn’t even think about it, but you gave him a kiss. on the lips.

it was something you did a lot—kiss him—but it was usually just on the forehead or on the cheek.

he froze. you sat up. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to—”

but he smashed his lips against yours, drowning you in passion and love.

“i love you, baby.” he told you.

“i love you, too, jj,” you said, smiling wide.

“oh and this bracelet reminds me…” he started, reaching into his pocket. he pulled out a neckless. it was made with clay beads, a type of bead you enjoyed.

it was yellow.

“i made it for you.” he told you as he adjusted it onto your neck.

* a/n: so fluffy

part 2? idrk

#jj x reader #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj obx #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #john b #jj maybank x routledge!reader

2K notes · View notes

tossawary · 5 months

Text

You know, the more I think about it, the funnier I find the concept of Monkey D. Luffy /& Boa Hancock (especially paired with Aro-Ace spectrum Luffy and Aro-Ace spectrum Hancock) just for what it must look like from an outsider's POV.

For the record, personally, my favorite Luffy ship is Zoro/Luffy - also with Aro-Ace spectrum Luffy, that's basically non-negotiable for me, I don't care whether he's sex-favorable or sex-repulsed, but he's definitely ace. It is so funny to me to think about Luffy's incredible pull with aro-ace spectrum folks. People who once thought "sucks for you fuckers obsessed with sex and/or romance, I'm built different" (Roronoa Zoro, Koby, Trafalgar Law, Boa Hancock, Bartolomeo, etc.) find themselves fascinated by this little rubber man, who regularly declares war on the government and can swallow a roast chicken whole. Some of them are happier about this than others. Some of them WISH they just wanted to fuck or marry him, that would make more sense than this shit.

But, okay, back to Luffy and Hancock (as a friendship or queerplatonic situationship, whatever, doesn't matter). Like, let's pretend this is some kind of Modern College AU (Luffy is probably not IN college, tbh, he's just there to hang out with his friends and for any food anyone makes the mistake of leaving out). You are on your way to class and you see this woman walking down the street and she is - hands down - the Most Beautiful Woman In The World.

Super tall, with incredibly long, muscular legs in shockingly high red heels, a short skirt, artful cleavage, a waterfall of sleek black hair, beautiful face, striking makeup, gorgeous jewelry. Looks too old to be an undergrad student. She looks like if a martial artist became a supermodel. Walks like that too. The phrase "please step on me" comes to mind, but not to the lips, because that's sexual harassment, and also this woman looks like she could stab you through the heart with a kick and her shoe heel, killing you instantly.

She sees someone and her entire face lights up. She runs forward (how is she running in those shoes) squealing in excitement and embraces this guy you didn't even notice before, shouting about how much she missed him, and kisses him on the lips. He is... uh... three-quarters of her height at the tallest. A real Mr. Short King.

Wow, he has a babyface. And a scar on his cheek and on his chest, which you can see because he's wearing an open button-up, in eye-searing rainbow colors and decorated with monkeys, and jorts with fur at the cuffs. And mismatched flip-flops on the wrong feet. And a straw hat on a string around his neck. It looks like he hasn't brushed his hair today. It is impossible to judge his looks because his outfit is too distracting. Now the Most Beautiful Woman in the World is blushing bright pink as she clasps one of his hands in both of hers. Mr. Short King is using his other hand to pick his nose as she talks.

They walk hand in hand together over to where an incredibly expensive-looking bright red car is parked. Mr. Short King opens the driver's door for the Most Beautiful Woman and she apparently nearly swoons at this chivalry. She climbs into the driver's seat and he gets into the passenger's side (Luffy cannot legally drive and also cannot actually drive). They drive off together. What the fuck kind of Roger-and-Jessica-Rabbit-ass Sugar Mama relationship did you just witness?

Boa Hancock keeps a photograph of Luffy as her phone background and also on her desk at work. Everyone is always like, "Is that your... son?" And Hancock is like, "No, that's my number one choice of future fiancé! Isn't he sooooo handsome?" And people can only be like, "...Okay, but why are there police lights in the background? And something is on fire? It kind of looks like he's in the process of being arrested..." And Hancock responds dreamily, "They didn't catch him! He climbed into my exercise duffel bag and I carried him out."

#tossawary one piece #monkey d. luffy #boa hancock #fic ideas #long post

391 notes · View notes

konigsslvtt · 1 month

Text

You don’t pick up. He’s not surprised.

It’s 2 in the morning, why would you?

Königs hand clutches the glass of whiskey in his hand as he sits back on his couch, the soft, soothing tone of your voice in your voicemail jolting the arousal in his loins. Your message ends with a bubbly little outro, fueling his drunk boldness as he begins to speak.

“God, what am I doing,” he slurs slightly, his tone raspy and quiet, swallowing roughly as the alcohol gets into his system. “I really fuckin’ wish you picked up…scheiße,” he says into the phone, his head swarming with the thought of what you look like at 2 in the morning, pulsing straight to the hardness straining in his pants. “Fuck, you don’t know how badly I want you,” he rasps out, laughing drunkenly to himself as his words come out needier than intended.

“You don’t understand how much I think about you. Thinking about the things I want to do to you,” he grits out, his self restraint weakening. His fingers curl around the crystal glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid around in a circle as he watches it, listening as the radio silence on the other end of the phone mingles with his uneven breaths.

Another bitter laugh leaves his lips, as his head leans back against the head of the couch cushion, his hand pressing his phone tighter to his ear as his eyes close. “Seeing you, happy with your…husband. It’s infuriating,” he says, his thumb skimming the rim of his glass, a drawled out sigh passing through his lips.

“Watching him hold your hand, and kiss those lips I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about…” Another string of expletives leave his lips in German, his jaw tensing as the alcohol severely inhibits his ability to think clearly.

Fuck, what have you done to him?

Reducing him to a state of pathetic inebriation.

He swallows thickly, taking another long sip of his whiskey, lips puckering as it goes down with a lingering burn. “God, what are you doing to me?” He voices his thoughts, his eyes opening blearily as the ceiling molds into a series of blurry blobs, his eyes fluttering unevenly.

“I know it's wrong. You're married and I shouldn't be uttering such obscene thoughts, but I can't help it. The image of you, moaning my name into my sheets as your body fits with mine, it consumes me, day and night."

He trails off, the silence hanging heavy for a moment before he speaks again, his tone intense. "Mein Gott, I need you. I—I can't sleep, can't get you out of my head. The things I want to do to you..." His voice hitches as he sets his whiskey down, his palm pushing down against the growing bulge in his sweatpants, earning a near muted groan to escape his lips.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice laced with an undeniable desire. "Every time my eyes meet yours, I fantasize about pinning you against the wall, making you moan my name." His fingers curl around the ridge of his cock, his hips pushing up slightly as he lets a groan dissipate into a breathy sigh.

“You're this…pretty little temptation, always there, always tempting me." His words come out in a mix of German and heavily-accented English, his Austrian origins coloring his speech, his voice dripping with longing and need. "I want to taste your lips, feel your body pressed against mine. I want to run my hands through your hair, feel your nails digging into my skin."

He lets out a low, almost desperate groan. "God, I want to make you scream, make you forget everything else but me." His hand tightens its grip, his thumb kneading into his tip as a growing circle of wetness stains the fabric of his sweatpants. His head lulls back a little more, his eyes struggling to stay open as his fingers grip the sides of his phone harder.

“I've known I wanted you for so long, watching you with those innocent eyes, that sweet smile. You have me wrapped around your finger, whether you know it or not,” he breathes out, something akin to longing staining his words as they leave his lips. His thumb hooks into his waistband, tugging the material down as his cock rests against his abdominal muscles. He hisses slightly as the cool air washes over him, his hand closing around the warm flesh as the pad of his thumb smears the precum beading at the tip.

“You make me feel crazy. Absolutely insane when I get like this,” he slurs, his hand sliding up, his hips following as his eyes roll back.

“Like you put a spell on me. A few pretty flutters of those dark lashes and I’m as good as on my knees for you,” he chuckles drunkenly, his lips parting with a muted groan as his hand twists around his tip, fucking his hand as he pushes his hips up. “Mmm, on my knees for you…the things I could make you feel with my tongue alone…” he rasps, his eyes closing again as his hand twists down, making a shuddering groan pass through his lips.

“Imagining your pretty face scrunched up with uncontrollable pleasure as I feel the warmth of your thighs around my head…fuck I can just imagine how sweet you taste.” His rambling is getting worse, his eyebrows drawn in in concentration as his hand eagerly works his cock, slipping through his fist in tight, controlled motions.

“What I’d do to have you in my bed with me right now,” he breathes out, his hips rocking up into his fist as his eyes slip closed once more. The pleasure radiates deep in his lower abdomen, threatening to consume him with each downward stroke of his hand.

“Feeling you wrapped around my cock, wet and tight and Verdammte Hölle [bloody hell]…just the thought of it has me so fucking hard for you.”

The hitch in his words splits open the raw desire he was hiding with the alcohol, his eyelids pressing harder together as a shuddering groan escapes his lips. His hand speeds up a little more, teasing his restraint as his hips stutter up into his hand once more, his shoulders pressing deep into the couch cushions.

“I wish you could see it…feel how I’d throb in your delicate, little hands. The softness of your palm replacing mine, fuck—“ He swallows thickly as his hand stops at the base, gripping tightly as the head throbs, trying to gain any semblance of control as his mind spins out of control.

“You have me completely at your mercy. You could make me do anything for you, and I wouldn’t hesitate,” he confesses, his eyes fluttering open heavily as the rotating fan above him sends waves of cool air rippling over his warm skin. His hand slowly slides back up, pushing down with a vice grip as a sigh of relief passes through his lips.

“I’m going to cum so hard, my sweet girl. And it’s going to be all for you,” he breathes out, the familiar tight feeling building inside of him getting harder to fend off. His thumb presses harder with each upward stroke of his hand, his body growing restless as he twitches on the couch. A whimpered-like moan leaves his lips, his jaw clenching as choked breaths struggle to fill his lungs.

“I want you to take it. Take it all, pretty girl. Every piece of me is yours,” he groans out quietly, his breaths uneven and harsh, his hand moving on its own, his hips struggling to stay rooted on the couch. “Fuck—fuck, that’s it. Oh Gott, Schatz…” With a strangled moan, his body tenses, his hips thrusting into his hand as his lips part, his release wetting his hand and painting his abdomen.

His breaths are ragged, his hand clutching his phone with an intensity bordering on painful, his mind blissfully quiet for the first time since he’s picked up his phone. He swallows back the cotton-y feeling in the back of his throat, letting out a long breath as a chuckle overcomes his senses, his head shaking.

“God, what a mess you’ve made of me, Schatz,” he says, another bob of his throat to wet his esophagus from moaning and speaking for the last ten minutes linger on the message. “But I meant everything. Drunk or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly—“

The beeping of the message becoming too long has his words momentarily stopping, listening to the automated voice messaging system as the settling loneliness sinks in once again, as he sighs.

“—in love with you.”

The words are whispered on his lips, deaf on your ears as he says it too late, once again.

——————————————————————————————

https://archiveofourown.org/users/okayitschey

——————————————————————————————

He’s not even sure if you listened to the voicemail.

Sober him is berating himself for being so weak, half his memory of the whole thing wiped, leaving him wondering how you’d react once you see him in person. His anxiety eventually gets the best of him, as he purposely avoids the common areas he knows you inhibit.

It was hard to swallow down the pill of unrequited desire, the aftertaste bitter as he watches you from afar. You’re merely enjoying the meal in front of you surrounded by some friends, the glint of your wedding ring drawing a sour taste to his mouth.

It wasn’t fair, he told himself, letting someone as perfect as yourself be tied down to someone so mediocre, your husband blind to the sheer radiance that graces his presence whenever you step into the room. It has his fingers balling into a tight fist, a dark film covering his eyes as he watches him kiss your cheek.

Touch your back.

His cock stirs as your laughter rings out, the sound so arousing it has his breath hitching in his chest, making a mental note to remember the sound when he had his hand around himself again later into the evening.

His fingers run along his thigh as he watches your husband sit down next to you, his fingers tensing into his muscle as he watches as his hand slides onto your own thigh. The sight makes his temples burn, his knee ticking almost possessively as he watches the way your knees spread a little further, allowing him to grip your muscle more firmly.

Why haven’t you listened to his voicemail yet?

Surely it was why you weren’t outside his door this morning, begging him to save you from your marriage.

Right?

Delusions and reality seem to bleed into one confusing, muddled mess inside of his head, unable to tell if a glance from you was platonic or a silent beg for him to have you under him, deep inside of you until you—

His thoughts are momentarily halted as his eyes catch yours as you stand up from the table, the slight tug of your brows over your forehead making his own stare persist, not backing down. His hand absently slides higher up his leg under the table, feeling absolutely insane, desperate even, the longer your gaze is on his.

The two second glance feels like an eternity to him, his eyes eagerly watching as you kiss your husband goodbye, eyes widening slightly when he realizes you’re leaving alone. His eyes flicker to check if any onlookers are paying attention before he stands up, following after you unsuspectingly.

The sway of your ass, the way your hair swings with every step; it has him infatuated, his desires burning hotter as he watches you walking towards the barracks. Searing hot emotions flood through his veins, rationality leaving him as he comes up behind you, arm pushing out to stop you from entering the door, nearly making your throat push into his forearm.

“What are you—“

“Shh,” he begins in a hushed tone, the smell of your perfume making his brain cloud, the warmth of being so close to you making his eyes darken, eyes shutting momentarily as he takes a deep breath.

“König—“

“Gott, don’t sag meinen Namen like that,” he breathes out, the syllables leaving your lips making his breaths come a little more labored, his eyes gazing down at you almost pleadingly. His eyes trace every fleck in your irises, the way your lashes frame your orbs perfectly.

Obsession.

“It does bad things to my head. Makes me wanna—“ his breaths stop his words, jaw clenching as his fingers grip the door rail harder, his eyes never leaving your own, even when your eyes widen, lips parting to start speaking.

Only, his thumb presses against them, the rest of his digits curling under your chin as he shakes his head, his eyes flickering between yours.

“Don’t. You’re going to ruin it,” he whispers, already knowing the resistance about to spill from your lips, not wanting to hear how you’re married, how you’re not his.

Instead he lets his hand slide from your chin to let his fingers tangle in your hair at the side of your head, guiding you backwards against the open door, both of your bodies pressed between the door frame. His thumb skims down your cheek, the other hand loosely wrapping around the side of your neck, his thumb running down curve of your throat.

“Just let it happen,” he whispers, his voice a hoarse rasp, his hand sliding up the back of your head, digits tangling in your hair gently as he guides your face closer. He can feel the resistance, the feeling of your hand snapping out to grip his wrist. Your nails press crescents into his flesh, the cold metal of your wedding band grazing against his inked warmth only turning him on more.

“I can’t,” you choke out, your mind hazy, the warmth radiating from him slowly becoming suffocating. His hands keeping you in place, his knee wedging between your own is becoming overwhelming, the thought of your husband coming down the hallway at any given moment making your heart race faster, harder.

“You can. A piece of metal can’t stop me from taking what’s mine,” he gravels out, pushing his knee higher, the flutter it brings to your eyes satisfying as he watches every muscle in your face twitch. His head tips, lips grazing your own, sending a hot flush of arousal down to his lower abdomen, pulling taut as a choked gasp escapes your lips.

“I could give you a better one. A bigger one,” he breathes out against your mouth, making your head tip back into his palm, his eyes scraping back up your face, eyes piercing right into your own. Your throat bobs softly, breaths getting shallower the longer his eyes are on yours.

“And I’m not only talking about a ring, Schatz.”

Your eyes widen, facial muscles slackening at the sheer look of desire radiating from his gaze, his seriousness permeating through you. Your gaze flickers down almost instinctively, earning you a firmer press of his knee between your thighs as you gasp through a clenched jaw.

“Just say the word. And I’m all fucking yours.”

