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#it's my first time writing something like this
dante-mightdie · 2 days
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I’m sorry but I must share—what would you think of Cult-leader! Price who finds a distraught, bruised and bloodied reader who ran away from home and takes her to his warm lodge to nurse her back to health and feed her. The poor thing looked like a frightened doe as he found her and he merely wanted to help her but the longer she stayed with the tight-knit community in the depths of the woods the more harder it is to leave. After reader feels more better and wants to take off, she tries to phone her family/friends yet there is no service. Price tells her that unfortunately the service cables were destroyed by a Wilde moose or something and that it would take three weeks or so til the repairmen come. He still offers her to stay longer in his lodge—of course sooner expecting her to help out. Afterall, he provided her with shelter and food, it’s the least she could do. Days pass in a blur and the longer reader stays the lodge the more she starts to forget why she even was stuck here in the first place. What seemed at first as unusual, like the weird nightly feasts that Price and his people make, becomes a familiar tradition of sorts. It’s tradition—he assures. It’s status quo and all the other weirdly hunts that they make at every full moon are only a friendly little game—nothing serious. Or so Reader is fed to belief. It’s not until reader herself gets caught up in all the festivities and rituals that she becomes the very prey that Price hunts each full moon. Only that this time the sacrifice won’t be small pesky rodents but reader herself. As reader is the perfect fit to Price’s family. The mother of his loyal cult. Soft and pliant and perfectly ripe for such role.
Anyways—these worms have been wringling in my mind all day. Ty for letting me get this off of my chest.
Ps: Love your writing, ty for your previous brainrot <3.
no but just imagine him chasing you through the woods <3333
c/w: kidnapping, cult dynamics, predator/prey, dub-con, non-con, p-in-v sex, no prep penetration, dacryphilia, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth
gets you all prettied up in a long red dress, telling you it’s all part of the tradition but you seem to be the only one wearing red. he keeps you sat besides him the whole night, ignoring your worried complaints about the uncanny smiles every one is sending your way
he keeps a hand planted on your thigh the entire time, thumb soothing over your skin as he offers you slow-cooked meats and sweet wine. and when the full moon rolls around and john drags you to the edge of the forest with an excited grin on his face, it finally clicks what his plans are
he keeps you locked in his arms whilst his hands feel up and down your waist, over your hips and ass. grunts and heavy groans filling your ears as his lips brush over the skin. “don’t worry, sweetheart. we won’t be apart for long.”
he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, breathing in your scent. “I’ll find ya nice and easy then we can get to work on continuing my legacy. have ya knocked up in no time, baby…”
he gives his people some long speech about family and responsibility, bloodlines and destiny. about how it’s time he settled down and had a brood of children of his own to carry on everything he has built. the whole time he has you pinned against him, your back to his chest. no one notices the way he pulls his cock out just enough to tap the tip against your puffy folds before tucking himself away
he gives you a 15 minute headstart, you spend the first few minutes still stood at the tree line. you begged and pleaded with him not to do this but he just laughed and began putting on some form of tac-gear. you eventually took off running after 5 minutes, your vision blurred by the darkness of the night
if your heavy breathing and panting didn’t give away your location, then your constant stumbling over would. you could hear twigs breaking and animals rustling around in every direction but you couldn’t see more than a few centimetres in front of your face
you clutch the lace fabric of your skirt, your feet dredging through the mud until you hear and feel them splash against the tide of some body of water. you squeak loudly when your feel the icy cold temperature frost your skin
you crouch down, collecting some of the water and splashing it on your face in an attempt to calm your breathing. the adrenaline courses through your veins as your eyes dart around, unable to make anything out in the night
you spend the next few hours wandering around blindly, an impending sense of doom building up under your skin with each passing hour in which the sun doesn’t rise. you stop to catch your breath, kneeling in the earth below you. your nails dig into your thighs over the material of your dress, your eyes still struggling to make out your nearby surroundings
your breath still when you hear a twig crunch a few feet to your left, muscles freezing when you try and listen out for your surroundings. your heart thumps loudly in your chest whilst your nails dig into the earth below you. there’s nothing but a few seconds of silence before you hear footsteps rushing towards you in quick succession
there’s no time for you to scream when a large hand, wrapped in a tactical glove, covers your mouth and squeezes your jaw closed. the darkness impairing your vision meant you were forced to only be able to feel as you are manhandled into a crude position
his mean grip entangled with your hair keeps you pinned to the ground, your cheek smushed into the cold surface of the earth. you feel rocks and gravel digging into the skin of your knees, engraving their shape into your flesh. you thrash and kick in his grip but he keeps you firmly pinned, his crotch pressed against your bare cunt when he takes his hand off of your mouth to tear the flimsy fabric of your dress off
the bitter chill of the night attacks your skin instantly, making you whine out when you feel goosebumps begin to prickle all over your body
“quit yer squirmin’, woman. only makes me ‘arder when you grind against my cock like that.” he grunts in your ear, bucking his hips against your ass. you sob and squirm, trying to break free except you only end up pushing yourself further back against his throbbing erection
he wastes no time unzipping his cargos, the smell of smoky sweet tobacco filling your nostrils. a pleasant change from the dry dirt you were smelling before. he doesn’t bother undoing the top button of his pants, reaching into the open zip and pulling his cock out. he lets it fall against your wet cunt with a small plap
he wraps one arm around your hips from behind, using his other to pull your upper body up to slot right against the uncomfortable feeling of his tactical gear. he does this just so he can plant his hand right back over your mouth before bending you back over onto your hands and knees
“yer gonna make such a beautiful mother to my family. aren’t ya, darlin’?” his words drown out your muffled protests, his hips sloppily grinding against your ass. his cock slipping between your folds, nudging against your clenching hole each time
“gonna keep yer belly round ‘nd yer tits leaking for at least the next 5 years, dovie…” he groans, jumping you from behind like a feral dog in heat. his lips whispering filthy things in your ear, promises of knocking you up and talks of twins
he lets out the human equivalent to a howl when his hips finally manage to angle his cock right enough to breach past your slippery hole, sliding all the way to the hilt with one easy thrust. the bush of curls decorating the base of his cock tickle your folds when he grinds into you, adjusting your hole to the stretch
his hands switch positions, one tangling itself into your hair and the other pinning both of your wrists to the small of your back. your upper body is suspended in mid-air as he begins a brutal pace of thrusts, leaving your mouth uncovered so he can listen to your pleasured wails
the quiet forest is filled with the sound of wild nightlife and the rhythmic pap pap pap of johns ballsack colliding with your clit. your tits bounce with the force of each thrust as you sob out, “please, john! please…!”
he shushes you, yanking on your hair slightly like tugging on the reins of a wild horse. he lets out a deep chuckles, looking down to watch his meaty cock slide in and out of your drooling pussy. “don’t worry, dolly. been preparing for this ever since you landed on my doorstep. wanked my cock every night thinkin’ about filling you up.”
he stops his words to let out a deep growl when he feels your walls clamp down tight against him, “didn’t cum once. saved it all for you, darlin’. nothing more important to me than giving you a few of my brats to take care of…”
you can feel his precum spilling into your womb, the warm feeling beginning to spread throughout your gut. he takes his hand out of your hair only to deliver a sharp slap to your ass before returning it to its former place
“gonna spend the rest of this full moon splitting you open on my cock, little lamb. then once yer good and bred, I’ll take you home and treat you exactly how my wife deserves to be treated…”
~
cut to nine months later, you’re sat up in bed on a warm summer’s night. two healthy, chubby babies asleep against your chest whilst your husband, john, brushes your sweaty hair back from your forehead
there’s a content smile on your face as you coo slightly down at your newborn twins, your voice still hoarse from your recent labour :(
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flightyalrighty · 2 days
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FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36
Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic
Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.
A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:
The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).
It took two years to get to this point.
And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).
This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.
I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.
So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.
Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.
I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.
Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.
And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;
"Hey. You're gonna be alright."
Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.
Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."
Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.
So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.
I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.
I'm extremely grateful for all of you.
So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.
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yeyinde · 8 hours
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touch starved reader with an oral fixation x kidnapper!Simon who’s all punishment and no physical affection? Please Simon just a little kiss? with tongues? :( (i just wanna make out with this man while my heart aches for him)
by Allah, you people are dogs. i will write the filth as usual.
DEAD DOVE, 18+ | dubcon. kidnapping. mean!Simon. dom!Simon. masking corporal punishment as affection. kissing. size kink, size difference. some thigh riding. degradation + humiliation (verbal). non-con pet play. marking (heavyyyyyy mentions of Simon biting you like a chew toy). choking. daddy kink (but in the awful, demeaning way). manipulation. forced affection. coersion. forced/manufactured dependency. brief mention of Simon stepping on your back to hold you down so he can whip you w a cat o nine tails. yanno. the usual Friday night.
idk. there's something so hot about you, completely naked, riding Simon's clothed thigh as he holds you up by your neck. tongue out, desperate for a kiss while he just mocks you the whole time.
It's survival. 
At first.  
A means of masking the innate horror of being stripped of your agency, your autonomy, by a man you barely even know. One you met once before (fate sealed), and now—outside of your apartment complex where he was idling by the foothold, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the brick wall, head turned. Gaze narrowed as you approached. 
Waiting for someone, you assumed, thinking nothing else about the matter. 
Nothing else, except—
He looked familiar. You think you saw him before. He was staring at you. Hadn't stopped. Hasn't said a word, either. The silence was oppressive. Heavy. Your hands fumbled with the keys. Shaking. Trembling. 
He's pretty, you thought, suddenly. In the way car wrecks can sometimes be. Jarring and awful and hideous, but—
Mesmerising. 
Macabre. And that's what he is. Everything from the mask on his face (skulls, go figure), to the absurdity in his size, his width. The way space itself seemed to move around him, bending and distorting just to let him pass. His own gravitational pull. Magnetic. You feel it tugging on you as he pulls another lungful of smoke. Another. Another.  
(like an hourglass, a timebomb, almost. you wonder what will happen when it runs out—)
He gives you the creeps. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. A visceral sense of unease curdling in the pit of your belly as he keeps staring, staring. Eyes—crystalline under the broken headlamp, washout into crushed topaz—drilling into your back, sharp enough to flay skin. Everything inside of you says to run, but your key won't fit inside the lock. Won't—
Ever. 
And hindsight has always been a bitter thing, hasn't it? Cruel in her mockery. Had you known, then, that he wasn't a workman loitering by the complex, waiting for a friend; or a low-level drug dealer casting webs into the plum hewn aether, it might have saved you. Might have. 
Maybe. Because he was there, waiting for you, all along. 
Life has a funny way of paying back good deeds. All it took for your life to crumble down around you, rubble falling off of a shaking mountain, was kindness. Was seeing a large man in the pouring rain, already drenched. Black clothing sticking to the granite contours of his body, and offering sanctum in the shape of a rusting umbrella you found at a thrift store for three dollars. 
(“here,” you said, chipper. All smiles. “i live just down the street, and you look like you need it more than i do. do you want it?”
and he—
he simply stared. stared. his eyes liquid, molten, as they carelessly dropped, roaming down the length of your body at his own leisure. leering. assessing. it was odd. weird, but—
he huffed, then. seemingly satisfied by whatever you measured up to in his head. his neck lulled back, and he gazed at you from down the crooked length of his nose, tucked neatly away under the thick band of a facial mask. skulls. how could you be so stupid? 
slowly, like he was trying not to startle a mare, his gloved hand reached out, curling thick fingers around the hilt of it. he tugged once. in your stupor, you forgot to let go. embarrassment flooded in. he huffed again, quietly amused, as you untangled your numbed fingers from the umbrella. 
in your distraction, he moved closer. smelled of ash, of mildew. sweat and stale cigarettes. there was something predatory in the way he slipped through space. a preternatural quiet. an eerie stillness. 
you hadn't realised he was there, looming, until he rasped out, “more ‘n you could ever realise, pet.”
and you're sure why you do it. did it. but your hand slips into your shopping bag, eyes widen. heart thundering in your chest. 
“are you hungry? i, uh, i just bought some apples, um—”
his eyes are lavascapes. shackles. chains. “i could eat.”)
And now—
Forced to play this strange cat and mouse of his where he treats you like soot on the bottom of his shoe, and you pretend that it's affection. Love. How godless.  
Protection, he calls it. 
("mine," he whispers, orison soft, into your ear. "ain't go' nowhere else to go, do you, pet? world's big. would eat a small thing like you up. safer here. wit' me. only me.") 
You wonder what he'd do if you told him the biggest danger here was the madness nestled inside your head, the one that sometimes made you look at him like he was your salvation instead of the warden holding the end of your leash in a firm hand. Unyielding—like everything he does. Is. 
Withholding, too. Everything must be earned. Nothing given. Nothing handed out. And you know that this is a ploy, a tactic. Subterfuge meant to chisel into your sense of self, dehumanise you. Turn you into a simpering, obedient little doll for him to play with as he wishes. You know this, and yet—
It's survival, you promise yourself as he tugs on the hook latched to your collar, testing it for weakness. Survival, when his hands—bare, bare; warmed skin against skin, you could just weep—brush over your throat, nails skimming goosebumped flesh as he wedges one, then two inside, hirsute knuckles tickling your pulse. It tightens the collar to near choking. Intentional, you know. He likes it when you beg—for air, for food, water, him. 
Vile man. Awful. 
