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#he can also be surprised when he finds out i have at least a decent mezzo voice and know several arias 😌
bardengarde · 5 months
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I won't vote in the mash swamp fmk polls bc I'm not strong enough to sentence anyone to death, but I will marry Hawkeye bc even tho I can't fix him I Can and Will take care of him and make sure he has good food until his dying day, and in return all I'll ask for is the occasional hug and compliment
And in the other one voting against marrying Charles is actively voting against my own interests, I could be so rich can u believe it, and it would also be so funny bc he would Hate marrying someone from lower Appalachia >:)
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visionsofmagic · 5 months
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watching them as they train. ⭒ mk1
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—✦requsted by anon.∗ imagine watching liu kang, kenshi, bi han, kuai liang, and tomas working out. you can’t help but ogle them. their muscles straining visibly, they are panting, sweat is rolling off them, THEN feeling them up. how do the guys feel about this?
╰┈➤ tags: spicy, sfw, pet names, sweating, watching, flirting, tattoo, gn!reader, use of y/n, no specific use of gender, boyfriend dynamic, fluff, ‘s all I suppose. ✩ wc: 2.3k ✩ rose’s notes: offf, this one was so spicy to write and I like how I imagined this entirely while reading your request, lol, love ya & thanks for this hot request! hope you all will like, enjoy. [also, changed the aesthetic of requests post, hope this one is prettier. muah!]
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✩ liu kang.
being the god of fire, protector of the earthrealm, and having a decent power in his system, he needs to train his muscles, physical strength, and power as well as he does with his mindset. watching him sitting down on the carpet, eyes closed, hands connected while being inside his mind to power it up as if he’s not the most powerful soul in the entire timeline is the thing you do as a habit now, so, it’s not surprising when you find yourself sitting on one of the benches on the training area as he trains alone – no one else, just you and him.
it’s different than watching his peaceful closed eyes, a little smirk on his face from time to time as he knows you’re there to take a sight of his meditation – because he gladly allows you to. it’s different even within the air – it’s too hot to handle and the wind doesn’t help at all because how he has no particular sleeve on his upper part, wearing just pants as he trains with his sharp movements.
muscles getting tighter, sweat running from his neck to his exposed chest, professionalism is as clear as the sun’s rays and you can’t stop thinking about how easily he will use his skillful hands on your body – he’s making you weak by only training and you know that he acknowledges his effects on you, making his training session sharper and more powerful than it is needed as he turns his back, arms move fast, making his back’s muscles go visible to your eyes.
mouth getting wet on its own, your eyes travel from his sweaty hair to his sharp jaw, arms with visible veins, white tattoos covering his arms and a part of his chest beautifully, sweat flowing from there until they reach his abdomen, making you gulp in excitement.
is it wrong to fantasize about a god? you can’t answer, and you don’t care about it either – well, at least, your instincts don’t care because without calculating its outcomes, your legs move on their own as you get up, slowly approaching him. with each step you can hear his deep breaths, and can see his sweats shine under the light of the sun.
he stops at his movements when he feels you near, chest rising up and down still. standing in front of him with warm breaths hitting his hot chest, you can’t help but touch his arms’ tattoos full of sweat – slowly enough to get a warning from his parted lips. “y/n –“
“yes, my lord?”
you can see his eyes narrowing, mind studying the situation and knowing that you will not stop, not after both of your hands happen to be on his chest, rubbing his muscles from time to time and earning another warning from him as he grips your wrists – fingers still playing with his arm muscles, getting wet, “you should stop, I need to train for one more hour, pretty.”
“train with me,” you say, putting a kiss on his exposed chest before turning over, knowing the god of fire, the man of determination, can’t resist your open invitation, and agreeing.
“you will be the death of me, my love,” he says, picking you up in bridal style as he goes to his room – to train with you of course, much hotter this time.
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✩ kenshi.
to get back his sword from johnny, and be worthy of his clan once again, kenshi tries his best – so hard to accomplish his aims – he needs to be strong, he knows it, and the knowledge pushes him to train over and over again until he can beat everyone who crosses his way and avoiding him to reach his destination.
and there’s one more reason behind it – having you as his audience. his beloved lover who likes to watch him get a good view of his exposed body, half-naked, showing his muscles off even though he will deny it. he can have his orange training clothes to wear but in that way, he won’t be able to see your parted lips that you bite and lick occasionally, eyes shining as they travel on his body shamelessly, hands move rapidly because of not knowing where to put them because your mind is not working entirely when he winks at you whenever he changes the way he trains – legs, arms, back muscles – doesn’t matter as long as you get heat rushing on your body which he knows so well.
“liked what you see, love?” he will ask, smiling down at you when he takes a break, chest rising up and down as he stands on his foot, hovering over you, teasing because it’s so fun to play with your cute mind.
“u-huh,” you say, looking at his chest and waist covered with sweat rather than his eyes directed at you, “like it so much –“ you add, and to his surprise, you put your hands on his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sit on the bench still, and eyes turning up to find him, “are you doing it for me to like it?” you tease back as your hands move from his waist to his abdomen, feeling his six packs tighten under your fingertips. “cute.”
“not as cute as you, prettiest.”
then, he will make sure you put your hands on his body whenever he takes breaks until he is done with training and takes you into his room, admiring your body the way you do to his. after all, he is such a pleaser that he needs to return the favor.
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✩ bi han.
for being the grandmaster of the lin kuei clan, the man who seeks great power, bi han trains a lot – he needs to, he has to.
he never gets exhausted by training with his potent stamina and determination to become the best – the strongest to bring great accomplishments to his clan. also, he never gets tired of having you beside him as he trains after he tells you to watch him closely to see what a true and good training session will look like – well, half truth half lie because it’s not the only reason why he keeps taking you into the area, having you sit down on the carpet, on your knees and watch him – it’s all because of you though, you were the first one who requested to do it and from the way you look at him, his body and mostly muscles with parted pretty lips, he can’t bring himself to train alone when he can your pretty face lighten up with desire of him as he does it.
knowing he does it on purpose, you sit down on the carpet calmly – as much as you can anyway, watching him having only his pants on, ice appearing on his hands until it reaches his elbows, the temperature getting colder but you don’t – it only gets warmer for you when your eyes travel on his torso, chest, shoulders, arms – full of muscles and sweat, getting tighter from time to time with the impact of his hard training. oh, you think, he truly deserves the title of grandmaster.
thighs clenching together, hands getting between your legs, eyes sparkling, and lips getting licked, you know bi han laughs menacingly inside his mind whenever he takes a look at your messy situation – he definitely does it on purpose, doesn’t he?
your question is answered when he cleans his sweat with a towel before sitting in front of you on his knees, hands positioned on his lap, raising an eyebrow he asks, “did you learn anything from my training, y/n?”
nodding, you challenge him by saying, “yeah, I learned how your muscles move so beautifully, sir.”
he chuckles deeply, and letting you do what you wanted to do before, taking you by the wrist, he puts your hand down on his shoulders, “now learn how they feel under your touch, doll. it’s what your hands carve after all.”
instead of saying anything, you use your hand movements as an answer – massaging his rigid muscles on the shoulders, moving from his chest from there until they find his abdomen, full of thick packs, showing his masculinity off so perfectly that you put a kiss on his exposed body, earning a low growl from the man.
“if you keep doing that, I will use your body as my training tool, princess.”
he sounds deep and hot – you’re being a brat. “then, do it.” and he does it in a way you can never imagine before experiencing it.
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✩ kuai liang.
he doesn’t mind having your company when he finds alone time to train his abilities to make them reach the highest point; on the contrary, he finds it amusing how you even bring snacks with you as if his training session is a scene coming out of your favorite show – you admit it though, he’s your favorite show to watch because how it cannot be when he has sightworthy attractive and cute features, especially in the training area in which he has nothing on the half of his body – yes, you see it every day and night yet it’s far more different when it comes to seeing him training with his tools to strength himself up.
watching him jumping, crouching, using his knives with long ropes you happen to have on your wrist a night ago, your hand stop in mid-air, not being able to eat a snack because of how your mouth keeps getting wet – the hotness coming from him and hitting you on the face heavily isn’t related to his ability, no, it’s only coming thanks to being so damn attractive right now; all sweaty, breathing heavily and rapidly, movements perfect, gaze he gives to you breathtaking.
“what is it princess?” he will ask, a knowing smile on his face, taking a bottle of water to drink as he sits down beside you, radiating two different kinds of warmness to your body, “I am the one who trains and you seem to be the one with no steady breath.”
his teasing stops when you can’t help yourself and touch the scorpion tattoo on his thick and big arm, moving from there to his shoulder slowly. chuckling, you say as your hands travel on his wet chest and abdomen playfully, “who has no steady breath now handsome?”
“oh?” he holds your wrist, pulling you closer, hot breath hitting your neck when he puts a kiss on there, “when I am finished with the train, you even won’t be able to have a brain to remember how to breathe, pretty.”
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✩ tomas.
“what now?” he will ask firstly, trying to find a few excuses to tell after you sit on the ground, smiling widely and telling him you want to watch him as he trains – because, ugh, he knows he will get all shy and missing a few steps, or doing his sessions incorrectly with the effects of having your piercing eyes on him, studying him, literally seeing every move and it makes him a bit nervous because being the cute little boyfriend, tomas wants to be as perfect as he can be in front of you – no one else’s, except his brothers.
his desire to impress you in every way, the situation as possible gives him a bit of sadness when he shows some weakness as he does exercises, you behind him, sitting and watching – oh, he sucks, isn’t he – he will think until the moment he realizes that you don’t watch him train – well, you do, but not with the way he excepts.
your eyes scanning his arm muscles, back, thighs, and hands as if he’s a piece of art with thick and sharp features he has – he can see how you bite your lip from time to time, smiling face is long gone, replaced by the expression of passion and tomas can’t decide which one makes him happier; to realize his not-so-perfect training isn’t understood by you or to witness your greedy gazes as you keep your eyes on him, clearly liking what you see.
being addicted to pleasing you, tomas smiles at himself and without hesitation, he takes his tight sleeveless top off of his body, showing his body underneath it – getting proud when you begin to lick your lips, thighs getting clenched with pure instincts.
even at his shiest moment, he teases you by standing between your legs, holding you by the chin, and making you look into his shining eyes with joy, “you’re quite an admirer, my love, aren’t you?” he asks, leaving you dumb for a moment before you come into your senses, smiling as your palms position on his exposed chest, playing.
it’s his turn to be dumb at the sudden action, “after what I am watching is the most beautiful sight in all realms, of course.” your hands are shameless as they flow on his top, admiring it as a true admirer.
“then let me put on a show only for you, my goddess.”
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belphies-cowgirl · 9 months
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little things they do for you
word count: 900+
content warning: mentions of body image (if I am missing anything please let me know and I will add it!)
Lucifer
invites you into his study whenever he gets a new record. he prefers listening to it with you in his arms. also, he'll play the piano for you if you ask him.
will praise you for minor or major accomplishments. even if you don't think something deserves praise he gives it to you anyways. he's so proud of his human. 
wakes you up gently by rubbing your back or your shoulder. sometimes if you've stayed up late studying or working he peppers your face with gentle kisses (he will drag you out of bed lovingly if he needs to)
Mammon
will hype you up and be your partner in crime. will indulge in creating chaos or doing something stupid with you. you have his full support and he'd do anything for you, even if it results in him getting strung up by Lucifer. he'll happily take the blame and punishments for you. 
will let you have control over the radio and heat/ac settings in his car. will let you put your feet up on the dashboard too. he bought a car charger for you in case you forget to bring yours and he'll order for you in the drive-thru (has what you want memorized, but still asks if you want something else) 
helps you with chores. does laundry with you and carries your laundry basket (cleans out the lint trap for you too) does the dishes with you, he washes while you dry or vice versa. moves furniture for you while you vacuum (let him woo you by showing off his strength) want to rearrange your room at 3 am? he'll help you. 
Levi
if you're into cosplay he'll make outfits for you. he'll make sure it fits perfectly and has some wiggle room for comfort.
will let you sit on his lap and help you get through hard levels or help you find new areas and items. will guide your hand with his while doing so and praise you. 
if you're anxious about something he'll try anything to ease some of your anxiety. he'll give your hand reassuring squeezes or talk you through a breathing exercise or simply listen to you talk about what's making you anxious. he'll look up more ways to deal with anxiety and practice them with you. 
Satan
texts you quotes from books or poems that remind him of you or when he wants to be romantic. he sometimes takes inspiration from romance novels when planning a date. also surprises you with flowers for no reason. 
will help you study or write an essay. teaches you how to color code, organize, find proper resources, and reassures you that you're doing a good job. he'll be patient and adapt his techniques to any learning style you prefer. 
will spend hours with you in a bookstore, and carry any books you want to buy. if you like to spend a decent amount of time in certain genre aisles, he'll grab books you can't reach or just be content standing near you while you look through the books. 
Asmo
want an outfit that didn't come in your size or was sold out? he'll somehow get it for you or make one for you. need some alterations done? say less. see something you like but you're low on funds? say less. 
have any pain, discomfort, or trouble relaxing? he's got heating pads, pain relievers, an aroma diffuser, bath salts, anything you can think of for pain relief or relaxation. he also gives really good massages. 
will help you with any insecurities you may have. reassuring words, compliments, and sticky notes on any mirrors to remind you that you're beautiful and are worthy of so much more than you think you deserve. will buy you products that help enhance your natural beauty. he'll also help you take care of yourself with little reminders or help you establish and keep up with a daily routine.
Beel
lets you wear his clothes if you're having one of those days where you just want to hide your body or just want to feel super comfy and smell like him.
he reminds you to eat every day. he understands if it's hard sometimes for you to eat at least 3 meals a day or eat when you're not feeling well. will ask if you'd like some of his food or if he can make you anything. will also let you steal food off his plate. 
will support you and keep you motivated if you want to work out. he'll get on the treadmill next to you or go for a walk with you. anything you want to do he'll do it with you. shares his water bottle with you if yours is empty. will make smoothies, protein shakes, or trail mix with you. he'll encourage body positivity, but won't cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable. 
Belphie
gives you space and understands if you don't want to take a nap with him or cuddle. will offer to let you borrow one of his blankets or pillows to sleep with instead.
will comfort you if you have nightmares or trouble sleeping. don't feel secure after a nightmare? he'll hold you close or act like a weighted blanket for you. 
lets you kick him in your sleep and he'll adapt to any of your sleeping positions. want to sleep like a starfish with one leg up on the wall? that's fine, he'll make room for you and find a different way to cuddle.
✄ ——————————————————————
feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3
please do not use my work as your own! 
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formulaforza · 2 months
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miss americana and the heartbreak prince
—08. It's So Sweet —word count: 5.2k —warnings: none :) love, mackie... um... yeah. yeahhhh. sorry sorry sorry if you still read this fic. surprise I guess! its NOT as dead as you thought it was. See you guys again in four months. hopefully sooner if there is a God.
Charles, teeth dug into his tongue so hard he can taste copper, manages to keep from slipping up for the remainder of his time in Georgia. He swallows it down, chokes on an I love you everytime she looks at him for days that feel like an eternity. 
The flight out to France that marks the end of his stay had spent weeks serving as a dreadful backmarker, but now it was one of solace, saving him from himself. He knows better than to spit out “I love you” two months in. He knows better, but he also knows. Simple as that. He just knows. 
He’s good at keeping it down during phone calls and voice memos and FaceTimes because there’s no fucking way he’s stupid enough to say it over the phone. Whenever he does finally deem the time to be right, it’ll be inches from her face, with all the time in the world ahead of them. Her smile will be there, just waiting to be kissed. 
It definitely will not be while she’s grading papers or reviewing a movie or putting purple refills in her pen, even though he finds himself thinking just how plain and simple he loves her when she’s doing those things. 
– – –
Charles spends the holidays with his family in France, coming pretty much directly from his time with Chris and her family in Georgia. 
They quiz him like there’s no tomorrow about all of it; on Chris, and her family and her city and her life. He thinks he does a half-decent job at keeping his cards close to his chest; hiding his tells and acting completely normal and regular and plain about it all. 
Well. He can be coy and secretive to everyone but his mom. Mother’s always know when their sons are in love, and Pascale has always been particularly apt at seeing straight through her boys and the bullshit they try to feed her. 
He’s helping with dinner dishes—working hard to get those extra points towards being the favorite son this weekend—when she confronts him about it. He knows he’s in trouble. He’s never been able to lie to her in a way that was even sort-of convincing. 
“So, Chris…” she hums, drying three two forks at once with a damp towel. “Is this going to be something?” She asks. Charles shrugs, squeezing more blue dish soap onto the plate in his other hand. “That’s too much,” she remarks. 
He ignores the comment, moves the scrubbing sponge over the plate in small circles. “It’s new, still.”
“But you like her?”
He chuckles. Of course he likes her. He wouldn’t be dating her, traveling to see her, introducing her to his family if he didn’t at least like her. That’d just be cruel. “I like her a lot,” he says. I like her the most, he bites his tongue. He rinses the soap from the plate. 
Pascale nods, soft smile on her lips when she takes the plate from his hand, drying it carefully. “Just like, is that right, Charles?”
He knows what she means, what she’s implying. They both know she’s right, too, but he can’t stand to admit it. He feels like if he does, if he actually speaks the words out loud, there’s no way he’s going to be able to keep it in anymore. It’ll be breaking the seal, and he can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t have it in him yet. “Maman,” he says, and his tone is laced with her answer, soft and sweet and pleading in a desperate way. 
She smiles, sets the plate down onto the counter gently. It still clatters against the marble. “I know,” she hums, hand finding his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
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Charles spends New Year’s Eve in London. He’s with his brothers and his friends and like, all of their girlfriends. He’s been pathetically texting her the entire trip going on about i’ll buy your ticket if you want to come and it would be so much more fun with you here.
What Charles doesn’t know is that Chris is on her way, and that she’d been planning the surprise with Joris for three weeks. After a red eye flight from Atlanta that lands a little before two in the afternoon in London, Joris manages to sneak off from the group to meet her at the hotel and give her a key to his room. She hides out there for most of the afternoon while Joris tries to convince the group to head back to the hotel for a few hours without spoiling the surprise of why they should go back to the hotel in the middle of the day. 
When he finally gets them back to the hotel, he waits fifteen minutes to text her the all clear, to let her know that she can come and execute the surprise. 
It takes her an almost comical amount of time to find his room, considering it’s in the same hallway as everyone else’ rooms, and only ends up being three or four doors down from where she’d started. When she finally finds it, she’s hit with a sudden wave of anxiety. 
What if he doesn’t want me here? She worries. Her hands get clammy and she stands there in front of the door like a complete idiot just waiting for her body to do something, to do anything. Finally, she brings her fist to the door and knocks. 
Voices are muffled and heavy feet shuffle on the other side of the door before finally, after what feels like an eternity of loud bickering from the boys about who’s going to open the door, Chris is face to face with Charles, stupid, toothy grin on her face. “Oh,” he says. 
Behind him, the guys jeer in French, but neither of them are paying any attention. Chris can't stop laughing, standing there, staring at Charles in the doorway. He stares right back, his eyes a window into the gears that turn behind them, processing… processing… processing so incredibly slowly. “Are you gonna hug me, or just stare at me?” She finally asks, and he laughs, snapping into reality, pulling her into a tight hug. 
“What are you doing here?” He questions, pressing a hard kiss into her hair, and then he laughs even harder. “How did you get here?”
– – –
Chris isn’t there for more than a couple days—she has to be back at work as winter break winds to a close, and Charles has training camp in Italy at the end of the week. It’s a quick visit, but they make the most of it, and they do get their new year’s eve kiss. 
It’s been, like, a month and a half since Chris was last in Monaco, but it’s been just two and a half weeks since someone posted a TikTok of Charles and her walking around Monte Carlo together. That means, it’s been two weeks of Chris stumbling upon, and falling down rabbit holes of, Charles’ fan accounts desperately trying to put a face to the back of the head of the girl in the video. 
She’s less interested in are they going to figure out who I am and more interested in are they at least, like, close? The answer is no. No, they are not even kind-of close to connecting Chris with him. It’s all models and friends and people he follows on Instagram and even one ex-girlfriend, but definitely no American kindergarten teachers. 
The fire is only fed, though, when on New Year’s Eve, drunk on Moscow Mules and equipped with the world’s most fashionable LED glasses, Charles is posted showing off the look. Under his arm, equally as drunk off espresso martinis, is Chris, engaged in conversation with Joris beside her. 
It’s been two-thousand twenty-three for fifteen minutes, and Instagram explore pages across the world are already filled with pictures of the side of her head and Charles’ goofy heart-eyed glasses.
Chris is too drunk to know, much less care, but when she does find out about it, she won’t be bothered. She thinks that maybe she never will be a big deal—certainly not as big of one as he seems to think it is. Nothing is going to happen, she tells him so many times it doesn’t even sound like a sentence anymore. Who cares if everyone figures out who I am?
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January isn’t much but settling into a routine. They’re both busy with a million and one different things—just a little peek into any sort of future they hope to have together—and it’s the end of the month before they see each other in person again. 
Every post he makes on social media—every video, photo, story, mention, and repost is run through a microscope, carefully dissected searching for a repeat like and commenter, for an unfamiliar woman’s voice or a hand or a coat or a head of hair. Names fly around in a tornado of guesses, and none of them are correct. 
It’s an easy routine to fall into; scheduled phone calls, FaceTime dates twice a week, and sneakily sent texts in the middle of the workday. Sometimes it feels like they aren’t all that far apart, like he could walk out the front door and get into his car and drive for fifteen minutes and be at her house, eat dinner at the same table, fall asleep at the same time, in the same bed. Other times, they can feel every step of the four-thousand, six-hundred, ninety-five miles that separate them, when it’s all pictures of dinner and goodmorning texts seen three hours later and delayed, laggy FaceTime calls. 
It’s on one of those calls, where her face is frozen mid-conversation, that she’s gushing about how excited she is for some school event at the end of the month, the Art show, she’d called it, and when—after sorting out the camera issue for the time being—he’d asked for clarification on what exactly an Art show is, she’d explained the whole event with a big, excited smile on her face. 