The words leave his mouth desperately, lilted and raspy as they reach the air, altering your brain chemistry as the line between loyalty and desire suddenly become blurry. Your hand grips him tighter, a trembling breath escaping your lips as your head falls to the side with a pleading look.

“Don’t—“

“Tell me,” he whispers, hands gripping the sides of your head firmer, keeping you exactly where he needs you. His eyes fall back to your lips, currently folded over between your teeth, your eyes slipping shut. His breaths are hard, trembling as he waits, desperation making his face lean closer, his body grow warmer.

“Tell me you want me,” he presses again, his voice a low rumble. “And I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your teeth release your lips as your eyes reopen, gazing at him with a soft breath hitch. It was wrong; caving into him was wrong, especially after listening to his voicemail he had sent you last night. More than once.

Imagining what I’d be like to cave into temptation.

Do something reckless.

“König—“

His name leaving your lips like that again has his control weakening, a trembling groan escaping his lips as he closes the distance. His lips capture yours, the soft warmth making his head spin, having imagined it countless times. But nothing prepared him for how good it felt in the flesh.

His hand, still tangled in your hair, tightens its grip slightly, his fingers massaging your scalp as he deepens the kiss even further. His other hand slides down from your waist, grazing lightly over your hip before settling on your ass, pulling you flush against him.

His hand tightens even further in your hair, his fingers gently tugging at the strands as he guides the kiss, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate. The taste of you drives him wild, fueling his hunger for more; more of you, more of the insatiable release he’s craving.

“You have…no idea,” he begins in a soft groan against your mouth, “how many times I’ve imagine doing this.” His lips part your own as his tongue brushes against yours, the resistance melting away as your mouth matches his fervor, only furthering the ache pressed against your lower belly.

His other hand slides down to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh possessively. With a swift motion, he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he shuts the door with his heel. The cool surface of the wall meets your back as he presses you against it, his body flush against yours.

“Did you enjoy my voicemail, sweet girl?” He gravels out, his nose tipping your jaw back as he presses kisses to your throat, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. He nips at your skin, leaving a mark that will remind you of him the next time you gaze into a mirror.

“I—“ your lower lip is sucked into your mouth as a low, rumbling moan escapes your lips, eyes half lidding as they roll shut, staying comprehensive becoming nearly impossible. He grins, the surge of possessiveness and excitement to your reciprocal responses only making him harder.

“Listening to how much I needed you, what you did to me without even being there. Fuck, you have me completely and utterly infatuated. Completely under your spell, Liebchen.”

His mouth kisses up to your chin, his hands sliding up your arms, fingers curling around your wrists as you hold onto him for support against the wall. He guides them to his mouth, lips pressing a kiss to every pad on every digit, his eyes gleaming as the reflection of your ring catches the moonlight.

His lips close around the tip of your ring finger with a guttural growl, pushing your small digit deeper as his teeth catch the edge of the ring, pulling it off your finger with his mouth. His eyes remain on yours, leaving your finger glistening as his tongue teases the hole of the band, before he jerks his head, letting it fall to the carpet.

“You’re not going to want that anymore. Not after I’m done with you.”

Your eyes remain wide, gasping softly at the rawness of his actions, unable to help the surge of arousal flushing between your thighs. Your hands grip him again as he guides you away from the wall, instead pinning you back against the half made bed from this morning.

His larger hips spread you wide under him, the softness of your thighs pressing against the jut of his pelvis making his breaths come harder. His hands slide up your torso, taking your shirt with it as his head dips to press kisses along the exposed flesh. Up your abdomen to your sternum, lingering as he keeps your shirt tangled around your wrists.

“Keep them there for me, ja? Im gonna give you something your husband probably never could,” he whispers against your torso, eyes widening as you watch his fingers hook into the band of your pants. The material slides off easily, his hands eagerly palming the warm, bare flesh he reveals, opening you wider for him as he sinks to his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed.

“Schön…so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips pressing along the inside of your knee, hands gripping when your muscles jump, your gasp making him want to pull even more sounds from you, trailing a path to where he knows you’re aching.

His fingers pull your panties to the side, too eager to bother removing them before he licks a languid, light stripe vertically. Your hips tipping makes his eyes half lid, already drunk on your taste. He lets out a groan as a trembling moan leaves your lips, his lips closing around your clit, focusing on the spot that has your fingers fisting the sheets above your head.

“Fuck, you taste better than any of my fantasies,” he groans against you, his hand lifting to probe a finger at your dripping entrance, sinking it inside as his eyes roll shut. Being this tight around one of his fingers has his cock throbbing, aching to be buried inside of you.

His name escaping your lips pushes him to redouble his efforts, the taste of you making him even more eager, unable to help himself. His hands keep your thighs open, tongue dipping inside of you alongside his fingers as your hips buck slightly, rolling against his lips as your back arches, the sight so erotic he swears he could cum just by watching you enjoy yourself.

Your thighs beginning to tremble around his head and your body growing restless has his cock throbbing, his tongue narrowing in on your clit as he pulls it between his lips, groaning as your high pitched moan turns into a desperate plea of his name.

“Ja, baby that’s it. Cum for me, show me who it is who knows exactly how to please you, how to treat you,” he groans, sliding another finger inside as he curls them, pumping them in a rhythm that has you seeing stars. Your eyes roll shut as jerky tremors race through your body, his eyes opening hazily to watch you succumb to your orgasm.

Your cheeks are flushed, your lower lip trapped between your teeth, and it makes his hips press into the mattress, grinding slightly to get any form of relief. He groans as he continues to lap at you, pulling every ounce of pleasure from your body as you weakly squirm against his grip.

He relents, slowly pulling away as you tremble, his hands soothingly running up your thighs as he grips the soft flesh, standing back up as his eyes darken. The tent in his pants has never felt so painful, so stiff, his body unable to focus on anything other than being inside of you.

“I need you,” he breathes out, his hand already pulling on his belt, his eyes half lidding as he uses his knees to spread your shaking legs open once more, your eyes focused on his hand freeing himself from the torment of his pants. Your mind is reeling, the soft tan line on your finger from where the ring used to be making you feel conflicted.

But the sheer ecstasy coursing through you replaces any doubts, your lips parting to gasp as his hand pushes down on the material of your shirt between your wrists above your head, keeping them pinned them to the bed.

“I’ll reach places your husband could only dream of, Schatz. Show you how it feels to be under a real man,” he growls out, his eyes lowering to watch himself push against your folds, his breaths growing more labored.

Immediately your hands are palming his hips, attempting to slow the hard length of him stretching you open almost painfully, choking on strangled gasps as his groan of relief passes through his lips. His hand grips the back of your thigh as he leans forward, pushing it closer to your chest as the curve of the back of your knee settles over his shoulder. He pushes harder against the shirt around your wrists, keeping them above your head as he gazes at you.

“You can handle it, for me, ja?” He pants, his control slipping as his fingers tense into the sheets above your head, the other pressing your bound wrists deeper into the mattress. Your back arches as he pushes the remaining inches inside of you, bottoming out as his head hangs low, your foreheads brushing as you let out a choked sound resembling a moan.

His hips slide back, before he’s plunging inside again, your eyes struggling to stay open as he starts to move, deep, harsh strokes that already have you crying out.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking tight, exactly how I imagined,” he groans out, his hips picking up speed, the headboard rattling softly against the wall as his fingers twist harder into the sheets, your fingers void of feeling from his tight grip around the cloth.

You moan, your eyes fluttering closed as a mix of pleasure and a hint of pain dance across your features. It only makes him more carnal, more possessive as he becomes immersed in your tight depths. The sensations have your thighs wanting to close, but his hips keep you open, sinking into you over and over again.

His hand lets go of your wrists before he has it snaking under your back, holding onto you as he drags you ontop of him. His back leans against the headboard, parted lips releasing a groan. You gasp as your thighs straddle him, sinking down onto his cock deeper as your lips part in pleasure. “Fuck, that’s it. Taking all of me like the good fucking girl that you are,” he groans, his feet hiking up the bed for leverage as his knees bend, before his hips thrust upwards.

It makes your head fall back, your nails sinking into his broad shoulders as a muffled moan escapes your lips that your teeth currently have ahold of. He takes the opportunity to wrap his hand through your silky hair, tugging it backwards gently as he exposes the soft expanse of your throat.

He leans forward, lips capturing your warm flesh as his teeth sink into your pulse point, lips pulling your flesh between them as he sucks. It’s painful and carnal, knowing a deep splotchy mark will be there when you wake the following day, mirroring the other he gave you earlier. He trails down, rotating between harsh bites and whispered kisses, making your hips roll against him. His hand tightens in your hair as the other drags down your back, settling on your hip as he pushes you harder down onto him, effectively ripping whimpers and moans from your pretty little mouth.

“Fucking hell, you’re so good at taking me. Like you were practically made for my cock,” he groans, his fingers digging almost painfully into your hip as he drives into you repeatedly, each thrust harder than the previous. Your hands flex on his shoulders, letting out a moan as his arms wrap around your slender back, fingers curling around the backs of your slender scapulas.

"You're fucking mine. Du gehörst mir, [you belong to me.]" He says, his hands dragging down your back, one of his large hands palming your ass as he grips rather harshly, moving your hips for you ontop of him. His hungry gaze all but devours your body writhing ontop of him once more before he speaks again. "Is that clear?"

You bite down on your lip as your eyes hood, gazing down at him with an innocence you weren't trying to use, eyes wide and round, your orbs darkening a shade. "Yes," you gasp out, fingers twitching against his shoulders as you arch away from him slightly, your eyes drinking in the look of his face, his eyebrows drawn together in pleasure, his lips parted just the slightest as soft puffs of air escape him.

"Say it. Sag mir, dass du mein bist. [Tell me you're mine.]" He says raggedly, his own self control slipping as he slides his hands up your neck, his fingers curling around the back of your head, thumbs digging into the soft flesh under your jaw as he holds you there. It forces you to look directly into his eyes, your lips trembling as he stills inside of you, pushing his cock as far it’ll go as he holds it there. His fingers tense around your head, his bicep straining under the pressure. The veins rise to the surface of his epidermis, pulsing with the sheer need radiating in his body.

“Fuck, I’m yours,” you cry out quietly, the feeling of his cock pressed so deep inside of you bringing moisture to the edges of your eyes as your walls flutter and clench around him. His lips tip into a grin as a chuckle leaves his lips, his head nodding as he starts moving, punishingly quickening his pace once more.

“Such a good girl. Fuck, you were made for this, made to be fucked by me, not that husband of yours,” he groans out, his hands falling away from your face, instead pulling your arm behind your back. One of his hands flex around your bicep, clenching tightly as the other grips your wrist, pulling it back straight and keeping you firmly rooted on top of him.

The sensation makes pain ripple through your muscle fibers, a burning sensation that has you breaching closer to the edge as your legs begin to lock up. He can sense it, his fingers curling harder into your flesh as his hips drive upwards maddeningly.

And in an instant you’re back on your back as he pushes you backwards, his cock slamming deep inside of you once more as his hips spread you open. Your thighs open wider, pressing against the harsh jut of his pubic bone harder, a telltale sign you were close.

“Mein Gott, I need you to cum for me. I need to feel that sweet little cunt of yours squeezing me as you take me,” he groans out desperately, his hips snapping forward harder, faster, chasing his own impending release as his face buries in the crook of your neck.

Your hands clawing at his back has his jaw gritting in sheer ecstasy, the pain something he was becoming addicted too. Your muffled moans and cries have him relentlessly hitting that spot inside of you, your walls clenching down on him as your orgasm takes over triggering his own.

“Fick! Ja, that’s so fucking good—“ he moans out, hips sloppily thrusting as his whole body tenses, his breath held as he spills inside of you. His chest heaves slightly as he slows down his pace, his breaths choked up as he tries to expel them out of his tightening chest. His hips shallowly rock into you as he rides out the tremors of his climax, his body shuddering as he finally slips out.

Fully sated blue eyes gaze down at you as you finally open your eyes, body aching as you struggle to breathe. He presses more of his weight on his forearms, his lips finding yours, languid and deep, making your head spin as he pulls back with a groan.

Before he can even speak, the sound of your door opening has both of your heads turning, the sight of your husband standing there drawing a smirk to his lips. His hands possessively keep the sides of your face in his grip, his eyes glinting almost manically.

“What the fuck?”

——

“Keep your eyes on me, Schatz,” he whispers against your mouth, his hands threading through your hair at the side of your head. His eyes never leave yours, the sheer panic and lingering hints of regret making him bent on making sure you don’t crawl back to your husband; not after what just happened between the both of you.

“Y/n! Look at me! I’m your husband, not him! Did he drug you or something? Did you take advantage of her?” Your husband yells, and it makes Königs eyes roll, his pathetic brain storming making him physically ick as those become the only logical explanations for your husband.

Your lips part to speak but his thumb presses against your still kiss-swollen flesh, shaking his head slightly before he turns it to face your husband. The look on his face has his ego surging; knowing the sight of your thighs still wrapped around his hips and your fingers digging into his shoulders is driving your husband mad.

“Is it so hard to believe your little wife wanted me back? Wanted someone who could please her, fuck her the right way? Mein Gott, you should have heard the way I was making her scream my name as she told me she was all mine,” he taunts, the smirk broadening on his lips as your husbands face goes red, his body rushing forward.

“Woah, easy buddy. Come any closer and it won’t be very pretty,” König bites out, his eyes darkening as he rolls off of you, making sure to let the sheet cover your body. His own hands slip his pants back on, his stature easily over shadowing your husband as he buttons his jeans, chin tipping arrogantly as he gazes through half lidded eyes.

“You—I—“ your husbands words come out strained, his eyes narrowing as he gazes at you over Königs shoulder, your body shrinking into the covers as embarrassment and regret crash over you.

“This is ridiculous! Y/n! Get up, we’re leaving. Or else,” your husband grits out, but König is quick to side step, effectively blocking his path to you as his eyes darken. His jaw clenches, his head tipping as his abdominal muscles flex.

“You dare threaten her?” König growls out, his hand gripping your husband’s shoulder as he shoves him backwards slightly, his vision slowly bleeding out into blackness, rage overcoming him at the tone your husband had spoken to you with.

“Don’t fucking touch me! I think you’ve done enough of that with my wife already,” your husband refutes, his words snapping something inside of him as his hand snaps out, gripping his shoulder harder this time as he shoves him roughly against the wall. Some of the picture frames rattle, the items on the night stand toppling over.

“Where’s her ring, big guy?” König smirks manically, eyes flickering with anger as he eyes him down, his digits digging harder into his shoulder, unable to help the physical reaction to someone coming near you with malicious intent. His eyes skirt to the metal band on the floor, your husbands eyes following.

“I don’t think she’s your wife anymore,” he says lowly, quietly, and the whole thing exploding in front of your eyes has them stuck wide, your fingers clutching the sheets as you watch the two men hash it out over you.

“Fuck you!” Your husband yells before his hand takes König by surprise, his fist meeting his cheek and nose, the hot spring of crimson sliding from his nose down to his lip finally making him snap. His hand is quick to block his next attack before Königs hand drives into his stomach, his foot knocking him off balance as he delivers a punch to his face.

“Grave fucking mistake,” König growls, knees digging into the carpet as a flurry of fists and grunts fill the air, your eyes widening in fear as you suddenly spring from the bed. You slide Königs shirt on, eyes wide, trying to find a way to halt the brawl currently breaking things on your dresser and desk as the two men ruthlessly tear into the other.

Königs knuckles split under the pressure of his fists meeting your husbands face, blood and saliva raining over his closed digits. Rage consumes him, unable to stop, his grunts and strangled breaths mixing in with your husbands groans of pain.

“König, stop! You’re gonna kill him!”

Your voice suddenly breaks him from his anger induced stupor, his breaths ragged as he pushes away from him, sinking back on his ass as his eyes scrape from him to you, the sheer fear on your face suddenly making him feel guilty. His breaths escape as bursts of air, his head tipping to gaze at you, unable to help the emotions flooding through him at the sight of you in his shirt.