(You want to roll on your belly at his feet.)
This cold, cruel touch lights a fire under your skin. It's been months since he's last done so. Always wearing gloves when he has to. Using paddles, belts, when you misbehave. Never his bare hand. Not anymore. 
(“m’hand is for good girls,” he slurred, words merging, meshing together, painted with exertion. He wedged his boot against the small of your back, holding you down, and cracked the end of a cat over your bare ass, thighs. Unbothered by your howls, your screams, as the whip bit into your skin. You've never so much as been hit as a child for misbehaving, and now, as an adult, you have a madman standing over you, introducing you to something called a cat o’nine tails—a favourite in the army, lovie. “bad girls,” his boot pressed down harder, heel digging into your spine. “Bad girls get the whip—”)
Bad. Bad. Because you tried to run, to leave him. He dressed you up, called you Mrs Riley, and you—
Ducked out the back door when he turned away for a second. 
Stupid. It was poor timing. A test. He set you up, measuring your loyalty to him, your commitment, and you failed. Failed. 
(“this is what ‘appens when spoiled little cunts get their way too much. they act out, don't they? bitin’ the ‘and that feeds. you'll learn soon enough, though—”)
Ghost—sir, sir (master, maker, god; you'll call him anything he wants if he touches you again)—pulls his fingers away, depriving you of his touch once more. And it's all so stupid. So fundamentally wrong, deplorable, but you follow. Needy. Whining for it in the back of your throat. 
It's been months. Months without touch. Without sensation outside of leather lashing across your thighs, your ass; harsh, gloved fingers digging into your jaw, braced against the back of your head, as you swallow down his cock in an effort to prove to him you've been good. So good. Can be good. His good girl. 
You need to touch him. Need his touch. Ache for it, for something outside of this nook he placed you inside of, denied the privilege of living upstairs with him after you tried to escape. 
You want to. Badly. Your fingers twitch. Ghost sees it. Hums. 
“Need somethin', pet?” 
Your mouth is dry. You swallow. It burns. It hurts. “Yes—”
“Yes, what?”
“Sir—”
Behind the mask he's yet to take off for you fully, only ever hitching it under his chin to devour your cunt whenever you've been good, his jaw tightens, the fabric bunching up. 
You reel back from the look of sheer displeasure etching harsh lines into the hollow gaps of his eyes. Heart thundering. Stomach churning. 
“Mas—” he cuts you off with a soft sigh. Marked with his irritation. “D—dad—”
Dad. A new one. Daddy. He didn't seem like the sort to be into this type of play, not with his sardonic, deadpan eyes. His mockery. His dessicated humour, awful and biting. You'd have sooner expected him to laugh at you—in that slow, deep hum he gives; a little chuff, full of condescension and jeer—than to get off on it. On you, kneeling between his legs with your chin braced against his palm, mouth open, tongue out, as he fucks into the tight clench of his fist, groaning as you beg daddy to give you a taste. 
It's gross. Disgusting. 
It's not done for anything else other than to humiliate you. To crush you under the heel of his boot—little bug—so that you will always know where your place is in this scenario. His little wife. Mother, mum—
He pulls on the leash, jerking you forward. Purrs, “good girl,” and then steps back, moving away from you. Cruel. Dismissive. You hate him, hate him—
(Need him so deeply. With every fibre of your being—)
You watch him as he goes, mourning the loss of his presence already, as he paces around your space, your cage. Broad shoulders barely fitting inside. Head ducking to avoid hitting his crown on the popcorn ceiling. It's strange seeing him here like this. Prowling. He usually comes when he wants you, when he needs to enact more merciless punishment on you for whatever perceived evils you committed (not greeting him with a kiss when he walked in, not letting him suffocate himself in your cunt when he had you sit on his face, not making him cum all over your face quick enough when you knew he had other engagements to get to—), or when he ruts, heavily, between your thighs, cold and detached. Seeking pleasure from your icy flesh, and giving nothing in return but white hot agony. 
Him here, idling in your presence, is revolutionary. 
“S–sir—?”
He hums, quiet. Sits in the chair as you gather the fragments of yourself littered on the ground. His mood is malleable, it seems. 
You push, fingertips sinking into the putty of his agreeable temperament. “Can I—”
You waver when his sharp eyes raze over your bare body—clothes are for good girls, after all—pupils sloshing over the edges, bleeding into midnight blue. 
Your body is a battlefield. Every inch of skin branded with his mark—pretty, thrawn rings of teeth tattooed in silver, haloed in black and red, desecrate your flesh: neck, collarbones, breasts, belly, thighs (a particular favourite of his), ass, mons; all bitten through, chewed up. It weeps when you move, has blood trickling down your skin. The cracking scabs make him coo, poor thing, all bloody fer me? and he licks at them, sucks, until only a pinkish wound in the mimesis of canines remains. 
Uprooted, turned into something new—
His chest expands when he settles his gaze on the sliver of space between your spread thighs. Concealed in tenebrous, hidden from his leering, lecherous view. He cocks his head, considers something unknown to you. His thoughts, his mind, worlds away. Untouchable. 
(only to bad girls, he’d snarled out when you asked why—)
“Testin’ my patience still?” He doesn't rip his gaze away from your cunt, speaks to it sometimes more than he speaks to you. “Thought this alone time might’a cleared your ‘ead.”
You flush. Embarrassment roiling through you. His displeasure is a palpable thing. Heavy. You hate the weight of it. 
“I need—I need you.”
Another toneless hum. “‘Course you do. Ain't got anyone else.”
He's awful. Hideous. You want to rip his tongue out of his mouth. “I—I want you. Please.”
Ghost doesn't answer. You stopped expecting him to a long time ago, his moods odd measures of ebbs and flows; passive and mild, cracking terrible, awful jokes as he strokes your back, hands riveted to your skin, and then biting and caustic the next. Pushing and pushing until you lash out, snap, so he has a reason to push you down, punished and smothered under his bulk, as he ruts into you like a beast, a man starved. Tells you it's for your own good. That you need him. Would be lost without him. 
Bludgeoning a hole into you wide enough for him to crawl inside of. Poisoning you from the inside out with the same nocuous rot that flows in his veins. 
Maybe that's been his agenda all along. Maybe. To make you want him as badly as he wanted you. Desperate, obsessive. Going so far as to follow you home, lost little mutt waiting in the shadows outside of your door until you threw him another bone. And when that didn't work, when the food stopped being enough—
He took you. Held you captive in his house deep in the wilderness. A place so endlessly green that you sometimes stare out at it—unfathomable sea of phalthos and jasper—and feel dizzy. You'll get lost out there—
just like he says. 
As he turns your obsecration over in his head, you wait, supplicant to this man as you rest on your knees. Pretty pet with a golden collar adorned in gems. 
Fitting, you find. With his head cradled against his thick knuckles, you can't help but shiver at the way he looks shrouded in the gloaming embers of a fading twilight. Leonine. A king perfectly at ease in this thick, caliginous atmosphere.
His eyes burn, magmatic, in the low light. Vats of endless ink. Black holes that will swallow you whole if you get too close. But he's poised. Contemplative. Assessing. 
And then grips the end of the leash tight in his other hand. Tugs.  
You obey the wordless command, crawling on your hands and knees to where he's spread out on the recliner. Laxed, dripping with a careless indifference as you wander to him, resting your chin on the spread of his knee. 
Looking up, up, at him, waiting. Wanting. 
There's so much of him—a fact that has been the catalyst to your downfall the moment you saw him standing under the awning; this massive creature. Thighs wider than the width of your body. Burly forearms. Broad shoulders. He's big. Indomitable. Thick, endlessly so. But there's a give to his body. Valleys of softness hiding corded muscle. Firm, but—
Your fingers sink into the soft give of his belly when you reach out, bracing against stomach. Pulling yourself further into the bracket of his spread thighs, inching closer to him. 
He meets your reverent stare, eyes liquid along his lower lash line.
“Thought you were gonna keep me waitin’ all night,” he muses, giving another pull on the leash. It destabilises you. Your nose bumps into his sternum, and you moan at the sting. 
There's a dissonance in the back of your head. A hairline fracture in the line that keeps a degree of separation between pleasure and pain. They meet against the crack in the divide, merging into a abysmal polyphony conducted by his hand. 
He watches, amused, as you whimper, sniffing harshly against the burn. It's not bleeding, and not broken—small mercies, you suppose—and you let it simmer into a dull ache as you slowly clamber into his lap.
Ghost leans back as you settle, greedily taking in the sight of your thighs stretched wide over his leg, cunt pressed, tight, against the rough scrape of his jeans. The touch burns. He hasn't touched your pussy in weeks—
“C’mon,” he urges, hand spanning the width of your lower back. Coaxing. “Show me ‘ow good you can be.”
It's all the permission you need. Slowly, slowly, your hips start to gyrate, dragging your slit over the coarse material. The friction is agony. You need more—
He draws his other hand up, curls it around your neck, forcing your head back, back. You gasp, staring at him, dizzy, from down the slope of your nose. The clasp of the collar digs into your skin. It hurts. It's too much. 
you don't want him to stop. 
His hand is huge. It spans the entire length of your neck, thumb to your pulse, pinky grazing the hollow of your throat. It forces you to lift your chin higher just to let him fit.
He likes it, too, you know. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of his bare hand, scarred and thick; dusted with a cropping of fine hairs along his scabbed knuckles, sitting against the whole of your throat. Swallowing you up. Can feel how much he enjoys the sheer depth between your sizes when his cock twitches, stiffening more
The look on his face is appraising, anatomising. There's a cold measure of distance in his gaze. A barren polynya. You want to cross it. Chart these untamed lands until they're deeply ingrained within your being. Cimmerian effigy burning to keep you warm. 
It's survival, you think, and arch into the palm of his hand. 
He holds you like a doll. One hand on your lower back, pressing your cunt to thigh. The other tightening around your throat. Bare skin against bare skin, and oh, you could just cry—
But this is not what you need. What you want. And he knows. He always does. Knows the inside of you like it's written down—inked on paper. Thumbs through the makeup of you, chapter by chapter, until no mystery remains. 
“Tell me what you need, pet. Beg for it.” 
“Let me—” his hands tighten, choking the air from your throat. Crushing your collar against your neck. “Lemme—kiss you, please, please—”
Tighter. Tighter. The world around you swims under a thin ocean. Phosphenes swim, untethered, in your periphery, ghosting along the curve of his shoulders. He might kill you yet. Keeping going, going, until those brittle, bird-like bones in your neck snap—
You'd let him, you think, muscles falling lax. Submissive. Just the way he says he likes even though you know he fucks you harder, touches you more, more, when you act out. Misbehave. 
“Kiss me?” He taunts, words abrasive. Strident. Scrubbing hard against your skin. “Ain't that jus’ the sweetest thing I ever ‘eard.” 
You burn, blister. “Please—”
“Reckon I ought to. Kissed your pretty cunt ‘fore I even kissed your lips, huh, pet?” 
Your chest folds over itself. Stomach knotting. Balling tight. Unease is a razor blade scraping your nerves. 
“Simon—”
“Ah, ah—” his hand tightens. Vicious. Chiding. “You ‘aven’t earned the privilege of sayin’ my name, ‘ave you? Cheeky thing. Might ‘ave to take a cane to you next.” 
“No, no, no—! I'm—”
“Sorry?” He mocks, cocking his head. Condescension drips from the corners of his eyes. 
“Please, sir—”
“Dad is gettin’ tired of this attitude of yours, pet—” his fingers dig into your skin, hard. Biting. A warning, you know. The blunt press of a blade to your jugular. But it thrums along the suture line to your desire, a wellspool of murk coiling low in your guts. You throb, cunt clenching down around nothing. Achingly empty. “Thought we got rid of it this time ‘round. Learned our lesson.”
The words are frank, prosaic. Had you any sense of self still malingering in the back of your head, you might have struck him for the blatant disrespect. But as you struggle to reach for it, pawing around in the vacuous abyss for any fragment of who you were before this, before him, you know—without any doubt—that none exists. Nothing. He’s too ingrained in your marrow, hewn into your skin. Copper sutures holding his filament within you. Cradled between your thighs, nestled in the rotting vacancy of your heart. 
He knows you. Every part—
“We did—we did, da—daddy, please—” 
It’s shallow. Muffled, like he’s trying to swallow it down, but you feel it rumble through his broad chest. A guttural sound. A groan. Drenched in pleasure, in want. So thick, you could almost taste it. 
He hides his need under a layer of derision. 
“Such a needy thing, ain't you? Desperate little slag like you wouldn't last out there, would you?” 
His hand digs into your hip, pushing you off of his thigh. Eyes skewering into the wet stain on his trousers. A huff spills out—the sound a near perfect mimicry of crushing charcoal in your hand. 
“No. You'd be eaten alive. Torn to pieces. World's too big for somethin' like you.”
Mindless, dazed, you nod. Arching into him. The leather leash snaps against your chest. “Yes, yes—”
His cock presses into your thigh, hard, fat. Your mouth waters. Drool dribbles down your chin. 
He smells of tinder when he leans in close, blood drenched words biting into your skin. “messy today, aren't you? Be lost without me. Tha’s why you wear a collar, isn't it?”
Pitifully, you nod. Eyes full of tears. Each word is a bludgeon into your resolve. Into your sense of self. 