“Oh my gosh!” She’d laughed, pulling her legs underneath her. “Okay, so, it’s the coolest thing. Basically, the art department displays all of the art the students have made so far this year all throughout the year, and the kids get to show it off to all their family. They set up a book fair in the library, and they serve ice-cream in the cafeteria,” she explains, “All the teachers go, and they bring their families, too,” she nods. “It’s really cool. I like to see how proud the kids are of their work.”
He decides then, in that very moment, that he doesn’t want to hear about this in text messages and photos and Facetime calls. He wants to be there—feel her energy, her pride, her smile. It just pours out of his mouth, what if I came? And then, before she can even come up with a response, If that’s okay, obviously. If you even would like, want that, you know. 
She bites down on a smile. “I thought you wanted to keep things quiet?” she chuckles, “be all protective of me and stuff?” 
Charles shrugs. “I don’t think anyone would believe I’m at a primary school’s art-fair in the middle-of-nowhere America.”
“I mean, I don’t care,” she explains, tucking her bangs behind her ears. “But you do. I’d love it if you could be there.”
He smiles. “You’d love it?”
“I would!” She laughs, leaning forward, closer to the camera. “You’d better come for more than just a day though,” she continues, slumping back against the couch behind her, picking at the cuticles on her thumb, raising her brows when she quietly adds: “I can think of lots of other things I’d love to do with you.”
He shakes his head, dimples digging into his cheeks. “You’re a tease, Christyn,” he taunts, and her head shoots up from her cuticle. 
“You have such a dirty mind, Charlie!” she laughs, and his cheeks burn at the nickname, at the accusation. 
“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, and she only laughs harder, smiles bigger. 
“Why?” She teases, crossing her arms over her chest, cocking her head to the side playfully.  “Because it makes you blush?”
– – – 
There’s really only one of Chris’ students that Charles knows by name: Quinn. Or, as Chris usually refers to her, my sweet, sweet, little Quinnie. Quinnie is not at the art show. Chris goes on to explain that she and her family are  never at any of the school events—no open houses, no field trips, no choir recitals or art shows or parent teacher conferences. If it’s not a free event that takes place during school hours, neither Quinn or her siblings will be there, and their Mother will never be there because she’s always at work. 
So, no Quinn to win over. He does, however, meet what may be the cutest kid he’s ever been face-to-face with in Landry, a little girl with two long brown braids and a strawberry patterned dress on. Landry is the first of her students to find their teacher, and completely ignores him to tug Chris’ arm towards the little girl’s artwork hung in the hallway. 
“I’ll be right back,” she says hurriedly, over her shoulder, letting the little girl pull her away. Charles nods and flashes her a quick wink before she’s properly whisked away, leaving him with nothing better to do than shove his hands deep in his pockets and analyze the artwork of primary school students. 
When she finds him again, no Landry in tow, she links her arm through his, leaning her head against his shoulder. “She told me I have a cute boyfriend,” she says.
“No, she did not,” He laughs, but his ears blush pink. 
“She did,” she nods. “She said you were ‘oh my goodness he is soooooo cute,’” Chris repeats, in a sing-songy tone. “I said, ‘I know right! He’s the cutest.’”
“Whatever,” Charles mutters, running his other hand through his hair. “Where’s the ice-cream at, anyway?”
Two styrofoam bowls of vanilla ice-cream slices—one covered in rainbow sprinkles, the other with chocolate syrup and a maraschino cherry—later, and Chris and Charles are sitting at Chris’ desk in her classroom, him in the green spinning chair, her on the desk itself. 
Two boys, who Chris refers to after they leave the room as Nash and Wyatt, are bouncing off the walls with excitement when they turn the corner into Chris’ classroom, their faces lighting up when they find her there. “Miss Elliott!” One of them shouts, half-out of breath. “The book fair has posters of your brother!” He explains. 
“Yeah!” The other chimes in. “I see-ed it when my sister was getting a poster of,” he takes a big breath, “of, uh, a princess poster or something.”
“Yeah, and I get-ted this one!” The first kid adds, unrolling the paper in this hand to reveal a black and white Fortnite poster, demonstrating the dances from the game. “Cool right?” He asks, and Chris nods. 
“So cool!” She says, “where are you going to hang it?” 
Charles leans back in the chair, spinning slightly side to side, eating his ice-cream and just observing the interaction. 
“Um, probably in my bedroom.”
Chris nods again, “perfect place for it,” she agrees. 
– – – 
He’s in Georgia for three days; Friday to Sunday, and spends all of it with Chris, almost entirely at her house. The art show is on Friday night, but he finds himself playing sleepover host with Chris on Saturday when Reid appears with a backpack, a pillow, and a baby blanket Chris tells him not to refer to as a baby blanket. 
Chase is racing in Los Angeles this weekend, and left town on Tuesday, leaving Hannah alone on Mom duty. That would be all fine, if the weekend didn’t fall on the one weekend a month she works. Bill, Cindy, Chris, and Hannah’s mom have been helping to pick up the slack left in Chase’ absence. 
It all comes together to result in him sitting in the middle of the living room, on the floor, surrounded by every blanket and pillow in the entire house on a Saturday night—a four-year-old boy sitting across from him, hanging on his every word, and his girlfriend in the other room making popcorn. 
He’s been tasked with coming up with, and executing the plan for a super, super, cool boy-fort that Auntie Chris can come into, I guess. 
A fort that fits into that description is a lot easier in theory. In Practice, however, he’s faced with the nephew he desperately needs the approval of, and a pile of purple and pink and sparkly and fluffy blankets and pillows. 
It takes all four of the dining table chairs, a curtain rod from the screened-in porch, a fitted sheet, and a box fan, but the fort is quickly commissioned, and gets Reid’s stamp of approval when he moves his pillow, favorite blanket, and definitely not a baby-blanket, baby-blanket into the build. 
Chris is behind them momentarily, knocking on the seat of one of the dining chairs before Reid permits her to enter. She crawls in, laptop and big bowl of popcorn in either hand. Reid is sandwiched between the two of them, Cars blanket covering his little frame, eyes glued to the screen while buttery fingers bury themselves in the popcorn bowl. 
Reid is asleep about five minutes after the popcorn bowl is empty, Chris running her fingers through his short brown hair while soft little snores leave his lips. Her head rests on his pillow, just above his head, and she watches the movie. Charles watches her, arm propped up at the elbow, holding his head up. She’s so soft. So sweet. It ties him up in knots. 
He feels like a child when she catches him staring, her eyes glancing over to him and making unexpected contact. His cheeks burn and his eyes dart away, back to the screen, to the movie. She giggles softly, barely loud enough for him to hear over his sudden mortification.  “Beautiful fort you’ve built here,” she says, and he looks back at her, meets her eyes properly this time. 
“Thank you,” he chuckles. “I’m thinking maybe I will make it my new career after racing.” Charles nods. Chris nods. A smile dances its way across her lips, turning the corners up gently. It makes him smile, too. “Charles Leclerc: Professional fort builder.”
“Oh,” She chuckles. “I can hear it now. You’ll be a household name.”When Charles wakes up, credits are rolling on the laptop screen and Chris’ hand is moving softly over his shoulder. He’s the bridge of his nose and picking the sleep out of his eyes and trying to get his bearings. All he’s sorted out so far is that Chris is here, he’s fucking boiling, and there’s a sleeping kid between them. He squints his eyes—like the dim light from the black credit screen is too bright for him—until she comes into focus. She points to the exit of the fort. “Bed,” she mouths.
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“Well,” Chris shrugs, bringing a forkful of salad to her mouth. “I think you’ve won Reid over.”
Charles laughs on her phone screen. He’s in Italy… or Monaco… or… she’s not really sure, to be honest. It’s hard to keep track sometimes, when he’s always somewhere new. He’s in bed, wherever he is, the lamp from her kitchen casting the only light in his dark room. “Is that right?”
“Oh yeah,” she nods. “I had the pleasure of  reminding him you weren’t here this afternoon. He wasn’t happy with me.” She remembers it well, his declaration that Charles and Me are going to play games today, and remembers better the little, defeated oh, right after she had to remind him Charles had left the day before. 
Charles chuckles, shaking his head and rolling his eyes playfully. “I told him goodbye!”
“I know!” She says, taking another bite, her hand covering her mouth while she talks around the lettuce. “He thought you meant goodbye for the day,” she explains, swallowing. “Not goodbye for a while.”
Charles frowns. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize!” Chris laughs, poking her fork around her bowl. “I love that he likes you so much, it’s adorable,” she hums. “He’s absolutely devastated you won’t be at his birthday party, though.”
Charles scoffs, his mouth dramatically falling open. “No way. You didn't tell me it was his birthday!”
“Because it’s not for like, two weeks!” She defense, laughing. “I wasn’t even thinking about it.”
“When is it?”
She cocks her head to the side, already knowing what he’s about to say, and unscrews the top of her water bottle. “His birthday’s the sixteenth, but the party is the eighteenth.”
“I’ll be there.”
“No you won’t. You have testing.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah,” she insists. “On Monday you have to be in Bahrain.”
“Monday is not Saturday.”
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Chris doesn’t tell anyone outside of Chase and Hannah that Charles is flying in, and they definitely don’t tell Reid about it, just in case it falls through for any of the million reasons it could possibly fall through because of. 
It was a last minute-trip, after all, and it seems like every second of Charles’ time is accounted for right now, so  Chris is prepared at any moment to get a text or a call apologetically explaining that he got pulled into something else. That call never comes, and she picks him up from the airport late Friday night, just in time to bicker in the middle of a liquor store about wine. 
“Absolutely not, baby.” He says, shaking his head, a truly horrified look on his face. 
“You don’t even drink wine!” She insists, holding a three-liter box of Franzia. “This is perfectly fine.”
His eyes go wide, brows raising like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “It’s in a box.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s for a fifth birthday party.”
“It’s not for the five-year-old,” he argues, picking two bottles of overpriced chardonnay from the shelf. “We’ll get these.”
– – – 
Much to the dismay of the other, they show up to the party the next afternoon with one box and one bottle. 
Reid is upstairs playing with some kid that Chris is related to somehow, she’s sure, so their arrival goes unnoticed by the birthday boy. Instead, Chris is heaving the box of wine onto the kitchen island, greeting a visibly stressed Hannah with a hug. Charles follows closely behind, setting his bottle down next to her box, following the hug train to Hannah. 
“Look great, as always, Hannah,” He says, and Hannah laughs. 
“I’m a mess, the house is a mess. Reid,” she looks to Chris, “Lord have mercy on me, your nephew has dressed himself.”
Chris scowls, and then shrugs. Charles laughs. “He can be Chandler’s nephew, today,” she says. 
“He’s still your godson, though,” Hannah reminds. 
“Oh, don’t I know it!”
Charles takes Chris’ coat with his own, hands them both up in the mud room that’s just off the kitchen. He hears Hannah calling for Reid while he does it, telling him to come down and say hello to your auntie. Auntie Chris. He loves the way Reid says it—Annie Chris—or, when he really wants to stir some shit up, which Charles has come to learn is just about all of the time, Reid will call her Miss Elliott. 
Everyone hears him before they see him, little feet making heavy noises as they hurry down the stairs so quickly he might as well have just jumped off the landing and tuck’n’rolled his way into the kitchen. He’s bouncing on his feet, talking to Chris animatedly with his back turned to Charles when he appears in the mud-room doorway. Immediately, Chris is glancing up to him and covering Reid’s eyes with her hands, turning him to face Charles. “I have a surprise for you, Reidy.”
“What?” He squirms. “What is it?”
“More like who is it?” Hannah says, and Reid gasps. 
“Chucky?” He asks, and Chris is grinning at Charles, adjusting her hands over the boy’s eyes so one hand covers them both. With the other hand, she pokes Reid’s side right where he’s ticklish and makes him giggle. 
“Who?” She asks, his belly laugh making her laugh, too. 
“Sharles!” Reid exclaims, breathless from laughing so hard. “Sha-rle,” He laughs out, enunciating the poorly mocked accent.
“Wrong,” Chris says, and then takes her hand off his eyes to reveal Charles. 
Reid is slamming into Charles’ legs before he can even squat down to give the kid a proper hug, settling for just hugging his legs. “You comed!” He cheers. 
“Come on, Mate!” Charles says, ruffling the little boy’s hair. “You didn’t think I would miss such an important birthday?”
Chris watches the whole interaction with a giddy smile on her face. Hannah watches, too, while she stirs a crock pot full of nacho cheese. Reid fills Charles in on everything that’s happened to him since Charles left, and is already asking if Charles wants to go play catch outside with the football he’s gotten from his dad earlier that week, on his actual birthday. When Hannah slides behind Chris, between her body and the cabinets, muttering a quick behind you and grabbing a ladle from a drawer, she gives Chris’ shoulder a soft squeeze. 
– – – 
Chris is MIA when Bill and Cindy turn up, arms full of food and gifts for their only grandchild, but Charles is in the backyard, standing around a smoking fire pit with Chase and Reid and other people he remembers meeting from the wedding, but who’s names he wouldn’t be able to remember if there was a gun held to his temple. 
Bill and Cindy wander out shortly after they arrive, looking for the birthday boy, and Charles handles the introductions all by himself—a handshake to Dad, a compliment to Mom, and hugs for both of them. He knows how to charm. Knows he’s going to be working at it for a while, probably. He’s more than willing to put in the hours. 
“I didn’t know you were comin’, son,” Bill says, and Charles is nodding, hands in his jacket pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Yeah, it was a kind of… last minute choice.”
“Aw,” Cindy hums. “What a sweetheart. How long are you in town for?”
“Just a couple days,” he explains. “Chris is off work this week, but I have to get to Bahrain in a couple days. Get used to the timezone and everything.”
“Ah,” Bill nods. “Season’s starting up again, that right?”
“Eh,” he shrugs. “It never stops, it feels like,” and Bill nods. 
“Don’t I know it, boy.”
“Is Chrissy planning on coming out to any of your races?” Cindy asks, linking her arm through Bill’s, leaning against him around the fire. “I know she told us that y’all are keeping it pretty hush-hush for now.”
“Eventually, I hope she can,” he says. “I don’t want to have her come if she doesn’t feel comfortable.”
Cindy nods, smiling to herself. “Smart answer, honey,” she says, and Bill laughs. “You’re a good egg.” Charles chuckles softly, if only because he doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s been called a lot of things over the years, but good egg might be a new one. 
Just then, Chris is pushing open the sliding door on the back deck, stepping out with her coat on, the hood pulled up over her head, her hands hidden in the sleeves. “Well, speak of the Devil,” Bill says, greeting his daughter with a tight hug. 
“Uh oh,” Chris laughs, following suit with a hug for her mom, too. “Y’all are talking about me?”
He’s come to learn that her accent is never anywhere as strong as it is when she's around family. He’s familiar with the pattern of it, and does the same thing after long breaks away from speaking English or Italian. It takes a while to settle back into translating your thoughts. He thinks it’s probably pretty similar, even if she’s not translating from another language. He thinks it’s cute, when the southern twang gets extra prominent. It’s cute, and it’s sweet, and she sounds like a movie character sometimes. 
She slots into her comfortable position at Charles’ side, and his arm is tossing itself over her shoulder before he even realizes it’s happening. It’s habit, almost, to keep her close. “Always,” he says. 
– – –
They’re cute and annoyingly couple-ey all night. He doesn’t care if she’s related to or friends with almost everyone here, he’s never not amazed at just how easily she can find home in any conversation. Sometimes he wonders if he looks as awestruck about it as he feels, watching her put on this masterclass with everyone she talks to—from passing, brief conversations about how good Hannah’s food is and how old Reid is getting, to the long, sit-down chats about work and her life and their lives. It’s so crystal clear that she makes everyone feel important—the most important person in the room—and he;s even starting to remember names. 
There’s a lot of names to remember. 
There’s nobody that feels quite as important to Chris as Charles does, though, he’s sure of it. In fact, he’s not sure there’s another person on Earth that could manage to make a social event into something so… recharging for him. She just radiates energy, truly. It’s in the atmosphere, just being in her proximity, just having an arm around her or their fingers intertwined or the smell of her perfume on his clothes is enough. 
He loves her so horribly that he’s almost sick with it. He’s biting his tongue all night. Hell, he’s even trying to talk himself out of the now months old revelation. 
Like, she drinks wine from a fucking box. A box. Of wine. And she sees absolutely no problem with it. She wants to drag him around to every person, to engage in every conversation. She changed her perfume or her shampoo or her laundry detergent or something, because she smells different than the last time he was with her. She drives like an elderly woman—Jesus fucking Christ, she takes the speed limit so seriously it’s hard to sit in the passenger seat and let it happen. She cried three times on the way from Atlanta. Three times, because she saw some roadkill that wasn't even identifiable, and couldn’t stop thinking about it.  She’s covered in glitter, like, all the time. And so is her stuff. It’s on her face and her hands and her clothes and every surface of her house. Glitter and spelling tests and like, six variations of the same travel coffee mug. She listens to country music as if it’s the only genre of music that exists, and she listens to it all the time. He doesn’t love her. He doesn’t. If he did, he wouldn't have been able to keep it in for so long. 
He doesn’t love her, and then she laughs and he can feel it in his fucking gut, feels the urge to laugh even when he doesn’t get the joke, even when he misses entirely what is making her so happy. He wants to laugh because she’s laughing and her laugh makes the world a better place and he loves her so bad it hurts.
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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months
Text
How they react to you telling them you're pregnant
Obligatory reader is afab but like most of my posts they're gn/gendered pronouns aren't used
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Slenderman;
Cue the confusion
Pregnant?
Surprised more than anything, he didnt think that he could get you pregnant considering you're both different species
And also he didnt think he was fertile; at least not in the normal sexual reproduction way
Kinda just
Accepts it
Now do I think he would be a good dad?
Maybe? He wouldn't be horrible or absent, but some human things are still foreign to him, including raising a child.. so hes probably going to need a decent amount of guidance
I feel like he'd also be a helicopter parent? He already watches you like a hawk, he'd probably start doing the same with his kid as they get older
"Hey (kid name) who's that tall white boy following you??" "Oh that's my dad"/j
Becomes more protective of you during the pregnancy and the weeks after
Takes it in stride tbh
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Splendorman;
Pause
Before you start to worry he scoops you up
Also thought it wasnt possible, but is hyped when he finds out the news
He WILL pamper you... may also dip into overbearing territory, though
He just doesnt want you or the baby to get hurt
He says goodnight to the bump later on in the pregnancy tbh
Oh you know hes gonna be decorating their room and giving them loads of toys
Would be a good father but may dip into unhealthy habits
This dude struggles with toxic positivity imo, so that's definitely something that's gonna need to be addressed
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Laughing Jack;
Okay obviously ALL of them are probably going to be sat down and told the news, but Jack is gonna need the most talking to given that he probably doesn't grasp the gravity of it
He KNOWS what pregnancy is, he KNOWS what a baby is; but he doesn't know the intricacies of pregnancy if that makes sense
Like he doesnt know about the soreness, or cravings, or how fragile those tiny human beings actually are. Dude already struggles with being gentle with adults
So it's going to require a long and in depth talk about everything that's going to happen if you guys decide to keep the kid
Reaction wise, he takes it seriously. Kind of uncanny compared to his usual silly demeanor
Again, due to him being a lil dumb hes almost under reacting
As a parent I think...
Okay he'd probably kinda suck
He would love the kid but he would be so so so irresponsible I'm so sorry
Gives the kid candy for meals (bro cant cook)
Get that man into some parenting classes PLEASE
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Eyeless Jack;
Another "I'm surprised because I deadass thought I was infertile" one, given my whole lore/Hc for EJ
The most worried out of them all
"What if they're like me and are cursed? What if they hate me? What if they grow to hate me? What if-"
He baby proofs his cabin... before insisting that the baby stays at your place primarily (if you haven't moved in with him) because he's scared of his whole... eating people thing
Please give him loads and loads of reassurance, hes gonna need it
He'll work hard to be the best father he can be, though!
He takes the kid out for walks in the woods, teaches them different plants and bugs and tells them which are dangerous
"Oh I don't want to hold them, what if I hurt em?" *falls asleep while holding his baby after reading them a story*
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Masky;
You gotta baby proof him and the house im sorry, hes feral
Another "you're gonna have to sit him down and lay down the rules" type deal
Hes already mellowed out around you but he needs to mellow out a touch more for an infant
Hard to gauge his reaction but he seems.... excited? Hard to tell when hes sitting still and wearing a mask
When the baby comes he, like slenderman, also watches them like a hawk
You will walk in on him sitting over their crib at 3am/hj
Surprisingly gentle when it comes to handling the kid, just casually walks around with them and shit
Great for looking after the kid during the night while you rest
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Hoodie;
V similar to Masky but he's already naturally calm
Putting this here now before I forget but he would take his mask off to make faces at the baby to try to make them laugh
Mf doesn't take his mask off for you though ☝️🙄/hj
Surprisingly good at calming down screaming infants for some reason
Similar reaction as Masky; hard to read but way easy to guess its positive since he lightly boinks where his mouth would be under his mask to your cheek while papping your stomach
Hes a lil silly
But hes got the spirit
Good dad, me thinks
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Note
Zoro x Fem Reader fluff and NSFW! S/O is a sweet and gentle lover, being like the opposite of Zoro. She always takes care of Zoro, like giving him blankets during naps, water and towels and massages during his training, etc. But Zoro hasn’t done much for her as a lover, which everyone but S/O reminds him. Zoro tries making it up by taking her to a flower field date. S/O is so happy, playing with the flowers that Zoro couldn’t help but fall in love with her innocence and kindness even more.
S;DUFDFVHJDOI;FDS;SDJF;OS THE WAY I SQUAWKED AND FOLDED FOR THIS REQUEST because I relate to it sooooo much oh my goodness gracious. I was so excited to write this and kept thinking about how to approach it, (which you can tell from how long it is... I got SUPER carried away lol)!!! Thank you SO MUCH for this request!!! I also used post timeskip Zoro because he seems more serious and stoic, and just imagining him being soft and blushing and in love just sidfjduhgsdijfo;i ugh okay? I headcanon that Sanji hides the sake and beer from Zoro just because he can. I don't know yet if it ever actually happens, but I would not be surprised.