“He yelled at you, I—“ He manages to compose himself, his eyes skirting back to your husband pushing away from the floor, the back of his hand wiping away the warm crimson pooling on his lip. Your eyes soften slightly, his aggression a reaction of his protection for you doing something twisted in your head.

Was it attractive? Definitely.

“You know what? Fuck this. And fuck the both of you,” your husband bites out through a split lip, the muffled words making you wince, hand absently taming your hair as your nervously bite on your lower lip. The door slamming has your eyes trained on the space your husband was just occupying, a rush of emotions flooding into you.

“Hey, Schatz. Don’t worry about him. With me, you’ll never spend another day worrying about anything,” he whispers, turning to stand on his knees in front of you, eyes keen on your hand lifting, thumb grazing the sore flesh covering his cheekbone. Your delicate touch has his breaths still labored, his hands running up the back of your thighs as he keeps you close to his chest.

“Let me clean you up,” you whisper, hand dropping to graze his bloodied lip, thumb dragging the crimson down to his chin, unable to help the flicker of attraction simmering behind your irises. The sight of him bloodied and bruised all because of you has your lips parting, head tipping as your hand slowly slips off his face.

“That can wait, ja? All this adrenaline’s got me worked up again.”

He rises to his full height, hands sliding under his shirt to cup your ass, easily lifting you, your warmth seeping against him as he walks towards the bathroom, purposely kicking your wedding band aside as he does so, making a vow to chuck it off the next chopper he’s on.

As your eyes meet in the bathroom mirror you can’t help but let your eyes wander his, hands caressing his arms as he sets you on the counter. You head tips to gaze up at him slowly, locking eyes as he stares at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

All because of one voicemail.

#könig #könig smut #könig x reader #könig fanfiction #könig call of duty #call of duty #könig cod

83 notes · View notes

mamaestapa · 10 months

Note

omg just a blurb of christmas with joe like going to a light festival or something

Winter Wonderland|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: You and Joe stop at a park to look at Christmas lights on your way to Athens for the holidays

•warnings: none, all fluff :)

"Oooo," you said in awe as you pointed at the brightly lit up Christmas tree sitting in the middle of the park, "look at that tree." Joe hummed as he looked in the direction you were pointing. The Christmas tree was decked out in both white and golden lights, brightening up the whole center of the park.

You and Joe continued to walk through the park, looking at all of the trees and other Christmas themed figures that were covered in lights. It was a couple days before Christmas. You and Joe were on your way to his hometown of Athens when you drove past a small park just outside of the city. You noticed that there were what seemed like hundreds of Christmas lights scattered around the park. You were going to ask Joe to make a pit stop at the park, but you didn’t even have to ask him. Joe knew you loved looking at Christmas lights during the holidays, so pulled into the park without even saying anything to you.

You walked arm and arm through the park, both of you pointing out your favorite light decorations to one another. As you walked through the park, you started shiver, wishing you had brought a beanie just like Joe did. Your teeth chattered as you walked down a path lined with gaudy decorated Christmas trees. Joe chuckled at the sound of your chattering teeth and your shivering figure.

“You cold sweets?” he asked, wrapping an arm around your waist. You nodded, letting out a breathy laugh, “A little. That obvious?” Joe smiled warmly at you and reached up to pull the Bengals beanie he wore during those chilly or snowy Sunday games, off of his head. He ran his fingers through his dark blonde hair, fixing his hat hair. You giggled at the singular hair that was out of place on the top of his head. You reached up to flatten it, Joe silently thanking you as he handed you the beanie. “For that pretty little head of yours. Don’t want you to be cold.” You smiled, grabbing the beanie and putting on the top of your head, adjusting your hair in the process. You thanked Joe and wrapped your arm back around him as the two of you continued your walk through the lit up park.

“Look at the snowmen,” you said, pointing at the three hugging snowmen. Joe smiled, “They’re cute. I like the flashing scarves.” The scarves around the snowmen were different colors, one had a red scarf, one had a blue scarf, and the other had a purple scarf. Each scarves color lit up with a subtle flashing light. You and Joe both thought it looked super cool.

You continued your walk through the park, your hand’s entwined the whole time you walked, even occasionally cuddling up close with each other to stay warm. As you came to then end of the path, you and Joe shared with each other what your favorite light on the path was. Joe’s favorite were the reindeer and giant snowflakes scattered along the pathway, while your favorite was the archway at the end of the path, wrapped with bright LED icicle lights and fake mistletoe, which was also wrapped in colored lights.

You and Joe stopped under the lit up archway, Joe’s blue eyes looking extremely bright under the LED icicle lights. He glanced up to the arch above you, a playful smirk making its way onto his face. He looked back down on you, the smirk on his face growing as he locked eyes with you.

“Look.” Joe said, using his eyes to gesture to the roof of the arch. You looked up, a small smile appearing on your face as you saw what Joe was referring to. Mistletoe tied together with a white string was hanging off the top of the arch. “Mistletoe.” You said, your voice quiet. Joe reached out and placed a hand on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You know what that means.” He teased with a playful smirk. You smiled and got up on your tip toes, leaning in to kiss those pink lips of his you loved so much. Joe smiled into the kiss before he pulled away and put his forehead against yours. You stared into each others eyes, exchanging a loving gaze.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Joe.”

Joe wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled his forehead off of yours before the two of you walked away from under the archway, and back to Joe’s car to continue your journey back to his childhood home.

hey loves!

a cute little christmas blurb to get the blurb night started! this was such a cute idea anon🥰

this one was on the shorter side. some of these are little longer than others, but like i’ve said before, it all depends on the request!

i have some good blurbs coming tonight, so stay tuned👀 all of these ideas you all have sent in are perfect, keep ‘em coming!🤍

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow blurbs #blurb night

209 notes · View notes

goldenfigtree · 7 months

Note

OMG THAT WAS ONLY PART 1 OF THE FIC ????? HELP I NEED MORE I NEED TO SEE MORE OF THIS

Raise A Glass

Summary: Part 2 of 3, After your passionate moment with Leon in the garden, you feel even more conflicted than you were before.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x FemReader

Warning: Fluff

A/N: Ask and you shall receive! Part one is below if you've yet to read it :)

Part one

Bright and luminous, the moon hangs from its invisible string, blissfully unaware of its glow shining through your windows and onto your face. The sounds of Will’s snores were the only sound throughout your home while you laid in bed without a blink of sleep, fingers intertwined together and thumbs twiddling.

This was unlike you, especially with the rehearsal dinner coming soon this evening and the wedding another day later. Most days that consisted of wedding planning left you in shambles, collapsing onto your plush mattress with a pitiful whine into your pillows and soon after, sleep swooping you under its wing. This new stressful yet effective routine had helped you gain all the hours of sleep you purposely lost before. But not this time, not when your mind was captivated with guilt, confusion, and stress. Ever since that moment in the garden, your mind has been an utter mess.

You thought you were in a moment of distress before, hell, now you really knew what distress was after leaving Leon in such a state.

You let out a sharp exhale through your teeth, brows furrowed as Leon’s face flashed into your mind, your lipstick residue on his lips, over and over again. And those eyes, God, those ocean blue irises watching you run away.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The antique grandfather clock Will refused to throw out, despite your visible distaste for it, mocked you with its consistent clicking. Only reminding you that you needed to decide what road to take, now that there were two. Sliding your hands underneath the pillow lying under your head, you bring the sides to your ears in hopes the ticking and clicking will go away.

God, you always hated that clock, you didn’t care if it was a family heirloom. It was as hideous as it is noisy, but Will insisted. Just like how he insisted on having yellow as one of the colors of the wedding theme, forgetting how much you despised the color. You really wished time travel was a thing so you could stop yourself from fighting with him about how little effort and input he had put into the wedding. Maybe while you were at it, you could stop yourself from kissing those soft plump lips at the garden fountain. .

No, you couldn’t even if you tried.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that man had always been the apple of your eye. One mission with you and him as partners was all that it took for the both of you to hit it off. It was hard to not get along with Leon Kennedy. Someone so humble, kind, and loyal to his comrades. You always knew, if all else fails, Leon Kennedy was there to save the day. Which was also why he was overly worked. Everyone knew the way Leon Kennedy executed missions and pushed himself was on a different level. A level so many competitive and envious agents tried to achieve and so many other smitten agents oggled at. He was practically a celebrity to anyone working with the government. So, you didn’t look twice at the possibility of him perceiving you in any other light that wasn’t friendly, much less romantic. With all the options he had, certainly not.

And yet, He kissed you.

Subconsciously, your bottom lip traps itself between your teeth. Being so good at everything, you didn’t expect him to be a good kisser too. What couldn’t that man do?

Jesus Christ. How heartless can I be?

You think to yourself, turning to your soon-to-be husband, snoring away, blissfully unaware of the mess you were at the moment. At this point, sleep was a lost cause and you needed some fresh air. Swinging your legs to the edge of the bed, you slowly get up and walk out of the bedroom. Arms crossed, in your silk nightgown, you walk silently to your kitchen and make a beeline to the coffee maker. Call it self-sabotage, but you desperately need a friend. And since you kissed the only person you could talk to, coffee would have to suffice for now. Making it just the way you like, you walk outside and sit on one of the patio chairs, bathing in twilight as you take a comforting sip.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

There it was again, that blasted ticking of the grandfather clock– or was it just your head? It’s midnight and you’re exhausted from your mental turmoil so with another sip you decide to ignore it. However, one thought loomed over you like a stormy cloud, no matter the effort to fan it away,

You are getting married in two days.

“What am I going to do?” You murmur to yourself, eyes pressed shut as you run a hand through your hair. Then you remembered, you do have someone you can talk to about this. Pulling your phone out from you pajama pants pocket, you dial the number quickly, “C’mon pick up. I know you’re awake” you whisper urgently to yourself as you hold up your phone to your ear. With two dials, a voice answers,

“Can’t sleep either huh?” Claire wittedly greets over the line. Your lips curve into a smile of relief,

“Nope” You perkily reply, earning a chuckle on the other end, “Do you have time to talk? I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“No, what’s up?”

There’s a pause between you that’s almost hesitant, hesitant enough for Claire to press,

“Is everything okay?” With a sheepish chuckle, you shake your head,

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine. I just need someone to talk to about… Leon” There’s another pause,

“Oh!” Claire cheerily replies, almost too cheerful you noticed.

“Yeah, did you see Leon at the engagement party a few days ago at all?”

“Yeah, I bumped into him on the way to getting your engagement present. But after that, I didn’t see him for the rest of the evening”

Your heart dropped, he must have left shortly after you ran away. You couldn’t blame him, but the thought of Leon being upset or hurt by you was slowly killing you inside.

“Did.. something happen?” Claire gingerly asks. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a long sigh,

“Yeah, I.. kissed him. At the engagement party” One hand holding the phone to your ear, you use the other to pinch the bridge of your nose as you continue, “I know Claire, I know”

“Well, how was it?” You eyes flutter open in shock,

“Huh?”

“You heard me, how was it?” With a nervous chuckle, you try to find someway to word it, but your words were utterly failing you at the moment,

“It was… awesome” Claire’s laughter erupts the phone as you wince at your choice of words,

“Really?” Claire says teasingly,

“Shut up”

“Any specific reason why you decided to kiss Leon at your engagement party?”

“Well you, of all people, you know I’ve always had feelings for Leon. And then I met Will..”

“Uhuh” Claire beckons you to go on,

“And Will’s just so nice and safe. Not something I’m particularly used to so I jumped into this relationship and now we’re getting married in two days and those feelings I have for Leon, they’re still there.” You ramble, voice trembling, your foot anxiously tapping on the floor as you look out to your freshly cut green lawn.

“Sounds to me that you’re conflicted”

“You think?” You mutter under your breath, anxious for some answers, some directions of which road to take,

“You mentioned you like Will because he’s safe right?”

“Yeah, I mean he’s a teacher, so my work schedule won’t be hard if we start a family. And he makes me laugh. He’s just all around just a nice guy”

“That’s nice n’ all but people usually get married for love not convenience” Claire bluntly comments, “Look, I know you, you’re not one to take risks, which can be good at times but to marry someone because they don’t challenge you is not safe”

“So, should I run to Leon then?”

“I don’t know, that’s for you to decide” Claire responds, earning another dramatic groan from you, “I know I know, but I’m not going to make life choices for you. Need help deciding whether to drink decaf or not, then I’ll have an answer for you”

The both of you share a laugh as you feel the distress you were feeling a few minutes before slightly lift off.

–

10 more minutes. 10 more minutes until everyone would arrive for the rehearsal dinner. You couldn’t help but repeat everything Claire had said in your head as you put on your earrings,

“Safety or love, safety or love” you whispered to yourself, not realizing Will walking right past you,

“You say something honey?” Avoiding his gaze, you try your best to focus on the application of your makeup as Will approaches you, pressing down the panic in your chest as you feel his presence closing in,

“No, just focused on my makeup. Want it to be just right for tonight” Resting his hands on your shoulders, he looks at you through the bathroom mirror, his green eyes glowing from the bright bathroom light along with his shimmering golden blonde hair,

“You look great babe” He reassured pressing a kiss on the back of your neck. It took a second to realize that he did because what you felt was nothing, absolutely nothing, “Your family is on their way, Claire is going to be a little late”

“Is Leon coming?” the green eyes in the reflection that once glowed with their usual uppity, darkened almost immediately,

“I don’t know, why?” Averting his eyes you resume applying lipstick onto your lips. The air was so thick with tension it could be sliced through with a knife,

“Just wondering babe” you say as nonchalant as possible, earning a scoff from Will,

“You know he showed up late and left early at our engagement party? For someone that’s a close friend of yours, he sure doesn’t seem supportive” Will comments resentfully,

You could feel a coiling in your stomach at his words, your tongue suddenly having a mind of its own,

“He’s very busy, Will. Him showing up for our engagement party and our rehearsal dinner is supportive enough”

“That’s right, how could I forget? Leon Brown-Noser Kennedy can do no wrong in anyone’s eyes, especially yours” Will quips viciously, tightening the knot of his tie in the long mirror. The coil in your stomach tightened even more as you looked back at him through the bathroom mirror, pupils shrinking,

“What’s your problem?” You ask, glaring at him as you twist the cap of your mascara back in place.

Will doesn’t look at you, only scoffs once more as he straightens his blazer, “what’s my problem?” with one last look in the mirror, he doesn’t look at you as he walks out of the room, only muttering one word in passing, “Nothing”

You flinch at the sudden sound of him slamming the door, the sound alone preparing you, for what you already knew, was going to be a long night. But, you knew that you had to keep on with this search for what you wanted. And tonight, Leon was the one bearing the answers you so desperately needed. You wondered what he was thinking now, did he regret the kiss? Knowing him, you assumed he would want answers, answers you didn’t have yourself. Your rather gaudy engagement ring sparkles in the mirror aggressively, almost like the high beams of a car at night. Bringing it closer to your face, the memories stored in its jagged cuts and silver band dance around your head like a carousel. It was truly a beautiful moment, Will practically in tears as he professes his love to you on one knee, everyone around you at the pier looking at the both of you with awe and joy, the sun setting just for the two of you. It was truly breathtaking, but was it you? You had your wedding planned practically since birth, you knew exactly what type of cut of gemstone you wanted, the color scheme, the venue, the dress, absolutely everything. Was this massive rock on your finger what you admired in the wedding magazines as a kid? Was a public proposal always something you longed for when watching cheesy rom-coms?

The answer was no and you knew it. But Will loved you, maybe not in the ways you wished he would but he loved you. Leon on the other hand, you had no idea how he felt and that alone was more terrifying than any biohazard monstrosity you’ve seen. One moment of passion wasn’t enough to throw this safety net away. You needed confirmation. You needed reciprocation. With a huff of a breath you look at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the neckline of your snowy white strapless dress. You were ready for this, you had to be for the sake of what lies ahead.