But it earns you his affection, and his thumb presses into the corner of your mouth, unhinging your jaw until it falls open, lax. He holds you like that, mouth lax with his hand still around your neck. The other lifts away from your lips, goes to the thick band around the bridge of his nose, slips inside. 
There's no buildup to it. No lingering sense of anticipation. Practical, detached, he merely tugs it down, and lets it snap under his chin. 
Your breath is punched out of your lungs at the sight of him. Barefaced. Scarred. His nose is crooked; a jagged hook with scar tissue delineating the spots where it's been broken too many times. His lips are—
Full. 
Mangled. 
Scars run in thick slashes over them, denting the flesh in places. Burn marks line his pale flesh. Charcoal rubs into his eyes, highlighting the whites of his lashes against smeared soot. 
He's—
Pretty. 
Like a car crash. Calamity. The broken remains of a town after a hurricane, a tornado, ripped it apart. Ugly, brutal. His face looks like it's been mauled by a bear, a tiger. Scarred and hideous, and—
You shiver. His eyes drop, landing on your own lips. The soot on his brow flutters down, lands on his eyelashes when he lifts his brow up mockingly. Derision curdling an awful smirk on the corner of his mouth. Crooked. Like him. Like his teeth. His nose. His boxy jaw. His lips—
You kiss him. 
Can't help yourself, really. There's a pull. Gravitational. Magnetic. You need, need, to taste him. To quench this ache in your jaw that makes you want to wrap your tongue around something, play with it between your teeth. Soft and sweet—
Ghost's lips are plump beneath yours. The thick scar tissue is almost velveteen when it glides over your bottom lip. You moan into it, into the feeling; victory—however pyrrhic—swims like mercury in your veins. Finally. 
And he doesn't kiss you back. Doesn't make any effort to reciprocate at all, but he's not tense beneath you. Not stunned. Or reluctant. He’s pliant. Malleable. Agreeable, willing to let you devour his mouth, his taste, as much as you want. Doting. Letting you spoil yourself on him. With him.
Because you need him, don't you? 
Like the air you breathe. The food he gives you—apples, always, on rainy days; salmon and rice in a pretty bowl with your name etched into the porcelain—and the attention, the affection—
(suck my cock, pretty girl. don't make me put a gag on you—deeper, you can take it, can't you? take my fat cock all the way up inside your sweet little cunt—my pretty girl—)
—it’s all so divine. 
His hands on your body, your throat, spasm. Once. Just once. Against your leg, his cock twitches. Leaks prespend into the demin. You rut against his thigh, aching for it. Whimpering—
And then he's groaning into the kiss, snarling out your name until it wedges between your lungs, syphoned in from his scorching breath. Another brand in the shape of him. 
Ghost kisses the same way he eats—messy, sloppy; all teeth and tongue, and full pretty lips. Clumsy, like no one taught him how to properly hold his silverware and he's trying to mock what he saw on television. Brumish. A broken, contemptuous pastiche of sumptuosity. A starving dog, snarling around its plundered morsel. Protective. Possessive. 
It coils around you. Thick, smothering. 
He sucks your tongue into his mouth, catching it between his teeth. The sting brings tears to the corner of your eyes, and when you pry them open, you find him already staring at you (always, always, always—), lidded. Heavy pools of desire shaded in the brume of a winter dawn. A bonfire flickering in the distance of a whiteout. Sanctuary from the cold—
He seems to catch himself. Expression flickering. Warbling around the edges. It closes off in a blink. He pulls back. Locks into the ashlar veneer of this indifference he wears like a suit of armour. 
But you saw it. It was there. Within reach—
“Need me, don't you?” He drawls, timber a needlepoint between cruelty and desire. Sultry, low. Husky. He knows what it does to you. How he can unravel you at the seams with just his voice alone. “Need me so fuckin’ much, pet. Would be lost without me—”
“Please, Simon,” you whisper, feather-soft. Cunt throbbing, pulsing. Needy. “Please—”
The strident reprimand for using his name doesn't come. His hand tightens around your throat, unconscious. A paroxysm that has pleasure carving itself down your spine, electric. 
“Come get it, then,” he rasps, voice wrecked. Raw. Curling at the edges, thickening his accent until the words elide. 
Hand to your throat, he drags you close. Closer still. Keeps you sat pretty on his lap as he pulls you in for a bruising, hungry kiss. Tongue shoving between your teeth when you gasp.
His kisses are always hungry, but this is different. Greedy. He devours you whole. Eats you alive. His hand falls to your lower back, holding you tight to his chest.
You moan into it, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Squeezing until your knuckles blanche, joints twinging in discomfort. 
After months of nothing, this alone is bliss. His taste soaking onto your tongue, drenching it in the bitter tang of sage, wheatgrass, and stale cigarettes. Intoxicating. It leaks into you, nocuous. Infects from the inside out. 
His plan coming to fruition, you think. What he sought out to do all along, ever since you wandered close to this untameable Tartarean guard, and offered yourself up to the jowls of a starving beast. 
He pulls away with a heavy breath, eyes charing around the edges; brittle briquette. 
“Gonna be a good girl from now on? Come upstairs, be a good mum for dad? Or am I gonna ‘ave to cane this—” his hand drops, grabbing a fistful of your ass in his hand, fingers digging into the skin between your cheeks. Possessive. It cracks like a whip down your nerves. “—tight lit’le arse?”
You shake your head instantly. Quickly. “I'll be good,” you whisper into his chin, tongue flicking out to lick across his scars. The dried sweat on his skin tastes briny. Reminds you of the ocean on a brumous November evening. The incipient yawn of a ravenous hurricane gathering its lot on the shore. 
Sirens blare in the distance. Fear curdles in your guts, sits heavy like a stone. An anchor. 
“So sweet f’me,” he mutters, words deepening as his head falls back, letting you pepper kisses across the underside of his jaw. Mouthing along the constellation of scars. His voice is rumble. It shivers across your lips, tongue. Shakes the marrow in your bones. “Better stay this way, pet.”
Into his pulse, you murmur, “I think you like it better when I’m bad.” 
You can feel the snarl brimming in the back of his throat. Your ass stings with the phantom burn of when he lashed out with the whip. It drags a whimper out from deep within your chest. 
His hand tightens around your neck. A warning. “Got some guests over f’dinner tonight. Would love to finally introduce them to my sweet little wife—” deft fingers slip across the dewy skin of your folds, knuckles grazing over your drenched hole. The touch makes you squirm. “But if you’re gonna be bad, then I’ll leave you locked up down ‘ere.”
“I’ll be good,” you swear, words a hushed breath over his jugular. His finger flattens, drawls soft, slow circles around your clit. “Ah, I’ll—I’ll be so, so good, Simon—”
“Good girls deserve rewards, don’t they?” His palm flexes possessively around your throat when you nip at old scar tissue. “Maybe I’ll let you sleep in our bed tonight instead of in your dog house. We can ‘ouse together. I’ll fuck you proper—” he roughly shoves two fingers into your hole, leering when you gasp, back arching in a bow. “Know this pretty pussy has been achin’ for me, ‘asn’t it? Gonna breed it full—”
There’s static in your head, ringing in your ear. The noise distorted, pulled underwater. You think you say something, plead—no, no, no, anything but that—but his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pushing up, up into you, notching against that spot inside that makes your head swim, your vision flicker. The abyssal chasm inside of you aches, rages; its waters swell, currents frothing, slamming against the ceiling of its iron prison, and—
Simon pulls away. Fingers stilling inside of you. No friction, no relief. Hypoxia renders the world silent. Muted. Held in stasis, stagnating at the edge of a gaping precipice he holds you over, secured by the fragile curve of your neck, fine bone china. 
Phosphenes swim by. The chossy wobbles.
This distance is agony. You need to be closer, closer, to crawl inside of him, to live in the brackets of his ribs, safe and protected from the world he warns you about. Stone cold. You mewl, whine—
“Gonna be my good little wife?”
Gasping with broken lungs, you nod. Nod, nod until you’re nauseous. Dizzy. Sick—
His spit cools on your lip. Your hackles raise, body shuddering in revulsion—some primal part rears, hisses it’s infectious. Wrong. Get rid of it—
“Not gonna run?”
Slowly, you lick your lips, catching his sickness on your tongue. Swallowing it down until it sinks like a stone to the bottom of your belly. Heavy, for such a small, damning thing. 
How absurd, you think. How absolutely mad. 
Then you whisper, paperthin, “kiss me again, please, Simon—”
And he moves. Liquid in the gloam. Made more for shadows, midnight, than for golden apricity, where the light is harsh on his face, unveiling ruins and ravines; monoliths meant to be paid tribute to in the dark. Your hands lift to his jaw when he moves in, catching your lips in a bruising, biting kiss. 
His touch is searing. Owning. He isn't laying claim: no, you're already his. 
It's possessive and angry. No finesse. All slate teeth and tender tongue. They slide together in a strange game; little fawn stupidly nipping at the tiger's heel. He lets you, groaning into your mouth when you arch back, hips pushing into his fingers, taking him deeper. A pale pantomime of what's to come when he lays you on his soft bed, sweet and divine, and buries himself deep. 
It should scare you. Ought to. And maybe it does. Survival, you think, but you still pull him closer. Deeper. Because it’s bliss, you find. The world around you falling dead. Silent. Pulled into a vacuum. Teetering on the edge of a black hole, event horizon. He drags you in. 
Simon hums, pulling you closer. Touching you—soft, sweet. Palms a gyve. Shackles, chains. His fingers lift from your neck, trailing down the slope of your throat until he reaches the golden loop of your collar's hook. His gaze glides, magmatic, down to where your leash dangles between your heaving breasts.
It's almost tender when he grabs it into his fist. When he pulls, pulls—
Your back arching. His fingers slipping deeper inside your cunt. Obedient little doll.
When he lifts his eyes, the look you find is hot enough to char bone. You taste blood in the back of your throat—
Into the seam of your mouth, he purrs, “good girl.”
—and you swallow it down with a moan. 
(after all, you know better than to run from starving dogs—)
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mismatched-sockss · 3 days
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Follow my lead
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» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!
⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶
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“Never?”
“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”
“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.
“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.
You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”
Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”
“Show me.”
“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”
Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”
Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.
The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...
Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.
If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.
And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.
“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.
You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..
The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.
His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants
“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”
The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.
“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”
You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.
Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.
You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.
“Like that. Good girl.”
This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.
Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.
You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.
He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”
Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.
“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”
You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.
And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.
“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”
You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.
“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”
You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.
“Patience, love.”
Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.
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The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”
“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.
After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”
He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”
With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.
“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”
You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.
"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.
"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.
Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"
You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."
"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."
If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.
“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”
The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”
You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.
The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.
The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.
A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”
The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.
But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.
“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”
The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.
After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.
“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.
A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”
You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.
Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.
It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.
A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”
“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”
You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.
This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.
“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.
You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –
“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.
When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.
As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”
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A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.
Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.
You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.
The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.
He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.
The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.
“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”
You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.
Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”
He asked and your body complied.
With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.
Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”
“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.
He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”
“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”
“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”
His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.
He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.
“Are you comfortable?”
You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.
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So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.
All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.
His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.
Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.
Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.
Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.
He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.
With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.
You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”
“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.
“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.
Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.
You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.
You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.
When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.
Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.
You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.
When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.
“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.
He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”
Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.
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iamred-iamyellow · 2 days
Text
Aussie Athletes
♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!sargeant!ballerina!reader
♥ smau 
♥ fluff
♥ notes: I said I'd write some ballet fics so here's one lol. I'm going to write some ship fic ballet au's (drivers as ballet dancers) after I finish my folklore and Romeo and Juliet series'. Also! I'm performing a don quixote variation this weekend so wish me luck lol :) (none of the pictures are mine)
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First Day @ ausballet
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logansargeant congrats sis
yourusername <3
user14 she's in Australia now 🫢
user3 PLEASE let that mean she'll be at more races now
yourusername 👀
user5 💗💗💗
oscarpiastri welcome to Australia
landonorris trying to get a date on main?
logansargeant don't even think about it piastri
oscarpiastri ???
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
2023 British GP
You walked into the paddock bright and early to find your brother before he was busy with qualifying. You ended up running into a different, yet familiar face instead. 
“Oh, hey Oscar,” you smiled 
“Didn’t expect you to be here with your new Australian ballet career,” he smirked and took a sip of the water he had in his hand. “You don’t have a busy schedule? 
“I do, but the season wrapped last month. I figured I’d come down here and support Logan, you know? I’ve got a lot of training to do when I get back, though.” you laughed softly. 
Oscar hummed in an understanding response. 
“How’s it been there?” 
“Good,” you paused. “Tough, too.” 
“I’m sure it is. It’s an art and a sport.” 
“People don't really consider what I do “a sport”.”
“They say the same about racing.” 
“I guess we have something to bond over.”  you smiled.
You both heard Lando call Oscar's name, gesturing for him to go to their garage. Oscar gave an awkward, blush-filled goodbye and ran towards the Brit on the other side of the pit lane.