🍶 Wordcount: 6.2k (DO NOT EXPECT THIS NORMALLY PEOPLE, I JUST HAD FUN WITH THIS AND WENT OVERBOARD BY A LOT)
Warnings: light angst, kinda cheesy romance (leave me alone I'm a romantic), kinda ooc fluffy soft!Zoro (because I'm a SLUT for soft zoro), SMUT - (oral/fingering, f!receiving, penis in vagina sex, squirting, mild choking m!receiving, f!reader getting railed by Zoro)
There is a section written in green from Zoro's POV.
Okay I'm literally so proud of this piece. That's it. Thank you, and enjoy.
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ALL CREDIT TO ARTIST BUT I CAN'T FIND THEM but it's the perfect image for how I describe Zoro looking at you adoringly :3
-----
"All I'm saying is that if I had a lover like her, I'd give her everything and anything" Sanji quipped from his place in front of the stove.
"I didn't ask you, ero-cook. I love her and she knows it. That's enough. Stay out of my relationship" Zoro snapped from the pantry, searching for some alcohol.
"You should say 'our' relationship, idiot marimo. It's you and her together."
Zoro slammed shut the pantry, rattling the wall. The cook hid all the alcohol from him again.
"I don't want advice from a love sick fool who can't get a woman to save his life. At least I have a girlfriend" he spat, stalking towards the door.
"Yet you're arguing with me, trying to find alcohol to go drink alone instead of spending time with her. After everything she does for you." Zoro spun around angrily, hand on one of his swords, but was interrupted by the door to the eating area opening. You stood in the doorway hesitantly, immediately sensing the tension in the air, and the way it thickened at your presence.
"Oh. Uh. I stashed an extra bottle of alcohol away for you for when San-... uh... you couldn't find any... so... here" you held out the bottle. It was a bottle of decent sake you had swiped and stashed last week for the inevitable time the cook hid all the alcohol from your boyfriend, which you had seen the blond doing earlier.
"Thanks" Zoro muttered as he took it from your hand. He walked out the door, leaving you with the cook. You didn't miss the glower the cook sent towards the swordsman's back at his dismissive attitude, but you ignored it. You walked into the kitchen, distracting Sanji from his annoyance with a sweet request for two cups of water. He quickly got them for you with an exaggerated flourish, causing you to giggle. At the innocent sound, his smile turned sad before he became serious.
"You do too much for him and don't get enough in return" he muttered. Your heart clenched.
"He loves me in different ways, away from where people can see. Unfortunately, it's hard to do that on a ship" you said, shrugging off the comment. You knew it was true. You knew he loved you, he just... had lofty goals. It's hard to find time for romance and giving your lover attention when you're training constantly to be the worlds greatest swordsman, and first mate to the future pirate king. You knew that going into the relationship, and you were content with giving him attention so he knew he was loved.
"Besides, if he knows I love him, that's all that matters to me" you said.
"He doesn't even take you on dates when we go to islands" Sanji said quietly.
"It's pretty hard to do when he has the directional sense of a rock, and he somehow usually manages to get into some sort of trouble" you dismissed easily. The cook sighed, turning back to the stove.
"As long as you're happy, but I'd be glad to kick his ass for you if you ever feels like he needs it" he offered. You snorted, grabbing the waters as you made your way towards the door.
"You'd do it if he even looked at you wrong, let alone pissed me off" you teased, opening the door. Sanji waved goodbye with a sweet smile, knowing what you said was one hundred percent true. You rolled your eyes, making your way to the deck towards Zoro. It was evening, the sea breeze sweeping away the heat of the day, cooling the air to a comfortable temperature. The sun was starting to set, the sky turning gold with strokes of pink and red towards the horizon.
Your boyfriend was enjoying the last vestiges of sunlight on the deck, sprawled on his side with his head propped in his hand. You stood and admired his features for a second. His short green hair seemed more vibrant in this light, and his eyes closed gently, the scar over his eye shining with the different texture. The light hit his exposed chest just right, highlighting and shadowing his muscles that he worked so hard for. He brought the bottle of sake up to his lips and took a swig. You watched as his chiseled jaw moved as his throat bobbed. His earrings glinted in the golden light at the new angle. You swallowed, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach.
"You just gonna stand there?" he asked, lowering the bottle from his lips. A drop made its way down his chin but he wiped it off carelessly with the back of his hand. You cleared your throat, flustered that you had been caught staring. You made your way to sit so he could see you with his good eye. You silently held out the glass of water, glancing at him quickly.
"You good? You look like your blushing" he said, letting his fingers linger over yours as he accepted the glass of water. One of his ways of showing innocent affection.
"Yeah... You just... You're so beautiful" you breathed honestly. Zoro blushed slightly and grunted, looking away from you. You giggled quietly, able to read his reactions like a book. He was surprised and flustered.
"Not my choice of description" he mumbled. You decided to tease him further.
"No? I could say you're pretty, or stunning. I could say you're handsome, sexy, strong, amazing-"
"Shut up!" he swatted your thigh lightly. Now he was beyond flustered, blushing all the way to his ears. You dissolved into laughter, falling onto your back as you clutched your stomach. You missed his gaze, staring openly at you with awe, but he controlled his expression quickly before someone saw him. Your laughter eventually faded, and you eased yourself up to lean on your elbows to watch the sunset. Streaks of purples, oranges, pinks, and reds painted the sky.
"Tomorrow we should arrive at a spring island" you said quietly. Zoro grunted quietly. To anyone else, it sounded like a simple acknowledgement that you spoke, but you heard his silent invitation to continue.
"It's famous for the flower fields that grow wild there" you said, awe and excitement coloring your voice. You didn't notice his curious glance towards you.
"Yeah?" he prodded. You sat up fully, hugging your knees to your chest, your expression dreamy as you let the visual of the current sunset coloring imaginary wildflower fields form in your mind.
"Mmmhmm. I told Chopper I'd go with him" you said quietly.
An idea bloomed in the swordsman's mind, but he kept his expression neutral.
"For medicinal herbs?" he asked. You nodded.
"I'm excited" you said dreamily. Zoro hummed, a plan forming behind his neutral face. He'd need to ask some favors, which he hated, but to see you smile it was worth it.
----
The next morning you woke up with more energy than usual, the excitement to visit the wildflower fields evident in your actions. All morning, you asked Robin about her flowers, and she lent you a book about the flowers you were likely to see on this island. You devoured the information until Luffy exclaimed loudly that he could see land. You worked off your extra energy running wild around the ship with him and Chopper, feeding each other's childish excitement. You didn't see Zoro anywhere, but assumed he was training in the crows nest.
The ship finally docked, and you waited impatiently for Chopper to finish gathering what he needed before the two of you leapt off the ship.
"Oi! Wait up! I'm coming with you two" your boyfriend called out, sounding exasperated as he slung a bag around him. Your happy surprise showed in a small squeal and a jump into his arms once he caught up. A wide grin donned your lips and you laughed as he tsk'd at your behavior and pushed you back by your forehead.
"Did you shower?" you asked, surprised. Normally it took you promising alone time or a bottle of sake to get him to shower regularly.
"So what if I did?"
You shrugged, grabbing his hand as you turned away.
"C'mon! Let's go! And don't let go of my hand. I don't want you getting lost"
You lead the way through the town, the three of you stopping to buy some drinks before continuing. Chopper got chocolate milk, Zoro got sake, and you tried a popular local flower tea. You asked the shopkeeper directions to the flower fields to make sure you were going the right way. He nodded, but leaned forward, indicating at your hand in Zoro's.
"The fields are a tourist attraction, but there's a place that's out of the way and much prettier, if you're looking for a more secluded area." You opened your mouth to say it didn't matter, but Zoro leaned forward, intrigued. You realized he probably wanted to take a nap in the quiet area, so you nodded and asked for directions. You thanked the shopkeeper with a few coins as a tip for his information, and set off with Chopper and Zoro in tow.
"You didn't have to give him money just for telling us that" Zoro griped. You rolled your eyes.
"You just say that 'cause you're in huge debt to Nami" you teased. He bristled slightly.
"He offered up the information for free!"
You shrugged.
"You repay kindness with kindness. That comes in different forms for different people"
Zoro grunted, having no reply to that. Chopper spoke up.
"Ooo you're so nice! But the directions the man gave you leads to a different area where the herbs I need don't grow. Is it okay if we split up? I'll be fine by myself, and you can go enjoy the beautiful area."
You hesitated. You told Chopper you'd help him find herbs, but the offer to spend alone time with Zoro without other people disturbing you in a flower field sounded too tempting. Your boyfriend squeezed your hand.
"He'll be fine. Let's go. You're excited right?"
You exhaled, and ran your free hand through your hair before smiling down at Chopper.
"You sure?" He nodded determinedly at your question, then ran off with a quick goodbye and a promise to be safe. You watched him for a bit, but turned around when Zoro tugged on your hand.
"C'mon. Lets go" he urged. He began leading you, but you quickly stopped him, a smile tugging on your lips.
"That's the way we came from, babe. This way."
He huffed in embarrassment both at his mistake and your pet name, but let you lead him. You reached a fork in the path just outside the town. One sign indicated the path lead to the flower fields, but you headed down the unmarked path, following the shopkeeper's directions.
"Oi. The sign said the other way. You sure we're on the right path?" your boyfriend asked. You glanced at him with a single raised brow and a smirk.
"I love you so much Zoro, but I'm surprised you even realized the sign was referring to the other path"
He blushed and spluttered, indignant at your quip and flustered by your easy admission of your feelings towards him. You cut him off with a soft laugh.
"Hurry up! I can smell the flowers already!" You broke into a quick jog. The swordsman easily kept pace with you, staying by your side even as you let go of his hand. You focused on the path ahead of you, missing his quick, adoring glance at you. There was nobody around, after all.
A few minutes later, you rounded a corner of a rock face, and your view exploded in vibrant colors. Shades of purple, pink, yellow, orange, green, and blue dotted the field sprawled in front of you. You gasped audibly, in awe of the view in front of you. The air was thick with the sweet scent of flowers, the breeze wafting their perfume around you as it brushed the petals and bowed the thin stems in waves. A lone apple tree stood in the middle of the field, matching the rustling of the field as the breeze threaded through it's boughs. The field led to a cliff, which looked out over a hidden cove. The beach below was white sand and turquoise waters.
You stepped forward hesitantly, unwilling to crush any of the beautiful plants. A warm hand landed on your lower back, nudging you forward. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the flowers.
~~~~~~~
He wished you could see yourself from his point of view. His life had been dark and full of violence, but you brought innocence and raw love to his life. You were the light to his shadows, the food for his soul, the gentleness to his calloused fighting.
Your awe at the flower field in front of the two of you froze your entire body, your hand curled in a gentle fist against your chest, over your heart as if checking you weren't dead. You were hardly breathing, as if unwilling to disturb the beauty in front of you.
Tears shone in your eyes, overwhelmed by the excitement and unfiltered, pure awe of the beauty in front of you. You took a small step forward but stopped. He placed a gentle hand on your lower back, nudging you slightly forward. You deserved to experience the beauty he could never bring you as a person.
You deserved everything his crewmates said you did. The open affection, the love, gentle smiles, and innocent caresses, returning the small gestures and kindness you unthinkingly did for him. You massaged his muscles when he over trained, patched up his minor injuries after a fight, and brought him water and fresh towels when he was working out. He wanted to give back. To run a finger over your cheek before kissing you gently, to play with your hair, to cuddle you when you frowned.
Yet, selfishly, he couldn't bring himself to be seen doing it. He couldn't let anyone know you were his weakness, that he loved you enough to give up his dream of being the worlds greatest swordsman for you. It wasn't that he didn't trust his crew, he did. It just terrified him knowing how deeply you affected him- how much he loved you, and how much he would sacrifice for you. He would even destroy the very sun if you asked.
He let his gaze wander over your face. Innocent and pure adoration, the tears in your eyes at the view that surpassed your expectations. You looked beautiful, but he couldn't bring himself to say it because he was falling even harder for you. He nudged you forward gently again with the hand on your back.
She deserves everything.
"Go on. You deserve it" he said quietly.
He met your gaze, letting himself show his affection for you, removing the wall he put up to keep his expression neutral. Fresh tears gathered in your eyes, and he chuckled at your innocence.
"Get out there or I'll carry you" he teased. With a nod, you shuffled forward, and crouched to gently caress the delicate petals of a flower. He could hardly tell them apart, but you had been studying them all morning. You sniffed the flower, and you gazed at the field before suddenly taking off. Your unabashed, pure and kind laughter carried over the field, making him smile at your innocent joy and excitement. You opened your arms as you spun, as if to hug the breeze that tangled it's fingers through your shining hair. Your face turned towards the sun as you breathed deeply, a smile never leaving your face.
He couldn't help the answering smile that graced his own lips. Your beauty and joy sent his heart fluttering as he made his way to the lone apple tree to set up the meal he had packed the two of you, courtesy his begrudging ask of Sanji. He wanted the best for you, and even he had to admit the cook was good at his job.
He was supposed to stay and watch the ship today, but he asked Franky to instead. The damn cyborg had even started bawling when he explained begrudgingly that he wanted to take you on a special date. He considered asking Brook to be nearby to play some of your favorite songs, but he really wanted it to be the two of you during this date, so he asked him to do it tonight, back on the ship. He asked Robin and Usopp to work together to buy some seeds and plant you some flowers from the area in a small planter, so you could always have a little bit of this spring island with you. He even asked Chopper to make an excuse to find the herbs somewhere else. It was lucky that the shopkeeper guided the two of you away from where the reindeer actually needed to go.
He flicked open the blanket, spreading it on the ground beneath the tree. He saw a few ripe apples in the branches, and picked them easily. He heard your footsteps approaching, but didn't look back, focused on reaching the last apple, just out of his reach.
~~~~~~
"What's all this?" you asked breathlessly. Zoro didn't look back. You slid off your shoes before stepping fully on the spread blanket, placing them neatly next to Zoro's boots.
"'s for you" he said before jumping a little to grasp the apple he was trying to pick. As he pulled it from the tree, the branch shook, raining petals and leaves on the two of you. You giggled. He turned around, gaze landing on you, and froze. His eyes were wide and his mouth parted. A blush was coloring his cheeks a red under his tanned skin. He had only reacted like this the first time he saw you naked in his bed. You noticed he had a leaf stuck in his hair, and you chuckled as you reached out to pluck it from his head. He started a little, and pulled you close with an arm around your waist.
"What's wrong?" you tilted your head.
"You..." he trailed off, plucking a light pink petal from your hair.
"Me?"
"God I love you so much" he breathed. Your eyes widened, and you gasped lightly. It was kind of rare for him to say it, preferring to show you. He took a deep breath, exhaling as he cradled your cheeks in his hands. His thumbs drew matching gentle circles on your cheeks, and he lowered his forehead to yours, eyes closed. One of your hands came up to cradle his, the other resting on his hip.
"I know I should be more open about it. I'm a selfish bastard because I just can't let people know that you're my weakness. I can't let them know that I'd give up my dreams, to be the best, for you. Because when I'm with you... nothing else matters. I'd tear down the sun and the moon if it meant you would always be happy and safe. I can't show it because I can't lose you."
His voice sounded strained, as if it caused him pain to speak like this. Your voice caught in your throat, unable to form any words. You could only surge forward in a desperate kiss, which he matched in fervor. You couldn't get enough of him, shoving your tongue into his mouth clumsily to explore it. He grunted in surprise, but quickly adapted, returning the favor quickly. Your hand that was resting on his wrapped around to thread through his windswept hair, and the one that was on his hip slid to his bare chest, trailing down to his haramaki. He groaned into your mouth, his own hands skimming down from your face, featherlight touches down your shoulders and sides until he reached your hips. He broke the kiss, breathless.
"You drive me insane, woman" he muttered as his hands cupped under your ass. He tapped his hands twice, and you took the hint, looping your arms around his neck and jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. He lifted you easily, and you kissed him again. He moaned into the kiss, and you answered with a groan. He knelt smoothly on the blanket, lowering you to your back gently. You broke the kiss, looking at him softly as he hovered above you, hands caging your head.
"You drive me insane too" you muttered with a smile. He smiled lovingly at you.
"Pretty sure that's part of the boyfriend job description" he answered, leaning down to nose your jaw. You huffed a laugh as he tickled your neck with butterfly kisses. You rarely saw this side of Zoro, and each moment made you fall more in love with him. Usually it was desperate, passionate kisses that lead to fucking, and while that was nice, this felt more like you were going to make love. You dragged your hands down his chest, reveling in the warm touch and the chiseled muscles.
"Zoro"
"Hm?" He broke away from your neck, meeting your gaze. Your hands drifted to the front of the shoulders, flexed as he held himself above you.
"I want you" you whispered. His eyes flared with lust.
"Whatever you want, princess" he muttered, lips brushing yours with his words. He covered your lips with his, slightly chapped and tasting like the sweet sake he had on the walk here. You groaned, and you let him explore your mouth with his tongue, running over your teeth and tangling his tongue with yours. Your hands threaded through his hair, scratching his scalp the way he liked. He broke the kiss from your lips and started kissing down your neck, gently biting in places before licking and kissing it as if in apology. A hand wandered under your shirt, caressing your belly, sides, and breasts.
"I don't tell you nearly enough. You're beautiful"
Your breath hitched, and you raised a hand to cover your mouth in shyness. He sat back, and pulled you sitting upright with his movement. He helped you strip from your shirt, decorating your chest with soft kisses. You tilted your head back, a blush on your face, unused to the loving attention. Normally it was pawing and tearing at each other's clothes in desperate lust when you finally got some privacy, but this... this you liked. A lot.
You moaned lightly as his hands deftly removed your bra, then eased you back down gently onto the blanket. He cupped your breasts, thumb rubbing gentle circles over your nipples as his tongue laved over the other one. You moaned quietly, raising a curled hand to your lips in embarrassment. Zoro caught it before it even reached your shoulder, and popped off your nipple to catch your eye as he hovered over your chest.
"Let me hear you. Please." His voice was deepened with lust. You nodded at him, sure your blush was prominent. He huffed a small chuckle, letting himself look at you with all the love he had, a genuine close-lipped smile curving his lips softly.
"Let me take care of you today" he said, kissing the back of your fingers.
You tangled your fingers with his, gazing at him, "Z-zoro".
He leaned down to kiss your lips chastely, before allowing himself to travel down your neck and chest, planting soft kisses on your skin. He whispered praises unabashedly, knowing he could show his love for you openly here. It was safe. His hands kneaded your breasts as if to ground himself.
"I love you so fucking much"
"So beautiful"
"I love how you do so much for me"
"I love how you show me you care for me"
"I love how innocent and carefree you can be"
"I'd give you the world if I could"
He slowly made his way to your shorts, nipping lightly at the skin of your tummy before sliding his hands down your sides and removing your shorts and panties. You lifted your hips to help him. He hummed in appreciation at the sight of you laid bare in front of him, better than any meal he could ever taste. He gently spread your legs, and you tried to keep your thighs closed out of embarrassment. He soothed his warm calloused hands on the outside of your legs, from hips to ankles. He easily placed your knees on his shoulders, and eased himself forward. You parted for him automatically.
"There's my good girl" he cooed. Electrifying heat pooled in your lower abdomen at the words. His words were usually somewhat degrading, which you loved, but his praise trailed heated fingers down your spine. You moaned, and you could feel him smirking against the fat of your thigh as he kissed it. His fingers slid their way over your slit, finding your hole and collecting some slick so he could rub your clit. You hummed at the sensation, breath starting to come faster as you began to lose yourself to his ministrations. His fingers were gently drawing circles on the outside of your clit, making sure you didn't get too stimulated right away.
His face lowered in tandem with his fingers, his tongue quickly finding your clit as his fingers prodded at your hole. One slid in and out a few times before the second finger joined and together, they prodded up into that one spot that sent your toes curling, right as he flicked his tongue expertly on your clit. Your orgasm was sudden and blinding, squeezing around his fingers and your hands finding their way to his head, bringing him closer. He groaned into your cunt, lapping at you like his life depended on it. Your moan was loud, head thrown back and back arched sweetly for him as your thighs squeezed around his head. He only eased his onslaught of pleasure as your thighs loosened their grip and you were pushing away his head.
Your chest was heaving from your pleasure, and he was catching his breath from being happily squished between your thighs. He licked the shiny release he could release from his face, dragging the back of his hand across the rest of his face.
"You like being praised that much, princess?" he teased, a smirk on his face as he shed his coat and haramaki with practiced movements. You could only stare as his muscular frame rippled under his tanned skin. He leaned over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. He chuckled, but it was different from the dark laugh that promised difficulty walking the next day. There was a light blush on his cheeks, and he looked genuinely happy. You looked in awe, having never seen this expression on his serious face. He brushed his lips on your cheek, then pulled back.
"You deserve to hear it."
You couldn't help it. At those words, tears brimmed your eyes. Zoro panicked. He sat back on his heels and immediately brought you to his lap, holding you.
"Oi! Wait! Don't cry! Did I hurt you? What's wrong?"
You shook your head, a watery smile breaking through.
"Just... who are you and what have you done with my Zoro? You're all sappy!"
He rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead gently.
"I'm tryna be romantic for once, treat you like you treat me constantly" he muttered, scowling as he looked away. You dissolved into giggles.
"There you are! There's the man I love." He huffed.
"Did you wanna fuck or not?" he asked bluntly, shifting his legs so you could feel his hard length trapped in his pants. It sent the heat of arousal swirling through your veins again.
"I wanna make love" you cooed with a smirk in his ear, pressing your chest against his bare skin. He hissed out a breath.
"Lay down then, princess" he growled in your ear. You could feel him smirking against your cheek, "Let me make love to you" he teased, throwing your own words back at you. His fingers trailed down your spine, landing on your hips. You shifted off his lap and made yourself comfy on the blanket. He stood quickly to removed his pants, but you didn't miss the quick scan of the area to make sure you were alone. Not that he cared if people saw the two of you fucking, he just didn't want this experience ruined.
He sank down and crawled over your form, spreading your legs wide to kneel between them. You absolutely loved when he fucked you in missionary. He was so big and strong, and he stretched you out so well. He surrounded you and was inside of you, and it was both a calming and euphoric sensation.