Walking down the stairs, your can’t help but look around at who arrived, looking for a certain someone. It seemed that everyone noticed you make your entrance and looked up at you as you gazed down at them, gripping the stair railing to make sure you didn’t trip and fall to your death. You receive some greetings, some singing jokingly “here comes the bride”, but the only person you seemed to notice was him.

He was there, gazing at you, pupils billowing, invading his blue irises. You almost forgot to breathe as you made your way down the stairs, step by step. Making it to the bottom, you make your way to him, eyes fixated at him with such determination that the crowd parted as you neared them. Finally, you meet him where he stands,

“Can we talk?” You ask quietly, so no one else could hear. You try your hardest not to glance down at his lips but it seemed that Leon didn’t hesitate to look down at yours before nodding. The tension between the two of you dissolving by the clearing of the throat by Will,

“Better dig in before the food gets cold, you coming sweetheart?” Will asks expectantly, lending a hand for you to take. Your heart drops at the sight of it, you hoped to get your answers before dinner. Before Leon decided to briskly sneak away back to the comfort of his home like last time. But, with one last longing look, you take Will’s hand and let him lead you to the dining room.

The dining room was centered with a long glossy wood table, golden candleholders held the tall waxy candles in place as they dripped along the rims. Food trays and bowls lined and scattered along the table. The candlelight made the food and atmosphere all the more alluring enough for everyone to quickly sit down and be ready to serve themselves.

The small talk with in-laws alone was thinning your patience, only the few glances at Leon talking to Claire keeping you sane. Sometimes Leon would make eye contact with you and smile, you couldn’t help but smile back before noticing the squeezing of your hand by Will’s. After a bit of eating and socializing, Will taps his champagne glass with his spoon to quiet down your guests,

“First of all, I just want to thank all of you for coming to support our union. I hope your full bellies are evident enough of our gratitude” polite laughter briefly rises at his words before he continues on, “It’s an Allen family tradition to have a few people make a toast to the soon-to-be wed couple, care to start us off Leon?”

Everyone at the table immediately snaps their necks to look at him for his reaction. It was safe to say this wasn’t expected. Your stomach dropped as you looked up at Will, eyebrows turned up in worry as you glanced back at him apologetically. Leon, being Leon, only gives you a reassuring smile before standing up and lifting his glass with him,

“First, I’d like to say congratulations to the lovely couple” both your family and Will’s nod in approval,

“Choosing the person you want to spend your life with, is the most important decision in our lives. It should be with someone that knows you, challenges you, sees all the good in you that you don’t see in yourself. And I have to say William, you have found that someone in her.”

While he says this, his eyes slowly trail to you, giving you a warm feeling in your chest, “The moment I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. Then once I got to meet you, I found out I was right. You carry yourself with so much strength but also with so much love to give. And I’m so grateful to be one of the receptors of it. I think I might have taken it for granted. But I need you to know now and forever, no matter where you are, no matter who you’re married to, I will always love you”

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes drip with tears, yet never straying away from his, deafening silence fills the dining hall as relatives and friends glance at one another in shock and confusion. This was it, the confirmation you were looking for, brought to your feet.

“Like a brother to his sister, cheers to the Bride and Groom” He adds to save face before lifting his glass higher, the rest of the table following suit before gulping down their champagne.

#leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy drabble #resident evil #drama #forbidden love?#uhohhhh #uh ohhhh

108 notes · View notes

siempre-bucky · 2 years

Text

dominant enough, mrs. bridgerton?

Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader x Benedict Bridgerton

Summary: You had a simple request for your beloved husband, "I want you to be more dominant in bed." Stunned by your request, Colin sought advice from your former lover, his brother.

warnings: heavy smut, pussy slapping, deep throating, orgasm denial, vaginal sex, oral sex(m and f receiving), threesome. minors dni

wc: 4.1k

A/N: I have it bad for luke squared. These two men have ruined my life in the best way... this is my first time writing a threesome and for Colin. I couldn't resist. ♡

Benedict hummed in tandem with the long stroke of his paintbrush; he thought it was a method of creating a solid line with the rich paint. His train of thought came to an abrupt halt by his newlywed little brother strutting into the room, his boots clicking on the wood floor of the day room. "I can hear you thinking from here, brother," Benedict sighed, peeling his eyes off the colorful canvas.

Colin huffed and rubbed his chin with his fingers in thought before stealing a cake of his brother's set up. Before the elder Bridgerton could scold him, he took notice of the blush that graced the younger brother's blush. "You and Y/N finally decide to leave the bed?"

"Hush," Colin huffed, tilting his head.

"Trouble in paradise already?" Benedict gathered from the sharp response.

Colin dramatically sprawled out onto the light blue couch, "She told me something..."

Benedict rolled his eyes and went back to focusing on his painting, "Must I force it out of you? It seems like you're dying to tell me."

Colin was more afraid to tell his brother what his wife had requested of him. Normally, Colin felt comfortable coming to his brothers with his problems and seeking advice; he always trusted them no matter how silly. Yet this, he wasn't sure how the artist would react. "Y/N told me she would like me to be more-" he paused, caught up in his embarrassment, "-dominant in the bedroom."

His head rolled to the side to see Benedict's eyes almost bug out of his head. A loud cough escaped his throat, and an alarmingly bright red flush from the explicit memories rushed to his face. "What?" was all he could muster.

"I thought she rather liked how I performed," Colin sighed, pouting his swollen lips. "What did you do to please my wife?"

First, Benedict wanted to smack the smirk off his little brother's face. Second, he wanted the memories to stop sending shock waves throughout his body. It was no secret to Colin of the past you and Benedict had shared while attending the Academy together. Benedict remembered the nights of years past in the empty drawing rooms with his hand wrapped up in your hair, strings of saliva hanging from your chin from having his cock shoved down your throat.

And how could he forget those eyes of yours, the teary ones drunk from the pleasure of being tied down by his belt while his fingers tortured your clit. How they looked up at him needy and desperate for his touch. The ones that cried with joy while saying "I do" to his brother.

"That's my good girl," his voice came in the form of distant echoes. "Take it all the way down, and I'll give you what you really want."

"Benedict," your whine flooded his brain.

"No, no. What do you call me?"

"Mr. Bridgerton... Please fu-"

"Benedict?" Colin's booming voice brought him back out of the clouds.

Benedict hastily placed his messy palette on the table and went to open a window. The cool spring air eased the heat on his cheeks. "W-what, Col?"

"What do you think she would like?" His voice came out soft. There was no denying Colin would do anything to please you.

"She's a brat," Benedict managed, "when you demand things from her, do not let up. She will push all your buttons. Her hair, pull it so hard it might tear from her scalp."

Colin's eyes went a little wide, he never wished to inflict pain. "Don't worry..." Benedict muttered, "she loves it."

It was almost on cue that you slowly strolled into the room, your nose buried in one of the leather-bound books you picked up on your honeymoon. Colin's eyes instantly went to your chest, deep purple marks made the night before poking out of the pale blue dress you wore.

Having finally finished the page of the book, your eyes peered upwards. Colin's face was a familiar crimson, his chest heaving beneath his waistcoat. Your gaze shifted to the corner of the room, landing on Benedict who trained his eyes on his canvas, his fingers gripping his brush so tightly you swore it would break.

You gracefully at down next to your nerve wrecked husband, placing your book down on the table in front of you. It didn't take long for you to notice the tent growing in his pants. "Colin," you murmured, leaning in closer, "is there something you wish to tell me."

"I have been thinking about what you had told me, my love."

You smirked, your head cocking to the side. You'd be lying if you said the nervous quiver in his voice didn't excite you. If he truly had been thinking about your request, you might as well see if he would act on it. The smirk didn't go away as you placed your hand on his thigh dangerously close to his crotch as you stood up.

Benedict gathered his kit as you strolled over to the table in the corner, your eyes briefly connecting as you delicately picked up the teapot. "Don't let the maids find you," he grinned playfully before making a swift exit.

Colin's eye's followed his older brother to ensure his exit.

"Y/N."

That tone. You never heard that tone come from Colin before. It was low with a raspy grit that stilled your movements. A stark contrast to his sweet melodic voice you fell for. This one, this one made your heart skip a beat; it made you clutch the handle of the teapot a little tighter. Letting out a shaky breath, you smiled, and your eyes fluttered shut. "Yes," you breathed.

"Come here," he demanded.

After sitting the teapot on the table you slowly sauntered over to him. His arms were draped along the back of the couch, his legs spread open wide. "What's all this?" you asked, knowing damn well what he was trying to do

"Get on your knees for me."

You fought back a shutter and the appearance of goosebumps on your skin, but you certainly let yourself feel the wave of pleasure to your core. It was his first time acting like this, you told yourself that you should play nice and do what he asked of you. Be the doting wife the ton expected of you, but you were not that kind of girl. Maybe you would submit when the sound of Colin growling your name soaked your silk panties. Colin wasn't to that point yet.

Letting out a chuckle, you place your hand in front of you, raising your eyebrows teasingly at him. The brunette's jaw visibly clenched at your defiance, and even after Benedict's warning, he expected you to fall apart in front of him. "On my knees? Oh, my darling," you snickered as you shook your head at him.

It was exhilarating! The anticipation of what he would do next. Would he leap up and grab you by the hair and force you on your knees? Or would he wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until your vision felt blurry? Yet there was also the thought of him giving up and beg you for forgiveness.

You and Colin were locked in a bitter staredown. His plush lips opened to speak again but it wasn't Colin's voice that entered your ears. It was lower, and his accent thickened. "He said get on your knees," Benedict demanded lowly from behind you.

There's the flood.

Your head whipped around to see Benedict leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly, his arms folded across his broad chest. "Benedict?" your voice came out in the form of a whisper.

His eyes glanced at you, narrowing his eyes and dipping his head low as if he was asking for your permission. You nodded sheepishly as your lips slightly parted with your teeth poking out to bite your lower one.

Colin swallowed the discomfort. He saw the way you crossed your legs, at first he thought it was because it was solely because of Benedict's presence. Then he the desperate look in your eyes when you turned to face him, seeing how your chest was rapidly rising as he slowly looked you up and down. You wanted him too.

"Brother, would you help me remind her how to obey her husband?" Colin asked evenly.

You and Benedict both looked at him with shocked expressions. Did Colin Bridgerton suggest a threesome? "Colin..." you whimper, trying to fight back the excitement from the pit of your stomach.

Benedict nodded and briskly walked up to you, his strong hand gripping a fist full of your hair, making you cry out. The taller man bent down to whisper in your ear, "Is this what you want, Y/N? Tell me and I will stop this at once."

You pull back against his hand, "Oh Benedict, this is what I've fantasized about since that day we all played Pall Mall for the first time."

He remembered that day. It was the day you met Colin, and the last night you slept with Benedict after you nearly moaned out the wrong brother's name in bed.

Benedict dragged you over to the couch head first, your soft grunts delectably filling the space. "Tell her again," Benedict instructed as he finally stopped tugging.

Colin's eyes remained on you as he slowly stood, looming over you. "Get on your knees," he told you. You smirked at the demand, no quiver or ounce of hesitation resonated in his tone. So you obliged, lowering yourself onto your knees with your hands gliding down his strong thighs.

"Hold her hair."

Colin's careful fingers grazed along your cheek, lighting a warm fire on the smooth skin. His touch trailed higher until he replaced Benedict's hand with his own. Rolling the soft strands in between his fingers before abruptly gripping them, roughly tugging.

"Colin!" You whimpered, digging your nails into his thighs, pulling back against him.

Your husband hummed with satisfaction, quickly undoing the buttons of his trousers with his free hand. "Are you going to be a good girl for me? For us?" Colin asked you as he freed his aching cock from the confines of his pants.

"Of course," you whined, "Mr. Bridgerton."

The formality of your words sent a wave of pleasure throughout his body. Dragging you closer to the weeping tip. Letting out a light gasp, your tongue poked out to drag along your lower lip. Slowly, you took in the swollen tip of his cock, your tongue painstakingly circling the slit. Fuck he tasted good, he always did.

The adrenaline was rushing through him. He admitted to himself that this was exciting, you on your knees with your lips around his cock, his hand in your hair. Another pair of eyes watching him fuck your mouth as Benedict once did.

"Take it all the way, princess," Colin moaned, gripping your hair tighter to guide you down his shaft. You fought back the urge to gag as his cock hit the back of your throat. A pitiful groan escaped your throat as you blinked away the warm tears. You didn't want to miss a moment of Colin's pleasure-contorted face, etching it to memory.

You shot your hand out, fingers curling around the top of Benedict's dark blue trousers, pulling him closer. You knew his body well enough you didn't need to see as your hand trailed lower to palm the growing erection. Slowly, stroking up and down, applying light pressure as you stared up at your husband.

"Do you deserve to breathe, love?" he hummed mockingly. Balling the hand that rested on his thigh into a fist, you pounded on the toned muscle in response. Colin pulled you off his cock, strings of saliva coating your throat.

"Fuck!" you mewled, sharply gasping for air. And just as fast as Colin had you off his cock, you were right back on. Hollowing your cheeks as he roughly bobbed your head, your nose gently bumping against his groin. Tears were now freely falling from your eyes, spit cascading from the lips of your mouth and illuminating your skin in the sunlight.

Colin finally released your hair and set your mouth free to breathe. The man relished seeing you like this, needy and desperate for him; your pathetic whimpers were something he didn't know he needed to hear. He bent down and wrapped a hand around your throat, clenching and pulling you up off your knees.

His lips met yours with nothing but sloppy lips and tongue, the taste of his pre cum on his lips. The noise was obscene, your core gushing for him. "Fuck, baby," he moaned against your lips as he pulled back ever so slightly. "I do not believe your mouth has had enough, don't you?"

You followed his eyes to Benedict's flushed face, his jaw visibly clenched. Knitting your eyebrows, you shook your head. "N-No," you whispered.

"Would you like Benedict to fuck your mouth while I have my way with your pretty pussy?" Colin asked as he held your jaw with his fingertips, forcing you to look at your former lover properly. You nodded.

"Are you sure, Col?" Benedict asked, making his way to the arm of the couch.

Colin's hand gathered your dress, two fingers pressing against your dripping core, making you jolt. "I shall take that as a yes." Colin's fingers lingered over your clit, rubbing teasing circles and making you lean closer into him.

His hand found your throat yet again, tight enough you were sure you were going to find bruises there in the morning. Colin threw you onto the blue couch and positioned you so that your back was arching over the arm. Your gaze met Benedict upside down, shooting him a wink and a smug smirk.

You helped Benedict fumble with his clothes, tugging his trousers low to grip his erection. Benedict hissed at the contact and leaned into the touch, your thumb spreading the pre cum around the tip. His soft hands touched your chest, his nimble fingers tracing your collarbone before trailing lower and dipping inside your dress. As soon as he began to roll your hardened nipples in between his fingers a chill ran through you, your hips rolling forward desperately.

Colin grabbed your hips, forcing them back onto the couch and pinning you in place. He ignored your soft whimpers, letting the pads of his thumbs press into the bone. "Oh look at you," he hummed, "would you like me to touch you?"

"Colin, please," you mumbled, trying to roll your hips again in a sad attempt to feel some kind of friction. "Please touch me."

Colin removed his hands and slowly pulled down your panties, tossing them to the side. Lowering himself, he placed loving kisses on your inner thighs, teasing where you wanted him the most. "Deeper," he heard Benedict grunt.

"But Ben," you pouted.

Colin's free hand rose, only to come down roughly onto your sopping cunt. The wet slap echoed throughout the room and it only made Colin want to do it again. So he did again and again until you begged for him to stop. His eyes glanced up, your throat protruding as you took Benedict's cock deeper into your mouth in compliance.

He finally soothed the ache, flattening out his tongue and dragging it slowly along your pussy, letting it pause on your throbbing clit. Your jagged breaths and moaning pleas were music to his ears, letting him wonder what you would do if he just stayed here unmoving on your clit. "You have teased her enough, brother. Let her feel something, get her close," the artist told him from above.