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 340,967 more
he says I'm so american
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lilymhe top golf double date
yourusername we are so there
user7 WHO IS HE
user9 y/n x oscar crumbs
user2 crying and writing fics
logansargeant 😐
yourusername ...
user6 @ landonorris please tell us she's with oscar
user8 why would lando know?
landonorris 🤐
user8 @ user6 I'm sorry I wasn't familiar with your game, clearly Lando does know
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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opening night 🧡
logansargeant you did amazing 💐
user2 the orange heart...
user5 NOT a coincidence
user8 AND it's f1's winter break meaning Oscar is back home in Australia where it just so happens y/n dances at
user4 the pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together
ausballet our sugar plum fairy
yourusername <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Time Skip - 2024
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by charlesleclerc, oscarpiastri, and 670,895 more
MONACO <3
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charlesleclerc welcome to the piastri-leclerc family
yourusername I'm honored, thank you charles
oscarpiastri so when should she meet my brother leo?
user6 Y/N'S APART OF THE JOKE NOW 😭
user10 someone go get Nicole
user4 y/n l/n-piastri-leclerc
logansargeant don't break her heart
oscarpiastri I won't I swear
470 notes · View notes
Note
hey babes, could you write smt about bucky (now) and virgin!reader.
like she's ready after a while (they did some kissing and grinding iykyk). but poor baby is too tight and it hurts so she has to stop. and shes embarrassed and is distancing herself from him and he's scared that he'll loose her. but it's a happy ending
luv ya <3
Not So Special First Time » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend/Virgin!Reader
Summary: Your first time doesn’t go as expected and Bucky thinks he’s going to lose you when you distance yourself, but you two eventually talk it out.
Warnings: mix of Fluff and a little bit of Smut (18+), language, crying, kissing, hickeys, grinding, mention of virginity loss, pet names
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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The movie you and Bucky were watching was long forgotten. About a half hour into the movie, you ended up on Bucky’s lap, straddling him and making out. Normally you two have sweet make out sessions, but this one was heated. Bucky has already marked your neck up with hickeys. He knows you’re a virgin and he’s respecting your boundaries. What Bucky doesn’t know is that you’re ready to have sex. You’ve been ready to have sex with him for a while.
His hands were roaming your body, stopping on your hips and gave them a squeeze. You moaned against his lips. You felt something poking you. It didn’t take you long to realize that it was Bucky’s cock that’s uncomfortably hard in his jeans. You decided to take it a little further. You moved yourself against him, his bulge rubbing against your clothed pussy. You gasped at the feeling. You moved slightly faster with Bucky’s help.
“Bucky…” You breathlessly say, pulling away from his lips.
“Yea, doll?” Bucky asks, kissing along your neck.
“I’m ready.” You confidently say.
Bucky pulled away from your neck and looked deep in your eyes.
“Are you sure?” He asks. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.” He says.
“As long as my first time is with you, I’m sure.” You say.
Bucky kissed you once more before standing up and carried you to yours and his bedroom. He gently laid you down on his bed. He kissed you sweetly while his hands found the bottom of your shirt.
“May I?” He asks.
“Yes.” You almost whispered.
Bucky pulled your shirt over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. He looked up at you, waiting for permission which you gave him. He unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts. You lifted your hips to allow him to pull down your shorts. Your bra and panties were now exposed to him. You sat up, biting your bottom lip as you tugged on his shirt. Bucky lightly chuckled and took off his shirt. He stood up to take off his jeans and boxers. You followed suit by taking off your bra and panties. Bucky couldn’t help but admire your beauty. You felt yourself get insecure and you covered yourself up with your arms.
“Don’t do that.” Bucky gently uncovered you. “You’re gorgeous.” He compliments softly.
You smiled and blushed. You laid back and spread your legs. You watched as Bucky got on the bed in between your legs. You felt yourself getting nervous. Bucky also noticed it.
“Are you nervous?” He asks.
“Yes.” You say quietly, loud enough for him to hear.
“It’s ok to nervous. It happens when you lose your virginity.” His hands rubbed the top of your thighs to ease your nerves. “If it starts to feel like it’s getting too much for you, just tell me to stop and I will.” He softly says.
You took a deep breath before nodding your head, giving him the ok to make the next move. Bucky lined his cock at your tight entrance, slowly sliding it inside of your pussy. A whimper fell from your lips when you felt his tip enter you.
“Are you ok?” Bucky asks softly, stopping his movements.
“Y-Yes.” You stuttered. “I didn’t know it would hurt.” You say.
“Just know, it’ll feel better.” He assures with a soft smile.
You smiled back and told him he can keep going. The pain of him sliding his cock in your pussy increased, making your eyes water. Bucky wasn’t even halfway inside of you and it hurt you that much. You couldn’t take it anymore, tears escaped your eyes.
“I-I’m sorry, but can we stop?” You say, stuttering.
“Of course we can.” He says, stopping his movements again.
“I don’t think I was ready as I thought.” You say, turning your head away from him to avoid the embarrassment.
“It’s ok. I understand.” He says softly, understandingly.
Bucky slowly pulled his cock out of you and laid down next to you. You turned to your side, your back facing Bucky. He covered the two of you up with a blanket and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. You couldn’t help but cry from the embarrassment. Bucky spent the rest of the rest cuddling you and comforting you.
Over the next couple weeks, Bucky noticed you have been quiet. He wasn’t sure if it was you trying to lose your virginity the other night or he did something wrong. He understood that you were upset and embarrassed about what happened the other night, but his mind made him think the worst. You haven’t talked to him a lot lately, except for saying good morning to each other every morning and telling him to have a good day as he’s walking out the door for work. He also noticed that you’ve been distancing yourself from him. He tries to wrap his arms around you, cuddle you, and kiss you, but you just move away from him and turn your head away from him. It didn’t take Bucky long to realize that those are the signs of a relationship beginning to end. He didn’t want that. You’re the best thing that’s happened to him in years. He’s determined to figure out what’s wrong for the sake of yours and his relationship, because he doesn’t want to lose you. He knows he won’t survive without you.
Bucky walked in the bedroom to see you folding and putting laundry away. He took a deep breath before walking further in the room. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. You didn’t even react to his affection. You just continued to finish the laundry.
“Doll, please.” Bucky pleads softly.
You heard him, but continued to do the laundry. Bucky took a shirt out of your hands and put it back in the laundry basket. He gently turned you around so you were facing him.
“Talk to me please.” He begs. “Did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m sorry.” He says.
You looked down in embarrassment, avoiding eye contact with him. It was the same embarrassment you’ve been feeling ever since you trying to have sex with Bucky the other night. You sat down on the bed, fidgeting with your fingers. Your eyes began to water, tears threatening to escape them. You sniffled and a single tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky sat down on the bed next to you and held you close to him as you broke down in tears.
“Talk to me please.” He pleads. “I don’t want to lose you.” He says, his voice cracking.
“You’re not going to lose me.” You say softly.
“Then why have you been distancing yourself from me lately?” He asks.
“It’s embarrassing.” You say.
You tried pulling away from him, but Bucky just held you tighter.
“I’m your boyfriend. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He says softly.
“I’m embarrassed about what happened the other night.” You quietly tell him, loud enough for him to hear.
“It happens, doll. It’s ok.” Bucky says, assuringly and rubbing your back.
“I thought losing my virginity would be special and romantic, but it wasn’t.” You say, tearing up again.
“It is. Most people are different.” He says.
“What was it like when you lost your virginity?” You asked, looking up at him.
Bucky opened his mouth to answer you, but then closed it, trying to remember the night he lost his virginity. After a moment, he remembered.
“It was special and romantic.” He starts. “Me and Dolor- this girl.” He corrected himself. “Her and I dated for a while years ago before I joined the Army and one night after we went on a date, we thought we would end the night by loosing our virginities to each other.” He tells you.
“Lucky girl.” You mumbled. “My first time turned out bad.” You say, a tear rolled down your cheek.
Bucky cupped your cheeks and turned your head towards him so you were looking him in the eye. He wiped your tears away with his thumbs.
“No it didn’t.” His voice is soft. “You weren’t as ready as you thought and that’s ok. Like I said, most people are different when it comes to loosing their virginity.” He says softly and assuringly.
You gave him a soft smile. Bucky kissed you passionately.
“Can we try again?” You asked.
“Of course we can.” He says with a smile.
Normally it’s third times a charm, but this time, it’s second times a charm. This time it was special and romantic. The only reason why it was special and romantic as it was is because it was with Bucky.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
285 notes · View notes
rvp32 · 2 days
Text
Whisper of uncontrollable desire. Part 2
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My first time writing in a very long time so please show some mercy. Also, this entire story was written in 2 days after seeing the request. Please enjoy and as always any feedback is appreciated.
Giving out punishments was something Eunbi enjoyed immensely. The thrill of asserting control and seeing her obedient girls submit brought her a sense of satisfaction that was hard to match. Tonight, it was Chaewon’s turn. Being the good and obedient girl that she was, Chaewon willingly let herself be stripped and tied up without any resistance. She trusted Eunbi, even though she feared the severity of the impending punishment.
“Mommy, please don’t be too harsh on me. It slipped my mind because of all the activities we had,” Chaewon begged, her voice trembling. Her precious, wide pupu eyes looked up at Eunbi with a pleading expression, hoping to melt her stern demeanor. She knew Eunbi’s punishments could be intense—so intense that they had once led to the cancellation of schedules for two entire weeks after Sakura’s ordeal.
Eunbi’s gaze softened momentarily as she looked down at Chaewon, taking in the sight of her trembling form and tear-filled eyes. She could see the genuine remorse and fear in Chaewon’s expression. Yet, the power she held in moments like these was intoxicating, and she relished the thought of pushing her limits.
“Chaewon, you know I can’t go easy on you just because you’re my favorite,” Eunbi said, her voice firm yet tinged with a hint of warmth. She stroked Chaewon’s cheek gently, the contrast of her touch and her words sending shivers down the younger girl’s spine. “You have to learn to be more careful.”
Tears began to well up in Chaewon’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mommy. I promise I’ll do better,” she whispered, her voice breaking. She knew that begging might not help, but she couldn’t help but try. The memory of Sakura’s punishment haunted her, and she dreaded enduring something similar.
Eunbi smiled softly, enjoying the mix of fear and anticipation in Chaewon’s eyes. “We’ll see about that, my dear,” she said, her tone a mix of teasing and seriousness. She reached for her tools, each movement deliberate and unhurried, savoring the growing tension.
Chaewon’s heart raced as she watched Eunbi prepare, her mind filled with a chaotic blend of fear, anticipation, and trust. She knew that despite the harshness of the punishment, Eunbi cared deeply for her. That thought was her only solace as she braced herself for what was to come.
“Now, let’s begin,” Eunbi whispered, leaning close to Chaewon’s ear, her breath warm against her skin. “Remember, this is for your own good.”
Chaewon looked to you, “Daddy, Please ask Mommy to show some mercy. I will never forget to take my suppressants again!”
Being the alpha meant that you also had to supervise all the punishments a duty that you didn’t particularly enjoy every time it happened but knew it was necessary. “I am sorry princess but rules are rules.”
And with that last plea, the room was filled with a mix of soft whimpers because of the tool present in Eunbi’s hand, it was a clit focused vibrator, a really strong vibrator that Chaewon loved to use when she got horny but one issue was that this vibrator is too strong. 
Not caring for Chaewon’s whimpers, with the press of a button the toy comes to life. Eunbi places it on the Chaewon’s sensitive bud causing a loud scream. “Mommy!”
Eunbi’s face had a smirk, one so evil that it sent shivers down Chaewon’s spine. Eunbi’s sadistic needs were clearly being satisfied with all the screaming and begging Chaewon was doing. As the punishment intensified, Chaewon’s cries echoed through the room, each one a mix of pain, regret, and a twisted sense of devotion.
“Mommy, please! I’m sorry, I really am!” Chaewon’s voice cracked as she pleaded, her body straining against the restraints. Every word was soaked in desperation, her fear palpable.
Eunbi’s smirk only widened. “I know you are, sweetie,” she said, her tone condescending and cold. “But you have to understand the consequences of your actions.” Her hands moved with calculated precision, each motion deliberate and unyielding.
Chaewon’s body trembled as the pain and pleasure surged through her. Despite the agony, a part of her clung to the belief that this was all for her own good. She trusted Eunbi completely, even in this moment of torment.
“Do you remember why you’re being punished, Chaewon?” Eunbi’s voice was calm, almost soothing, a stark contrast to the intensity of her actions.
“Yes, Mommy,” Chaewon whimpered, her voice barely audible. “I-I wasn’t careful enough… I forgot my suppressants… I’m so sorry…”
“That’s right,” Eunbi said, her hand pausing for a moment as she cupped Chaewon’s cheek gently. “You need to be more responsible. We can’t afford mistakes, can we?”
“N-no, Mommy,” Chaewon stammered, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”
Eunbi leaned in closer, her breath hot against Chaewon’s ear. “Good girl,” she whispered, her voice sending a chill down Chaewon’s spine. “But promises aren’t enough. You have to prove it.”
The room was filled with the sound of Chaewon’s sobs and Eunbi’s steady, commanding presence. Each whimper and cry only seemed to fuel Eunbi’s sadistic pleasure, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
As the minutes ticked by, the punishment continued relentlessly. Chaewon’s body was pushed to its limits, her mind teetering on the edge of exhaustion and pain. Yet, through it all, she clung to the belief that this was for her own good, that Eunbi’s harshness was a twisted form of care.
The room was filled with the smell of sex and the floor coated with Chaewon’s overstimulated pussy juice. The whimpers now turned into screams begging for mercy with incoherent words and sentences. 
“Are you learning your lesson, Chaewon?” Eunbi asked, her voice softening just enough to offer a sliver of comfort.