He stroked his large cock with one hand, the other balancing his weight by your head. You dragged your fingernails up his arm, landing on the back of his shoulder.
"Please, Zoro" you murmured. His silver eye widened a little before his lips curved up softly. He lowered himself in a sort of half one-armed pushup to rest on his elbow. You didn't miss the casual show of strength. Showoff. He eased the tip into your wet pussy, and you hissed in a breath through your teeth as you turned your head into his forearm, biting lightly. Zoro laid kisses on your neck and jaw, distracting you from the stretch. His other arm came up to the other side of your head.
"Good girl. Doing so well" he murmured in your ear. You shivered, the words in his deep voice making you groan. He took it as an invitation to continue, and he slowly began to sheath himself into you. You were soaking. His praise, kisses, godly body, and obvious love all affected you deeply.
"Shit. So tight and wet"
Your hands curled into claws, lightly scratching down his back as you whimpered. He shushed you, caressing a finger down you cheek.
"So good. Taking it so well" he murmured before kissing your lips. You could only moan into the kiss. You raised your legs to rest on his sides and hips. He reached deeper and you moaned loudly at the sensation.
"Good fuckin girl. Doing so good for me. Took my whole cock on the first try" He moaned into the flesh of your throat. You whined, arching your back. The new angle hit something devastating deep inside, and you mewled.
"Look at you, so beautiful for me"
"Zoro~ move" you moaned. He started slow, letting you get used to the stretch, but quickly built his pace to a steady, smooth one that sent you keening. His thick cock was dragging along your walls, pulling out enough so his tip was pushing gently on your g spot, before pushing in smoothly with a roll of his hips that had his cockhead pushing that one spot deep inside. Your breath was heaving, interspersed between moans and calls of his name. It was so good, but you couldn't quite reach the peak.
"Please, let me cum" you begged desperately. Zoro grunted above you, raising himself so his palms were beside your head. He hardly broke his rhythm as he looked at you with a dark smile.
"I thought you wanted me to make love to you" he teased. You reached up, cupping his cheek with a hand.
"Romance me later. Fuck me. Now"
"As you wish, princess" he mocked.
He pulled out, kneeling in front of your hips as he slung your legs over his shoulders. He simply picked up your hips, and started slamming his cock in and out of your pussy. Skin slapping together echoed across the field, and your wails followed. With your back bowed off the ground, you had no control over your hips, but the angle was incredible. Your hands gripped the blanket uselessly, unable to hold back your moans and sounds of pleasure. Above you, Zoro was grunting and swearing under his breath. You could tell he was getting close, seeing you bent so sweetly under him.
"God fucking damn it. You're just sucking me in" he growled. You tightened at the praise. You heard him chuckle darkly.
"That's right baby. Feel so good, tightening on my cock like that. I want you to cum for me, like that. Needing me to hold you up like this. You look so pretty, under me like this"
As he spoke, the knot in your abdomen tightened to dangerous levels. Your legs tensed until you were practically hanging from his shoulders. At the new tension holding you up, Zoro could wrap one hand around your thighs holding them together as he held you up, lightly choking himself with your calves on the sides of his neck as he brought one hand to snake around to your torso. His warm hand pressed down on your lower abdomen, and he could feel his own length as he pistoned in and out of you. A new sensation began to build.
"Z-Zoro- something- ah! please! I'm gonna-"
"Go ahead. Cum hard on my fucking cock"
His thumb reached down to draw circles on your clit, and at the rough touch, you exploded. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and Zoro kept your thighs tightly against himself, slowly only slightly as you tightened around him enough to start to push him out. Your back bowed further, and you felt yourself wetting his torso as you squirted. His body shuddered as his hips stuttered to a stop, a loud groan leaving him as you unwittingly limited the blood flow to his head with your spasming calves. Had your eyes been open and focused, you would've seen his eyes fluttering and rolled back in his head, cumming hard.
Both you were breathless as Zoro lowered your hips back down to the blanket, collapsing beside you, uncaring of the mess.
"holy shit" you breathed. Zoro started to chuckle at your swearing, and you joined, giggling as you rolled to snuggle onto his shoulder. He held you close, and you reveled in the touch. Suddenly you sat up, looking concerned and turned his head to the side to look at his neck.
"Did I choke you? I just realized that maybe my legs-"
"I'm fine. I liked it" he took your hand in yours, looking sheepish, "It's almost like being squeezed by your thighs when I eat you out."
You blinked at him, easing yourself back down.
"Huh. Who would've thought you had a choking kink" you muttered to yourself. Zoro swatted your bare ass lightly in retaliation, but didn't deny your words. He wasn't a liar. The two of you laid there in easy silence, listening to the breeze and inhaling the sweet perfume. You shifted, feeling the uncomfortable squelch of drooling cum from your pussy.
"Let's get cleaned up" your boyfriend suggested, sitting up. Clear droplets rolled down his torso with the movement, and you watched their movements.
"I don't think I've ever cum that hard" you said quietly. Zoro handed you a napkin he produced from his bag.
"Me either" he admitted. You giggled, still somewhat delirious from the post-sex high.
"What did you pack?" you asked curiously. You were starting to get hungry, and you were thirsty from your heaving breaths. Zoro silently handed you your clothes, and you took them gratefully. He began pulling out a meal and drinks from his bag, and it was obvious Sanji packed it with care. You smiled softly, understanding the sentiment. Zoro sucked up his pride to make you happy for a day.
You crawled over to him, still naked, and pressed your chest to his slightly sweaty back as you hugged him. He grunted at your sudden affection, and you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
"I love you, and I know you love me too. I see it in the small things, the things you can't hide. We love each other, and that's what matters. Don't let what they say get to you. I'll start telling the crew to stay out of it too" you said, determined. He somehow slung you around him and into his lap, an innocent smile on his face.
"Whatever you want to do. As long as you know that I love you"
You smiled easily in return, kissing the tip of his nose.
"Get dressed. You're naked" you said, crawling off his lap. You weren't sure if you could even stand up after that round.
Zoro landed a solid swat to your bare ass retreating from him, "you're one to talk"
------
That evening back on the ship, Brook played your favorite songs, and you were surprised when Zoro thanked Usopp and Robin in front of you. They had gone above and beyond, creating a tiny greenhouse planter for your soon-to-be spring flower garden. Sanji asked if you liked the food, and you thanked him. Even Zoro held his tongue, simply nodding at the cook. That night, as you lay in bed with your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his earrings before trailing your touch down his jaw. He opened his eye curiously.
"Thank you for today" you murmured. You didn't know how to begin describing how much it meant to you, so you simply kissed him gently, trying to pour your emotion into the kiss. He cupped your cheek, pulling back from the kiss.
"I love you" he muttered. You smiled softly. His walls were up again, but you could never doubt his words. He never lied. Not to you.
"I love you too, Zoro"
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sleepchapter · 10 months
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#TRAITOR .”🗒️!
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— genre : despite the title, this is 1000% fluff (hyunjin x reader)
— summary : kkami can be a sweet, but also a little bit intimidating dog, even with hyunjin. so imagine hyunjins surprise when the very first time you come over to stay with him, his dog is all cuddled up with you, relaxed, and forgetting all about him.
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you and hyunjin had been together for some time and today was going to be the first time you’d ever meet his dog, kkami. if you were going to date hyunjin, you had to at least know most of the most important people in his life, so of course you had to meet kkami. hyunjin made sure to emphasize that.
before going to meet his dog, you and hyunjin had a mini date at a café nearby his home. once you two were done, you walked hand in hand to his home. now, the whole time on the way there hyunjin had spoke very highly of his dog but at the same time he would squeeze in some sentences that made it seem like he was scared of him.
after a few minutes you had arrived at hyunjins (kkamis..) house. he quickly opened the door and only a few seconds after, his dog came running in while letting out a few barks. hyunjin lent down and started to allow kkami to kiss him. (which led you to wonder if before your mini coffee date if he had kissed kkami because you had kissed hyunjin on that date and you didn’t really want dog saliva on your lips) kkami took some time to realize you were even there and just sniffed you a little before walking (strutting) away. hyunjin seemed a teeny bit concerned that kkami didn’t find interest in you. but as long as he didn’t hate you, he’d just have to deal with it.
“he’s not as scary as you made him out to be”
you seemed to be mocking him. especially after he basically just made out with his dog but he just slapped your shoulder.
“i didn’t say he was awful, but he has his moments…he’s just going to listen because there’s company over”
you rolled your eyes at that letting out a ‘sure’ before you both moved over to the couch and started channel surfing before you found a decent drama to watch. after quite a few episodes (which were all almost movie lengths long) it was starting to get darker and you two were cuddled up closer on the couch. soon you felt little bits of air being blown on your ankles and you looked down to see kkami smelling you once again. he soon leaped up on your side of the couch and started to smell your arm. hyunjin finally looking away from the tv and seeing the scene lets out a dramatic gasp once kkami moves up onto your lap and lays down.
“wow, and here i thought he didn’t like you”
which then caused you to let out a dramatic gasp back at him. you started to rub the dogs head a little and his eyes started to slowly close. but now hyunjin wanted attention. so, he started to call for kkami to come to him, which only caused kkami to stare at him as if he had said the most offensive thing ever, causing hyunjin to pout. so he moves his hand over to pet kkami as well but then kkami lets out a small growl, causing you to snicker when hyunjin yanks his hand back.
“and you said he ‘didn’t like me’”
you teased. he only gave you a glare.
“you can’t be serious kkami ! you just met her. she doesn’t kiss you everyday like i do !”
he only slouched back into the couch with an angry pout before you ruffled his hair as well, with him mumbling ‘traitor’ under his breath. it’s safe to assume that he directed that to both you and kkami.
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pinkroseblooms · 2 months
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i just started Bucchigiri and love your stuff!!! 😭 Can you do one for Matakara having a crush on a new transfer girl? She wears the boys uniform and a hoodie over her head so she doesn't get attention. He only finds out cuz she helped treat his wounds after a fight once and it's been their secret ever since
Thank you so much! Hope you like this!
Just Between Us
Matakara/afab!Reader
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Summary: Matakara takes it upon himself to befriend the new introverted transfer student and develops a crush, unaware they're both keeping secrets from the other. wc: 2.2k a/n: no warnings, mostly just fluff and a few swear words. reader is afab but I personally written them as being gender fluid. I also headcanon Matakara as bi disaster. Enjoy!
You yawn, barely paying attention as your teacher goes on about something to do with…history? English? Biology? At this point you don’t bother keeping track; no one else does. Usually everyone in your homeroom is openly hooting and hollering over the lecture; on good days, most of the other students are zoned out or passing notes, not even attempting to be sneaky about it.
Speaking of, a folded up card gets flicked on your desk; you look, puzzled at it, and back to your seatmate. On your right is Matakara Asamine, smiling patiently and pointing to the paper.
You roll your eyes but smile back; he has your number, the two of you could easily have a whole conversation over text if you wished to. Still, you open the little piece of paper and read what Matakara scribbled: he’s asking if you want to see a movie after school. You stifle a chuckle and write back an affirmative, deliberately sliding your hand over the surface of his desk; after he reads your answer, Matakara pumps his fist silently in a display of excitement. Your profile is obscured with your hood up and your head turned, so you hope he doesn’t see how wide you’re grinning. 
It’s only been a few months since you transferred to Ichizu and you’re grateful to have made a few decent friends; with the district's reputation, you hadn’t expected to do much in the way of socializing. You weren't particularly street smart or experienced in self defense even: you were one of the few students who fell into the “harmless wallflower” category. There were a handful of kids at school who were like you; they just sort of walked around, didn’t speak much, and were largely ignored by the majority of the school populace as too weak and plain to bother with. 
The Minato Kai and Siguma members mostly kept to themselves, interested in their own rivalry and their own personal circles of friends and acquaintances. Normies like you were mildly entertaining to mess with, and while you did get some teasing and the occasional shove in the hallway, you had sufficiently flown under the radar.
At least, until Matakara Asamine decided he wanted to make you his friend. From the beginning you were surprised, but not especially wary. The general opinion of Matakara was that he was strong and had integrity, two traits that Minato Kai prized; his revered older brother would surely be proud, who you had also heard good things about. With all that in mind, you didn’t hesitate too much when Matakara and his friends asked you to sit with them to eat or tag along to the batting cages. Frankly, you let everyone else do most of the talking; it was fun though. You genuinely enjoyed the company and Matakara shot down any attempts to get you to pledge with their gang. 
“What are we going to see later?” You ask as you take a seat next to Zabu, handing him the manga he had lent you a week prior. “Sorry it took so long, I lost it in the pile.”
“Eh, you can keep that if you want.” Zabu scrunches his nose at the volume, sliding it back towards you. “I’m not into that sappy shit.”
“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow. “Why’d ya buy it?”
“I heard it was supposed to be good, but it was cliche as hell.” Zabu shrugs, jabbing his elbow into Sakegaki’s side; said boy had been reaching his chopsticks into Zabu’s bento to nab a piece of grilled meat. “What movie? Are we going to see a movie?”
“Um-”
“Hey guys!” 
Matakara almost startles you with how loudly his voice booms; he plops down onto the bench next to you. “Sorry, the bread line was crazy today.”
“Figures, it’s half off day. What’d you get?” Zabu asks curiously.
“Yakisoba, here,” Matakara takes one of the sealed baggies of treats and puts one on top of your plate. “I owe you for last time, your favorite is the melon bread, right?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to.” You add. “Thanks though.”
“No problem.”
Lunch period comes and goes and you completely forget to ask what movie the four of you are going to see, but it doesn’t bug you much. You don’t really mind if it means you get to sit by Matakara again; the last time you went to the movies with him he had shared a bucket of popcorn with you, whispering into your ear every now and again to comment on something. You spend the rest of the day hoping you’ll be able to sit next to him again, maybe have one of those moments where your hands touch by accident. Zabu doesn’t know what he’s talking about in your humble opinion: if it was up to you, your school life would be one big, romantic comedy cliche, and Matakara would be the male lead.
Except, as things are now with you passing for a boy, you’re pretty sure your role as of now is the quiet friend, the awkward loner adopted by the popular kid. Not a bad deal all things considered, but it makes having a crush something of a pain in the ass. Still, you’ll take some yearning on your end if it means you can continue going through your school days mostly unnoticed and unbothered. The fact of the matter is presenting as a girl is a hassle; even the toughest girls in your class have to deal with being pursued and bugged by obnoxious wannabe casanovas who think they’re the earth’s gift to women. 
So far, you haven’t had any risky encounters: the gender neutral bathroom, dirty and falling apart like everything else in the school, helps avoid your secret getting out and you skip changing for gym because…well, pretty much everyone else does anyway and the teachers don’t care. You can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t keep passing as a boy until graduation; not to mention, the boy’s uniforms are comfier. 
“Where’s the guys?” 
It’s the late afternoon and you’re changed into baggy sweats and battered sneakers; inside your jacket are four packages of candy picked up from the convenience store you’re presently loitering outside of to sneak into the theater. Matakara is late; you’re about to text him when you hear his voice calling out to you. Down the sidewalk, Matakara is running your way, smiling wide and out of uniform; as he reaches you, your eyes widen.
“What the hell? You’re bleeding man.” You step up to him, craning your neck to get a good look at the cut over his eyebrow. “What the hell happened?”
“Ah, one of Siguma’s guys challenged me on my way here.” Matakara raises his fingers to the small gash. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize his kick landed that hard.”
“Matakara, hold on a second.”
“Where are you-?”
You rush into the store; in three minutes you’ve returned with a box of bandages, a small bag of cotton swabs, disinfecting ointment, hand sanitizer, and a bottle of water.
“What’s the water for?”
“Flush out the wound. Some of the blood’s drying.” 
You make Matakare sit down on the wooden bench on the side of the building and lay out the supplies. He watches you silently as you pour some of the clean water onto a swab and begin to carefully wipe off the dried blood, soaking up the bit that’s still oozing. Matakara is obediently still and doesn’t wince as you swipe a few dabs of ointment over the injury after sanitizing your hands properly. 
“You do this a lot?”
“Nope.” You confess, handing him the bottle of water. “Here, have some. It’s always a good idea to drink water. I’m gonna put the bandaid on; can’t believe you didn’t realize you got hit so hard.”
“I was kinda in a rush.” Matakara’s hand dwarfs the plastic bottle; he’s looking down a bit guiltily. “Sorry I was late. I thought it’d be over quicker.”
“Well, the guys are late anyway, so it works out.” You gently smooth the bandage across his eyebrow. “There, it should be fine. Are you sure you don’t feel dizzy or anything? Maybe we should skip the movie.”
“No!” Matakara says, sitting up straight. “I’m totally fine, seriously. Thanks for taking care of me.”
“I should be the one saying that.” You sit next to him with a sigh. “Don’t apologize; I’m lucky you want to hang out with me at all.”
“Of course I do! You’re fun to be around and you’re a good listener and you’re really-” 
Matakara stops talking; he suddenly looks away and takes a sip of water. You stare at him, a bit flattered and a lot confused. Matakara's been acting a little off all day come to think of it.
“Should I text the guys? You told them where we were gonna meet, right?” You check your phone while Matakara finishes the water. “Think they went straight to the theater?”
“Um, actually, Sakegaki and Zabu aren’t coming.” Matakara tells you; he scrunches up the bottle and tosses it cleanly into the recycling bin next to him. “You don’t mind, right?”
“Oh. No, it’s cool.” You’re not lying but now your curiosity has peaked. “Is everything okay with you guys?”
“Yeah, nothing wrong.” Matakara says quickly. “If you want I can call them, if you’re not comfortable with it being just us.”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“Because…” 
Matakara’s hands are clasped and he’s still looking at the ground; he looks troubled and you feel bad for pushing the issue, whatever it is, but something is definitely wrong. 
“I don’t mean to presume.” Matakara begins slowly, measuring his tone. “It’s none of my business, but I, um, when you got close to me, I kinda felt…your chest.”
You stare at him blankly; Matakara’s cheeks flush and he finally gives you a ‘look’. 
“Oh.” You blink. “Shit. I guess you found me out.”
“So, you were born a girl?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you…?” Matakara averts his stare. “Wait, sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“No, you’re fine. The thing is, it’s just kind of easier to pass myself off as a guy, ya know?” You pat his shoulder. “So, would you mind keeping it between us? Honestly, I don’t really care if people see me as a guy, girl, whatever, but it would make my life easier if you didn't go telling anyone else.”
“A secret?” Matakara perks up. “Between us?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure!”
You’re a bit taken aback; you know Matakara’s a nice guy and all, but you didn’t expect him to be this easy going about your charade.
“You can trust me.” Matakara puts a hand over his heart. “I can swear it in blood.”
“No, no more bleeding!” You blanch at the thought. “Dude, it’s not that deep.”
“I know, but it’s just nice.” Matakara rubs the back of his neck; he’s beaming at you, eyes crinkling in the corners, cheeks flushed. “You know, we’re always around other people or you go off on your own; when we are together, you don’t say much…I feel like we haven’t actually gotten a chance to really know each other, so I like we have this thing that’s only for us. Does that sound weird?”
“A little, but I see what you mean.” You tug the strings of your hoodie so it closes more around your face. “If you want, we could do this more.”
“This?”
“Hanging out,” You clarify, voice softer than you mean for it to be. “Just the two of us. If you want.”
“Then, it’s okay I didn’t invite the others? You’re not uncomfortable with it?”
“I probably feel the most comfortable around you, Matakara.”
You chance peeking out and realize you’re screwed: Matakara is leaning over, right in your face, eyes glued to your face and almost shining. He radiates warmth, like he’s trying to make you gravitate closer to his side, unknowingly pulling you toward him.
"Really?"
Actually, it’s more like his hand is placed over yours and he’s moving his face close to yours; for a moment you and Matakara stare at each other mutely. His hand covers yours and you don’t feel uncomfortable but your heart might actually combust inside your ribcage from how tenderly Matakara is gazing at you. 
“Do you really mean it?” Matakara breathes, voice almost like a sigh. “Can we go to the movies now? Just you and me?”
“Uh huh.” You nod dumbly, swallowing the spit you didn’t realize was pooling from glancing at his lips. “I, um, bought candy for everyone, four of them.”
“More for us.” Matakara smiles brightly, standing up; he’s yet to let go of your hand. 
“Works for me.” You don’t try to pull your hand away, allowing Matakara to pretty much lead you down the sidewalk in the direction of the theater. You’ve never seen him act almost childishly eager and his attitude is admittedly infectious. “Let’s share a popcorn bucket, it'll be less expensive.”
“Yeah, we should split a drink too.”
Matakara looks back, and you can’t miss the mischievous glint in his eyes as your cheeks grow hot.
“…I’m gonna have to watch out for you.”
“I don’t mind. In fact,” Matakara is grinning a little too innocently for the look he’s giving you over his shoulder. “You can look at me all you want.”
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blitzyn · 11 months
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special attention pt. 3
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dottore x m!reader
Request : HI- I noticed you have your requests open so I'm super excited! I love your writing sm. If possible, can I request like a continuation of your Dottore and fatui! Reader? Maybe one where the reader (sub & bottom) is assigned under another harbinger so all of his attention has been on this other harbinger instead of on Dottore (dom & top)? If not then that's okay! - Anonymous
Synopsis: Dottore has enough of his subpar Agents and decides to take you back.
part 1 | part 2
a/n -> i did it omg. super sorry ive been gone again! life was a bit busy but now that summer is coming up i might be able to write these a bit faster. im not super proud of this one since im kinda rusty rn but i hope this is at least decent! also, sorry for the sudden change in appearance!
wc -> 3.4k
cw -> anal fingering, anal sex, spit as lube, desk/office sex, choking, slight overstim, pretty vanilla overall ig, he's kinda possessive so there's that, not beta read
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"Stupid, incompetent—" The Harbinger before the cowering Fatui subordinate cut himself off with an agitated sigh. It was quiet for a few moments, save for the agent's nervous breaths. Dottore wasn't one to get irritated very often, let alone angry. Perhaps the results produced by his previous agent skyrocketed his standards – or maybe this one was just dumber than an idiot.
"Please, help me comprehend how you lost not one," The Agent looked just about ready to sink into the floor. "not two, but six bases?"