Colin ate you out like a man starved, normally he loved to take his time and spell out entire love letters with his tongue, but he loved seeing you fucked out and desperately grasping for him. He secretly liked this position of power, having you unfold under him. Colin leaned forward, letting you weave his brown locks in between your fingers, guiding him back to your clit.

You released Benedict's erection with a soft pop noise. Out of all the fantasies you've had, this was the best one; Benedict kneading your tits while your husband assaulted your cunt. Four hands dug into your flesh, holding you down while they had their way with you, positively sinful. You sat up slightly, letting your eyes land on Colin. "That feels good," you told him, "fuck, Colin you make me feel so good."

A knot formed in your belly as you feverishly stroked Benedict's cock. "Do you want to cum?" he asked you as he noticed the change in your movements.

You bucked your hips, the pleasure around your clit was reaching its precipice. Colin didn't let up as he sucked the nub into his mouth, letting the tip of his tongue lightly flick it to build your orgasm. "Y-yes!" you shout, "I want to cum. I need to cum."

"Ask. Did you forget the rules, baby? I thought you were a better slut than that," Benedict taunted you, pressing all your buttons.

You sheepishly looked down at Colin. "Can I cum? Please, Col, I need to cum. Can I, my love, please, please," you begged him.

Colin raised a single dark brow as he released your clit from his mouth. You nearly came from the sight of seeing the mix of your fluids and his spit around his lips. They were puffy and slightly parted, his tongue swiping the corner of his mouth, sitting back on his knees. His thighs looked so rideable from that position. "No," he dismissed.

"No?" you gasped.

"No," he repeated darkly, ridding himself of his shirt. "If you are going to cum, you're going to cum around my cock. Do you want me to fuck you, dearest?"

You nodded.

"Use your words, Y/N."

"F-fuck me, Colin. Use me"

Colin smirked and moved forward, lining himself at your entrance. Benedict tilted your chin back, "Open," he commanded. You did as you were told, taking his length back into your mouth, taking your hand, and pumping the base. Benedict threw his head back and did the work, pumping in and out of your mouth.

Colin wrapped your legs around his waist as he slowly entered you. The stretch of his cock was mind-numbing, the slight pain of it made the feeling so much better. It was never intensely painful with the Bridgerton men, especially Colin. He was perfect... like his cock was made for your pussy, he filled you perfectly. "Colin," you moaned against Benedict's erection, the vibrations of your voice made him shudder. "More...please."

Your husband obliged, rocking his hips deeper into you. Grasping at your glistening skin while the other hand found your clit. "You look so pretty like this," he told you.

"Make me cum," Benedict moaned out, "I'm not going to last long."

You hollowed your cheeks, tongue swiping along the underneath of his shaft and along at the thick vein. Letting out a hum, he moved his hands from your chest and let him fall to his sides. Looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, you pulled out the one trick you always did to get him to cum. Benedict was a simple man... words went straight to his dick. Briefly releasing him from your mouth and pouted, fully opening your teary eyes. "Cum for me, Mr. Bridgerton," you whispered, "Cum down my throat."

Benedict gripped your hair and placed his cock back inside your mouth. He let out ragged breaths as he felt his orgasm build, the tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust of his hips. "F-fuck," he cried out with a cracking voice, ropes of warm cum coating the inside of your mouth.

He pulled out and hovered over you, holding onto the arms of the couch for dear life. He started to chuckle and pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts, "That was fun, yeah?" he asked you.

You panted and nodded, "So much."

Benedict stood and stroked your cheek lovingly as a farewell, "You'll be just fine, brother, you learn quickly," he joked as he began gathering his clothes, "Again... mind the maids, we do not need Lady Whistledown or whoever knowing."

Colin chuckled and slowed his pace, feeling his orgasm starting to form. "Thank you, brother. She looks completely fucked out."

You turned your attention to your husband, slumping into the couch. Humming in delight from the release of pressure on your back. "Colin I don't know if I can last much longer," you tell him, reaching up to put your hands on his shoulders. The third-born leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you.

"You will last for as long as I want you to," he whispered in your ear. He slowly started to pull out until only the tip was left inside you. "Don't forget you asked for this," he reminded before slamming into you.

You cried out and clawed at his back, "Fuck Colin!" you yelped, "Do that again... please." His hard thrusts hit your cervix every time, rocking the couch back and forth against the polished wood. You placed your forehead on the top of his tense shoulder, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of him inside you.

"Fuck," he cursed, tightening the grip on your waist. "I-I want you to cum."

"So you can cum," you smirked.

Colin cocked his head and gripped your hair, pulling you back, "Don't start being a brat again, he told me about your antics," he warned. You smirked and lifted your head to place kisses along his soft jawline.

You whined and nuzzled your nose against him, "Make me cum, Colin...please."

Colin started rubbing fast circles around your clit and matched his pace. His pelvis bumping against his thumb harder against your clit. "C-Colin," you panted, your breathing becoming erratic. "S'good. Feels so good, fuck, Colin." your words slur together as the familiar pressure builds, his hips driving forward and back.

"Your pussy is perfect, my love. Cum for me, Y/N, give it to me," he whispered drunkenly in your ear. "Do it, baby."

You let out pathetic whimpers, rolling your hips as your orgasm washes over you. His name falls from your lips along with praises as you fall slack in his arms. "Cum inside me," you tell him against his skin, your hands holding onto his bicep. "Cum in my pussy."

"Shit- oh. Fuck, Y/N. Fuck." Colin's hips stuttered and with a few sloppily thrusts, warm cum coated your insides, filling you. Like you, Colin's body went slack, panting and pressing kisses to your neck.

"Stay for a moment, my love," you told him once you felt him start to pull out. You wanted to enjoy the moment, two spent bodies mingling and wrapped up in each other. He obliged and gently cradled the back of your sore head.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked gently, feeling your heartbeat thump against him.

"I am unharmed," you uttered, feeling your throat becoming sore.

Nearly delirious from the heat, Colin sat back on the opposite end of the couch, opening his arms from you. You huffed at the loss of contact but sat up and smiled at him fondly.

You crawled into his lap, and as you staddled him, Colin dipped his fingers into the sleeves of your dress to help put it back on properly to cover your chest. "I love you," you slurred, a small smile forming on your lips as you wiped away the small beads of sweat on his forehead.

His shaky hands found your hips and gently rubbed in the spots he was tightly gripping moments before. His light-colored eyes examed the red marks caused by his hands and his lips that littered your body, you looked so beautiful covered in them. "I love you too," he hummed, "did I please you in the way you desired?"

There was a slight hesitation in his voice again. Of course, he was talking about Benedict. Letting your fingertips trace his soft jawline, you pulled him into a gentle kiss. "It was everything I wanted and more, you truly are the best husband in the world, Col," you responded sweetly.

"And Benedict?"

You scrunched your nose and swiped your thumb along his lower lip as you pulled back to look at his red face. "Benedict is good in bed." Colin's face fell at your words. "He is also a good bother in law, but it is you, Colin that has my whole heart. No one can love me and please me as you can."

Colin wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you closer to him, his nose burying itself in your neck, the mix of three fragrances filling his nose. "Perhaps, then, I'll please you again," he spoke as he kissed your collar bone, "and again," he kissed the hollow of your throat, "and again."

#colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgrton x you #colin bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton smut

2K notes · View notes

lunavenefica · 2 years

Text

⛤How To Celebrate Samhain⛤

Samhain, Celtic New Year, is the passage, threshold, conclusion and beginning.

It is the darkness from which everything begins, the silence from which the first vibration will arise, that initial void that must be in order for birth to take place.

Precious and necessary time. Time of rest and silent listening.

Threshold of this passage, of the limit between life, death and life, Samhain is an open door between the dimensions of time and existence.

The guardian of this threshold is Hecate, an ancient goddess who holds the keys of this Celebration.

Fairies and spirits are especially active on this night.

It is equally one of the many times to honor and host dead ancestors.

Prayers and food are left on the door steps and altar doors are left open and additional chairs are set outside.

Hearths are clean and home hearths are rekindled by a sacred common bonfire that is lit by rubbing.

The patron God and Goddess of this festival are the Dagda and the Morrigan.

On this day, spirits and fairy creatures invite mortals to spend a year together on the Hill of Delights with them; the druids act in the opposite direction, writing messages for the dead and entrusting them to the fire.

With the food and drinks of the afterlife, wine, beer and mead, they feast for the duration of the festival, which takes place from a minimum of 3 days to a maximum of 6 weeks, including meetings, battles, prophecies, spells and ritual sacrifices, in honor of the god of fertility Dagda and his wife Morrighan.

In the Celtic tale "The Wasting Sickness of Cuchulainn", the feast of Samhain is celebrated for a total of 7 days, of which 3 before and 3 after the party night.

To worthily celebrate the full circle of existence we must recognize the reality of death and physical decline as natural events, not as something to be ignored or hidden.

To these energies we must now pay homage but at the same time we must remember the new life that will come.

The Holly King teaches us that death is an end but also a beginning.

Let us keep in mind the lesson of the ancient Celts and do not indulge in sadness!

⛤Little things to do for Samhain:

Collect acorns, giving an acorn to friends and family as a wish for good luck.

Toast the local orchard with ale and cider in thanks for a copious harvest. Part of the harvest was left on the trees to ask for a good harvest in the coming years.

Apples were also buried to provide food for the spirits waiting to be reborn.

Before pumpkins were introduced, turnips were carved outside and lit with small candles. They could then be placed on the windows or carried in procession around the neighborhood to ward off diabolical intentions.

Scary stories were told throughout the night until the crowing of the cock drove all the fairies and spirits back into their world.

Stones marked with the owners' names were thrown into the fire and recovered the next morning. The state of the stone indicated the person's luck for the coming year.

But you can also:

Invite your friends to dinner, dress up as witches and ghosts, decorate your homes with Halloween pumpkins and celebrate traditional games by trying to grab the sacred apples hanging from a string or floating in a basin with our mouths of water!

You can have fun carving and digging pumpkins and turnips, inserting candles in them to expose them to the windows or balconies of your homes.

Finally, it is a moment in which in order to favor our regeneration, we can ritually abandon all the things of the past that we must or want to leave, abandon (let die) the things that we do not like in our life.

We can then write these things on slips of paper to burn them in our Samhain fire, which can also be a black or otherwise dark colored candle.

You can say a phrase three times like: "The so-and-so thing has come into being, the so-and-so thing has its season, and the so-and-so is going away!" Then, the slip of paper is burned in the flame.

We can then, more simply, give away or burn those objects that we no longer like.

It's time to give up bad habits, to change your life! In fact, before the new growth can begin, the soil must be fertilized with the remains of the previous year's crops and with the waste (if there were no death and decomposition there would be no Life).

An undoubtedly more complex ritual, but one that is worth performing, can be performed in our homes.

At sunset, the eve of Samhain, all the lights in the house go out and you stand in front of a black or dark candle. We hear the old year that is about to die, we remember all the good or bad things that you have experienced, we remember the people dear to you who are no longer there, and when we feel ready we light the candle saying: "I welcome them with this light. spirits of those who left before me. Welcome! ".

Let's take a cup or a glass full of wine and drink some, after having said: "To the dead!", Leaving a few drops.

We can then light a special candle for each of your dead friends or relatives: it can also be white or colored candles.

To light them we use the dark candle, and with the same candle we also light the Halloween pumpkin lanterns, if we have made any.

After doing this we take a plate or a tray where we will have put some bread or sweets (you can use the "sweets of the dead" if there are typical recipes in your area) and we invite invisible friends to share the food with us.

Always leave a few portions.

Then, taking the dark candle, we go to all the rooms and turn on all the lights, maybe just for a few minutes.

Let's go out the front door and throw a coin: it should be silver but a common coin will do anyway.

We say: "Money on the floor, money under the door" and leave the coin on the floor for a month, perhaps sliding it under the doormat. It will bring good luck to our home.

Let us meditate on the meaning of this holiday and leave the door of the house open to let our invisible friends in!

⛤Isidora ⛤

#samhain #halloween #happy halloween #spooky season #celts #celtic wicca #wicca #paganism #pagan wicca #samhain celebration #spells #witch aesthetic

426 notes · View notes

dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 month

Text

Look in art: Sun Yuan & Peng Yu

Sun Yuan [born 1972] and Peng Yu [born 1974] are artists living and working collaboratively in Beijing.

* * * *

Billy Collins, “The Afterlife” →

They’re moving off in all imaginable directions,

each according to his own private belief, and this is the secret that silent Lazarus would not reveal: that everyone is right, as it turns out. you go to the place you always thought you would go, the place you kept lit in an alcove in your head. Some are being shot into a funnel of flashing colors into a zone of light, white as a January sun. Others are standing naked before a forbidding judge who sits with a golden ladder on one side, a coal chute on the other. Some have already joined the celestial choir and are singing as if they have been doing this forever, while the less inventive find themselves stuck in a big air conditioned room full of food and chorus girls. Some are approaching the apartment of the female God, a woman in her forties with short wiry hair and glasses hanging from her neck by a string. With one eye she regards the dead through a hole in her door. There are those who are squeezing into the bodies of animals—eagles and leopards—and one trying on the skin of a monkey like a tight suit, ready to begin another life in a more simple key, while others float off into some benign vagueness, little units of energy heading for the ultimate elsewhere. There are even a few classicists being led to an underworld by a mythological creature with a beard and hooves. He will bring them to the mouth of the furious cave guarded over by Edith Hamilton and her three-headed dog. The rest just lie on their backs in their coffins wishing they could return so they could learn Italian or see the pyramids, or play some golf in a light rain. They wish they could wake in the morning like you and stand at a window examining the winter trees, every branch traced with the ghost writing of snow.

#poem #poetry #angel #fallen angel #the afterlife #billy collins #Sun Yuan #Peng Yu

13 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

Fluff idea: Eddie attempts to roller skate ?

AN | We have Eddie attempting to roller skate and fools in love! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"This is absolutely ridiculous," it was a groan from the boy as he looked up at you from the ground. His plush pink lips were formed into a pout as you tried your best not to laugh at him. You held out your hand to help him up, but he shook his head and waved your hand away, "I can't do this."

“Of course you can,” a soft insistence followed by an even gentler smile as you crouched down so you were at eye-level with him, “it just takes practice and patience.”

“I’ve been doing the one and am running short on the other,” there was a boyish quality to his face as he slowly climbed and stumbled his way to his feet like a baby giraffe. He’d ignored your hand and chose instead to hang onto the nearby pole, “this is cursed! How can you do this so easily? Satan couldn’t do this so easily…you must be Satan! All wrapped up in a pretty, innocent package!”

“You better get on your knees and worship me then,” you teased and his cheeks went from a rosy pink to crimson red, “that’s what you do isn’t it?”

He almost fell again at your little wink as he murmured under his breath, “these things are coming off!”

“Calm down,” you giggled as you bent down to help him untie the laces to the roller skates, “wait - you think I’m pretty?”

“I…” oh shit. Eddie had meant it, he just hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, gaping like a fish out of water. The little smile and those big doe eyes of yours was going to be the death of him, “I meant…ummm. I- ugh-”

“I’m just teasing Eddie,” you winked and loosened the skates on his feet. You hadn’t been teasing, you had wanted to know. That was the curse of being in unrequited love with your best friend; sometimes you couldn’t help but flirt. Then it came back without reciprocity and made you wish the ground would swallow you whole. But that didn’t happen so instead you focused on his feet, “alright, you should be able to step out of them now.”

You held out your arm for him to grasp so he wouldn’t fall, keeping your eyes away from his. You swore those pretty honeyed brown eyes could see right through you and he’d pick up on the fact that something was wrong. And Eddie being wonderful, loving, persistent Eddie, would never let it go.

His heart was raging in his chest, so loud and obvious to him that he was surprised you couldn’t hear it. He was even more surprised it didn’t crack and burst through his ribcage. His hold on your arm was so gentle and tender, his brain going into sensory overload at how impossibly soft your skin felt under his guitar string scarred and calloused fingertips, and it made him want to touch you all over, to map out every single curve and slope of your body.