“Yes, Mommy,” Chaewon gasped, her voice hoarse from screaming. “I-I’ll be better… I’ll do anything to make you proud…”
Eunbi’s expression softened slightly, a hint of warmth breaking through her stern facade. “I know you will, my dear,” she said, her hand stroking Chaewon’s hair gently. “This is all for you, remember that.”
“I-I will, Mommy,” Chaewon whispered, her voice trembling. “I’ll remember…”
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Eunbi’s harsh ministrations began to slow. She took a step back, her eyes still fixed on Chaewon’s trembling form. The room was thick with the aftermath of the intense punishment, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and tears.
Eunbi untied Chaewon gently, her touch surprisingly tender now. “You did well, Chaewon,” she said softly, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “I’m proud of you for enduring this.”
Walking up to Chaewon you embraced her after Eunbi let go. Chaewon clung to you, her body weak and trembling. Despite the pain and pleasure, a sense of relief washed over you. She had endured the punishment, and in some twisted way, it made you want to fuck her and completely break her mind such that it only ever listens to you.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Chaewon whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ll do better… I promise…”
You smiled a genuine warmth in her eyes now. “I know you will, my dear,” you said, holding Chaewon close. “I believe in you.”
Chaewon was exhausted and desperately needed rest, so you took her to your room and gently helped her into a warm bath. The soothing water and your tender care slowly washed away the physical and emotional strain from the punishment. Chaewon’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into your touch, feeling safe and cherished despite the earlier ordeal.
After the bath, you dried Chaewon off with a soft towel and dressed her in comfortable pajamas. You guided her to the bed, pulling the covers over her and ensuring she was snug and warm. As you turned to leave, intending to give Chaewon the rest she desperately needed, you felt a gentle tug on your hand.
“Daddy, please stay,” Chaewon whispered, her voice barely audible and filled with a childlike plea. Her eyes, though heavy with sleep, held a deep yearning for comfort and security.
Your heart melted at the sight of Chaewon's vulnerability. You couldn't bring yourself to leave. With a soft smile, you sat beside her on the bed, your fingers gently running through her silky hair. The rhythmic motion seemed to soothe you both, the tension of the night slowly dissolving into a peaceful calm.
Chaewon’s breathing steadied as she fell into a deep sleep, her face relaxing into an expression of tranquility. You continued to stroke her hair, watching over her with a protective gaze. The room was silent except for the soft sounds of your breathing, a stark contrast to the chaos and intensity of earlier.
You felt your own eyelids grow heavy as you continued to watch over Chaewon. The exhaustion of the night caught up with you, and soon you found yourself lying down beside her, your hand still gently tangled in her hair.
******
Since Lesserafim was taking a break now, the girls had a lot of free time, and you also decided to work from home. After Chaewon’s punishment and her subsequent heat, she had become excessively clingy to you. Not that you minded; she was so cute and always made it fun to be around her. Her presence, even in her clinginess, brought a lightness to your days that you cherished.
As you sat at your desk, trying to focus on the work in front of you, Chaewon was perched comfortably on your lap, her attention divided between her phone and you. Every so often, she would look up at you with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with affection. Her closeness was a constant, warm reminder of the bond you shared.
What you failed to notice was the jealous gaze cast toward you from across the room. Sakura, who had been watching the two of you for a while, couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. She remembered her own time in your arms, the comfort and attention you had lavished on her, and now she felt a sense of longing for that same affection.
Sakura’s eyes narrowed slightly as she observed Chaewon snuggling closer to you, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she showed you something on her phone. The sight stirred something deep within Sakura, a mix of jealousy and a yearning for the same intimacy.
You were blissfully unaware of Sakura’s growing discontent. You chuckled at something Chaewon had shown you, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as she shifted on your lap. Chaewon’s presence was calming, and her happiness was contagious.
Sakura's plan to forego her suppressants had seemed foolproof in her mind. She was certain that without the medication dulling her heat, your attention would naturally gravitate towards her. But as the day of her heat arrived, her anticipation turned to disappointment when she realized you were absent.
With each passing hour, Sakura's discomfort grew more pronounced. The familiar ache of her heat intensified, and she found herself writhing in pain, desperate for relief. She needed you desperately, but you were nowhere to be found.
In a haze of agony, Sakura stumbled to your room, her mind clouded with the need for your presence. She rummaged through your belongings, searching desperately for anything that might bring her solace. Finally, she found a circle of your used clothes and clutched the one you had worn most recently to her nose, seeking the faint trace of your scent.
As the familiar fragrance enveloped her, Sakura felt a momentary reprieve from the torment of her heat. Your scent, though distant, offered a semblance of comfort, easing the ache in her body and calming her racing heart.
In the solitude of your room, surrounded by reminders of your presence, Sakura found a fleeting sense of peace amidst the turmoil of her heat. But deep down, she longed for more than just the memory of you. She yearned for your touch, your warmth, and your soothing words to chase away the agony and loneliness that threatened to consume her.
However, that peace didn't last long as Sakura's heat intensified, and her body began to release a potent scent designed to attract any alpha nearby to satisfy her. The air grew thick with her pheromones, her scent a desperate call for relief.
Luckily for Sakura, there was an alpha currently in the manor, but this alpha happened to be none other than Kazuha. Kazuha was known for her calm and gentle demeanor, often mistaken for a beta due to her docility and non-aggressive nature. Despite her alpha status, she rarely displayed the dominant traits typically associated with it.
As Kazuha moved through the halls, the scent hit her with unexpected intensity. Her senses sharpened, and her normally placid nature was momentarily overridden by the primal urge to respond to the call of a distressed omega. Following the scent, she found herself drawn to your room, where Sakura lay surrounded by your clothes, her body wracked with the torment of her heat.
Kazuha entered the room cautiously, her eyes widening at the sight of Sakura. "Unnie," she called softly, her voice tinged with concern. "Are you okay?"
Sakura's head snapped up, her eyes glazed with desperation. "K-Kazuha," she whimpered, her voice breaking. "Please... I need help."
Kazuha hesitated for a moment, her usual calm exterior faltering as the scent overwhelmed her senses. She stepped closer, her instincts urging her to provide the relief Sakura so desperately needed.
"Unnie, I... I'm here to help," Kazuha said gently, kneeling beside her. "What do you need?"
Sakura's hands clutched at Kazuha's shirt, pulling her closer. "I need you," she pleaded, her voice barely more than a breathless whisper. "Please, Kazuha, I can't take it anymore."
Kazuha's heart pounded in her chest, the gravity of the situation sinking in. She knew she had to act, to provide the comfort and relief Sakura was so desperately seeking. Leaning in, she brushed a strand of hair away from Sakura's face, her touch tender and reassuring.
"Okay, Sakura," Kazuha whispered, her voice filled with determination. "I'll take care of you."
With gentle care, Kazuha wrapped her arms around Sakura, pulling her close. Her presence, though different from yours, offered a new kind of solace. The room filled with a mix of their scents, Kazuha's alpha pheromones blending with Sakura's desperate omega call, but this wasn’t enough for Sakura, she needed something more intense.
“Kazuha, it’s so hot down there please do something!” Sakura pleaded. Kazuha being the innocent alpha that she is didn’t know what to do but the overpowering pheromones were clouding Kazuha’s ability to think. 
“O-okay, unnie,” Kazuha said before gently pulling down Sakura's shorts to reveal a pair of completely drenched panties. It was a sight that Kazuha was shocked by but also desperately wanted a taste. 
“Fast, please it hurts,” Sakura whined, not wasting any more time, Kazuha dived into the the awaiting cave. The touch of her tongue caused a massive relief for Sakura. 
“Nghh, it feels so good,” Sakura moaned, as her fingers got tangled in Kazuha’s hair. The continuous ministrations of Kazuha were increasing the pleasure Sakura felt. 
Though it was the first time that Kazuha had ever been intimate with a woman, she was doing an amazing job, most probably because of strong Pheremones that were controlling her. Sakura tastes so sweet almost like a drug, addictive and Kazuha was enjoying every single second of this drug. 
“Keep going baby, you are eating Unnie so well.” Sakura moaned as her back arched signalling the impending orgasm. “F-fuckkkkk!” Sakura screamed as she came all over Kazuha’s face, being the good girl that she is Kazuha licked up every single drop. 
This was not enough to satisfy Sakura and to make the situation more interesting Kazuha had a hard-on. “Baby, please take off those pants and come fuck unnie,” Sakura said while staring into Kazuha’s eyes. 
Kazuha however was nervous and scared. It was not only because it was her first time but also because Kazuha was very insecure about her cock and didn’t want anyone to see it. 
Fear and anxiety were written all over Kazuha's face. She didn't want to get teased or judged for stepping into a role she rarely embraced, so she instinctively began to move away from Sakura. However, Sakura's desperation overshadowed any sense of decorum or restraint. Her mind was clouded with the overwhelming need to satiate the immense heat building up in her body.
As Kazuha tried to back away, her heart pounding in her chest, she found herself pressed against the wall, trapped by the intensity of the situation. Sakura, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and yearning, crawled toward Kazuha with a single-minded determination.
"K-Kazuha," Sakura's voice trembled, thick with need. "Please... I can't take it anymore."
Kazuha's breath hitched as Sakura closed the distance between them. Despite her fears, she couldn't ignore the primal pull of Sakura's distress. She hesitated, her body tense, but the sight of Sakura's pleading eyes and the raw desperation in her voice stirred something deep within her.
"Unnie, I..." Kazuha stammered, her voice faltering. She wanted to help, but the fear of what this moment represented held her back.
Sakura reached out, her fingers trembling as she touched Kazuha's arm. "Please, Kazuha. I need you," she whispered, her voice breaking.
“Unnie I will do anything but that, please,” Kazuha begged. But Sakura was not interested in listening. Sakura pulls down Kazuha’s pants along with her underwear to find Kazuha’s cock in all its glory.
Sakura was surprised. What she was currently faced with was different from what she was expecting. Kazuha was not packing a huge cock like she expected in fact it was probably one of the smallest that Sakura had ever seen, this also explains why Kazuha is such a docile alpha. But lucky for Kazuha, Sakura couldn’t care about the fact that her dick was only 4 inches because she desperately needed something inside of her and for now Kazuha’s cock should be enough. 
Without any words being said, Sakura pushes Kazuha onto the floor and mounts her. Shocked by the sudden action Kazuha lets out a small yelp, she still tries to get Sakura off her because she doesn’t know what to do but Sakura overpowers her and she got she wants. Sakura starts to ride Kazuha like there is no tomorrow and this makes Kazuha’s life very hard. She is holding on for dear life, trying her best not to cum inside Sakura and breed her. 
“Unnie, please get off!! I am going to cum!!” Kazuha screams, but it is to no avail as Sakura continues to bounce on Kazuha’s tiny cock. No matter how much strength Kazuha uses she is unable to push Sakura away from her before she cums. 
All of a sudden a savior appears. You manage to pull Sakura off Kazuha just before it’s too late. Sakura whines at the loss of body contact and pleasure but you hold her down and turn to Kazuha to notice that you may have just ruined her orgasm. 
Kazuha notices you staring and immediately covers herself with her hands. “Kazuha baby, you should leave before this wild one gets to you again,” Heeding your warning Kazuha grabs her clothes and runs out of the room. 
After the room is empty with just you and Sakura, you turn your attention to the girl who has begun to rub herself on your leg. But a stern look from you makes her stop all her movements. "Princess, how is it that you forgot to take your suppressants?" you question Sakura.
Too shy to tell you the actual reason, Sakura stays silent and hides herself behind your leg, her face flushing with embarrassment. You gently lift her chin, forcing her to meet your gaze. "Princess, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I know how much pain you are going through and I will take away all that pain if you be honest with me here," you say, trying to convince her to answer.
Sakura's eyes flicker with uncertainty, her breath coming in short, quick gasps as she struggles with her confession. Finally, she mumbles, "Y-you."
"Princess, you have to be more clear," you say, with a touch of sternness in your voice to encourage her.
Sakura's face turns a deeper shade of red, and she averts her gaze, whispering, "I wanted your attention. I thought... if I didn't take my suppressants, you would spend more time with me."
Her confession hangs in the air, her vulnerability laid bare before you. Your stern expression softens as you take in her words, understanding the depth of her need for your affection.
"Oh, Sakura," you say, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "You don’t have to put yourself through such pain just to get my attention. I'm always here for you."
She clings to you, relief mingling with her lingering discomfort. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice muffled against your chest.
You stroke her hair soothingly. "It's okay, Princess. Let's focus on making you feel better now. But promise me, next time, you'll talk to me instead of putting yourself through this, alright?"
Sakura nods, her arms tightening around you. "I promise," she murmurs.
"Good girl," you say softly, kissing the top of her head. "Now, let's take care of you."
Sakura nods her head and hugs you tightly. You pat her head, playing with her hair but soon the wholesome moment comes to an end as Sakura starts to grind on you.
“Princess, look at me,” you say, gentleness in your voice. Sakura looks at you, her eyes filled with expectation and need. Both of you maintain eye contact for a few seconds, the air between you thick with anticipation. Slowly, you lean toward each other, and finally, your lips meet in a kiss filled with passion and care.