The subordinate struggled to answer, mouth gaping open and closed as their hands shook in ill-concealed fear. Maybe in different circumstances, he would've given an amused quirk of his lips, though this was the last thing he needed right now. Instead, his lips curled into a scowl.
"W-We were... Overwhelmed..." they stammered pathetically.
"Clearly," Dottore said, impatiently tapping his finger on his knuckle. "I'm certain you're capable of speaking properly."
"We were ambushed by a horde of Mitachurls..." There was a beat of silence.
"And?"
They did not answer. "Don't tell me you lost all six because of mere Mitachurls."
Dottore's frown deepened. "That seems a bit coincidental, don't you think? If you're going to lie, do it well." He sighed. "Dismissed. I'll see to it you're placed back under basic training."
His voice held a monotonous tone to it that made the Agent fidget in place.
"It was a mistake—"
"Dismissed. I've already given you a chance to explain yourself. I have no need for your negligent incompetency."
He watched as the Agent hurried out of his office, and he had half the mind to yank them back inside when they slammed the door shut. He ground his teeth, irritated with the turn of events. He was going to need a new subordinate. Again.
He sighed. Not one of them managed to regain lost fortresses within a week, and he's been losing more than he thought possible. He, number 2 of the Harbingers, lost more than number 11. He was angry, above all else, but there was also the undeniable burn of humiliation at that fact.
It nearly surprised him how weak the soldiers sent to him were. Or perhaps they were always this way, and having you raised his expectations tenfold. He knew your strength and self-control were, by far, your best virtues, and it so happened to be what others were lacking. You were sent away to another Harbinger to keep the other Agents in check, and while he may have been the slightest bit proud to have managed to acquire an Agent that proved to be what everyone else needed, he was growing tired of having to wait for your return.
He shoved the articles that struck irritation through his chest into a drawer and stood from his chair. Quickly striding out of his office, he set out to search for you.
It didn't take him long to find you, though it was purely an accident. You were swiftly walking down the echoing hallways with a few papers and a relic that he didn't care to identify before he called your name.
"Agent [L.Name]," he spoke, his voice even.
"Yes, Lord Harbinger?" You paused in front of him after offering a slight bow. You fidgeted. "I apologize for the urgency, but Lady Arlecchino requests that I hurry with submitting my report."
"I am rescinding my permission to allow you to work under someone else." Even with your mask on, he was easily able to discern your surprise. The slight curl of your fingers was a dead giveaway, though, to any other person, it might've come off as idle shifting.
You were at a loss for what to do. You couldn't go against your current superior, but you also couldn't defy the words of one of the highest-ranking Harbingers that was still technically your boss.
"Lady Arlecchino said that I must hurry in delivering this item, and I'd rather not break her trust..." you trailed off as you observed him under your mask, something he was no doubt doing to you under his.
You nervously ground your teeth at the frown that crossed his face but remained steadfast with your words.
"Your loyalty is a virtue, but I'm afraid you've placed it upon the wrong person." He positioned his hands behind his back. "I will handle her when the time comes. Now, you respond to me."
"Yes, sir," you said after a moment. While you felt a tinge of relief at finally being able to work under him again, you felt a bit uncomfortable with leaving an assignment just as you were about to finish. But you knew you were going to have to set aside what you felt at the moment - you had a feeling something was off.
You thought about asking him what was wrong but decided against it with hopes that he'll bring it up himself. He wasn't the type to search for someone unless he needed them.
Your shoes tapped against the cold marble floors as you walked silently, following behind at a respectful distance. It didn't take long for you to reach his office, neither of you wasting time to get in.
"During your absence, many others have arrived to take your place. None of them have managed to produce quality or successful reports." He handed you a few papers for you to skim through. Without missing a beat, you did what was wordlessly told and blinked slowly underneath your mask. How could someone possibly fuck up this bad?
You startled a bit when you felt a hand rest on your hip, but maintained your usual demeanor.
"Would you like me to train the new recruits? Starting from there prevents more of this from happening," you questioned, curiously peering at him over your shoulder. "Or do you suggest otherwise?"
Dottore hummed. "I suggest that you assist me in relieving some of the irritation the others have caused."
You swallowed as anticipation bubbled in your chest. "Of course, my Lord."
"Mask." Was all he said, voice demanding and stern.
You wordlessly nodded, raising your hand to remove your mask and hood. There was a prickling sensation on the side of your face where his gaze bore into you, studying every twitch of your muscles. You could feel your skin grow hot, and with the way the corners of his lips slightly raised, he could see it, too.
Your nerves were abuzz with excitement, pooling in your gut that spread outwards towards your fingertips. You resisted the urge to rub your thighs together for some semblance of relief, clenching your jaw tightly.
"Already? Were you anticipating this from the start?" he mused, dragging his fingertips across your crotch. "How needy."
He squeezed lightly before abandoning the area, placing a hand on your chest to slip it underneath your thick coat, silently urging you to take it off. You did without complaint, finding the fur inside overbearing. You tried to toss it on the floor as neatly as you could before his hands found themselves beneath your shirt, gliding his cold, gloved palms over your scalding skin.
As quickly as they came, they left, only to push you down onto his desk. Your breath was caught in your throat, curling your fingers into a fist as you reveled in how he dragged his hands down your body to curl his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants. He wasted no time in sliding your pants off, swiftly pressing a palm against your aching cock.
You sighed at the touch, shifting your hips forward in search of relief. He gently squeezed and stroked you through your boxers with a quiet, condescending laugh.
He pinned you to the desk by the top of your back and began grinding against your ass, leisurely thrusting while observing the way your hands twitched to stimulate yourself even further.
With an amused smile, he suddenly pulled away completely. You shivered at the absence of his body heat, peering over your shoulder to send him a questioning look.
"I must thank you for your assistance," he said, rounding the corner of his desk. "I feel quite relaxed, now."
"I-Wh..." you stammered, trying to peer through his mask despite the lack of eyes.
"What's the matter? I'm afraid you need to speak up if you want me to understand you." He crossed his arms in a faux contemplative manner. Your face burned, unable to properly look at him.
"Oh, don't get shy on me now," he spoke with a mocking tone in his voice, standing directly across from you as he grabbed you by your chin. It was a firm hold, and you were unlikely to be able to free yourself from him - not that you wanted to, anyway. "It's a simple request. Tell me what you want."
Your mouth opened and closed pitifully before you finally responded, "I want you to keep touching me."
"See? That wasn't so difficult, now was it?" His grin widened a fraction and he returned to his place behind you. He enjoyed the way you were so easily reduced into a sheepish mess by just a few of his touches that you were sure were laced with some type of drug.
He removed his gloves and snaked one of his hands up your throat to your mouth, wordlessly commanding you to suck on his fingers. You readily complied and swirled your tongue around his skin which tasted faintly of chemicals and salt. Your heart pounded in your chest when he pushed them deeper, chest rising and falling in shallow intervals. You wrapped your lips around them and sucked, treating them as if they were his cock (which you secretly craved, but you supposed it wasn't much of a secret anymore).
Dottore could feel heat rising in his abdomen the longer he held them in your mouth, pleased with your eagerness.
A string of saliva connected you to him when he pulled away, his free hand sliding your underwear down your legs. He prodded your hole for a few agonizing moments just to listen to your hitching breaths before he finally inserted them inside you. His thick fingers provided a slight burn, but it quickly morphed into arousal.
He moved at a leisurely pace, enjoying your increasing impatience as you tried dutifully to keep your desperation at bay. He made sure to avoid your prostate to leave you needy for more, pressing against areas close to where you wanted him. You let out frustrated sighs but refused to voice out your complaints, letting him follow his own pace.
It was amusing to see you try hard to maintain your slipping composure, but he knew that soon enough, it would collapse completely.
You tensed when he removed his fingers from you, anticipating the familiar feeling of his cockhead against your hole, but it never came.
"You know, I think I may have had a change of heart," he said with a thoughtful tone. "Perhaps you should report to Arlecchino after all."
"Wait-" you pleaded, voice high and frantic. "S-surely you're not serious?"
"Oh? What makes you think that?"
You swallowed hard. Dottore is unpredictable - that much you learned. For all you know, he could be entirely sincere and you'd look like a fool, but a part of you believes that he's only messing with you. Getting you flustered was often a part of his intentions when he was around you, so it wasn't impossible.
"Because you do not back away from your plans when they're already set, regardless of how you think it may turn out."
"And might you enlighten me in what you think said plans are?"
You swallowed nervously as quiet words spilled from your lips. "To fuck me..."
There was a moment of agonizing silence (for you, at least) before a smile overtook his features. "I'm flattered you know me so well."
You bit your lip in anticipation when you heard the rustle of fabric behind you. You could hardly repress a shudder when you listened to him spit on his cock before pressing himself against your hole, holding your waist tightly with one hand while the other guided him inside.
You groaned at the burning sensation from the lack of preparation he provided you. Your dick ached to be touched, but you resisted and relished in the pain of having to wait.
"Fuck," Dottore hissed, fighting valiantly to keep himself from shoving his cock inside you. "You're tighter than the last time I fucked you."
"Just for you," your words were breathy, your rigid Agent persona slipping away by the minute. It almost made him laugh at how easy it was to break you down like this.
"For me?" he cooed, cock throbbing. "You poor thing. You had to wait so long just to finally have me fuck you, didn't you?"
You nodded, heavy pants exiting your lips. You peered at him from over your shoulder, eyes wide and watery; there was no calm Fatuus to be seen, and he found that he adored this side of you. He could hardly suppress a smile, instead focusing on how you tightened so pleasurably around him.
"It's almost hard to believe you haven't been whoring yourself out this entire time," he muttered, partially to you. "But I know that only I am able to satisfy you like this. Or am I wrong?"
He didn't expect an answer from you - not when you could hardly keep yourself standing. He curled his fingers in your hair and yanked, forcing you to look at him. Your incoherence wasn't going to stop him from trying.
"Well?"
"N-No... only you." Your cock throbbed.
"Thought so."
He let you go in favor of holding your hips firmly, pulling out briefly to slam himself back in. The sting of him stretching you out paired deliciously with the pleasure of his cockhead against your prostate, gradually speeding up until you had to cover your mouth to prevent your moans from escaping the office.
"None of that," Dottore muttered, pulling your arm away from your face. "Let them hear. Let them know you're not for the taking any longer."
Skin slapping skin echoed in the dimly lit room, accompanied by your noises that left no room for imagination. He pulled you by the waist and wrist, tugging you onto his cock as he thrusted forward.
Your dick produced precum that dripped into the cold, marble floor, aching to be touched. The need for release burned hotter in your abdomen, and you couldn't stop yourself from subconsciously moving your hips to fuck yourself onto him.
He paused for a moment to allow you to take a brief moment of control. A condescending smile overtook his features before he regained his previous pace, driving himself forward hard enough to sting. The pain only served to enhance the ecstasy that was brought upon you, lust pooling in the pit of your stomach.
It took a great deal of restraint to prevent yourself from reaching down and jerking yourself off, your nails creating thin indents on the firm wood of the desk. He could feel you tighten around him considerably and he nearly groaned, but let out a heavy sigh through his nose instead.
Snaking one hand up your throat, he pulled you to his chest and squeezed. You instinctively wrapped your fingers around his wrist but made no attempt to pull him away. He used his other hand to tightly grasp the base of your cock, interrupting your incoming orgasm.
You let your eyes flutter shut as drool escaped the corners of your lips, too hazy-minded to remember to swallow. Raspy breaths left your throat as your ears gradually began to ring, chest tightening with a need for air, but the deprivation only sent an addicting heat through your body.
You nearly choked on your saliva when his grip went lax, not entirely moving away, but enough to let you breathe. It was hard to inhale properly when he fucked the breath out of you, but you knew that that was the best part.
"Oh, fuck, pl-please," you babble, voice raspy.
"Please what?" Dottore spoke beside your ear. "I'm not a mind reader."
He subtly angled himself and targeted your prostate to hinder your words, a faint smile lifting his face at every stutter and cry you produced. You weakly tugged on his wrist in a vain attempt to tell him what you wanted, but he remained steadfast on hearing it from your lips.
"You can use your words, can't you?" He moved his hand from your neck to begin stroking your cock, the tip flushing an angry red.
"G-God, please-" you stammered before crying out, "Please let me cum!"
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He relished in your pained groan when he briefly tightened his grip before releasing you, quickly guiding you to your orgasm with every flick of his wrist.
Electricity shot down your spine and pooled in your stomach as soon as he let go, catching you off guard. Your fingernails dug into his glove as you nearly curled into yourself, legs trembling so intensely it was a miracle you managed to hold yourself up thus far.
Your chest quickly heaved up and down. "W-Wait-"
"Quiet," Dottore shushed you. "You wanted this. Don't go back on your word."
You focused on his voice, noticing how steady and calm he sounded compared to your desperate pleas for release. A feeling of chagrin filled your chest, making an effort to control your noises, but your struggle was futile.
Tears dotted your lashes when the coil within your abdomen tightened until it finally snapped, the heat of your orgasm washing over you in powerful surges. You arched your back as your jaw went slack in a silent scream. Your cum spurt out of your cock and landed on the marble floor in a small puddle.
"I should do that more, shouldn't I?" Dottore said with a sharp-toothed grin. He wrapped his free arm around your waist when your quivering legs were unable to support your weight any longer, leaning your top half back on the desk.
You'd nod along with him if you were capable of comprehending his words, but the rhythmic pulses of burning ecstasy prevented you from replying - not that he minded. His dick pressed against your prostate despite you having just orgasmed, his relentless pace not once slowing down. The only sign of exertion he offered you was his labored breaths and occasional grunt, but even those were quiet.
You could feel his cock throb in a way that let you know he was close. You managed to strengthen your legs and started fucking yourself onto him, prompting him to straighten himself and watch.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?" he teased, hands resting on your hips. He leaned his head back and let out a satisfied groan that sent electricity shooting down your spine.
His fingertips gradually began to dig into your skin until he held you hard enough to bruise. He allowed you this semblance of control for a few more moments before yanking your hips to him with a few final thrusts, stilling as you shuddered at the feel of his cum coating your insides.
Your legs nearly went limp again, but you managed to keep yourself standing - albeit with an embarrassing amount of effort. You could hear his deep breaths behind you as both of you steeped in the silent afterglow. You suppressed a flinch when he decided to pull out, sighing at the uncomfortable emptiness it left.
You swiftly dressed yourself when you heard quiet shuffling, pulling out a handkerchief to clean your cum off the floor.
"Now, then," Dottore said as soon as you stood upright. "You have much to do since your absence. It'd be best if you began right away."
You nodded, slipping your mask back on your face.
"I don't care how you do it, I only want the results. Understood?"
"Of course." Your voice was back to its neutral tone, making the corner of the Harbinger's lips twitch upwards. It amused him how you responded so professionally despite him having fucked you not moments before. With a final nod, you left his office.
He turned to his desk once more, remembering the papers that he unceremoniously shoved inside the drawers. He sighed. It was back to work.
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788 notes · View notes
under-the-dirt · 5 months
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whispers.
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HIIIII i just ate dinner #i also showered the other night which was super difficult #doing better but anyways this is a continuation of this and i might turn this into a full series who knows! the whispers series does sound cool asf. anyways, i feel drunk although the last time i drank was new year’s a few years ago (to my knowledge) but wtv
taglist: @mechmoucha @cloudyeventss
pairing: john price x fem!reader (no gendered pronouns, only like names eg. beautiful or lass)
tags: john price is so sexy, fingering, military inaccuracies, cum eating ig? john price smut, forced proximity, i can’t write accents, UNDER 13 DNI RAH
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To say the next few weeks were awkward was an understatement. Every time you’d see Price around the base, you’d find yourself blushing and running off to do something else. He must’ve gotten tired of it, because the next time you were on a mission you were paired up with Price.
You guess it was a decent pairing, Gaz and Soap, You and Price. Except for the fact you could barely look at him, let alone have to share a safe house. He stood guard behind you while you worked on getting into the camera system to ensure Gaz and Soap’s safety.
“Soap, how copy?” You ask through the radio, hearing static before Soap’s smooth accent rang through.
“All good down here, same with Gaz. Splitting up now,” He replies, and you smile as you finally get into the camera systems, watching Gaz and Soap split up and go different directions.
“Alright, I’ve got a visual. Gaz, you’re going straight til’ the first right, then to the second door on the left. There will be a couple of hostiles, nothing you can’t handle,” You explain, and the static begins again before Gaz replies quickly.
“Roger that.”
“Good. Soap, you’re going straight until the second left then to the first door on the right. You should only have one man in there. Both of you radio silence unless there’s a problem, let me know when you’re there.”
“Sir yes sir,” Soap chuckles, and you watch both the men traverse the halls.
“What’s next?” Gaz asks, and your eyes widen slightly in surprise before quickly recovering.
“There should be a couple computers in there. Go to the ones in the back, plug in a USB to the 4 on the top row, and let me know once the intel has been fully downloaded. Soap, how copy?”
“Not good,” Is the brief response you get, and on the cameras you can see a group of men swiftly approaching him.
“Broom closet to your right, get in and stay quiet. Gaz, hurry up,” You tried to keep your words steady and calm, but you knew they probably picked up on the little bit of panic in them. When you saw more men marching towards Gaz, you knew you had to get them out of there. “Gaz, about 10 hostiles approaching. Take those USBs and get out of there.”
You shook your leg nervously as you watched Gaz grab the USBs and try and leave, being met with multiple hostiles. You stopped breathing entirely when you heard the gunshots, not daring to look. Price gently placed his hand on your shoulder.
“Soap, get your ass out of there!” Price yells into the radio, and you can hear the sounds of shuffling feet. It wasn’t until Price began rubbing your shoulder to assure you the men were okay did you open your eyes. They were uninjured, sure, but they were being chased by at least 20 hostiles.
You lost sight of them as they hopped onto the helicopter for exfil. There was no chance of you and Price getting on it, despite how close you were. It had already taken off.
“Shit,” You sigh. You tapped out of the cameras and walked to another room to take a breather.
A couple minutes later, price knocked on the doorway. “Good news ‘s we’re not trapped ‘ere. Bad news ‘s the base ‘s clogged up, and they can’t get a heli out ‘ere til’ tomorrow,” He says, and by his tone you can tell there’s more.
”And the worst news?”
“There’s no tea.”
“Not to quote soap, but Fuckin’ brits,” You laugh softly. “What is it?”
“There’s only one bed.”
“Oh,” You sigh, and shake your head. “I can take the floor.”
Price walks out, and you’re left to your own devices until the sun begins to set and you feel exhaustion begin to settle deep in your bones. Taking this as a sign to get ready for bed, you hop up and walk to the bedroom, where price is sitting on the bed in a t-shirt and his green cargo pants. God, that outfit made him look so good.
“‘S rude to stare, lass,” He purrs, chuckling softly.
“Oh, sorry,” You quickly look away and begin stripping your extra gear, all that which you hadn’t previously. You were now in a tank top and black cargos, and you shivered slightly. You definitely underestimated how cold it got at night here. “Is there any extra blankets?”
“Not that I can find,” He shrugs, tossing you an extra pillow. You fake it and toss it onto the floor beside the bed, curling up to preserve warmth as you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. You hear Price flick the lights off and climbs into the creaky bed. You shiver. “Cold?”
“Very.”
“C’mere, lass,” He coos, pulling the covers away from himself and inviting you into his arms. After a little hesitation, you crawl into his arms and press yourself to his chest. He wraps his arms around you, and his body heat warms you up far better than any amount of blankets could. But still, it’s terribly cold, and not even the living furnace that is John Price can warm you up fully. “Still cold?”
You nod. “It’s alright though, I can manage.”
“No.. Let me help you..” He purrs, running his hand down your side, quickly helping you realize how he means to. He sees no discomfort, so he runs his hand down to tour ass and gives the plump flesh a squeeze.
“Captain..” You sigh, melting into him and his touch, and he hums. His hands caress you gently before sleeping beneath the hem of your pants and panties. He runs a finger through your slick folds, chuckling when he feels the wetness gathered on them.
“Ah, what have we got ‘ere,” He laughs, pressing his thumb to your clit, causing you to let out a hushed moan. “Don’t keep quiet, I wanna hear ya.”
He rubs your clit gently, before pressing a single finger into your wet hole. The stretch of his large finger makes you gasp and rock forward gently, closing your eyes to soak in the pleasure. He hums in approval, gentle thrusting his finger, curling it to rub that spot inside of you that had you arching your back and moaning for more. He obliges, thrusting another thick finger into your desperate cunt.
“Ah- Captain.. God-“ You moan breathlessly, rocking your hips to meet his brutal thrusts. He returns to attacking your g-spot, causing that knot in your stomach you barely noticed to snap and send you toppling over the edge, moaning and gripping his shirt tightly. He rubs your clit gently to let you ride out your orgasm before slowly removing his fingers and sucking your juices off.
“Much better, no?” He chuckles, gently pushing away the hair stuck to your forehead with sweat. Your eyes are already closed as you regain your breath, falling asleep quickly.
The next day you pray that your guilty smile didn’t reveal last nights.. actions. But the odd look flicked at you from Mactavish told you that it hid nothing, and it was written in neon lights exactly what happened. That would be hard to explain.
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that was sm fun to write and i can’t wait to see how this series progresses. i’m gonna make a masterlist, comment to be tagged in the next one! <;3 @cloudyeventss
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death-paint · 4 months
Text
The Summoning (Spellbound pt.2)
Leon Kennedy x Fem! Witch! Reader
Word Count: 3427
Warnings: Smut, Daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, thigh riding, clothed sex (kinda?? reader is in lingerie I'm not sure if that counts)
Summary: Leon gets busy during the holidays, having to leave for a mission just before Christmas. You do some holiday decorating while he's gone, and he gets to open his present a little early. ;) If it's a bit confusing, reader celebrates both Yule and Christmas.
I worked on this for about a week and finished it just last night, so I really hope it's still a decent piece of writing lol. I also don't write a bunch of smut so I hope that part is at least okay
Tysm @ghostkennedy for beta reading!! If you're into dark fics, Han's your gal. Go check out their writing!!