He reminded himself that he was supposed to step out of the skates and pulled himself together just enough to do so, murmuring a soft thanks.

“I’m just glad I didn’t break an arm,” he joked, trying to force some semblance of normalcy back between the two of you, “couldn’t imagine not being able to shred for weeks.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen,” you promised softly, skating over towards your shoes and tossing his sneakers over to him, “but if you don’t like skating, we don’t have to do it again. I-I dunno, it’s probably silly anyway…I just thought it would be fun to do together.”

His heart constricted at the way sadness colored your features. He hadn’t meant to make you feel like this was a bad idea or that it wasn’t fun - he did have fun, and was enjoying himself. You could have taken him to a lecture on different methods of whittling and he would have had fun. Everything was so much better with you; even on his darkest days your voice or even the smallest of your pretty smiles made everything better.

“I-I had fun,” he insisted, reaching to wrap his hand around your wrist. You’d moved out of his reach and started putting your own shoes back on, “really.”

“‘s okay,” you insisted with a meek little smile, “really Eddie.”

You weren’t convincing him or yourself and immediately his mind went into overdrive. He was going to make you see he was being serious and - if he managed up the courage - that his feelings ran deeper than just friendly. He just had to figure out how, but when Eddie Munson was determined to do something, he did it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next two weeks were torturous…Eddie wasn’t even sure how he’d survived if he was being quite honest. Even since the afternoon of failed roller skating you’d distanced yourself from him, and it just broke his fucking heart. Something had shifted between the two of you and he wasn’t sure how to address it.

He’d trying finding you at work at the coffee shop but you never seemed to be there when he showed up (you were busy hiding in the back, which you were both aware of), when he called you were never able to talk on the phone, when he stopped by your house you weren’t there (you were, he knew from the fact that your car was parked in the driveway), and when he’d see your friends you never happened to be around.

How convenient. But that wasn’t going to stop him. It might have made his job a little harder, but that wasn’t going to deter him. Not when it came to you.

So that’s why, one Friday evening while you were home, missing none other than Eddie Munson while you were moping about, you received a sweet little surprise. You were curled up in bed, nursing a pint of ice cream as you watched some cheesy old romance movie. You weren’t really paying attention, but it was just enough to keep your mind from spiraling too much.

When you heard the soft tapping on your window, you almost threw your spoon across the room in surprise. You clutched your rapidly beating heart as you set the ice cream down and padded over to the window. You were positive it was Steve coming to watch a movie or something, but when you pulled back the curtain your heart almost stopped when you found Eddie looking at you with nervous eyes and a wickedly pretty smile.

“Eddie?” you slowly opened the window and gave him a confused expression, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m here,” he reached behind his back and held out a small fistful of daisies, looking at you with a hopeful expression, “to see you, pretty girl.”

“Eddie,” you took the flowers with a tentative, shaky hand, almost joling when your fingers brushed against his. The small flowers were so pretty and made your heart soften. Eddie Munson had gotten you flowers! He let out a nervous laugh, “what are these for?”

“Daisies are your favorite,” of course he remembered. Eddie Munson remembered almost every little detail about you, “and I…fuck, I’m nervous. But umm…do you remember a few weeks ago when we were at the skate park and you asked if I thought you were pretty?”

“Jesus Eddie, it was just a-a joke,” you tried to play it off but he wasn’t having, “it didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh?” he cocked an eyebrow, “is that why you’ve been avoiding me for the last weeks? Because it meant nothing?”

“I wasn’t,” a weak little that held no weight.

“I’m a lt of things, but I’m not stupid,” he teased, “please…I…I did say that. And I mean it. I think you’re pretty - beautiful. The most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on.”

“Eddie,” you pouted at him, “don’t tease.”

“‘m not,” he reached over and put his hand under your chin tilting your face up so you were looking at him, “never. I…there’s so many things I want to say and I don’t think I’d ever be able to say them right and it might take me years to say them all because the list of reasons why I’m in love with you is crazy long. So I’ll start with yes, I think you’re pretty, beautiful, lovely, sexy, cute - all of it.”

“What did you just say?” you were either losing your mind or…Eddie Munson had really just confessed his love for you.

“Ummm…which part, angel? I’m kind of rambling here and just throwing it all out there.”

“You’re…in love with me?” your voice was barely above a whisper but his whole face lit up and fuck, it was a gorgeous sight.

“Yeah,” he nodded happily, “have been wfor a long time.”

“Oh…I…” words weren’t on your side so instead of saying anything, you leaned in and pressed your lip against his in a soft, saccharine little kiss. He seemed taken aback for a moment but then cupped your cheek tenderly, kissing you more and more until you were dizzied and breathless and smiling at him shyly.

“Can I take this to mean you feel the same way?” he’d ever felt so nervous in his entire life and he prayed that he hadn't just made a huge mistake, “or am I a big fuckin’ fool?”

“You are,” Eddie relaxed; that sweet little smile had made its way back onto his face, “but for a lot of other reasons. But I do feel the same way. I’m in love with you, Eddie Munson.”

“Yeah?” his smile was hopeful and his eyes were practically glittering with excitement. You worried your bottom lip but nodded slowly as you, “wow.”

“Oh Eddie,” it was a wistful little sigh that had him leaning in and stealing a few more soft kisses, “you came here right now for that?”

“And there’s one more thing…”

“Which is?”

“Will you, my angel, light and love of my life, go roller skating with me?” he reached behind his back and held up a pair of roller skates, flourishing them happily. The megawatt smile threatened to break your face as you looked at him with nothing short of reverent adoration.

“But I thought you hated it?” you asked softly but he shook his curly head.

“I hate being terrible at something that should be easy,” he confessed, “but I had a ton of fun with you. Even if you were picking me off the ground more than anything. I kinda…wanted to seem cool but I was anything but.”

“You’re always metal as fuck,” you grinned as he looked at you in surprise.

“Look at you cursing baby, I really am a bad influence on you,” he shot you a wink as your face warmed up, “what do you say? W\ill you teach me how to skate?”

“I dunno,” you teased and his mouth turned up in a small smirk, “you were pretty bad, Mr. Munson. If I agree, what’s in it for me?”

“Our first real date,” he suggested and fuck. You were practically melting into a puddle, “and lots of kisses. And cuddles. Andddddd more. Whatever you want, angel. I’m yours - fuck, I’m all yours. Always have been.”

“Alright,” you pretended to contemplate his offer for a moment, “I’ll do it. Your terms are reasonable.”

“Perfect,” he pressed a big, sloppy kiss to your cheek causing you to giggle, “let’s go!”

“Right now?” he nodded fervently, “it’s almost midnight!”

“No time like the present,” oh yeah. You were so in love with this fool, “it’ll be fun!”

“You are a most ridiculous man,” you padded to your closet to grab your own skates, “but you’re my ridiculous man. Let’s go!”

“There’s my girl,” he held out his hand to you, a touch you happily accepted, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you made a small sound as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, “let’s go, Romeo. You’ve got a lot to learn!”

“Lead the way, Juliet.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

249 notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 26 days

Note

HAIIII ٩(ᐛ)و

platonic head canons with Nina?, like with a GN friend who loves to just go shopping with her or like hang out in parking lots while eating. Maybe exploring weird abandon places!

I LOVE YOUR WRITING ❤️❤️❤️, Theres barely any platonic headcanons so I’m glad you write them!

Thank you! ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

More Platonic headcanons with Nina

Due to queue stuff I might forget to link the other friendship nina post in this post but you should be able to find it in the Masterlist!

EHEHEHEHE nonono because I wish there was more platonic stuff out there, like yeah romance is fun and all but like!! Friendship is cool too !!!!

If you're taking her into your car I hope you're ready to find glitter or even a random accessory a few days later- and whether or not Nina notices shes missing an accessory is up in the air, really it depends

Regardless if you return it shes going to be sooo happy, like squealing and bouncing on the balls of her feet kind of happy

If you let her drive prepare for things to get.. a little reckless.. or at least a little crazy-

Blaring music, windows down, driving a little too fast, its night

Honestly it's a bit of a vibe as long as you guys dont end up getting in trouble or hitting something

When you guys explore abandoned places it's the most unserious stuff- nina WOULD be the type to be like "oh noooo I sure hope theres no big scary killers in here :3", would encourage you to shout dumb stuff down a hallway just to hear the echo

When you two go shopping you always get matching stuff; clothing, bags, plushies, stuff like that! You guys might even go get your hair died together, perhaps you guys get a strip of color added to match each other?

I mention in the other nina post that she makes you friendship bracelets but she'd also make you necklaces and earrings from.. really anything she can get her hands on

Can tab.. things.. usually from energy drinks... small toys (think those tiny squishy animal toys, the tiny plastic babies, worms on a string ect ect), she might even use clothespins! Might paint stuff to make colors pop

Shes choked on her food due to laughing at her own joke, this might be a semi regular occurrence actually

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #creepypasta headcanon #nina the killer x reader #nina the killer headcanons #nina the killer x you #nina the killer imagine

14 notes · View notes

indulgentandidiotic · 1 year

Text

Every Little Thing He Does (Deuce Spade)

Warnings: This was written as a gift to a friend, so it lists the reader's favorite dessert as Tandy Cake. I do not wish to rewrite that part. GN Reader

Deuce Spade loves you wholeheartedly. There are no reservations, no strings, no hidden colors. To you, he gives his whole heart and all the love he’s ever known.

When you struggle in class, he tries to help you understand it. Even when he is having more trouble understanding it than you, he does his best. If you didn’t know any better, you might even think he was studying harder in class just to be able to help you with your own work. –Math may be the bane of his existence, but he’ll pull all-nighters just so he can be able to help you understand that one question!

He takes you on blastcycle rides throughout the city surrounding NRC. Sometimes he even takes you on those fancy and breathtaking biking trails that are way up in the mountains. Deuce tells you these trips are just to show you the pretty scenery, but some small part of him also just likes to feel your body close to him as you hang on for dear life behind him. And if you’re afraid of riding such a fast and wobbly vehicle, don’t you worry! Deuce may or may not have spent a whole month learning a spell to make his blastcycle more stable as he rides slower around the streets and trails.

He gifts you handmade food! :D – He may shed a tear when he cracks eggs for batter, but he’s willing to pull through if it means putting a smile on your face! The other Heartslabyul students look at him weird when he’s sniffling and praying as he cracks eggs in a destroyed kitchen, but he doesn’t care. And you may think he forgot your favorite dessert that you mentioned only once on the first day of school at 8am, but he remembered. A whole Tandy Cake with a gallon of chocolate glaze on top just for you. A little burnt, but made with a ton of love.

He spends every second with you trying to make you happy. You’re such a good friend–hell, maybe he wishes you two were even more than that– and you deserve to be happy. Deuce may not know the best methods to make your heart skip a beat, but he’ll make as many corny jokes as you desire! He’ll fix up any appliances in Ramshackle that are broken, he’ll help you clean your failed potion experiment, and he’ll even buy you your favorite dish from the NRC lunch menu!

His love for you manifests in many ways, but above all, in how he listens to you. He’s truly engaged in every word that falls from your lips. Passionate is his nature, and he pours all of that energy into researching your interests and making conversation with you. Deuce may not be into everything you’re into, but he makes an effort. Besides, seeing the twinkle in your eyes as you gush about this new show you just watched, only to have your smile widen even more when he makes questions and comments, is well worth the hours spent memorizing each character profile and learning the symbolism of the opening theme.

And vice versa, Deuce spills to you about every hobby and love of his. He trusts you fully, and he knows you would never truly make fun of his interests. Because you are you and you are perfect, Deuce does his best to relate his hobbies to you. He knows you may not be interested or knowledgeable about the topic, so he does his best to make it interesting for you.

Sometimes, he’s running during Track or picking up groceries, and Deuce sees something that reminds you of him. It may be a simple thing, like a dandelion or a keychain, but he keeps that trinket safe as possible until he can get it into your hands. It’s sweet how he could be doing almost anything and see or think something that reminds him of you.

It’s easy to see. Deuce is smitten. And you’re the one who’s caught his eye.

#indulgent writing 🍓#deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #previously found on theheavilyinulgentgoat. but no more

79 notes · View notes

esnyshire · 1 year

Text

amateur

summary: 36 y/o lifeguard enjoys some locker room fun with Love a dominant 23 y/o

warning: age gap, foreplay, public sexual conduct, virginal adult

wc: 2.9k

♫ Do You Wanna Touch Me by Joan Jett

It's not a habit of mine to congregate with the neighborhood residents, but I've got the best excuse. Well, for one it's scorching hot, and the only logical thing to do is take a dip in the community pool. Then there's him.

The town's celebrity, we all know the saying. All women want him, all men want to be him. What I want is much simpler. I want to dominate him, own him if you will.

The woman fawn over him, having no idea of the rumors that have spread about him. How he's wet behind the ears, a thirty-three-year-old man who's barely been touched. He's the irresistible man we only dream of.

When he showed up for his shift at the pool, it was hard not to notice him introducing himself. So polite and sweet with the kids, and I couldn't just avoid acknowledging his presence. He never brought anyone home, didn't have friends, and kept to himself. He also never properly introduced himself to his neighbors when he moved in. He was a mystery... and everyone loves a good mystery. Since our community was so small, word got around quickly.

To top it all off, the women of the neighborhood caught wind that he is divorced. Which meant fair game for the bachelorettes. While they saw a man who was open to marriage, I saw a man starting over and needing a break.

I could give that to him.

The women of the county came to the pool every morning, finding a seat with the perfect view of the lifeguard. It was painfully obvious they weren't here to enjoy the amenities.

He sat in his chair, keeping a watchful eye. Barely noticing all the eyes on him. He ignored them. His trunks hug his waist, with a thin white string that hangs over his bulge, covered with orange fabric. He's leaned back, exposing two fern tattoos. His wrist hangs delicately off the armrest, showing off his freshly painted nails.

Yellow and pink.

It suits him. I find him more scrumptious than before when my eyes land on his matching pedicured toes. It's endearing, a new color every week. A man who can keep himself clean and pampered is my favorite kind. They're always willing to get tied up and teased just a little more than the rest.

I feel dirty admiring him, he's only doing his job and I can't find the will to look away. He blows his whistle with force, lips suctioning down on the thick plastic. They're so pink and plump, I fidget in my seat ferociously biting my lip. Trying to find some type of distraction from the throbbing in my lower region.

"He's hotter than the sun, I'm burnin' up." The woman fans herself as she gawks. The group of three burst into a fit of giggles, catching the attention of the man who sat on the lifeguard chair.

"The things I'd let him do to me... are unholy!" Another woman whispers. I knew nothing of them, but their age and that they live a short distance from my house. While they're all in their late forties, I'm barely in my mid twenties. Twenty-three was the new thirty.

I do not sit and talk about what I want to do, I get it. The only way to get things you're interested in is if you do something about it. Besides, listening to them talk about what they wish they could do is boring me to sleep. I set my glasses down, stand to my feet and turn my attention to them. "Ladies, I'd love to stay and listen to you talk about fucking him, but the only problem is you're all full of shit." They gasp at my choice of words. "Do you kiss your husbands with those mouths?" A smile creeps on my face when the group of woman cover their faces with their big hats in shame. When I catch his gaze following me as I walk away, my skin tingles with excitement. His eyes travel down to my legs and up my body to my face. He breaks eye contact immediately when he notices I'm watching.

I make my way to the lifeguard chair and tap his ankle. When he looks down at me his curls encompass his face, and a glop of sunscreen shields his nose.

"Yes?" He hovers over me.

"Would you like to swim? A little race?" I make my voice inviting. A full set of teeth make their debut, along with dimples I had no idea he had. He can't possibly get any more perfect. He nods in approval.

I don't wait for him but continue my way to the pool entrance. The water feels cool and my skin instantly feels relieved from the boiling sun. It's only when he speaks his first full sentence, I register he has an accent. "I'm not permitted to be in the pool on the job." He lets out a nervous laugh.

"There's a first for everything." I smile.