Sakura's lips are soft and warm against yours, and she melts into the kiss, her desperation and longing pouring into the embrace. The kiss deepens, your arms wrapping around her to pull her closer. Sakura's need to be closer to you becomes overwhelming, and she jumps onto you, wrapping her legs around your torso. You support her effortlessly, one hand on her back and the other cradling her head.
The intensity of the kiss grows as you hold her, each of you savoring the connection and the relief it brings. Sakura's fingers tangle in your hair, her body pressed tightly against yours. The heat of the moment seems to erase all the pain and anxiety she felt earlier, replaced by the comforting and exhilarating presence of you.
You move to sit on the edge of the bed, Sakura still clinging to you. The kiss breaks for a moment, both of you breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other. "I've needed this," Sakura whispers, her voice filled with emotion. "I've needed you."
You gently stroke her hair, your eyes soft with affection. "I'm here, Princess. Always."
This time, the kiss is slower, more tender, as you take the time to explore each other's emotions through the connection. You can feel the gratitude and love radiating from Sakura, her body relaxing into yours as the last remnants of her heat begin to subside.
You hold her close, savoring the intimacy and the bond you share. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of warmth and affection. The room is filled with the quiet sounds of your breathing and the soft rustle of clothing as you hold each other. 
After breaking the kiss, Sakura leans in and places soft kisses on your neck, her breath warm against your skin. Each kiss sends shivers down your spine, and you feel her growing boldness as those kisses slowly turn into gentle bites. You can sense her need to express her desire and the remnants of her heat driving her actions.
Wanting to keep your promise, you let her do whatever she wants. Your hands rest on her back, providing a comforting presence as she explores her feelings and desires through her actions.
"Sakura," you murmur, your voice soothing and filled with affection. "It's okay. I'm here for you."
Encouraged by your words, Sakura continues, her bites growing a bit more assertive, leaving small marks on your skin. Each bite is followed by a tender kiss, a mixture of passion and tenderness that reflects her complex emotions. You can feel her anxiety and need for reassurance in every touch, every kiss, and every bite.
As she nips at your neck, you hold her closer, your hands gently stroking her back to provide a sense of security. Her breaths come in short, quick gasps, her body pressed tightly against yours. You can feel her heart pounding, matching the rhythm of your own.
"Sakura," you whisper, lifting her chin so she looks into your eyes. "You don't have to hold back. Just be yourself."
Her eyes, filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, meet yours. She nods slightly, her lips parting as she takes a deep breath. "I need you," she confesses, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I need to feel close to you."
You smile gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I'm not going anywhere," you assure her. "You can have all of me."
Sakura's eyes soften with gratitude, and she leans in to kiss you again, this time with a tenderness that speaks volumes. The bites on your neck become more deliberate, a way for her to mark her territory and express her deep-seated need for connection.
You feel the intensity of her emotions and respond with equal tenderness, holding her close and allowing her to take what she needs from you. The room is filled with the quiet sounds of your breathing, the soft rustle of clothing, and the occasional sigh of contentment as you lose yourselves in the moment.
Slowly, you begin to take off what little clothes Sakura has left, your movements careful and tender. She helps you out of yours, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation and excitement. As each piece of clothing falls away, the intimacy between you deepens, a silent communication of trust and affection.
With a gentle nudge, you both move toward the bed. The soft sheets feel cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of your body. Pulling away from the kiss, you hear a small whine escape Sakura's lips, her eyes fluttering open with a mix of longing and frustration.
But before she can voice her complaint, you place her gently on the bed, and another deep, passionate kiss quickly muffles her whines. Your lips meld together, the urgency of the moment heightening the connection between you. Sakura's hands grip your shoulders, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear.
You respond by deepening the kiss, pouring all your affection and reassurance into the embrace. Your hands roam her body, tracing delicate patterns along her skin, eliciting soft gasps and shivers from Sakura. She arches into your touch, her body responding instinctively to every caress.
Breaking the kiss for a moment, you look into her eyes, your voice soft and filled with love. "Princess, you're everything to me."
Sakura's eyes shine with emotion, her hands cupping your face. "Daddy you can do anything you want," she whispers, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I just need you."
You place your hard member on her entrance teasing it a little before lubing it up with all the wetness from Sakura’s drenched pussy. “Daddy please don’t tease!” Sakura whined. 
Not wanting to keep her waiting longer, you slowly insert your cock into her tight pussy. Sakura occasionally let out moans as you pushed into her. Once you bottomed out you were still letting her adjust and also enjoying how tight her pussy was. 
“Daddy you can move now,” Sakura said. The missionary position lets you control your pace well and also hit spots that have never been touched. 
“Harder, Daddy, pleasee,” Sakura begged and you obliged increasing your pace and the strength of your thrusts. 
“Nghhh you are filling me up so well, Daddy,” Sakura moaned 
“Fuck, Princess, you are doing such a good job taking my dick. Your pussy is so tight and perfect.” You compliment Sakura causing her pussy to tighten a little. 
Increasing your pace, you ask “Who does this Pussy belong to princess?” 
Sakura was in a realm of her own, her mind completely filled with pleasure and unable to comprehend anything you were saying. So you stop 
“No no no, Daddy why did you stop!!” Sakura screams.
“Answer me, princess, Who thrusts Does thrusts This thrusts Pussy thrusts Belongs to thrusts?” You ask
“You! Daddy, this pussy belongs to only you!!!” Sakura screams as your thrusts get harsher. The tightness pushes you closer to the edge. 
“Princess, Daddy is going to cum soon and you are going to lick up every single drop of it right?” You asked as you continued to fuck the living crap out of Sakura. 
“Yes, Daddy. I will make sure not to waste a single drop of it.” Sakura replied. Her movements are in complete sync with yours. Both of you were chasing the peaks of your orgasm. 
“I’m cumming princess,” you announce and try to pull out of her pussy but are unable to do so because Sakura has managed to wrap her legs around you.
“Cum for me Daddy, breed me, let me have your children, please. I need them so fucking badly!!” Sakura screamed as her legs gripped tighter around your body.
Unable to hold on much longer you end up cumming inside of Sakura. “Fuck!!” You moan as you release all your cum deep inside of Sakura’s pussy.
“What the fuck Sakura, you are going to get pregnant!” you said. 
“Yes, Daddy, maybe then you will pay more attention to me than the other girls!” Sakura replied with a smirk on her face.
Not wanting to argue further, exhaustion took over both of you, and you soon fell into a deep sleep. The warmth of the moment and the emotional intensity had drained you completely.
Hours later, you were awakened by a sudden weight being placed on your chest. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you looked down to see none other than Wonyoung sitting on you, her expression a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.
This was probably the worst situation in which you could get caught by Wonyoung, who was extremely possessive. The fact that your neck was covered with marks and Sakura was sleeping next to you was going to be the death of you. Wonyoung's eyes darted from the marks on your neck to Sakura, her jaw tightening with barely contained anger.
“What the hell is this?” Wonyoung’s voice was sharp, her tone dripping with jealousy and hurt.
You could feel the tension rising, and you knew you had to tread carefully. “Wonyoung, it’s not what it looks like,” you began, trying to sound as calm as possible.
“Really?” she said, her tone icy. “Because it looks like you and Sakura had a lot of fun without me.”
Sakura stirred next to you, her eyes fluttering open. She immediately sensed the tension in the room and sat up, her smirk from earlier fading as she took in Wonyoung’s furious expression.
“Wonyoung, it’s not like that,” Sakura said softly, trying to defuse the situation. “I just... I needed Daddy last night. It was a tough day.”
Wonyoung’s eyes narrowed, her possessive streak flaring up. “And you think you’re the only one who needs him? We all need him, Sakura. You can’t just monopolize him like this.”
You reached out to gently touch Wonyoung’s arm, hoping to calm her down. “Wonyoung, please. Let’s talk about this calmly.”
She pulled her arm away, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest. “Calmly? How am I supposed to be calm when you’re covered in her marks?”
Sakura looked genuinely remorseful, and you could see that she regretted the way things had escalated. “Wonyoung, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”
Wonyoung’s eyes softened slightly at Sakura’s apology, but she was still visibly upset. “It’s going to take a lot more than just a verbal apology from the both of you,” she said, a smirk plastered all over her face. This spelled nothing good for the future, but you had no choice but to listen because this brat doesn’t take no for an answer and is also way too cute for you to say no to.
You sighed inwardly, knowing that Wonyoung had the upper hand. “What do you want, Wonyoung?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm and collected.
Wonyoung's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she replied, her voice sweet but with an edge of playful menace. “But first, I want both of you to admit that you were wrong and that you’ll make it up to me.”
Sakura shifted beside you, looking a bit nervous but also curious. “Alright, Wonyoung,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “I’m sorry for making you feel left out. I promise to make it up to you.”
You nodded in agreement, meeting Wonyoung’s gaze. “I’m sorry too, Wonyoung. I didn’t mean to hurt you. We’ll both make it up to you, I promise.”
Wonyoung’s smirk turned into a genuine smile, though a hint of mischief still lingered in her eyes. “Good. Now, let’s start with something simple. I want you both to pamper me today. I get to be the center of attention, and you two will do whatever I say. Deal?”
Sakura and you exchanged a glance, both of you knowing that you had little choice in the matter. “Deal,” you said in unison.
Wonyoung clapped her hands together, her mood brightening. “Great! First, I want a nice breakfast in bed. And then, we’ll see what else I can come up with,” she said, her tone almost teasing.
You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, even though you knew she was taking full advantage of the situation. “Alright, breakfast in bed it is,” you said, getting up and pulling on some clothes.
Sakura followed suit, giving Wonyoung a small, playful glare. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Wonyoung giggled, the sound light and infectious. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But it’s only fair, right?”
You couldn’t argue with that, and as you made your way to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast, you felt a sense of relief that the immediate tension had been diffused. Wonyoung might be a handful, but her playful nature and the bond you all shared made every challenge worth it.
As the day went on, you and Sakura did your best to pamper Wonyoung, catering to her whims and making her feel special. There were plenty of playful moments and laughter, and by the end of the day, it felt like the balance had been restored among the three of you.
Wonyoung lay on the couch, a contented smile on her face as she looked at you and Sakura. “See? This wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Not at all, I was expecting a lot more work.” You replied.
“Because the worst part is yet to come. The both of you are going spend the entire night with me.” Wonyoung said as she took off her skirt. 
To be continued… 
339 notes · View notes
rimunagenius · 2 days
Text
I Could Die For you
ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x reader
ʚ word count: 1.2k
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , fluff, fluff, literal fluff, so much love that it’s sickening
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: to make up for that last post about emily because what the flip!! also the first Kate fic i’ve released that hasn’t been in a series!! yay! also ofc i had to write Kate to one of my favorite love songs!!💕 if you guys do not listen to this song and love it, i’m quitting writing and reporting everyone’s blog…
| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |
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Something inside the cards I know is right
Don't wanna live somebody else's life
Kate was so happy. She knew her life was exactly where she wanted it to be. Cold mornings like this, wrapped in the bed sheets, both your bodies wrapped together to create the most perfect fit to a puzzle.
With your head resting on her body, your nose nuzzling perfectly into her neck, your soft snores and exhales ticking her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.
The way your hand rested on her chest, and the way Kate's hand rested on your waist from the way she was holding you into her body. She knew she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Lying here, wide awake admiring you and thanking god or whoever was out there, that she was able to do this, and do it with you.
This is what I want to be
And this is what I give to you because I get it free
"Oh my god, Kate." You stood in shock in your guys' kitchen. You had a rough day at work, letting Kate know that while you sat in your office, counting down the minutes until you could come home. So when you walked through the door and wandered into the living room where Kate was watching the NBA finals, she got up to greet you and took you to the kitchen, giving you the flowers and chocolate she picked up on her way home from practice today. 
You had a new adjustments to make since leaving Iowa. Picking up your life and moving to Las Vegas with Kate when she found out she made the roster officially, after living in a hotel room during training camp. You loved her so much, and you had so much faith in the person she was and the skills she had, you knew moving across states wasn't going to be a regret you had years down the line. 
Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation radiating from the blonde who stood a few feet away. "Aw, don't cry. Why are you crying, baby?" Kate walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck so you buried your face into her chest. 
"Because. You do this for me just for having a bad day. Your days are full of stress with basketball, still proving yourself, and tired from your work. I don't deserve you, Kate." You were a mess. You missed a lot of things. You missed your old friends, how close your guys' family used to be, and you missed Kate while she was gone. You missed a lot of things—you've longed for those things, but you loved your life here with Kate. You two away from what you knew and grew accustomed to, to independently make what you want and need. 
You loved it but you couldn't help but long for what used to be your life sometimes. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world and more because you packed your life up just because you believed in me. This is the very least I could do for you. I will continue to show you how important you are to me and who I am. You make me better so I'm going to show you every day til I can't anymore. I love you. You work hard and you deserve to be appreciated and seen." 
That made the tears fall harder, but you looked up at Kate, and couldn't believe this was your girl. The woman you got to spend and do life with. You kissed her lips chastely, hugging her close again. You two stood there, looking at the pretty flowers and sharing some of your chocolate. 
She smiles while I do my time
It was so early in the morning. Kate waking you up for a travel day for the Aces. It was an away game to Los Angeles and you wanted to make this game so you took the days off. 
You hated getting up early, and the stress that came with traveling was truly not a great time. Kate knew it, but she loved that you were willing to do it for her.  You didn't like most things, but the look on your girlfriend's face when you watched her do the thing she loves most, play the game that gave her many of the amazing opportunities she's had, it was all worth it. 