I suggest reading part 1 first! But it's not necessary <3
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ CONTENT
Edit: I made a playlist for this and part 1! Feel free to listen to it while you're reading!
dividers by @cafekitsune
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A few months have passed since your first attempt to teach Leon the ways of your practice. Ever since then, he’s been asking you to make him protection spell jars whenever he has to leave for work, “just in case,” he says. It didn’t take a psychic to know that he was starting to believe it, even if it was just a tiny bit. Tarot card pullings are a part of both your daily routines now, and Leon was well on his way to learning their meanings.
Now, it was late December, and you were once again dancing around the house with incense, the scent of which still made Leon turn up his nose. But that didn’t matter right now. He was out “running errands,” no doubt gift shopping for your and Leon’s mutual friends. Or maybe he was out to pay a bill or two and get groceries, but either way, he was out of the house. Music blaring throughout your home once more, you spun and stomped and shimmied as you put up the Yule decorations. Small holly branches were in a vase on the dining table, a pentacle hidden in a wreath outside the front door, and a large fir tree in the corner of the living room. A few pine branches and pinecones sat atop the bookshelf and your altar in the living room, giving it a fresh scent. Candles were scattered about, almost no corner was without one. A gold one here, a red one over there, the odd green or white ones sprinkled around.
Leon was never much of a decorator, never saw the point of keeping material possessions, especially if he was basically on call for the government 24/7. It made it a little harder to tell what kinds of gifts Leon would appreciate. You only got him cologne and a new pair of gloves for his last birthday, figuring he’d appreciate a more useful present. He seemed happy with it, you caught a whiff of the cologne every time he kissed you; made your head spin. But once you came along and moved in with him, he found himself looking for little trinkets to bring back, most of which ended up displayed on your altar.
So, that’s why holiday decorations are usually up to you. Not that you minded, it was nice to have free reign over how the house looked, even if sometimes you were up at odd hours of the night nearly breaking your back to rearrange things. Literally. Leon had woken up once or twice to that, finding you on the kitchen counter or catching you from when you fell off of the bookshelf.
“You can do all that in the morning, baby,” he yawned, his groggy voice filled with concern as he rubbed his eyes. “And you can ask me to help, you know. Don’t need you breaking bones just to make the living room all pretty, doll.”
You spent hours getting everything to look perfect, saving the tree for when Leon got home. Gotta make it feel like he participated at least a little, right? Mistletoe hung just above the entrance to your home, a nice surprise for when your partner returned home. You sat in the kitchen, decorating a log at the dining table for a while before getting up and taking a break to make some cookies for you and your boyfriend to enjoy. Fun holiday cookies, with a bit of a witchy twist.
You washed your hands and gathered up the ingredients for the average person’s sugar cookies. But you were no average person. From the kitchen cupboard, you pulled a jar filled with dried lavender and a paper bag of rose petals. You stared at them a moment before deciding against the rose petals, putting them back. Do you make a syrup first, or just drop the lavender buds into the dough? Or do you simply wait and press the lavender in just before it goes into the oven? Thinking it over, you decided the best way to get what you wanted out of the cookies was to mix the flower buds into the dough, as it would better hide the texture while still being delightfully floral. So you do just that, sprinkling a little bit of lavender into the bowl and putting the jar back from where it came. You decide on fun little decorations, carefully arranging purple and green colored sugar into the shape of lavender on a few of the cookies before tossing them into the oven along with a few orange slices to dry out.
And then comes the sound of the door shutting.
“Looks like someone was busy today!” Leon calls from the doorway. You sprint over as fast as you can, quickly giving him a series of pecks all over his face. When he playfully raises an eyebrow at you in affectionate confusion, you point up at the ceiling above the door. He chuckles, amused as he sets a few bags on the floor. He then wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a much slower, more passionate kiss, swaying along to the music coming from your phone hooked up to a speaker in the living room.
“How’d the errand running go?” You ask, curiously trying to peek inside of the bags that lay by Leon’s feet.
“It went just fine,” he replied, moving to block the bags from your sight. “No peeking. We’ll wrap the gifts together in a bit.” He took the bags and put them in a nearby cabinet. He took off his jacket, put it on the coat rack, and kicked his shoes off before making his way to the kitchen to wash his hands.
“Hey, what’s up with the wood on the table?”
“Oh!” You walk into the kitchen after him. “I was in the middle of decorating a Yule log!”
“Looks festive.” He moved the log to sit on top of the cabinet he put the gift bags in. “You really take the whole holiday decorating thing seriously, don’t you?”
“What can I say? I like making the place look pretty!” You smile.
“Every room is a thousand times prettier the second you walk into it,” Leon kisses your forehead.
“Oh, shut up,” you scoff.
“What? It’s true!”
“You’re so fuckin’ cheesy.”
“Shut up, you love it.”
“Yeah, I do.” You sigh, hugging him.
The smell of lavender and citrus permeates the kitchen, and you release yourself from Leon to take the baking tray out of the oven. It lands on the top of the stove with a bit of a clatter, filling the room with its wonderful aroma a bit more strongly now.
“What’s that? Cookies?” Leon asks, sneaking up behind you, reaching out to grab a cookie and wiggling his fingers. You smack his hand away.
“You’re gonna burn yourself.” You warn him, shooting over a glare.
“If it’s something you made, it’s worth it.” Leon reaches around you, grabs a cookie, and immediately recoils, hissing in pain as he shakes his hand, dropping the cookie back onto the tray.
“Told you.” You smirk.
“That you did.” He walks to the sink to run his hand under cold water for a moment. Once he feels the pain has dulled enough, he makes his way back to you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you on the forehead. “Well…since you’ve done a lot today, how about we order takeout? As a treat.”
“Okay. How’s pizza sound? Or…actually, maybe I want Chinese food…” You go back and forth between the two, thinking of the different reasons for each. Leon chuckles at your indecisiveness.
“We can do both. You’ve earned it, doll.” Even after you’ve lost count of how many times he’s used the pet name, it still makes your face turn beet red.
“You spoil me.”
“That’s my job.”
And so the two of you sat in the newly redecorated living room, sifting through all the different ornaments to decorate the tree as you waited for your food to arrive. Leon of course was in charge of the star, him being the taller one in the house. Dried citrus slices, cinnamon, and other natural decorations hung from the branches, along with several sparkling garlands, glass pixies, and snowflakes. By the time you got to wrapping the colorful lights around the fake evergreen, the doorbell rang, signaling it was about time for a break.
Neither of you bothered to grab plates, agreeing that neither of you wanted to do dishes tonight. Instead, you opted to just use the plastic forks that came with the bag of takeout containers, and ate the pizza straight from the box as you stared up at the television screen, watching whatever Christmas movie happened to be on. At some point, you hopped back off the couch, finishing up the tree and glancing up at the TV every so often.
Now it was Christmas Eve, and some grinch of a bioterrorist had Leon off to work again. Can’t they take the day off too? Take a break from trying to destroy the world and all that when you’re trying to spend time with your boyfriend? Fucking rude. But the fact of the matter was that they don’t give a fuck, and you had to sit at home, waiting, unsure of his safety, as he couldn’t text you while he was out. In your boredom, you had the idea to come up with yet another surprise for him. You grin devilishly, deciding to go shopping for Leon’s present.
After breakfast, you headed out for the nearest department store, browsing the aisles for hours before settling on a cute floral set that was a bit heavier on the greens. You tossed an elf hat into the basket as well as a few other things you thought Leon might like. A few bows tossed in at the last second, and you were on your way back home. As soon as you got inside, you wrapped all your gifts (aside from the lingerie) and placed them underneath the tree. The rest of your day was rather uneventful. You took a nap around two o’clock in the afternoon, had leftovers for dinner, nothing special.
And then came the text.
Of course, you hadn’t been expecting one, especially not from your boyfriend. Not so soon. Guess it either wasn’t that big of a threat, or he had help. Or maybe he was just that good. Or all of the above. Whatever the cause of his early return was didn’t really matter, it just meant you’d be able to see the look on his face sooner than you’d anticipated. Giggling and giddy with excitement, you slipped on the lingerie set, hat, and some festive stockings you had hidden in a drawer somewhere. You stuck one of the ribbons on your chest above your heart, turned on the lights of the tree, and assumed your place underneath it, waiting patiently for Leon’s return.
Quite some time after you first sat, you were halfway to falling asleep when you heard the lock click open, signaling your partner's return. At first, Leon didn't seem to notice, assuming that the lack of light (aside from the tree) meant you were in bed. It was your hair getting caught on a branch that made him look over.
“Oh? Look what we have here…” Leon knelt down to your level after taking off his jacket and shoes, reaching out to touch your face. “A naughty little elf, wrapped up nice and pretty for me.” He moved his hand to rest underneath your chin, his thumb just underneath your bottom lip as he gently tilted your face up to look at him. You felt yourself slip into that hazy headspace the second the words left his mouth, your teeth gently tugging at your lip as your eyes met his. He chuckled upon seeing your expression, untangled your hair from the tree, and threw you over his shoulder to carry you to bed, your hat lying forgotten somewhere on the living room floor. Once he reached your shared bedroom, Leon gently dropped you on top of the mattress, watching as you looked up at him, glassy-eyed and cheeks flushed.
“Aw…pretty baby. Been waiting for me all night, haven’t you?” You nodded, a small whine leaving your lips. “Come on doll, use your words.”
“Yes, Daddy…missed you so much,” you pout, pretty doe eyes meeting his baby blues.
“That’s my girl.” Leon sits on the bed, one knee between your thighs, and one hand under your chin as he leans down to kiss you, the other supporting his weight. Slowly, the hand on your face moves to snake around your back, gently coaxing you to sit up on his leg. You clung to him, breasts pressing into his chest as your lips moved over one another’s hungrily. Leon’s hand wandered lower, giving your ass a squeeze. He quietly laughed as you jumped at the sudden sensation.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful. I don’t even wanna take this off…” Leon slid his thumb underneath the strap of your lacy bralette, letting it slip off and hit your skin with a snap.
“Then don’t,” you breathed. Leon thought it over for a beat, a smile overtaking his features.
“My pretty little angel…you’ve always been such a smart girl.” Shivers run down your spine as Leon pulls you in for another heated kiss.
As you tangled your fingers in his hair, he slid one of his own hands underneath the fabric of your bralette, kneading your soft flesh. Slick pooled in your new lacy panties, and you slowly started to drag your clothed cunt back and forth against the rough texture of Leon’s jeans.
“Aw…gonna make a mess all over my pants, baby?” He coos, both of his hands on your hips now. 
“Mhm!” You nod, continuing to roll your hips, your voice high-pitched and whiny.
“Such a needy little girl.” Leon teased. “Go ahead, baby. Show Daddy how bad you need him.”
You found it hard to keep your head on straight as your hips started to move faster, Leon’s hands helping you get enough pressure on your bundle of nerves. Your arms hung around his neck, a dazed look on your face as you tried desperately to get yourself off. Leon always thought you looked adorable like this–made him that much more eager to bury his cock inside your soaking wet pussy. Seeing your expression, he felt his cock twitch in his pants. You looked so pretty, so desperate. He almost didn’t want to wait anymore–had to remind himself to be patient. Needed to be sure you’d be ready for him.
Your face did little to hide the pleasure you felt, the delicious friction of your clit moving back and forth on the denim nearly too much to bear. You clung to Leon a little tighter, the fire in your lower body dangerously close to spilling over.
“Le- fuck…Leon!” you cried out, voice quivering.
“Go ahead, doll. Be a good girl and cum on my lap, baby.” One of Leon’s hands comes back to your face to wipe away a tear that slipped its way down your cheek, moving to guide your face to kiss him once more. Your hips rolled harder and faster a few more times as you whimpered and moaned into his mouth, your orgasm burning through your body and leaving you shaking as Leon guided your hips to ride it out.
“My sweet angel…you did so well, sweetheart.” He caressed your body after it was over, hands lingering near your ass and soft breasts. “Guess I should give my pretty baby what she’s been waiting for, yeah?” You nodded in response, prompting an expecting look from Leon.
“Yes, please, Daddy! Been waiting so long!” Your face falls into that adorable pout again. God, it made Leon want to fuck you endlessly, so hard you wouldn’t recover for weeks. He pushed you to lie on your back, standing up to undress. Leon did his best to make a show of it, but undressed rather quickly, eager to feel your hot, wet pussy around his cock.
Your breathing picked up again as you watched him, eyes trailing over his hands as they unbuckled his belt with a few satisfying clinks. The sound had you rubbing your thighs together with anticipation. Fuck, you needed him so, so bad.
Leon, sensing your impatience, hurried to kick off the rest of his clothing, rushing back to the bed to kiss you, his body hanging over your own. The heat of his body against yours felt so nice as he reached down between the two of you to feel how wet you were. You were absolutely drenched, and he'd hardly even touched you! He smirked as his fingers delved into your slick, embarrassing wet sounds filling the bedroom.
“Leon…please…” you whined, holding back from fucking yourself on his fingers. “No more teasing…”
“So my little doll can ask for what she wants!” He pulled his hand away from your core, wrapping it around the base of his thick, hard cock. His other hand pushed your panties to the side, and he stared for a moment at your glistening folds before guiding the head of his dick to sit at your entrance. “God, it gets even more beautiful every time I look at it, baby. Love seeing how wet I can make you.” He murmured, burying his length inside of you. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of him stretching out your tight hole. You rolled your hips up into his, signaling you were ready for him to move.
He set as steady a pace as he could, finding it hard not to just pound into you as soon as he slipped in. He'd missed you while he was out. Wanted–no, needed to feel your skin on his for days. The way you pushed yourself back to him wasn't exactly helping, either. Gradually, he picked up the pace, the head of his length hitting your sweet spot and making your pussy squeeze around him, sucking his cock in deeper.
“Shit…keep squeezing me like that and I won't be able to last much longer, angel.”
“Can't help it, Daddy…feels so good…”
Leon leaned in closer, pushing your legs to your chest in a mating press, his thrusts pushing his cock so deep you damn near felt him in your throat, leaving you breathlessly moaning as he rolled his hips. Your eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out pathetically as Leon’s thumb circled your clit, making you see stars.
“Fuck- daddy! Daddy please!” Your cunt pulsing around his cock was driving him insane, he was so close to the edge, just needed to bring you there with him.
“I know, baby girl, I know,” he purred. “Need you to wait for me, okay? Gotta be a good girl and wait until I say.” You only whimpered and nodded, unsure if you could speak any further.
Leon's thumb kept stroking your throbbing clit, your pussy clenching around his shaft was fucking heaven. His thrusts stuttered, cock twitching inside your walls.
“Cum for me, angel,” he pounded into you harder and faster now, his cock hitting your g-spot nearly perfectly every time it plunged back into your cunt. 
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” was all you could say as your body twitched and writhed, the wet slapping of your bodies together sending you over the edge.
“Fuck, that's it. Yeah, that's my good girl,” Leon grunted, groaning loudly as your pussy milked his cock, making him spurt his hot, thick load deep inside. “So good for me. Love you so much, baby.” He kissed your forehead as he slipped his cock out from your hole, using his fingers to stuff his cum back inside. He steps out of the room for a minute, hurrying back with a couple of water bottles. He helps you sit up, handing you a bottle.
“Thank you, Leon.” You open the water bottle and take a sip.
“Anything for my pretty girl.” Leon smiles, climbing into bed beside you. “You okay?”
“Mhm. Just…” your sentence is interrupted by a big yawn. “Sleepy.”
“I think some cuddles are in order then, yeah?”
“That sounds perfect.” You yawn again, snuggling up to him, and laying your head on his chest. “I love you, Leon.”
“Love you too, baby.” he wraps his arms around you as you both happily drift off to sleep.
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197 notes · View notes
hunterwritings · 4 months
Text
𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐔𝐑 | 𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍
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summary: "Okay so what if reader and Bi Han are in am arranged marriage for Lin Kuei businesses only and they don't love each other at all. But as time passes they soon learn more about each other and eventually love one another as wife and husband. But since Bi Han lacks past romantic/sexual experience reader "teaches" him how. (Iykwim) I hope this makes I just want more bottom!Bi Han content (self indulgent grrrrr) anyways take ur time!!" | requested here warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m!recieving), riding, breeding kink, creampie, small pregnancy mention at end, arranged marriage trope, sub!bi-han, dom!reader, wife!reader, afab!reader, bi-han is mean in the beginning, reader knows her worth! maybe ooc bi-han, notes: ANON I LOVE THIS SO MUCH | also there was literally another fic scarily similar to this by @kisses4lao and I want to give them some credit! Go read their fic, it's so good!! | also this is soo much longer than I thought it was gonna be
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Angry wasn't even the word to describe it; what you were feeling was livid. You understood the meaning of arranged marriages and what they provided, but you couldn't say you were happy with this outcome. You were the daughter of a neighboring clan, you were trained to fight as an assassin and were on of the best in your clan. Your father had made a deal with the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, Bi-han's father, that if you had married Bi-han as the oldest son, your clan would be at the Lin Kuei's side whenever battle occurred.
Obviously you protested and argued as much as you could, but it was already done. You knew of Bi-han and what the Lin Kuei was capable of. Even though you hadn't spoken to Bi-han directly, you've seen his abilities on the battlefield and seen how ruthless he can be. You didn't know what to expect from this man in a marriage and honestly, you were a bit worried to find out.
Your father and Bi-han's father agreed to let the two of you meet once before the wedding, it was the best thing your father could give you from your constant protesting.
You tried to make the best of it, hoping this was a chance to get to know your future husband and hopes of him being a decent man.
You kept your head low and your hands behind your back as you walked into the temple, following close behind your father. You lifted your head up to scan the area, noticing the intricacies of the temple and how clean it was. As your eyes glazed over the room, they stopped when they met the brown eyes of your fiancé. You thought you could practically feel the temperature of the room drop when you saw him; for some reason it made you nervous. Despite your anxiousness, you were stubborn and weren't going to submit so easily.
Your father had began speaking to Bi-han's father as they both walked into another room, leaving the two of you alone in the common room. Your eyes landed on Bi-han's again as his cold expression was unbreakable.
"It's an honor to meet you, Bi-han." You break the silence, bowing deeply towards him. You could hear a groan escape his lips as he gives you a small bow before standing up straight as you do.
"This is unnecessary." He groans as his eyebrows furrow.
You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he was regarding the two of you meeting or the marriage in general. Before you could respond, he's scoffing and turning to walk away. You shook your head in shock as you let out a scoff before walking after him.
"Have I done something wrong?" You ask, now walking beside him. All he does is scoff again and continue walking without looking at you. "It's not like I asked for this, okay? I'm just trying to make the best case scenario." He ignores you once again. You groan at his pettiness and continue to berate him.
"You should at least try and make things work, it would be so much easier-"
You are cut off by Bi-han grabbing a hold of your wrist tightly and pulling you around to pin your back against the wall. You gasp in surprise, which quickly turns to anger.
"You are a woman who talks too much." He scolds you, resting his fist aside your head, his knuckles pressed against the wall. His other hand was resting on your chest, his palm cold to the touch.
"Perhaps you have forgotten what a 'marriage' entails. I will soon be your wife and I refuse to be pushed aside as a mere foot soldier." You asserted, holding his wrist of the hand on your chest.
If looks could kill, you would be dead. But something was different, why did Bi-han's stature seem to change? Bi-han isn't used to this, he's used to taking what he wants and having no one question him, much less stand up to him. So why did he like this?
"Well that was quicker than I thought."
You hear your father's voice entering the room. The sound makes Bi-han immediately release you, causing you to almost stumble before gaining your balance. He quickly turns and gives both your father and his own a bow. You do the same, but your eyes never leave him.
"You two seem to have 'adjusted' quickly." Your father jokes, assuming you were getting along rather than fighting. "We can't stay much longer." He adds.
"It's alright, I know everything I need to now." You shot Bi-han a nasty look, your words laced with venom. His eyebrows furrowed at your words.
They said their goodbyes and bows, all while both you and Bi-han stared each other down. That was the first and last time you had seen Bi-han since your wedding day.
The day of the wedding was tense, to say the least. There was so much tension between the two of you, both refusing to admit you were wrong and being petty. You couldn't keep your eyes off each other. You wanted to believe it purely out of spite, but there was something that intrigued you about him. How could someone be so hard-headed? And as much as you didn't want to admit it, he was quite handsome. Your wedding was the first day you had seen him without his mask and you'd be lying to everyone if you said he wasn't a pretty boy.
It had been a couple weeks now and you and Bi-han have barely spoken to each other, only essential moments when you needed to speak to each other. You both wondered how long you could go giving each other the cold shoulder.
"Your father has called upon you." You announce as you walk into the shared bedroom.
You hear a groan come from Bi-han as he stands at the dresser.
"Bi-han."
"I heard you." He says as he turns back to face you.
"Oh I'm sorry, I just expect a response when spoken to." You snap back with irony and sarcasm laced in your words.
"Are you through being childish?" He snaps, his eyebrows furrowing together as he peers at you. "You cannot expect a response when you yourself are ignoring me." He adds.
All you could do is scoff before turning to walk out. Before you made it to the door, a familiar hand grabs on your wrist and spins you to face him.
"Let go." You demand as your eyes pry at his.
"I will not let our marriage continue like this." He says, is that a plead in his eyes?
"I will not ask again." You say. He releases your wrist as his gaze stays on you. "You are such a strange man. What is it that you want from me?" You ask as you rub your wrist softly. Your angered expression had softened slightly, not wanting to work up any more energy being upset. He seemed like he was taken aback by your anger dissipating and was expecting more of a fight.
"Peace." The one word was the only thing he could muster up, not that it wasn't true. He did want peace between the two of you, but it was almost an impossible task for him to admit he was wrong.
A laugh emitted from your mouth as you shook your head. You looked up at him before crossing your arms. "I didn't think you knew the meaning of that word." You smirked as he groaned and rolled his eyes at you. "Perhaps we have both been childish." You admit, looking at your feet.
"Perhaps." He reluctantly agrees.
There is a small bit of silence before you speak again.
"Bi-han ― I understand this isn't what you wanted, it's not what I wanted either; but it is now our life." You explain. You observe Bi-han slightly fidgeting with his hands, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. He lets out a sigh before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed as he listened to you.
"Just because our marriage is a result of a power deal, doesn't mean we have to make anything more difficult for ourselves. I mean ― I know that I would truly wish to make it work, rather than us being at each other's throats for the rest of our lives." You stepped closer to him until you were standing between his legs on the edge of the bed. You could see him anxiously shift as you stood in front of him, this being the closest the two of you had ever really been to each other.