Up to our necks in the water, I grab ahold of him and push him against the wall of the pool. It's obvious he's nervous, from the slight chatter of his teeth to the pink rose of his cheeks. I can't stop the giggles that escape over his behavior. He intensively watches me examine his face.

"You seem nervous sweetness. I thought lifeguards did well under pressure." I try hard to break the ice. He stays quiet and continues to stare. "Do you want to touch?" His gaze frantically switches from my lips to my eyes, like my question interrupted his focus.

I swim around him, waiting for an answer I don't think I'll get. "What's your name?" I lap around him. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing just a stutter comes out. He must have forgotten his name.

"Uh-I-it's Harry."

"Not that you asked Harry," His breathing picks up speed, and I circle back around.

"My name is Amor. But you can call me Love."

His voice is barely audible. "Hello, Love."

My legs grow a mind of their own and wrap around his waist. He goes rigid under my touch when I pull his body into mine. My fingers migrate their way through his scalp, taking a small chunk of his luscious curls and grip harshly by the nape of his neck. My lips graze his ear coaxing a small moan to crawl its way out his throat.

"That won't be the last time I hear my name leave those pretty lips of yours." I take his earlobe in between my teeth and lightly nibble.

"You like when I do this, huh?" I lap my tongue around the shell of his ear. "I'll stop if you'd like." A growl comes from the depth of his gut.

"Mm, don't stop." I smile into his neck. "Please." The words barely leave Harry's mouth and I'm pulling away, losing all warmth I once had. He looks at me stunned and confused.

"We're swimming, remember?" I swim down to the bottom of the pool, pressing my back to the floor. I watch Harry use all his strength to get down to me. He floats over my body, attentively waiting for my next move. I jokingly tug on the strings of his trunks, fingers playing at the hem near his happy trail. Harry makes no moves to stop my advances so I continue. I snake my hand in his pants and a burst of air bubbles in the water.

He watches me, eyes wide with anticipation. Trying so hard to stay under, but alas his face is turning tomato red. I'm grabbing his face I harshly attach our lips, and slowly I blow air into his mouth.

Harry's lips are small and soft like silk, completely encased in mine. My tongue involuntarily darts out of my mouth to taste his bottom lip.

Sunscreen, chlorine, and sunflower seeds.

More air leaves his mouth from the feeling of my tongue. The shock on his face when I back away causes me to release the little bit of air I had left. He frantically pushes himself up to the surface and I follow him closely after.

A cackle leaves my lips as my head breaks the water, he simply smiles at my sudden burst of laughter and shortly joins in.

"You've got an audience." He looks in the direction I was previously sitting in. All eyes are on us, well really on Harry. I now know he is just as clueless as I thought.

"Aye Dios, you are oblivious."

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head in questioning.

"You're the talk of the town." I swipe some hair from his forehead.

If looks could kill I would be dead already. I wave passive-aggressively at them. A chuckle escapes Harry's lips as they awkwardly wave back.

"C'mon let's race," We swim to the end of the pool. "One lap, wall to wall. We meet back here." The smile etched on his face shows off his dimples. I take my index finger and place it in his dimple, Harry playfully swats my hand away.

"Winner gets a reward." He says. "On the count of three."

"One," I say.

"Two." He continues.

"Three."

An easy win if you ask me. I reach the wall first, pushing myself off as hard as my legs can take me. Harry closely follows behind. Halfway through my lap, I begin to panic. Since Harry's arms are longer, that'll give him the advantage. But just when I think I'm going to have to accept failure, my hand touches the wall. My head springs out and I scream in victory.

"I win! You know what that means?" Sulking in his loss he swims to me. There's no reason for him to be sad, although he didn't win, it's him who gets to finish first tonight.

"What?"

"I get my reward," I whisper to him.

"Fine, what is it you want." He fake pouts.

"I get to hear you say my name," I smirk. "over and over and over." He stares at my face like the answer to his prayers is written all over my face.

"Meet me in the locker room so I can get my reward," I make my way out of the pool, "Harry, don't keep me waiting." I sing out.

This is the time when I give him the option to back out, he is way out of his depths. It's written all over his face. I'm banking on him being curious enough to follow through. Everything I've done to get a reaction from him has been successful. Meaning the rumors are true, and that information makes me want him even more. The mental visual of him writhing in pleasure cause of something I did, is what drives me to do things I'd never think of doing with a stranger.

I silently wait for him, I found a locker has his name on it and cute stickers all over. As I examine his locker, the door slowly creaks open. I twist my body and lock eyes with him. My heart thumps heavily in my chest, the amount of courage it took for him to walk in after me.

"I- I don't normally do this." He says timidly.

"Do you want to?" I take his hand and bring him closer to me. "You can always say no." He nods his head quickly, I laugh at his eagerness.

"I have a few questions before we start." My eyes stay trained on his face, trying to see if there's a sign of second thoughts. He waits for my questions expectantly.

"You've been checked recently?" I bring my hands up to his biceps, slowly dragging my fingertips lightly up and down his arms.

"Of course." He's breathless, barely able to get the answer out. I distract him with my fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps.

"You've had a blowjob, right?" He hesitates.

"No," he answers.

"No? Would you like one?" His eyes are locked on mine. It feels like minutes have passed when I finally get a small nod from him. It's not enough.

"I'm gonna need more from you," I smooth my hands down his pecs. "I need to hear 'Yes, Love'."

I pepper kisses all over his chest, suctioning at his wet skin. I take his left nipple in my mouth and place it between my teeth, lightly nibbling. A gruntled moan falls from his lips and his head falls back.

"Yes, Love."

"My beautiful boy, I love when you say my name." I hum, content with his reaction.

I get on my knees and pull on his trunks. His dick is bulging and begging to be freed. I rush to pull the wet fabric from his skin. He twitches when my thumb brushes against his pubic hair. I take him in my hand and slowly start to pump. I watch his head fall forward, mouth open in pleasure. My tongue quickly darts out to lick the pre-cum off his tip. Swirling my tongue around his dick, causes his hands to bunch up at his sides, not knowing what to do with them. A whimper leaves his lips as I plant several kisses along his shaft.

"Hands on your head." I stop pumping to take him all in my mouth, I push his tip to the back of my throat. I swallow harshly, squeezing his already throbbing dick.

Muttering of prayers to God can be heard as I go down on him, his words only fuel me more, I want to be sure he truly enjoys himself. After all, this isn't something he's done before. I want to make it memorable for him.

"Oh god, please... don't stop." He sounds like he's in pain, but the look on his face shows otherwise. Small beads of sweat have formed on his creased forehead, and the heat from outside warms the locker room to a toasty 95°. His skin is sticky and he's selfishly hiding his eyes from me, screwed shut so tightly he may be seeing stars. If he continues biting his bottom lip the way he is, he'll start to draw blood.

Getting to watch him like this has my body growing in a second heartbeat. But it's not about me right now. My hand softly massages his balls, he is enjoying this, and quite frankly so am I. A surge of pride flows through me when his knees buckle. I swallow around him again, trying to take as much of him in my mouth. My nose was only centimeters from his pubic hair.

His eyes flutter open and closed, teasing me with the sight of his beautiful eyes. I take my hand away from his balls and wrap both hands around his thick shaft. Pumping my mouth and suctioning on the tip of his dick. As I simultaneously pleasure him with my mouth and hands, I watch him fight to catch his breath. He looks stunning in his state of pure bliss.

"Love, I'm close." He moans. "Love, please." He begs, I'm not sure for what. I'll get on my knees every night, as long as he keeps saying my name like that.

I pull him closer by his hips and work my mouth around him, slurping up every bit he gives me. A trail of spit drips down my chin as I take him down my throat again. I can't stop the moan that leaves my mouth. His head falls forward as the moan from my pleasure vibrates around his dick.

"Love, Love, Love, Love, Love..." he trails off, serenading me with my name.

His twitching becomes more sloppy in my mouth, pre cum slips from his tip to my tongue. I pull away, gasping for air, and waste no time taking his balls in my mouth. Softly suckling on his sensitive area. I lick my way back up to his tip and take him in my mouth again. I think my cheeks out as a pump my hands at a quicker pace. He glided down my throat, making my eyes water. A grunt leaves his throat, so loud I'm pretty sure the people by the pool heard.

His body is ready to give up, so tired from standing and the constant pleasure I'm causing. He's in a daze, so close to the edge that he's unable to keep himself up. I watch as his knees shake and his eyes fight to stay open. His lips part open and his tongue lap his bottom lip as he smirks, releasing down my throat, coating my walls. A smile adorns his soft pink lips.

He looks freshly mouth fucked.

Harry takes me by surprise when he lifts me off my knees and kisses me aggressively. I relax into the kiss and bask in his softness. I slip my tongue out across his lips and he invites me in, tongues lapping over each other. There's no rush in the kiss, just us enjoying each other.

He breaks the kiss, "The pool is closing soon." He says forlornly. He grabs a clean towel from the bench and wipes it around my mouth.

"I know, you'll have to leave first. Don't want people thinking anything." I finish cleaning my face.

"Can't you wait for me?" He begs.

"Not tonight, I've got some things to handle," I state.

"Come back for me tomorrow." He smirks down at me.

"I only come here because of you, Harry." I quirk my eyebrows at him.

"Oh, is that right?" He kisses my lips one last time and pushes me out the door.

Being so wrapped up in the feeling of his lips, we forgot to leave the locker room separately.

Oh well.

#harry styles #harry styles fan fic #subrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles sub #esnyshire #harry styles fic

43 notes · View notes

kimi-twstheadcanons · 2 years

Text

Savanaclaw on an Amusement Park Date

- Headcanon

Pronouns: They/Them

Note: I will be adding descriptions of outfits in these Headcanons but they are just my opinion, you of course can imagine whatever you please :)

I feel like this man doesn’t like crowded places and loud noise. What made you think he’d like to go to an amusement park? Sure he probably went a few times as a kid, but what makes you think he wants to go now that he’s 20? What could possibly be the reason you want to go anyway?

Oh yeah, because you want to! He also needs to get out in the first place

Leona I feel like would wear a simple dark brown, slightly patterned button up shirt with dark jeans or dress pants, a high ponytail, a watch, and dark brown dress shoes or black sneakers. Maybe a dark color jacket as well? (I honestly can’t tell if he would subconsciously wear something slightly fancy or simply casual…fancy casual?)

All I’m saying is, have fun dragging him around for the first hour. He wouldn’t want to be there at all. Yawning, leaning on tables, not paying attention. Yeah he’d much rather do something with you in a place less... flamboyant

Ah! You get an idea! You drag Leona to one of the games, maybe a sports game or a strength game, games that require aim and strategic thinking like Darts, just to tease him a little. Maybe that’ll get him started

“Wow look at him! I wish you could do that Leona! Hm, nah I don’t think you have the skill to do something like that to win me anything. Let’s just move on.”

His ears perk up. What did you just say? Oh boy, you woke him up now. “Huh?! Oi! Don’t just walk off after sayin’ all that crap! Come on! I’m gonna show you I can win and get you the best prize they got, Herbivore!” Nice job, you got him to do something! Now this is all that’s gonna happen for a while until he catches on

“Oh nice Leona! But I bet you can’t-“

“Oh, shut it, herbivore. I know what you’ve been doing. And ya know, it was pretty smart for a second. But don’t think it’s gonna work from here on out.” He’d say with a smirk

Now that you’ve got him more loose than before he’s more okay with the whole situation a little bit. But that doesn’t mean he won’t complain still. He most likely won’t want to go on rides but I’m sure you can drag him to maybe two or three. If you’re lucky, four

He would absolutely refuse to go on a rollercoaster or any big rides in general. But maybe if you pull your strings right he’d probably consider it

On the terms of food he’d most likely not eat and go home before dinner or eat dinner late by the time you two get back. That or he’d probably wouldn’t care and eat chicken wings or something

Candy is also a no-go. I don’t see him as a person who eats a lot of sweet treats. He may buy you sweets if you want them though, he’s be completely fine with that

I honestly feel like he’d get a big stuffed animal for both him and you or just him. You know, to sleep on and stuff. (He might get a small one for Cheka if he ends up bringing it to the Afterglow Savanna with him. He would do it partly as to not hear Farena talk to him about it and he knew it would make Cheka happy/get Cheka out of him hair)

Try to snap some cute pics of him if you can. They’d be rare if you happen to catch any. Bonus if you are in them too (you beautiful human)

Overall I think it’d either be fun or a bit of a struggle. Depending on his mood of course and the time of day I guess. I don’t think Leona is that bad of a guy. He’s just tough to handle XD

Okay Ruggie would be so fun to hang out with at an amusement park!! Although I feel like he wouldn’t have gone much or sadly at all at an amusement park

I feel like Ruggie has a few clothes that Leona got him so he’d probably wear those instead as to impress you, but really you most likely wouldn’t mind the clothes he’d normally wear. That being said I feel like he’d wear an oversized white shirt tucked into light blue jeans, a light yellow/blue/beige oversized jacket (I can’t decide which color would look best on him), and black sneakers. Maybe some accessories like a simple black bracelet or necklace. Maybe a black bandana or headband.

Like I said Ruggie most likely hasn’t been to an amusement park before. Or if he has it wasn’t for long. Or maybe only once. I feel like Ruggie has gone with some of his old friends from his hometown and/or snuck into one as a child. Sadly they got caught because they weren’t extremely skilled in stealing like they would be now

So going with Ruggie would be a blast! And he gets to actually show off his skills. Albeit skills in the acts of theft but skills nonetheless (I’m not promoting theft I’m just giving Ruggie his credits where it’s due. Don’t steal 👍🏽)

Going with him would be so much fun because he’d not only be okay with every ride but he’s actually the one to run around like an excited little child to go on each ride he could possibly find. “Y/N! Look at that ride! It spins around! OH! Look at that one! It lifts you in the sky! WAIT, LOOK AT THE ROLLERCOASTER! WE HAVE TO GO ON THE ROLLERCOASTER!!” He’d exclaim with so much enthusiasm before grabbing your hand and running to where he wanted to go

With food of course he’d eat anything you two get. Candy or not, he’s eating it. But I can only imagine his face lighting up when he’s eaten something he hasn’t tried before. Him stuffing his cheeks with the said delicious food as you see the life in his eyes start to shine brighter. But because of this I also can’t pick a favorite food for him so let’s just say he loves it all

The games and prizes would be the most fun, because Ruggie would drag you to a game, ask them how to win the best prize they have, and play the game to see if he could actually win it or not. If he was unable to, he’ll play it off and act defeated. Leading the person running the booth to think he’s just like every other customer. You two leave the booth without the prize and he doesn’t seem to care. That is until he reaches into his jacket and pulls out the prize. You question how he was able to steal it and try to tell him to give it back but he cuts you off; “You know I never reveal my tricks. Also, I bet they have a bunch in a box or something somewhere. They won’t miss it.”

You don’t completely approve of his ways but that’s how he grew up to survive. You’ll let it slide this time. But only because it get you plushies and other prizes

Of course your shenanigans won’t last long because Ruggie foiled the wrong worker. He was able to sneak a pretty big prize and as soon as he grabbed it and took it with without the worker realizing it at first he grabbed your hand and speed walked away. He was doing pretty good until the worker yelled at you two, then suddenly Ruggie bolted as fast as he could with you and the big prize in hand. You two were able to sneak and hide your way to the exit and leave without consequences. I’m not sure how you two did it with all the prizes he stole but you did it!