Kate walked onto to the court, looking at you behind the Aces bench, and smiled. You already smiling right back at her. She knew that no matter how early she woke you up, or how many times she did it, you'd be there, lift her up, and cheer her on. You knew this was where you wanted to be. 
I could die for you
It was the day after Kate had won the WNBA Finals, and you two had been lying in bed since last night. You couldn't believe that she had come so far from the little girl who idolized the Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball team, to a woman who's grown into the most tremendously courageous and strong woman who won her first WNBA Championship. It was so surreal. 
"You know I love you so much, right?" Kate whispered. One arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to her body, while her other hand held your thigh that lay across her hip. 
"I would hope so." You giggled softly, looking up at the blonde above you, your hand went from her chest to the side of her face, resting against her cheek. You looked into her eyes, the blue of them convincing you more by the second that they were better looking than the sky outside. 
"No, I'm serious. You are the love of my life. I would be so lost without you. I don't think I could live without you—let alone do what I've done this past year without you." Her voice wavered, you could tell her emotions still running high after the night she had last night. 
"Kate, my love." You chuckled nervously, the confession making you giddy, but also overwhelmingly more in love with Kate, if that was even possible. It brought tears to your eyes.
"You make me so happy. Just being right here, with you, is more important to me than winning another ring." 
"Oh my god Kate, stop it. You're going to make me cry. I'm so in love with you." You wiped a small tear that fell down your cheek. Kate smiled down at you, willing herself to not close her eyes and just die happy right here with you. 
"I'm so in love with you, I could die." Kate giggled softly, wiping her eyes before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss. You smiled so hard you couldn't even kiss properly. A fit of giggles came from the both of you. 
"Ah! Kate, stop it! Oh my god, Kate!" You screamed and giggled as she left kisses and tickles everywhere she could reach, especially in your most ticklish spots. You two couldn't be anymore happier. Kate wouldn't want to be anywhere else unless you were there, under her arms or wrapped in them. 
Oh, this life I choose.
You two were just simply two girls in love and wouldn't have it any other way. 
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roosterforme · 2 days
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Covering the Classics Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Confronting Kevin in California should have made Anna feel like she had the advantage, but nothing with him ever went to plan. As soon as Bob encounters Anna's husband for himself, he knows something isn't quite right.
Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
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"Did you delete her number yet?" Nat asked as she lifted her helmet and Bob's off of the shelf in the hangar where their gear was stored when they weren't flying. "Or are you trying to prolong the pain like some sort of sadistic artist?"
Bob flinched at her words, because she hit a little too close to home for his liking. It wasn't that he wanted to be missing Anna like this, but he had been writing a lot of poetry about her. He couldn't help himself. He hadn't posted any since the one about his bookshelf, but that didn't mean his computer wasn't full of it.
"I'm not trying to prolong the pain," he told his friend with a grimace. "I don't know what I'm doing."
She shoved his helmet down onto his head and told him, "I know she threw you for a loop, but either delete her number or give her another chance. Don't sit in this annoying gray area. I don't know why you guys insist on doing that shit. I tried for ten years to get Bradley to contact his wife, but he just flounced around in the gray area like an idiot instead. Don't be like him," she said firmly, pointing to where Bradley was looking down at his phone with a dopey smile on his face. He was almost definitely texting his wife if he looked like that.
Bob sighed. "Nat, I don't know if she wants me to give her another chance right now. She said she's going to deal with her husband, but I think she needs time."
Nat rolled her eyes and held her hands up in the air. "Why don't you," she said, waving her fingers like she was performing magic, "talk to her again?!"
Bob pulled his helmet off again, saying, "What would you suggest I say? She already knows I've had feelings for her for months. There's just a point where it becomes too much."
"You could tell her that even though it blew up in your face, she's the best lay of your life." Bob immediately wished he hadn't told her that. "Or that you'll still be around after she figures her shit out. I think the ball is in your court."
He was still blushing furiously and nowhere closer to knowing what he should be doing when they all got called to the tower, but he did smile when Nat snapped at Bradley to put his phone away. She probably needed to get laid more than Bob ever did.
---------------------------
The bus ride from San Diego to Carlsbad shouldn't take an hour and a half when it would take barely forty minutes to drive yourself. Not for the first time, Anna wished she had a car in California. That way she could get to Kevin faster. Kevin. Fucking Kevin. The man who was the reason she didn't have a car in California.
She needed to stay calm. If she could catch him while his guard was down and convince him to just sign the paperwork, she would be golden. But every time she thought about seeing his face, she started to panic. She had seen nothing except kind faces for months. The faces of her friends. The faces of her students. Bob's beautiful blue eyes always seemed to look at her with a smile behind them. Even now, after she met up with him for a little bit at the bookstore, his eyes were kind.
Her hands shook slightly. She needed to deal with Kevin so she could move on and never have to see him again. Then she could work on getting back to the people who didn't look at her like she was worthless. When the bus finally fought its way through traffic and made a stop near the hotel where the conference was being held, she sprinted down the steps and up the block. She had already memorized the map and knew she needed to find the grand ballroom, but when she got to the upscale hotel, she was sweaty and panting for breath, and even the doorman was looking at her skeptically as she slipped inside.
The lobby was crowded enough that she padded her way across the marble floor in her beat up sneakers, blending in well enough with the others. Signs for the National Neurological Physicians Association conference were plastered all over the place, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes. It was laughable that physicians from all over would come here to listen to Kevin blathering on and on about his specialty area of study. But when Anna paused to really think about it for a second, something close to cold fury started flowing through her veins, because she was the one who paid for that for him. She was the reason he was a speaker at this massive conference in the first place.
With renewed purpose, she picked up her pace and turned right past the elevator bank, following the signs that led her toward several people in monogrammed lab coats. The ballroom was in sight, and she was ready to push through the double doors when one of the men in a lab coat popped up in front of her. 
"Not so fast," he said, a forced smile plastered on his face. "You're late for the introductory speakers, and you haven't signed in yet."
"Oh," she said, scrambling to push her bag up on her shoulder. "Right." When he gestured toward a long table with some unclaimed name badges and information booklets, Anna's heart skipped a beat. She took a step closer, praying nobody would ask her for any sort of identification, and reached for the badge that said Dr. Angela Harmon, MD. She clipped it onto her shirt, realizing she was terribly under dressed to even try to pull this off, and then she picked up the booklet with Dr. Harmon's name on it as well. "Is this all I need?" she asked, tapping the name badge and praying this random woman didn't decide to show up right now.
With a nod, the man said, "Please try to find a seat at the back to keep disruption to a minimum. I believe Dr. Webber is still speaking, and you know how excited we all are to have him here."
Anna had to bite down on the inside of her cheek and take a deep breath before she could say, "So excited," through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dream of being disruptive."
"Of course not," he agreed, finally smiling kindly. "Enjoy the conference, Dr. Harmon."
Carefully and as quietly as she could, Anna entered the ballroom to find hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs listening to her worthless husband giving a presentation in a three piece suit. 
"But we already know recent attempts to update computational axial tomography are largely like someone trying to reinvent the wheel," he said with a charming smile, and the room hummed with amused laughter like everyone was in on some sort of inside joke. Anna's skin crawled as she carefully took a seat in the last row, praying Kevin hadn't seen her yet. If he was this well known and well regarded in his field, then he didn't need money from her manuscript. He was simply holding onto it to be an ass.
She had to listen to him for twenty more minutes after that. Nineteen too long in her book. His voice sounded light and carefree, and his smile was handsome and unassuming. Frankly he was putting on some sort of persona, and it was nothing like she was used to. But it wasn't until he started on a short presentation that Anna's attention was piqued, because it was then that she saw he was using the laptop that they used to share. The one she used to type up her book.
A soft sound escaped her as she stared longingly at it, wondering if her work was still there. He slammed the computer shut, and she was jolted back to reality as he said, "Once again, thank you all for being here for the next week. We have so many groundbreaking topics to learn about and some of the most renowned research physicians in the country sharing their expertise with us. Let's take a quick break and then dive right into new MRI techniques with Dr. Nunez."
There was an immediate round of applause, and Anna jumped to her feet, heart pounding so hard, it was making her nauseous. When she headed toward his cocky, smiling face, she realized Kevin was already surrounded by colleagues, shaking hands and laughing. And that was when he spotted her. They'd been on the phone just a handful of hours ago, but he looked shocked to see her here. She watched his sharp, gray eyes narrow in on her with a spiteful glare before he smoothed out his features into something neutral. And that's when she came to terms with the fact that he would know she was living in southern California. That's when she knew she needed to make this work.
"Anna," he said with absolutely no emotion as she cut in front of the person he was talking to. "What are you doing here?"
She swallowed hard, imagining Bob and her two friends were with her, urging her on, cheering for her to fix this. "I have something for you to sign," she told him as her voice shook. She took a step closer as she reached into her bag to pull out the folded paperwork and a pen.
"No," he practically growled under his breath, trying not to draw more attention to himself. "Why are you doing this here? I'm a little busy."
Anna wanted to laugh in his face. She was a little busy trying to get on with her stupid life, but that didn't stop him from disrupting her mission every day. "Just sign the divorce papers, Kevin," she demanded, but she sounded like a child even to her own ears. His eyes flashed with so much anger, she could barely breathe with him this close to her. He was built similarly to Bob, which was a frightening realization. Where Kevin always used his size as an intimidation tactic, Bob had never done that to her. She always felt safe around him. Right now she felt very unsafe around Kevin, even though they were literally in the midst of a crowd of people.
"Just sign it," she whispered, trying to push the document into his solid chest. It was unbelievable that at one time, she was in love with this man. It was crazy to think about how he used to tell her he loved her too. "Please, Kevin." He looked so angry right now, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the people behind her started whispering.
"Who is this woman? That's not Alyssa."
"Did she say divorce? Isn't he married to that other physician? The pregnant one?"
So Alyssa was pregnant. And nobody here even knew about Anna. It was like she didn't even exist. Like she had never existed to her husband. A mortifying little sob bubbled free from the back of her throat, and she looked up at Kevin as he said, "Let's take a little walk."
His hand closed around her bicep, and Anna wanted to yelp as he pulled her up onto the stage, past the podium, where nobody else would be able to hear them. The laptop was right there, and she considered trying to take it, but she'd never make it out of the hotel let alone back to her apartment with it. Instead she tripped along next to him until he had her where he wanted her.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled. "Were you always this stupid? Or have you gotten worse?"
"Come on, Kevin," she pleaded, and he finally released her throbbing arm. "You don't need it. Look how well you're doing. You don't need my book."
He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. "You think you can come here and embarrass me in front of my peers? Mentioning our marriage like we still have one when you moved away?"
Her fist clenched at her side. "Our marriage didn't fall apart because I left," she hissed under her breath. "It fell apart because of you. And now your mistress is pregnant?"
Kevin sighed. "I understand that you're jealous, Anna. I really do, but I'm not signing anything for you."
She clenched and unclenched her fist. The desire to punch him in the face was so strong as her other hand shook with the papers grasped between her fingers. She was far from jealous, and he knew it. He wanted to get a rise out of her because he felt cornered. "I don't care what these people think about me," she whispered. "But you do. So just sign it."
He stood before her, tall and broad with his jaw set as he said, "There is no way in hell you have what it takes to intimidate me. Now get the fuck out of here, or I will have security remove you from the hotel for disrupting the conference."
She knew she didn't have any other choice. If she somehow got herself in trouble for being here, she didn't have the money to spend on more legal help. So she took a step backwards just as Kevin's hand flew up to pull the name badge from her shirt. "And you're obviously not Dr. Harmon. She has enormous tits, and I fucked her last year in Toronto. Now go." 
Twenty minutes later, Anna was back on the bus heading south toward San Diego, empty handed with tears in her eyes and a bruised arm.
-----------------------------
"What happened to your pretty girlfriend?"
Bob looked up from his phone as he walked up his porch steps after a long run on Monday evening. He hadn't been sleeping well, debating reaching out to Anna again, and he was hoping the run would tire him out. But he should have known Suzanne would have her door open and her game shows blaring at this hour.
"Hi, Suzanne," he said, wishing he could just duck inside his own place without having to chat with her.
"I haven't seen her again in weeks."
Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "She's not my girlfriend. She never was."
"Not with that attitude," his neighbor mused under her breath.
"You have a good night, Suzanne." Bob swatted Sylvester away from his front door before heading inside and up to take a shower. He thought about Anna as he ran his soapy hands along his body. He tried not to, but she was on his mind a lot. When he climbed into bed, his skin felt too hot. He opened the window to let the late fall air in, but it did nothing to help him. He wanted to see her, even just to make sure she was still okay.
He reached for his phone, typed up a text, and then deleted it. "You sound so desperate for her," he groaned, trying again. But again he had to delete it rather than send it. Finally he settled on something simple.
Hey, I've been craving some peanuts from Chippy's. Feel like joining me for a bit tomorrow?
It sounded neutral enough. If she said no, he'd ask Jessica to make sure the ladies were checking in on her. If she said yes, then Bob could see with his own eyes if she was okay. He would also get to see with his own eyes how fucking beautiful she was, but that didn't matter as much, honestly.