"That would be the best option." He says as he looks down.
"Bi-han." You reach a finger under his jaw to make him look up at you. His gaze was soft now and he was trying to pay attention to every word you say; this side of Bi-han was foreign to you.
"I am your wife, your equal, I don't wish to be treated as lower than you." You say, not sounding condescending or demeaning but trying to sound as genuine as possible. "And perhaps ― in time ― the connection between us will be genuine." Your hands now softly held his face, and you could see his body physically relax. His eyes shut as he practically leans into your hand as he lets out a loud sigh. You could tell he wasn't used to this kind of affection or any affection at all, you would assume. Your thumbs softly caressed his cheeks as his eyes finally opened again to look up at you. You knew he wanted to speak, wanted to pour his heart out to you in this vulnerable state and tear down his walls to you, but he never did. All he could do was admire you as he looked up. He guessed that he had never gotten a close look at every detail on your face and shames himself for doing so; you were one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen.
After sitting in silence for a moment, just observing eachothers faces, you lean down to his level. You softly press your lips against his, moving your hand to press against the nape of his neck. You felt him sigh against your lips as one of his hands snakes up your leg and grips at your thigh.
You pull away for a moment as he groans quietly, scanning his face to make sure he's not protesting your actions. Your question was quickly answered when Bi-han leaned up and harshly pressed his lips against yours, using his free hand to grab behind your neck and pull you even closer to him. The amount of force he used caused you to fall on top of him onto the bed, your lips never breaking contact as you hit the bed. His arms snaked up to wrap around your waist and pull your body closer to his.
Very needy, you thought.
You hiked up your legs so that you were straddling him, feeling him hum against your lips as he felt your weight shift on top of him. Your lips moved roughly against his. He was messy and gripping at whatever part of your body he could. You pulled away from him for a second, hearing a frustrated groan from Bi-han. "Move." You quickly say as he abides, to your surprise, and you both shift so that Bi-han is resting his back against the headboard.
You crawl up to him and press your lips on his again as he eagerly grabs a hold of the back of your head to pull you deeper. You sit down on his lap with his legs in between yours as you begin grinding against his pelvis.
A strained moan falls from his lips before he grips your hips and halts their movements. As you pull away from his lips, he leans forward and presses his forehead against your shoulder, hiding his face from you as he huffed.
"I'm sorry, I can stop ―" You nervously began to push yourself off of you him but he held you still, not moving his head from your shoulder.
"No." He breathes out. "I'm ― " He begins, slowly lifting his head to look at you, his cheeks flustered. "―not well versed." His eyes are pleading with you.
"Oh, okay." You say with a smile creeping up on your face.
"Laugh and I will kill you."
"No, no, it's not funny." You shake your head with a smile as you look down. "It's just ― a surprise." You smirked with your hands snaking up his torso and gently lying on the sides of his neck.
"You've laid with other men?" He asks with an eyebrow raised.
"Only a few, none as dashing as you." You smirk. "Why? Are you jealous, my husband?" You inch closer to his face, seeing his eyes dart from yours and down to your lips.
"Maybe." He breathes out.
"Do you want me to stop?" You ask.
"No." He once again pulls your face to meet his as he moves his lips against yours. Your hips began their pace against his, feeling his bulge through his pants. His grip on your head moved downwards to hold your hips as they moved back and forth. You pulled way for moment to remove your top, along with your bra. Bi-han's face goes even more flush than it was before now seeing your bare chest in front of him. You grabbed a hold of his hands and brought them to your breasts, him instinctively squeezing down and eliciting a soft moan from you. Bi-han felt his cock twitch in his pants just by the sound that fell from your lips, knowing he could very well cum just from that.
You reach down and begin to undo the top of his Lin Kuei uniform until his chest was bare. His chest was mesmerizing, he was incredibly fit and had more muscles than you even knew existed. Your hands ran their way up his abs and gripped at his large biceps. Your lips attack his once more as he continues to play with your breasts. You slowly moved from his lips down to his jaw and then down to his neck. Loud sucking noises were heard as you sucked harshly on the skin of his neck, hoping to leave dark hickeys on his neck. He was holding back his voice, but with every press of your lips on his neck he let out a labored moan.
Moving down his chest you left red hickeys on his collarbone and pecs, pulling away to be proud of successfully marking your husband as your own.
"You're so pretty, Bi-han." You smile before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.
You pull away and drop down to position your body between his legs. Your hands gripped at his pants to free his cock, it was already falling with precum. He was pretty big, it almost made you a bit nervous. Your hand stroked him up and down a few times as you looked up to watch his face contort as his hands gripped at the sheets next to him. He was using all of his willpower to not cum on the spot.
You pressed kisses up his shaft until you reached the tip, swirling your tongue around it.
"F-fuck... please." Bi-han pleaded, beads of sweat falling from his brow.
You chuckled before happily taking him in your mouth. A loud groan was heard from Bi-han as his hands reached up to grip the headboard behind him. Your head bobbed up and down on his shaft as Bi-han was trying to control his breathing. Lewd sounds filled the room as you could feel that Bi-han was close to cumming by how his hips jerked up into your mouth. You felt him hit the back of your throat as you took all of him, humming at his taste.
"Shit!" He was pushed over the edge as you heard a loud moan fall from his lips as his hips pushed up into your mouth before spilling his seed down your throat. You swallowed his cum as you pulled off of his cock with a 'pop' sound. He looked down at you with red cheeks and his mouth slightly agape, he knew this feeling was addicting and was better than anything he could've done himself.
Before crawling back over him, you removed your bottoms and underwear. You sit down on his torso, feeling his aching cock spring against your ass.
"I'm gonna make you feel so good, my love." You reassure him as you pressed a soft kiss to his cold lips. "Trust me, you won't be thinking of any other woman when I'm done ― make you addicted to me. " You smirk seeing a small smile form on his face, it was the first time you had seen him smile.
"You are confident, I like it." He says, still heaving from his orgasm.
A small chuckle escapes your mouth before kissing him, pressing your tongue in his mouth this time, him being able to taste himself in your mouth.
Keeping your lips on his, you reach down and position his shaft at your entrance as you hover over him. You slightly press the tip at your slit, slowly entering you. Bi-han pulls away from your lips when you sink down about halfway down his cock, his head falling against the pillow as he moans. You grip at his shoulders as a whimper falls from your lips, your chest heaving up and down as you slowly sink down further until you bottom out on his cock. Your nails scratch against his chest as you take a moment to feel him stretch you out.
Finally, you slowly grind your hips against his as the two of you moan loudly. Your grabbed tightly at his shoulders as you lifted your hips up halfway around his cock and drop down on him.
"Fuck... wait! ― gonna cum too early." He sighed as his hands jumped up to grip as your waist, feeling the tips of his fingers being ice cold. You chuckled before lifting up and dropping down on him again, whimpering at the feeling of you. Getting the hang of it, you bounced up and down on his cock as the two of you drowned out each others moans.
"Fuck Bi-han..." You whimper out, feeling yourself faltering as you were nearing your orgasm.
You felt Bi-han raise his hips to meet yours as you bounced on his cock, causing you to throw your head back as a loud moan ripped from you.
"I'm gonna ― " Bi-han dug his nails into your thighs, sure enough to leave marks, showing that he was close. You could feel his cock twitch inside you as you clenched harshly around him. You reached down and pressed your forehead against his as you held his head in your hands as you continued your movements.
"Cum in me, Bi-han." You begged. His breath hitched hearing your request, but he held strong.
"But ― " He began.
"Please Bi-han, I need to feel you inside me, filling me with your children..." You pleaded as Bi-han lost all self control and spilled himself inside you with a load groan as he held his hips up in the air to get the deepest inside you. Feeling Bi-han cum inside you was enough to push you over the edge and you came hard around his cock, clenching tightly and milking him dry. Strained whimpers left your mouth as you slowly grinded against his pelvis to ride out your high. Bi-han looked down at your entrance seeing a circle of cum surrounding your entrance and his cock, almost enough to make him hard again.
You panted heavily as you hid your face in his neck, feeling beads of sweat fall from his skin onto yours. You pulled away and observed Bi-han in this state, seeing strands of his hair stuck to his sweaty skin and tired eyes as he looked up at you. You reached your hands up to hold his cheeks in your palms as you felt his hands rest softly on your waist.
"As good as I said?" You chuckled.
"Better." He closes his eyes as he lies his head against the headboard. "You want to carry my child?" He pants as he opens his eyes and looks up at you.
"Of course I do, but you will have to keep filling me up until you put a child in me." You smirk as you press your forehead against his.
"I can do that." He smirks before leaning up to press a sweet kiss to your lips.
360 notes · View notes
eldritch-spouse · 11 months
Note
Bregs obsession being a weirdo who secretly collected his cum in a jar who knows how and breg walking in on them slurping it like a regular drink
[Oh, you're so gross. I love you. Fem reader.]
TW: Unsanitary (cum jar TW? I dunno, it's gross.)
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He can't really believe it.
There must be something wrong with his mind, with his sight, he's hallucinating. He's finally gone mad and this is what his melting brain chooses to taunt the breeder with.
It could be worse, all things considered. He has to admit that.
Out of all the horrid things a greatly perturbed mind could pluck from its many shelves of unfortunate life happenings, Breg's brain was the least bit merciful- And in the wake of his spontaneous insanity, he's only shown projections of you, eating his cum like it's frosting on a cake.
The monster remains stock still, partially hidden behind the door to the kitchen, black skin shimmering slightly in the pitch black darkness of your home, the only thing providing any light being the open freezer.
Breg didn't plan to get up from bed tonight. Sure, he finds it hard to sleep as many hours as humans apparently require, but that doesn't mean he can't cuddle you or play with your hair while you're deep into slumber. It just so happened that he did nap for a while, and when he woke, you weren't there. This had raised in the male no small amount of anxiety, and he began looking around for his mate. Perhaps it was wise of Breg not to call out for you, because he would have missed this marvel of a sight.
There you were, a decently-sized glass jar in your hand. The type you'd used to store jams or fancy desserts, the substance inside was of a pretty solid white coloration, nothing too off, so he wondered if you were going to cook something at that untimely hour. Said assumption died as soon as little hands unscrewed the lid. His nose never fails him, that was definitely fluid... After a quiet snort, Breg balked.
His cum?
That... Definitely smelled like him.
He sniffed again just to be sure, pelted with his own musk, even if masked by the coldness.
Why- Why did you have a jar of his seed? When did this happen, for that matter? Breg wasn't that surprised, you make him so horny he basically agrees to everything you want when you're touching him, but that didn't make this any less odd.
Some part of him soured. Were you selling it?
Again, his expectations are flung out the window, as the breeder watched you lick your lips, cheeks heated, slipping a single finger right into that mess and shoving it right in your mouth, a string of it falling to your chin. Breg could see your throat shift when you swallowed, making a quiet sigh of what he could only hope was contentment, before repeating the gesture.
He swears to anything out there his cocks never sprung up so fast.
It hurts actually, to get hard that fast. His slit is stretched before having had the time to warm up, Breg bites into his arm to muffle a groan of equal parts relief and mild pain. He can feel the events unfolding before him being burned into his frontal lobe, something he'll keep fresh in his mind for a while to thrill himself with.
It's one of the most puzzling but also erotic things the breeder has ever seen in his time outside captivity. Your short, pretty, now cum-stained tongue laps at slick pink lips and you forgo sucking on your fingers entirely in favor of tipping the jar directly into your mouth.
Oh fuck him. Fuck yes, Gods above yes. You filthy thing.
Breg feels his eyes bulge out under the layer of skin hiding them, stiffening -In many ways- As you almost chug it, audibly swallowing down his seed like it's the sweetest, most addicting treat one could ever hope to taste. You were never the type to waste his offer, now that Breg thinks a little, but he had no idea you loved it this much.
His cocks practically ooze to the floor, he wants to cry out from how hard he is, but the monster doesn't think he could forgive himself if he ruined the moment. The vision. The dream. Whatever the Hell this is, hardly reality.
This has to mean you love him as much as he loves you. There's no other explanation, you want him so bad and you're so taken with him that you'd collect the fruits of your love and eat it. So that it always remains with you at some capacity. Sure, his cocks throb, but so does his heart.
And then you had to moan.
The voice of self-control in Breg sits down and shrugs, telling him to do whatever at this point. His legs power him forward immediately and the monster stalks into the kitchen without so much as a click of claws on tiled floors. He's behind you in seconds, hovering like an unseen shadow, having to suppress the chirp from deep inside his throat when you make a gross slurp.
Do that again and he'll fucking cum.
A fever seizes his arms. He slams the fridge door closed. You're jarringly turned around, the container in your hands tumbling to the ground, thick enough not to break upon contact. Although you yelp and prepare to scream, the air to do such with is forced out of your figure when he pushes you down by the shoulders, forcing you to land on your knees. He'll regret this later, but right now, he's got other, urgent goals in mind.
You can't see anything in this blackness, but Breg gets to ogle you, a wet cock nudging your cheek while the other hovers untouched.
" W- What- "
" Please please please please- " As if he had the mind to say anything else, guiding a precum-soaked member to your lips desperately.
" Breg, I- " There's something akin to shame and timidity in your face.
" Please angel- It'll be quick. I'll come for you, as many times as you want, please I'm so hard. "
You gawk in what would be the general direction of his face, and he whimpers like a kicked dog until you finally slip the insistent length into your mouth, working at it. Breg sighs, then moans, as you focus on torturing the most sensitive parts. He fists his other girth with a fury, intent on keeping his promise.
" You- You don't think I'm gross? " His sweet angel must be joking.
" I think you should just tell me when you want my cum. " He nearly growls, a large hand edging you back to work. " Please harder. "
It doesn't take too long before you get more than a generous reward. It's hot and fresh as it slides down your throat, coats your mouth, chin and chest, the breeder more than happy to let you wring the rest out of him with that eager little tongue.
You seem secretly satisfied. Perhaps, in the dark, you forgot he can see your face perfectly fine. Breg grins as he resumes stroking his members in front of you.
" M-More? " He suggests.
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He wakes up long before you. As usual.
Breg's planning on doing some simple errands for you, but of course, he hasn't forgotten your present. How could he?
There's a nasty little smirk on his vastly featureless face as he calmly walks back to your now shared bedroom.
Your bedside table is graced with a hefty, slightly bigger white jar filled to the brim. Warm, and perhaps clumsily cleaned.
Breg kisses your cheek before getting ready to leave.
He loves his mate so much.
534 notes · View notes
mochiimadness · 10 months
Note
hi 👋🏽 can I please request some hcs for Leo & Donnie (individually) with an S/O who’s a sea monster (like from the movie Luca)??
Sorry for the long wait! Hope you enjoy ^^
I love sea monster characters sm
Rise! Leo and Donnie (separately!) with a sea monster S/O!
Neon Leon
Leo thinks your sea monster form is amazing!
Especially if you have hair
You're telling him not only can you have wonderful locks-
It also turns into frills/scales?!
He will always stare in awe during your transformations
Or as he says
"Trans-mer-ations- eh, eh??? Get it? Like a mer-"
We get it, Leo.
Makes a ton of sea related puns
"Huh, something seems fishy here, and I don't mean you, S/O." *Wink*
If you like the puns, good for you! He'll make a ton!
If you don't, he legally cannot stop in accordance to the laws of the universe, sorry.
Just kidding!
He will stop if the jokes make you uncomfortable, don't worry ^^
He's also amazed at just how much faster you are in the water
Your tail looks beautiful but it packs a punch!
Leo leaps back when you slam your tail into an incoming angry yokai
They go flying
Literally gets sent past multiple buildings
And you??
You just turn back around with a smile like it was nothing
"How- you just- Woah!"
You've rendered him speechless, congrats!
He's thoroughly impressed.
Although he doesn't absolutely love the water,
He still enjoys it!
He likes to go swimming with you
And since he's a turtle, he can stay underwater with you for quite a while!
While underwater, he loves to do the red eared slider flutter motion
This means he'll gently tap his hands to the sides of your face
It's his way of saying he loves and appreciates you!
You two will also have mini competitions to see who could do the most tricks in the water
You usually win these,
Using your tail to help propel yourself into high flips
Kind of like a dolphin!
Leo still puts up a good fight though!
You both have a whale of a time
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Don Tron
When Donnie first met you he double- no, triple checked his scanners because he couldn't believe his eyes
You're an actual sea monster!?
This is a scientific breakthrough!
He's absolutely fascinated with you
With you permission,
He takes down notes and runs tests on you
"How do your scales disappear? Are they still there but just a different color?? Where does your tail go????"
While you may not have all the answers, you still do your best to help ^^
He genuinely thinks your sea monster form is cool!
He's not that surprised at your strength
But he still finds it amazing
You just tipped over an entire boat like it was nothing!
"That deserves at least 80 cool points."
He actually has a tally of how many cool/scary/rad points everyone has
As a soft shelled turtle,
He feels at home in the water
Absolutely loves to go swimming with you
It's one of his favorite past times!
While he may not have a strong tail like you,
He's actually able to keep up decently well with you!
You both often have races and set up under water obstacle courses
You two compete so often, it's actually become a sort of challenge in the lair
The fam will place bets on who will win this time
Donnie does construct some water proof tech to help out,
And in return you get to pull out all the stops and swim without needing to hold back
"Loser has to buy pizza for a month!"
"Oh you're on!"
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Hello! I hope you enjoyed. Sorry for the super long wait!
308 notes · View notes
always-andromeda · 8 months
Text
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·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒
𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ DBF!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 4801
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + once is not enough + “Do you like when I touch you like this? I can keep going if you want me to.”
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ Sorry for the massive gap in posting fics! I've been getting into the swing of things with school and I wanted to do these justice instead of rushing through them!! I also want to preface this one by acknowledging that some folks hate this trope and if that’s the case…please don’t leave me hate on it. I am merely a twenty-two year old baby living her older man fantasy (cue that tiktok of Fred Armisen going “I’m sowwy. I’m a widdle baby.” 🥺)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact!!) fingering, unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties, Joel is in his forties), slight voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, pet names (darlin’, honey, sweetheart, girl), nothing else I can think of!!
(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)
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You'd come home from college hoping for some relaxation over summer break. Maybe you'd catch up with family and some old friends. Or maybe you'd find yourself. The opportunities were endless and you were excited. At least until Joel waltzed into the picture. 
The last time you remembered seeing him was your going away party before you moved away for college. He'd been one of the many who clapped you on the back and congratulated you on getting into your school of choice. And when he'd looked at you with those soft eyes and said sentimentally that he was so proud of you...you had no chance at stopping the butterflies that went wild in your stomach.
His praise hit differently.
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It had reminded you of a younger version of yourself who'd idolized the man. Your own father was decent. But Joel was the best. Joel was the one you'd call when you ran into trouble and he'd been keeping your secrets for as long as you could remember.
The first time you'd gotten blackout drunk during your senior year, he drove you back to his house and let you shake off the hangover before sending you back home the next morning without a word to your dad.
When your ex-boyfriend dumped you over text, who else was there to save the day but Joel Miller? With a stack of rented eighties action films and an excess of coupons for a local pizza place, Joel gave you a night that felt normal.
If you'd been alone, you might've sulked and sobbed over that shithead. But in his own brooding way, Joel proved that you were worth more than that. Part of you had been a little in love with him for it. 
So, as he'd wished you well on your journey into college, you decided you'd let go of that frivolous teenage fixation. Instead, Joel was reduced to an aspiration. A blueprint for the kind of guy you wanted to be with. A blueprint that had proven to be nearly impossible to fulfill.
To your shock and surprise, most college guys in their twenties couldn't keep up with the maturity of a man who was rapidly approaching his forties. You couldn't help but feel a little repulsed by your new dating pool. Which propelled you to focus more on your studies...which only stressed you out even more. By the time finals came around, you were on the brink of tearing your hair out.
This summer was well earned. And you hated to admit that you'd been a little too enthusiastic to possibly see Joel again.
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You hadn't necessarily been looking for Joel's attention. Upon your homecoming, your parents have invited him and a few other family friends over for a barbecue. It should've been a night of ice cold beers and suburban simplicity. But the itinerary suddenly changed once you got some time alone with him.
Standing on the back porch, you watched your parents and their other friends laugh and roast marshmallows over the fire pit on the lawn. As you rested against the wooden railing, you nursed a beer; your third one that night.
Joel emerged from the sliding glass back door with a bear of his own and took a place beside you on the deck.
As doting as ever, he gestured to your drink and asked, "How many of those have you had tonight?"
"Only a few." 
Joel raised an eyebrow.
"Easy, old man," you giggled. "I've spaced them out. So I'm not drunk. Just a little tipsy."
"Ah, so I take it that college taught you how to handle your alcohol better, huh?"
You smacked his shoulder which earned a laugh from him. When his head turned, you got a real good look at him. He'd hardly changed save for a few stray silver hairs and his facial hair being a little scruffier. If anything, those changes only made him that much more enthralling.
So enthralling that it was nearly impossible to pay attention to his small talk. He did what everyone else did. Asked about your classes, your major, what you wanted to do with your degree after graduating. You answered each question with quick answers, eager to get to something more nitty gritty. Because that was what you appreciated Joel most for: his ability to cut through the pointless fat and treat you like an adult. Something that you were sorely missing after only a few days back at home.
You'd taken a long swig of your beer before throwing caution to the wind. "So, Joel?" he looked over at you with raised brows. Then you asked, "You seein' anyone?"
His chest rumbled with a small laugh before he took a sip of her own beer. With his lips pursed around the mouth of the bottle and his eyes crinkled, he tried to conceal his amusement. "Nope," he replied with an air of casualty. "How about you, darlin'? You breakin' those college boys' hearts?"
You scoffed, "No, more like they're breakin' mine."
His brow creased with concern. "Do I need to break some bones?"
"As kind as that sounds...I wouldn't have anybody in particular to send ya to."
That caught his attention. "You mean you're not seeing anybody?"
Not wanting to sound like a complete loser, you explained, "I tried to go on a few dates at the start of the semester. But none of them really worked out. They just weren't my type."