Don’t worry you two were able to take pictures and do all the other fun (couple) experiences before you two left so plenty of memories were kept. But don’t be surprised if there is a sign that said you two are banned from that amusement park for at least a year. You may be, you may not be, who knows

But he had the time of his life with you and don’t get him wrong he took some of the prizes with him as to remember the fun times. But he failed to mention to you that he took at least a bag worth of food as well. Don’t ask me how he was able to sneak it by you, maybe magic or something

But it’s not all for him obviously. He takes it back and give it to some of the kids he lives near. His grandmother to, obviously. As they eat he’d tell them about the amazing date he went on and how he loved the person he went on the date with. Of course he got questions about how it went and he was glad to tell them how fun it was. Of course he’s leaving out the part of how he potentially got you two banned for a while

He probably has gone to an amusement park before with his parents or with his younger siblings. He would love to go with you but just a warning, he would be a little bit overprotective

Jack would wear something like a thick dark grey jacket with furr in the inside, Timberlands-like shoes, Jeans, a grey V-neck, and a grey beanie (bonus if he brings hot cocoa or your favorite beverage when he picks you up)

Going to an amusement park with Jack would be such a nice experience. Somehow, throughout all the chaos and chatter of the park, he made it a calming yet exciting experience

He would hold your hand and as you two talked on your way to rides. He’d willingly let you take pictures of him at any moment just so his mind would know that you have him with you always. He’s willing to bond with you on this day, no matter what it takes

Jack likes rides, he just wouldn’t be up for the rollercoaster first. But he would also feel embarrassed to go on the small rides, so he’d mostly stick to winning you things from games rather than waiting in line for rides that’ll take up most of your time

Speaking of games; his favorite ones that you can see him smile on the most are the ones that show off his strength. As you can imagine you’ll spend some time at the High Striker. The minute he spots that game he’ll drag you to it and tell you to sit tight while you watch him hit the mallet onto the end of the contraption, sending the score high and ringing the bell at the top with the very first strike. You were happy and excited to get the prize, but not the bit of surprised since you know Jack’s strength. The big smile on his face when he hands you the prize is precious

On the topic of food, he wouldn’t eat much of the food they’d have. He’s probably last the whole date with a drink. He’d buy you what’s food, snack, or candy you wanted though. When you try to refuse and pay for it yourself his response is “I’m the one who asked you to spend time with me. It’s only fair I buy you things since it was my idea. Plus it’s just food, I really don’t mind at all.”

Photos and momentous are very welcomed with him but he’d probably be blushing most of the time, either from embarrassment or bashfulness, it depends on the moment. I’m not sure what you two would but but probably some cute keychains or something

About Photos, he would allow them mostly, as long as you’re in them as well. Sometimes you might be able to snap a pic without him looking and get some pretty cute pictures. He’d actually sneak pictures of you, maybe about three. But he would ask how if you looked okay in them so you know he took them. He’d keep them either way just for himself. You make him soft, as much as he refuses to admit it out loud, but he knows it

In general it’s a fun time and he’d be very fun and try his best to loosen up for you to make the experience more comfortable. When he gets home his younger siblings would probably notice the little things he bought and get mad at him for going to the amusement park without them. His parents would be able to feel something changed about their eldest son. Nothing bad, but something new. If he didn’t want to talk about you then they won’t force him, but I feel like he’d throw a compliment about you around them here and there. Jack is a very trustable person, so there’s no doubt that he’s a trustable son. Whoever he’s spending his time with, his parents trust that you must be some kind of angel

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland Leona Kingscholar #twisted wonderland Ruggie Bucchi #twisted wonderland Jack Howl #twst leona #twst ruggie #twst jack #Leona Kingscholar #Ruggie Bucchi #Jack Howl #Savanaclaw #twst disney #twisted wonderland headcanons

94 notes · View notes

the-hinky-panda · 7 months

Text

Strings: Part II

Title: Strings

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Les Packer x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Les had been high school sweethearts. You're going to be a music teacher, he's going to climb the ranks of the SAMDINO MC. The only thing that stands in your way is his mentally unstable brother, Isaac. Things fall apart and fifteen years later, your daughter calls Les for help when you're in a coma and she's trying to figure out how to stay out of foster care. Les is faced with figuring out if you daughter is his or possibly Isaac's. Either way, he can't walk away for a second time from you and your daughter.

TW: This chapter has a mention of rape.

Les Packer is a tough son of a bitch and there is very little that surprises or unnerves him. Seeing you lying in a hospital bed, tubes and IVs and monitors surround you makes his heart race and his palms sweat. The constant beeping of your heartbeat, the whoosh of the ventilator, the ticking of your brain waves are all hopeful signs that you’ll survive this but the constant noise grates at his nerves. Your coloring is off, your eyes closed, your hands are still. He remembers you always being so animated, bright, and full of life. You didn’t stay still for longer than necessary.

You’re almost unrecognizable.

Almost.

Zoey goes through the routine of setting down her backpack in one of the pastel vinyl chairs in the room, opening the blinds, and putting fresh water in a plastic vase of drooping roses. She picks up the dropped petals and drops them into the small trash can in the bathroom. The routine has come so naturally to her, she seems to forget that he’s even in the room at the moment. It’s when she turns from the trash can that she seems to finally notice him.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

Les smooths a hand over the soft leather of his kutte, wishing he could touch you. But it’s been so long, too much damage hangs between the two of you. Damage he had hoped one day to fix but it seems time may have run out. “It’s been sixteen years.”

Your hair has been braided, the thick rope draped over the side of your bruised neck and shoulder. Zoey carefully undoes the plait and gently brushes your hair. There’s no movement from you whatsoever, no flicker of eye movement, tic of your cheek. He steps up to the other side of the bed and slips his hand into yours. His fingertips brush over yours, looking for the familiar callouses he had come to love feeling against his skin. But they’re not there anymore. Another thing lost.

Zoey turns those blue-green eyes towards him, studying his face with a shrewd intelligence, as she rebraids your hair. She almost looks like Isaac in her intensity, her planning and scheming. “She told me my father died before I was born.”

It’s almost a challenge but more of a question. He wonders if she went home last night and recognized her eyes in the mirror, that she saw the similarities that he did. That she has the same questions he does: who is her father? There’s only one person who can answer that and you may never be able to solve that mystery for them.

He understands, with almost a sad resignation, why you would have said that and it only seems to confirm his suspicions. He stays quiet, neither confirming or denying anything. He had been hopeful last night when he had returned home that Zoey had been his own child, born out of passion, love, and joy. Instead, evidence is pointing to his unstable brother and his off the charts intelligence. This struggle brings back another time with stunning clarity when he struggled with the idea of Zoey being his daughter or his niece.

He’d been standing in front of your door for ten minutes, squeezing and twisting the soft stuffed rabbit in his hand. This was the third time he’s ridden down to Santee, a suburb of San Diego that was dilapidated and falling down. He wished you would get a better lock on your door, carry mace or a knife on your person. But he did see how the community treats you and it’s with nothing but kindness.

Especially now that the baby was born.

A little girl with your dark hair and bright blue eyes. She’s beautiful and fierce. And he wants nothing more than to protect you both. But he can’t. That night at the clubhouse, in the middle of the chaos of celebration with a group of Sons from Seattle, proved he couldn’t protect you. That’s why he didn’t blame you for leaving him and San Bernardino. You deserved so much better, as does the little girl you’ve been gifted.

He took an envelope out of his back pocket. It had a note, words filled with regret, bitterness, and a need for forgiveness, that he had spent hours writing. It also had $500 in it, a pitiful amount to help as best he can with this burden you’ve taken on yourself. He wanted you to know he realized just how much he failed you. How he failed your child. How desperate he was to make it up to you both, if it was at all possible. But then he recalls that night with razor sharp clarity: you in the dim light of the clubhouse, holding your ripped blouse closed, a dark navy shirt with bright yellow lemons on it. It’s a sunny, happy shirt that you only wear on special occasions. There was a thin rivulet of blood running from your nose, some of it already smeared as you had tried to wipe it away. Your eyes, dark ringed with smudged mascara, downcast and tear filled as you slipped out the backdoor.

He removed the note from the envelope. He didn’t deserve forgiveness for that. Not yet at least. When he trades in his Sergeant at Arms flash for the Vice President, and then the President’s flash, when he officially takes Isaac’s kutte from him and banishes him for good from the club and San Bernardino, then he can come ask for your forgiveness. Until that happens, he has no right to invade your life. So he set down the stuffed rabbit with the envelope of money in front of your door and left.

“Mr. Packer?”

“Les.” He chuckles. “Well, when CPS comes around, better call me Uncle Les.”

Zoey finishes off your braid and ties the end, a small smile on her face. “Uncle Les. I like that.”

He likes Uncle Les.

He would prefer Dad.

#les packer x you #les packer x reader #les packer soa #les packer mayans #les packer fic #les packer

7 notes · View notes

save-the-spiral · 4 months

Text

Appliqué

(buy me coffee?) (Maliswap AU Masterpost)

Content warnings for depersonalization, derealization, dissociation, minor self harm, memory loss.

You are sitting in a cozy room. You know, intrinsically, that this room is in your flat, your home, in the same way one gets information in dreams, by just somehow knowing.

The walls are a pale grey, framed photographs and a few mementos on shelves to break up the bleak emptiness. You blink at the small wall hanging depicting an animal you can't name the species of, some brown furred thing arched and stylized as if for heraldry.

Two windows also disrupt the monotony of the walls. One looks to a brick wall, and is stuck shut anyway. The glass is warped beyond movement, making the strict lines of mortar waver. The other window has newer glass, still likely older than you, but it distorts less. Sunbeams the color of aged parchment stream into this room in the late afternoon, hours gilded and ephemeral, and you have a vague recollection of someone enthusiastically chirruping and cheering over this phenomenon at some point.

The concept of the memory dissipates like candle smoke.

The texture of worn cotton fabric comes to your attention, fingers absentmindedly skating against the surface of the bed's top quilt. A variety of shades meet your eyes, shaped into something important you can't perceive, sewn together from triangles of fabric.

You lick at your bottom lip in one small motion, trying to think. Your lips are ragged and torn, chapped from the cold and strips of delicate skin ripped by your teeth into strips. Little pains you do to yourself without thinking. Little wounds that aren't fit for a colorful bandage or a kiss to make it better. Little raw patches of skin that will weep but one bead of blood, rolling down skin, fated to be smeared and washed away.

Your teeth rake over the uneven skin, harsher than you usually are as you try to think. Fingers curl clawlike until nails bite into the meat of your palm, all those small delicate muscles aching with the strain.

If only you could just think.

Everything seems to swoop in your vision, blurring.

You know, just as you know this is your room with your windows and your quilt and your body, that you aren't drunk. You aren't sick. You aren't dreaming. You know there is a reason for you to be unable to think.

After all, you've thought perfectly fine for years upon years, as many people do. You think a lot, too much even. And yet now not a single thought is expressing itself, you can't even construct a sentence. Stringing words together to mean something is beyond you. Connecting images and concepts is too much.

All you can do is know, in that dreamlike way. You aren't dreaming, though. Some part of your mind would reject it and you would wake by now if so.

It seems to be late afternoon. Light is streaming into the room from that window. The room is suffused with warmth.

The light is not the color of faded parchment, or butter, or cake batter, or anything else.

You know you cannot see color, but also that at some point you were able to, and chose to give it away. This is what truly jolts you from this listless state.

Ignorance is not bliss, then. I hadn't thought it true, but you wished for it and I am doting in my care. I've taken too much to take the knowledge of your sacrifice as well. When I do it leaves you like this, near catatonia.

I'm sorry it didn't work. I wanted it to. I want some solution where we both are content with our lot, but it seems more and more improbable with every attempt.

Our shared existence isn't a pained one, and doesn't have to be. Unfortunately the circumstance of our joining is of pain, and the knowledge of it a wound that cannot heal.

Never have I been unable to fix my problems, but then again, never have I shared my problems with another. Never have my problems been unsolved by simply taking more.

It's all I know how to do anymore, taking.

I'm not a glutton. I don't think one is a glutton if their very nature is to take. Parasitic is far more apt, as you called me once. You said it the same tone others have used when they named me monster and beast.

Though, I've realized, I have never shared as I have with you. Shared in vessel, and existence. Perhaps that is what wrought our unique agony, but I am reluctant to snuff out your spirit.

You wouldn't exist anymore. Necromancy would not find you, because there would be no you to find, lost to the shadows.

By keeping you, I prove yet again selfish.

It hurts, to have known you so thoroughly. Your existence is defined by neglect. So few of your already few years are what one would call content, even fewer happy.

Admittedly, I don't fully grasp the mortal fixation on happiness, but it was important to you.

Mortality, in essence, renders all actions of mortals inherently of far more import than those of us whom live infinitely. With what limited years, mortals do what they can, forever grasping at the nebulous concepts they create and suffer for, forever reaching for more. The fact that it all ends is what gives their action worth. Every mortal 'forever' is an unfulfilled promise.

And in your ultimately infinitesimal life, you sat in a cramped, drafty set of rooms and relished in the act of existing alone and by your own will. Freedom is another one of those mortal concepts, one I did not appreciate until I myself was bound in my tome.

Pandora's jar and all that, I cannot return to the tome. We tried that already.

The existence of our shared problem does not denote the existence of that problem's solution.

We've tried so many things, little one. I don't know what else can render this existence a kind one, something worthy of calling life.

I think, young one, we are bound by my nature foremost.

I am a selfish thing, hoarding and consuming. But our current circumstance proves I am able to change. After all, you are still here. I can share.

I cannot give back what I have taken, not to whom I took from. Sacrifices and deals willingly committed cannot be reversed.

"So don't give me what was mine." You speak, in a voice I heard eons ago, a deep timbre so unlike the voice you traded to me for more and more.

I'm so unused to you speaking. I suppose our dialogue has been rather one-sided with my musings, after all.

"You do love the sound of your own voice. I can appreciate that, at least, considering it used to be mine." Your voice is wry and rumbling, strumming the cords of a cello left to languish in an orchestra's basement. "Keep what was mine. Gift freely the remnants of those before me."

Yes, the best of them. Gems I kept among my collection, polished and shining, some older than your Spiral. Cherished things, memories and features and skills.

You are barely more than a spirit now, only given the shape of a body because you had one in the shards of a memory you inhabited.

Now you are stitched together with the shade under a wide canopy. Now your skills and knowledge will be hemmed in with the darkness of chasms of the deep, where sunlight will never touch. Now your body will be mended together piecemeal yet whole, as you have not been since the first time you opened my tome.

I will render you whole. Reborn anew, your own body, your own mind, your spirit inside. I will divorce the you from me until we are two, one born from another.

You are quiet, and I am consumed by my own joy- something sweet and bubbling like that memory of champagne I took from you- and I look to you, expectant, hesitant, worrying.

I knew worry before this, but never have I worried before I worried for you.

You stare at me. I weave together the dark matter between stars so I may sew the fabric of your existence into more than aimless spirit inhabiting a body no longer yours.

"Would this not make us parent and child?" You say, hauntingly empty from something I did not take, something taken a long time ago by those who were only supposed to give to you.

No, no we wouldn't be. I can't claim to have created you, or grown you, or raised you. I don't know what this would make us, but never parent and child. I would not do that to you, not after what has already been done to you.

I don't know what we will be, aside from separate entities, now given a chance to exist beyond pain and unending rumination on why.

I'm dreadfully excited, to be honest. We can truly be. I don't know how we will be, but the fact that we will at all is enough to make my hands shake as I twist penumbra into your being.

I've never felt this way before. A kind of fear in the pit of my gut, yet a racing heart, yet a tingling in my fingertips, yet I feel so light as I might float away. Happy and scared and excited and terrified and utterly breathless, even as a being that need not breathe. Perhaps this is what it is to feel alive.

I'm ready.

Are you?

"Yes." you say, your new voice cracking.

It hurts, for just a moment. Spirit and mind bound yet again to body, yet body is of ideas given freely, yet body is a concept that is only rendered into true existence by nature of reconstructing the universe in the moments Bartleby blinks.

You inhale, a ragged gasping thing. Your new chest heaves.

You look upwards, at a face that used to be yours. It moves uncannily, but nonetheless into a smile.

You are alive, and whole, and totally your own.

And yet still you give to me, undeserving that I am.

An embrace is not the sacrifices you have bled before, and I treasure it more than anything.

#wizard101 #writing #maliswap #wiz101 #w101 #i dont care no one reads this series: i like it and it kicks ass

4 notes · View notes