A note of silence passed over you two before Joel wondered, "What would you say is your type, darlin'?"
You wished Joel hadn't been staring at you, waiting for your answer. He had to know this was dangerous territory. He had to know that it wasn't an easy thing to casually admit; the fact that you searched for him in every single man you'd gone out with. 
"Oh, you know..." you trailed off wearily. "Intelligent, strong-willed, no nonsense...but with a good sense of humor...mature–"
"Mature?"
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You thought of an explanation quickly, "Yeah. Like...someone who's developed..." Joel eyed you strangely. "...in the mind, I mean. I don't want a guy who I have to practically train before I feel like I could date him."
Joel nodded thoughtfully before teasing, "Well, honey, if you're looking for a mature man...I think a college campus is one of the worst places you could've picked to look."
"Where should I start looking instead?"
His next words seemed to be testing the waters. "Maybe...maybe you should be lookin' a little closer to home."
For the first time you got the idea that it could be possible. He'd only ever looked at you straight with no inkling of duplicity. But now his eyes were going up and down, taking you in like he hadn't ever looked at you right before.
"How close are you thinking?" you asked.
Tipping his head back, Joel drank the last sip of his beer and you watched his Adam's apple bob. Watched a drop of the liquid gold fall from the corner of his mouth before disappearing into his beard. Watched as he set the bottle down on the handrail and straightened himself out.
Then he replied just loud enough for only you to hear, "Maybe the kitchen."
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The descent into deviance came fast. From the moment you leaned back against the kitchen counter, Joel's lips were on yours. He tasted like the hops from his drink and smelled woody, it was a distinctly masculine combination that had made you clench your thighs together.
With his hand on the back of your neck, he guided you through the kiss in only the way he could and ensured that it ended before you were ready for it to. His nose bumped against yours as he searched your glazed over expression for any kind of reluctance.
"You sure you want this, darlin'?"
"Fuck, yes. Please," you pleaded breathlessly.
Once he let out a little laugh, he turned you around and you braced yourself on the counter. Starting below your ear, Joel trailed down your neck and along your shoulder. One of his hands was making a similar journey from your hip right up to one of your tits. 
You gasped as he squeezed the mound of flesh gently and you had never been more glad to have taken off your bra earlier on in the day. Because Joel seemed incredibly pleased feeling the full weight of your tit in his hand, all warm and willing to be played with.
His other hand went the opposite direction. Down, down, down it went until it was cupping your sex over your jeans. Which were becoming increasingly uncomfortable as you squirmed in a fruitless attempt to find friction. Middle finger running up the seam of your jeans, you knew that if you were two layers lighter, he'd be so close to dipping into your folds. He was so close it could've driven you insane.
His lips were by your ear again when he whispered, "Do you like when I touch you like this?"
Back pressed flat against his heaving chest, you nodded.
Joel toyed with your zipper. "I can keep going if you want me to..." 
You nodded once more and whined, "Please, Joel, please. Keep going."
And keep going he did. He kept going until you'd finished on his fingers twice. The first orgasm had been hard and quick, intensified by two of his thick fingers fucking you through it. Nothing could be done to conceal the sticky sounds of your cunt clenching around his digits nor the sound of you panting as you came down from the high.
With every ounce of your being you hoped and prayed that you wouldn't be interrupted. Because there was no normal excuse for Joel having his hand down your pants and his erection poking into your back. None whatsoever. And besides, getting caught meant ruining your parent's suburban simplicity.
So, for the second climax, Joel clapped a hand over your mouth and murmured, "Let it all out, honey. Don't worry, no one'll hear. I promise." You followed his directions to a T; practically shrieking when this climax crept up on you and washed over you in a relentless wave that had your thighs trembling and your back arching. It was too much and not enough at the same time.
Because when Joel pulled his hand out of your pants and wiped them off on his own jeans, all you wanted was more. Your body ached with that want.
As much as you knew that Joel was just looking out for you both, it felt like he was deliberately being mean when he mumbled, "Better get back out there before folks get suspicious."
With a quick peck and a light tap on your ass, Joel sent you off. Slick still plastering your underwear to your needy pussy, you waltzed back outside on shaky legs.
And it seemed like your mind spent every waking second thinking about it; about him. His voice, his hands, his scent, his body. Each aspect on its own could make you wet all over again. But all together? He turned you into a goddamn mess.
You couldn't shake him. Like an ever present itch, Joel had etched himself into your bones, ruining you for anyone else. And he made it all the more difficult to forget about him in the aftermath. It astounded you how Joel could shamelessly hang around your dad after that night, offering to help out with his various projects before sitting in your living room and watching baseball with him, just feet away from where Joel had defiled you. That was the brazen behavior that made you hide away in your room for that first week.
The night your parents decided to go out on an impromptu date, you were relieved. With some time alone to think and breathe, you'd sort yourself out. Tonight was reserved as a Joel Miller free evening.
Throwing yourself on the couch, you turned on some show you'd abandoned ages ago. You couldn't quite remember the majority of the plot threads. But that didn't really matter anyways. You doubted you could've scrapped together the mental awareness anyways. All of it was focused on him.
No matter how much you tried to distract yourself, your mind wandered back to him. The promise of his hard cock and his firm hands. Every part of him still had you hypnotized.
Not even your own hand could break that. For a good few minutes you fruitlessly played with yourself. You felt silly and almost pitiful trying to replicate the motions Joel had made. But it wasn't the motions you weren't getting right. It was the feeling. It was the thickness of just his middle finger separating your folds before squeezing your lips between three digits. It was his breath on your neck and his words egging you on. It was the edge of danger. It was the fact that he shouldn't have been able to stir up all of that arousal within you. And it was the fact that he did regardless.
You could never replicate that on your own.
Ruined. Fucking ruined.
Too lazy to get up and grab your vibrator from your room upstairs to help you along, you laid back and whined pathetically, relieved you had the house to yourself. But some 
higher power had to be at play and had a fucked up sense of humor. 
"What the hell are you doin'?"
Head snapping up, you spot the one man you didn't want to see ever again standing in the archway leading into the living room.
Joel Miller had his brow arched like this was some sort of surprise. Like you were on his couch in his living room in his house playing with his–
Before you let yourself finish the thought, you spoke, anger flooding your tone, "What the hell are you doing here? My dad isn't home, so what do you want?"
Joel leaned against the archway casually, still with an air of confidence that felt entirely too cocky. "I know," he shot back. "He said he and your mom would be out late tonight. 
Gave me a spare key earlier and asked if I'd check in on ya on my way home." 
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you responded quickly, "Well...you've checked in. I'm fine. Thank you."
And you know the second the words leave your lips that Joel doesn't believe them. He doesn't move. Instead, he surveys your figure sprawled on the length of the couch. Of course Joel is smart enough to infer your guilt. There's almost no innocent reason for your legs to be spread so wide, for your hair to already be so mussed up.
He tilted his head slightly and you knew he was putting the pieces together and picturing you writhing against that couch minutes before.
Finally, he concluded, "You don't seem all that fine, honey."
"I'm perfectly alright. I don't need anything else from you, Joel," you spoke his name pointedly, almost a warning against whatever other ideas he was concocting.
Silence. And you partially hoped that would be the end of it.
Instead he ambles further into the room before seating himself near your feet and gazing across at you. "Are we gonna talk about it at all?"
His furrowed brow threatened to make you fold. But you were determined to stay strong, licking your lips and starting shakily, "I don't see the point. What happened was a one time thing and...I don't want it to happen again."
"You don't want it happening? Or it shouldn't happen?"
"Is there really that much of a difference?"
"There's a massive difference. Because one suggests that you want it to happen again."
"It shouldn't happen, Joel," you answered solidly.
"Then tell me you haven't thought about it once since the other night." Testing the waters, he planted a hand between your knees and slid further up the couch, closer to you. "Tell me that you haven't been desperate to come like that again," he ordered.
"Joel–"
"Ah," he tutted. "Just tell me and I'll be on my way."
You're angry and already aroused. Because he knows that you can't say it. He knows you can't lie to him like that and that fact makes you feel more vulnerable than ever.
"I think about you all the time," you admitted carefully. "So much that it scares me."
At that, Joel's stare softened and he smiled sentimentally. "Me too, darlin'. Me too." It ignited that familiar warmth in your core. The kind that craved being kindled and grown until it could consume you. 
"Is that what you were doing just now? Thinkin' of me?" he asked, eye flickering down to the crumpled front of your pajama shorts.
You could only nod.
"Did you get off?"
This time you shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. You expected him to laugh at the miserable little confession. Teasing and poking fun had always been part of his personality and – more importantly – part of the casual relationship you'd once shared with him.
He complicated it even further as he cooed with concern, "Oh, little darlin', why not?" It was obvious that shyness would no longer cut it. He wanted words; wanted all of the gory details of just how much damage he'd done with only a few minutes. 
So you indulged him. 
"Because it wasn't you. I can think about you...but that doesn't replace you actually being there."
Joel's cockiness returned as he replied, "You're damn right it doesn't. But we can fix that, right?"
Nodding again, you found yourself treading dangerous waters once more. But this time you didn't mind it all that much. It felt natural when Joel slotted his body between your legs. The warmth emanating from his broad chest immediately encased you; made you feel undeniably safe.
This time his kiss was slow, soaking up the time he knew he now had. The first time he touched you, it seemed like a favor. A reprieve from dozens of disappointments from those pesky college boys. This time, however, it was entirely decadent. It was a strange sort of care and days of tension being channeled into a full on make out session that clogged your senses like molasses.
Joel made his way down your jaw and as soon as his mouth touched down on your neck, he was sucking a mark that would no doubt be noticed by your parents before too long. That was worth the risk to have his hot breath fanning across your skin as he kissed the bruising skin better. 
He didn't have to say it, but you knew that he made the mark on purpose. And you couldn't even scold him for it. Deep down, you wanted to remember this for a while. You wanted to keep him like a secret. You wanted to look at it and know that he was the only one who could do this to you.
Joel's voice rasped beside your ear, "You know what I did after you left that night?"
"Hm?"
"You made me so hard that it wouldn't go away on its own. I had to take care of it all by myself."
"Aw, how sad," you murmured and held his face in your hands. "Poor you."
"Poor me is right. But all I had to do was think of that wet little pussy keeping me warm. Squeezin' me. That did the trick real quick. I don't think I've come that hard in a long while, darlin'. And it's been stuck in my mind ever since."
You had to admit that as much as his words spurred up those sparks and gave you a massive ego boost, it also scared the shit out of you.
"What if I can't live up to what you pictured?" you wondered.
"Honey," Joel began. "As long as you can spread those legs, let me in, and make those pretty sounds for me again, I promise you ain't disappointing anyone."
"I could think of multiple people who'd object to that..." you began to think to yourself. But before you could really finish it, Joel was taking your hand and dragging it south until you hit the denim covering his crotch. He rolled his hips a few times, allowing your palm to run up and down the full length of his cock. Fuck, he was hard. And big. Big enough that your brain scrambled, struggling to handle how intensely the want within you multiplied.
Joel chuckled as you put both hands to work, frantically undoing his jeans. "Jesus, sweetheart, you really don't know the meaning of the word patience, do you?"
"I do. I just know what I want," you replied. Sensing Joel's awe, you continued, "And what I want is for you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me on this couch. I want to feel you for days. I want you to show me everything you've got. Show me you're better than those college boys."
That tapped into something primal in him. Because soon he's rushing to pull his cock out. If his fingers had been filling, you could only imagine how the length would feel once it filled you to the brim.
Joel pulled the flimsy and soaked fabric of both your shorts and panties aside. Running a finger between the folds, he finished every caress with a languid circle of your aching clit. After a few swipes, he drew his hand back and eyed the glistening digit before bringing it to your mouth.
"Have a taste, tell me what it's like."
Opening your mouth, you took his finger graciously and ran your tongue along the underside teasingly. Hollowing your cheeks, you began to suck, taking it back and forth like you would his cock. Before his breathing could get too heavy, you pulled your lips off with a wet little smack and admired how the skin of his finger had already begun to prune.
"So?" Joel's voice broke on the single word.
You contemplated on how to best describe your arousal before settling on giving him a taunting glare and declaring, "I don't know, maybe you should have a taste too." Before Joel could question the statement, you grabbed the neck of his t-shirt and tugged him down to your lips, kissing him deep and slow and dragging your tongue along the seam of his lips. When you detached from him with a soft moan, a thin trail of spit kept your mouths connected.
"You best believe I'm getting a taste of that pussy before summer's over," he sputtered out.
"Only if you fuck me first," you promised dangerously.
With that motivation, Joel was quick to take his cock in hand and give himself a few pumps that already sounded wet with his own pre-come. Carefully and experimentally, he slid the underside of his cock between your folds and you swore to god you could feel the blood rushing through his veins. It was all driving you insane.
"I'll try to go slow," he said tenderly. Then, with the fat head of his cock pressed against your entrance, you were overwhelmed with anticipation.
It was an expectation that was satiated more and more as each inch of him sunk into you. Your breath kept getting caught in your throat and it took everything in you not to cry at just how full you felt. You panted, attempting to catch your breath after being engulfed by him. 
You knew Joel was going through something similar when his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head. For a moment it made you wonder when the last time he felt a cunt was. In all the time you'd known him, he'd never mentioned anyone, never brought anyone around, never even hinted at having any sort of romantic or sexual life. But you're doubted that he was untrained or inexperienced with the control he exercised, keeping his movements gentle and steadying his breath with each rise and fall of his belly. 
Even when you squeezed – just to see what would happen – Joel only winced and asked carefully, "You doin' alright, honey? Need me to stop?"
You were getting sick of this southern charm and gentlemanly manner. Both of you were way past the point of decency.
You meant to sound mean when you snapped, "For fucks's sake, Joel. I need you to fuck me. Now."
"Well, if you're gonna be such a brat about it..." he trailed off, returning your attitude.
He started to pull out, ever so slowly. Then, with his hands gripping your thighs tight, he slammed back in. The impact made you yelp in surprise.
"Is that how you want it, darlin'? You want me to fuck you hard?"
Head starting to fog, you nodded, added on a weak, "Please."
"Alright, since you asked so politely."
He does it again. And again. One after another, Joel delivers every thrust relentlessly. With each articulated stroke, he grunted and it prodded at something volatile inside you. Something that threatened to burst as he stretched and split you apart at the same time. You couldn't remember a time where you'd ever been touched that deep. And fuck, you were so terribly sensitive to it, your whimpers and gasps accompanying Joel's groans.
His movements were greedy, aiming to take as much as he possibly could and you were all too willing to give it to him; clenching eagerly around his cock and nails searching for purchase in the taut muscles of his back.
Like animals, you both scratched and clawed away at each other until there was nothing left but trembling, sweat slicked skin and the decade old couch threatening to give way beneath you both. Though there was a masterfulness in his motions, you could tell that was quickly fading as his thrusts weakened and he stuttered for breath.
Joel buried his head in the crook of your neck and hissed through gritted teeth, "I can't hold on for much longer, darlin'. You feel so fuckin'...fuck...so fuckin' good..."
"Give me your hand," you whined.
You took it, brought it between both your bodies, and held it over your clit. Joel quickly got the picture and divided his attention between your weeping hole and the sorely neglected nub above it. How he managed to uphold a modicum of gentleness with it, you had no clue. All you knew was that as soon as his fingertips began to brush those coveted circles over you, that was when the tears began to fall. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on the white hot pleasure that was burning right through you, visualizing the inferno growing and growing until it had no choice but to explode.
But your eyelids snapped open at Joel's biting tone, "You better look me in the eyes when you come. I need to see it."
Not having it in you to argue or protest, you tried to follow his simple direction. No matter how much you wanted to shut your eyes and somehow try to brace yourself for your incoming orgasm, you had to do as he said. Partially because you wanted him to be proud of you again, but also because you couldn't miss his expression either.
You were glad you withstood the urge because right as you started to come undone, you felt Joel's cock pulse. Then there was the telltale rush of warmth inside you as his seed filled you up. His hand slowing on your clit, you watched as his mouth hung open, letting out a deliciously ravenous groan as you milked him dry. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and the curve of his nose before he wiped them away lazily and collapsed on top of you.
Being in his forties, you weren't surprised that a single fuck could wipe him out so thoroughly. And you gave a breathless chuckle when he confirmed his exhaustion with a low, "Jesus, you wear me out, girl."
"Good," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him and running a hand through his messy, damp hair.
You had no idea when your parents would be home. But you knew that Joel would have to be gone before then. Already you weren't looking forward to that parting. You couldn't bear the thought of his cock slipping out of you, leaving you empty again. And most of all you dreaded when you'd inevitably hear him say goodnight. Because you knew he would; he was polite like that, even after railing you into the family room couch.
For now he was yours. And there was nothing wrong with any of it, you told yourself.
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howtofightwrite · 10 months
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Does Ser Arys Oakheart’s performance in The Queenmaker in AFFC (killing a handful of men and jumping clear of his palfrey before being swiftly dispatched by Areo Hotah) suggest a decent amount of martial competence on Arys’ part, in your view?
I’m going to make George R.R. Martin fans angry again and say, no. However, this is because I don’t feel any of Martin’s characters (throughout his work) really demonstrate any degree of martial competence. A lot of Martin’s characters aren’t supposed to possess any martial competence, but even the ones who are meant to don’t have it. Their “martial competence” is roughly the equivalent of action figures being angrily smashed together. For me, his fight scenes/battle scenes are the weakest part of his writing and I tune them out. Martin heavily focuses on “ironic” surprises and subversions of expectations like in the scene with Arys Oakheart, where everything is going well and then the character is just randomly and unceremoniously offed.
Boom. Goodbye.
“Like they would be in real life!”
I’m going to imagine someone yelling that because I’m sure someone, somewhere wants to.
Look, unlike Starke, I read A Feast for Crows and I genuinely have no memory of this character. They have been memory holed. They are gone. (Which is wild because I remember random minor character deaths from a lot of other major and minor fantasy properties that I read as a tween ages ago.)
The thing about reality is that real people are also capable of the following: Strategic and tactical awareness, long term strategic planning, working in unison with their fellow soldiers, and, yes, that includes knights in the Middle Ages. Knights in the Middle Ages might’ve (sometimes) been wealthy bastards, but they had to be functionally aware of violence and its impacts or they weren’t knights for very long.
Martin does not understand how armies and professional combatants function, their purpose, or their place in maintaining order in a feudal society. The irony is that politics are not his forte. His combat sequences read like they were written by someone who spent a great deal of time reading original historical accounts and not enough time thinking from the perspective of the people committing those gruesome atrocities. Make no mistake, medieval warfare was far, far more gruesome than anything you’ll find in Game of Thrones and the most terrifying part is the reasoning behind those atrocities was actually sound. Once you’re past the shock value, GOT is fairly comforting because the majority of the time no one makes sense. There’s a moral lesson hidden in the undercurrent ready to bludgeon the audience when they least expect it and all the violence works from that perspective, and all of it is written very specifically with the audience’s reaction in mind. Martin doesn’t seem to care how it works both on the technical front or in the utilization of violence to deliver narrative catharsis, he cares how the audience will react.
His violence doesn’t feel good, which is his intention, he doesn’t want it to feel good, but it also doesn’t feel bad. The violence just sort of exists.
One of the pieces of tragedy that is fundamentally important is a sense of foreboding. In fiction, death flags aren’t necessarily bad. In a tragedy, they’re necessary. Character death doesn’t need to be surprising to be meaningful. In fact, death is often more meaningful when the audience knows it’s coming. Whether it’s because they want the character to die or because they don’t want them to die. Their death creates narrative catharsis. The catharsis releases the tension, it feels good. Satisfaction through tears. When the audience and the narrative knows death is coming, it creates tension. If you invest early, the tension builds, and builds, and builds until it pops. The trouble is that, one way or another, the author has to invest in the character for that to happen. The surprise can be how the character dies, the manner of their death, and even who kills them, but not the fact they die. Shock value is sudden. The reason to use shock sparingly is that it lacks a lasting payout and eventually the audience acclimates. Too much shock obfuscates the narrative importance of a character’s death and shortens the long term impact of their loss. The impact of the death ends up as sudden as the death itself. Here, then gone, then forgotten.
In a well-structured tragedy, it doesn’t matter whether the audience cares about the character who dies or not. It helps, but the focus of the impact is on how it affects the other characters, how that loss is felt, and the way it’s internalized. An observation that’s always stuck with me is when I was in college studying Shakespeare, and my professor told us that Shakespeare structured his tragedies and his comedies the same way. They’re the same until the fourth act, and it’s the characters’ decisions leading into the final crisis which ultimately decides whether the story will end happily or tragically. All Shakespeare’s characters are important cogs in his play (including the bear.) When one of them goes, the narrative and the characters feel it. If a character is never important to the story, then the impact of their loss can’t be felt.
Martin’s characters don’t fight smart. They don’t fight cleverly. They don’t really fight stupid either. They fight with the combined equivalent of a single brain cell failing to function harmoniously. Probably the standout sequence for me that demonstrates this point is the Battle of the Crab from House of the Dragon. They had two dragons, a beach, an isolated cave system where their enemies were hiding to get away from the fire. They had corpses, and they had tar. And what didn’t they do?
Set shit on fire.
Smoke. Cave. Smoke. Cave. Smoke. Cave. Smoke.
The easiest and most low energy plan in the world that should be obvious to anyone who has ever cooked in an enclosed space. While this is a great way to signal that your characters suck at warfare, the characters involved were supposed to be the ones good at it! People being burned alive as they got smoked out of a cave is more gruesome than what actually happened and would have demonstrated the power of the dragons a lot better. Instead of, you know, the mighty House Targaryen being outwitted by… a cave.
If the dangers of dragons could be mitigated by a cave, people would just live in caves and not castles like they do on Pern.
Thank you for listening to my fanwank.
(No, the presence of saltwater would not have, in fact, saved the pirates. However, the Targaryens could have tarred the driftwood, set it ablaze, and let the tide carry it inside in addition to setting fire at every entrance like real military tacticians. Which shouldn’t be a reach given that half the army was made up of sailors.)
(They could’ve also used the crabbed up bodies for this with the added bonus of it being extremely horrifying, smelly, and gross.)
(We’re not talking about the Crab Army.)
(I mean it!)
-Michi
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