He was just slipping into a daydream where Anna's husband divorced her tomorrow and never left the state of New Jersey again when his phone vibrated on his nightstand.
Anna Webber: Peanuts from Chippy's sound heavenly right now. I would love to join you for a little bit.
He exhaled as the cooler air finally met his skin, and he pulled his sheet over himself after he promised to meet her there.
----------------------------
Before she went down to the quad with her lunch bag, Anna adjusted her cardigan. She knew her sleeve was covering his bruised arm, but she felt naked all morning during her lectures anyway. She felt like her skin and the inside of her brain were on full display for everyone. She wondered when Alyssa was due. She wondered if Kevin slept with Dr. Harmon when he was in Toronto last June or last October. Perhaps both. She wondered how someone who was so full of shit could keep coming out ahead of her.
"Anna!"
At least her friends were still faithfully waiting for her at the weird looking tree. And at least Bob was making it a point to let her know she was welcome around him. She could hardly wait to go to Chippy's later. 
"Hi," she said, plopping down in between them on the bench, adjusting her sleeve one more time before pulling her sad sandwich out. "What's new in the world of science and mathematics?"
Almost immediately, she had a container of veggies and a homemade ranch dip in her hand while her friend told her about a fascinating math conference she wanted to go to next year in Philadelphia. Apparently the dates were just announced, and you had to be someone important to even get an invitation. Anna loved that her friend already knew she was going to go, but it made her dwell on Kevin and his conference which was still going on in Carlsbad.
"Oh!" Jessica said as she poured some potato chips on her already delectable looking sandwich. "Jake and I are going to Cabo next month! A much needed break after the term ends."
"I love that for you," Anna told her, feeling jealous in spite of herself. And that made her feel even sadder. She almost winced when her other friend wrapped her arm around her, inadvertently mashing her hand against the bruise from Kevin.
"Don't worry. Bradley and I aren't going anywhere for term break. I wanted to, but his favorite Grateful Dead cover band is playing right here in San Diego on New Year's Eve, and he absolutely can't miss it. That would be a crime." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm which made Anna laugh. "How's your week going?" she asked cautiously. 
Anna wanted to tell them all about going to the conference at the hotel. She wanted to tell them that she saw Kevin and left with less than nothing. She would tell them, but not right now when she only had a little bit of time before she had to give her Classics lecture. She didn't want to run the risk of arriving to the lecture hall with tears in her eyes. 
Instead she softly said, "I'm going to see Bob later. Just a quick visit to Chippy's for some peanuts."
Jessica was instantly vibrating with excitement. "That's great. I think you and he will have fun!"
"We will," Anna confirmed. Even though it was a little awkward, she'd had a nice time with him at the bookstore. She always did. Because he was kind and sweet and literally the opposite of everything that Kevin turned out to be. She just wished there was some reality in which she could feel his arms around her again. "We will."
The end of lunch came way more quickly than she wanted it to, and Anna found herself mentally regrouping to try to find another way to get her manuscript. She taught her last two lectures and graded a handful of essays, counting down the minutes until she could see Bob again. His blue eyes would be soft when he looked at her, and his words would be enough to make her feel better even if they only engaged in some small talk.
When she only had thirty minutes until she was supposed to meet him, she printed off sixty copies of the quiz she would need for tomorrow afternoon. Anna locked her office door behind her as she headed down to the teacher's lounge to retrieve the quizzes before someone moved them, never to be seen again. She learned her lesson after last time that if you didn't grab them right away, there was a good chance they'd end up in the trash. Then she would drop them off before going to meet Bob.
----------------------------
Since he was running early, Bob decided to just head to Anna's office and meet her there. He'd been so antsy to see her, he showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and tee shirt in record time after work. Even though he'd only been in this one academic building one time, he remembered exactly how to get to her office. Having an outstanding sense of direction just came with the territory for a WSO, but her hallway also smelled like fresh baked bread.
When he rounded the last corner, Bob skidded to a halt and ducked back behind the wall. There was a man about his age who was vigorously jiggling Anna's doorknob. "Anna. Open the door so we can talk," he said calmly even as he pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Bob didn't know who he was, but he had a bad feeling, and that's when the man turned his head and spotted him.
Bob squared his shoulders to try to match the other man's height as he rounded the corner completely and asked, "Are you looking for Dr. Webber?"
The other man appraised him with cool gray eyes and smirked. "Let me guess. You're sleeping with her?"
Bob's heart lurched into his stomach as the color drained from his face. He knew this had to be Kevin. He knew it without confirmation, and now he didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond. So he simply kept his mouth shut while the other man took a step in his direction.
"She really likes to act so high and mighty. Very hypocritical in this scenario," he muttered, making Bob's skin crawl. "I can't believe her."
Bob swallowed hard, trying to figure out why Anna agreed to go to Chippy's today if she knew Kevin was in San Diego. All he knew about was what she'd told him when she came to his house. Bob didn't think he should divulge too much to this man, so he simply asked, "What do you want from her?"
The answer was swift and felt like a punch to the gut. "She's my wife, and she's coming back to New Jersey with me where I can keep track of her. She doesn't belong here, and she needs to stop lying. So why don't you tell me what you want from her?"
His nostrils flared as his fingers curled into fists, and Bob had to take a few deep breaths before he said, "I just wanted to make sure she's okay."
Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and said, "She's nothing you need to be concerned about."
The uneasy feeling that started to fill him up spread through his whole body now, and Bob took a step backwards. Maybe Anna was already at Chippy's. Maybe she didn't know Kevin was here at all. He backtracked his way through the building as he started to panic. What if she did know he was here? What if she had played Bob and everyone else the whole time?
He would check for her at Chippy's. He made it all the way across the quad to a weird looking tree that was growing sideways when he froze again. It just didn't make sense. Anna said she hated Kevin and never wanted to go back to New Jersey, and Bob had no reason to believe someone else over her.
He started calling her phone, torn as to which direction he should head. Back up to her office? To Chippy's where they were supposed to meet up? She didn't answer. He started toward the bar, covering the few blocks at a brisk pace as he tried to call her again. He walked back and forth across that sticky floor through the clusters of students enjoying an after class drink before he was satisfied that she wasn't there. 
"Damn it, Anna. Answer your phone," he muttered as he ran back to her building and up to her office. The building was virtually empty at this hour, and now there was nobody in the hallway at all. He knocked on her door and called out her name, but he was met with silence. The kind of silence that just didn't feel right.
He felt like he was going crazy, running in circles both metaphorically and physically for this woman, and when he finally reached his truck, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow. Her apartment wasn't far from campus, and he didn't know where else to even look at this point. When he got there, he parked and tried to call her one more time before someone else who lived in the building simply held the door open for him.
"Thanks," he muttered, heading for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time until he reached Anna's floor. And then her apartment. What he heard coming from inside made him want to rip the door from the hinges.
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I hate Kevin. Hate. Him. I'm sorry, but he's still going to get worse. Just remember that Bob is a sweet cinnamon bun. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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needfantasticstories · 15 hours
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“Many places I have been
Many sorrows I have seen
But I don't regret
Nor will I forget
All who took that road with me”
-The Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd
This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja, after 86 chapters, 300k words, and 10 months of joy, laughter, tears, heartbreak and love, has finally reached its end. 
Adjuration is a tragedy that is nothing short of an act of love. That much is clear in the passion and dedication put towards the story, the characters, and the message Freyja is trying to convey. This fic will teach you about love. About death. About the inevitability of existence and why despite knowing it will all come to an end, there is still meaning in trying and hoping and loving each other. In loving yourself. You will laugh, you will cry, you will hope and you will despair as you read this story, but you will not be able to put it down.
It’s hard to say goodbye to something that has been so important to and loved by so many people. So we won’t. Instead, we will say thank you for this incredible journey and the community this fic has built. For the friendships that have been made and the endless inspiration you have given us. Thank you for wanting to tell a story, and for letting us join you around the campfire to listen.
Thank you.
(If you like Linked Universe and haven’t yet read Adjuration, see below for spoiler free reviews of this fic and artist credits.)
This is an Adjuration is the kind of story you fall in love with, the kind of story you think keep thinking about long after you put it down. The kind you keep finding hidden details in after you think you’ve got it figured out. 
The characters are distinct and people with their own voices, motivations, relationships and histories. You’ll have your favourites but love them all. They influence how you’ll see the characters in everything else. 
It’s full of moments where everything clicks and everything before is recontextualised in a way that’s so satisfying and make the whole story very re-readable. A time travel story where all loops are already closed, where you can know but not yet understand what will happen. It’s long, complex, and beautifully, meticulously planned and detailed. It’s clever and considered, funny and heartbreaking. 
A story that whispers ‘it matters’ over and over. It is worth it to love, it is worth it if it doesn’t last forever, it is worth it to give someone a little more time, it is worth it to fight. It’s about loving others and your world and finding grace for yourself. 
It’s loss and tragedy and the cruelness of fate. It is the sacrifice and the breaking. 
Full of heart to both fill yours and break it in the best possible way. 
It’s about love. Always.
By @toyouhellohowareyou
Sometimes, it’s hard to explain to others why art moves us.
I could tell you This is an Adjuration will make you cry, laugh, and sit at the edge of your seat in anticipation. And it’s probably true - I did all of that as I read, often with a coffee in one hand, early in the morning as I got ready for the day. 
But that’s not the reason why I’m writing this.
The real reason is how it followed me during the rest of the day.
You see, at a certain point I realized this isn’t a story about Links going on adventures. Well, it does feature Links, and they do go on adventures, so let’s talk about that for a minute.
The first thing that caught my attention about this book was the characters. Each individual is unique, interesting, and exciting to follow. Not only are the Links individually compelling, but one thing that stands out in Adjuration is how the relationship between each Hero and their own worlds matter, and these connections shift, evolve, break and grow as the plot progresses.
Freyja does an incredible job of bringing together impactful storytelling with humor and heart. This is an Adjuration starts with an interesting premise, and then twists and turns in directions you wouldn’t expect. It’s rich in thought-provoking moments, soft joy and intense action, blended in with carefully crafted time travel and magic.
Adjuration sucked me into the world it builds, combining believable characters with fascinating stories, an unnervingly devious antagonist, plot twists, and lovingly crafted details that slip unnoticed until you’re surrounded on all sides. It made me cheer for characters I feel as if I’ve known intimately for years, made me worry for their safety as I would for that of a loved one, kept me hunting for hints and hidden references, pulling on a thread to try to find the end only for it to twist and loop into itself and show me a completely new side to the story.
Yes, This is an Adjuration is a fanfiction piece that explores the winding river flow of the Legend of Zelda timeline and how the stories of each Hero merge into each other. It also stands out for its heavy emotional content, and it doesn’t shy away from angst and hurt.
But to me, Adjuration is an epic journey that taught me how the choices we make, make us in turn. It’s a tragedy that deals with pain and healing, and it bares naked the non-linear nature of grief. It’s a celebration of the things that make us unique, of our flaws, an essay of the impact of little acts of love. Indeed, it’s a story about love.
I can tell you now, This is an Adjuration moved me. It still does. It has a special way to surface in my mind in unexpected ways at seemingly random times, from something as simple as tossing an apple core, to watching a lightning storm in the distance, or finding a picture of an old friend.
And every time, without fail, it makes me think about love.
By @sunny-porridge
This is an Adjuration is a wonderfully and beautifully crafted story about love, loss, and choice as the various incarnations of Link come together and travel through time. Freyja seamlessly weaves a tapestry of setup and payoff across different timelines and loops, in the best-constructed time travel plot I’ve ever seen on page or screen. Even at its surface, Adjuration is an emotional rollercoaster involving tragedy and the soft moments that make that tragedy worth it. But the deeper you look, the more meaning you can pull from every chapter of this amazing work. This work has made me cry, squeal with delight, and think more deeply about its themes all while having an absolute blast reading it. So in summary: READ IT. READ IT. READ IT NOW. YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.
By @life-in-winter
While I love that every chapter is emotionally enthralling, with carefully woven, visceral tension you crave in any good story, yet Adjuration is more than that, and you feel it in the careful weave of each character and plot point. Nothing is lost or unanswered. It's the kind of story that, by the end, makes you stop and take a hard look at your own life. Are you appreciating the now? Are you savoring joy? Are you so wrapped up in fear that you can hardly take care of yourself? Do you know who you are?
This story is more like an external experience. It's riding atop a tsunami. How do you handle that ride, Link?
There aren't enough words to describe how amazing this fic is.
@needfantasticstories
Artist credit
Legend: @gia-d
Hyrule: @bittirsweeteer
Time: @toonblade
Sky: @noorahqar
Warriors: @whitewinterstar
Wild: @weavingstarlight
Twilight: @bluury2
Wind: @thewitchdoctor39
Four: @lunaopus
Red: @peepthatbish
Blue: @glowingmin
Green: @winterfen
Vio: @waterfallstream
Shadow: @deleetrix
Wolfie: @linkiscool333
Fierce Deity: @awildsilver
Ravio: @lele5429
Malon: @tooner-tastic
Dink: @passerinesoncaffeine
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 day
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Hurray 🎉 more asks!!
First off love-love your writing!
I'm not sure if you were the writer or if you've read the snippet. But there was one that I read where Captain Marvel gets de-aged into a child, a speaks an unrecognizable language child (like he was an actual adult not a kid pretending to be an adult). Everything is mostly fine until he asks for his parents and nobody knows who they are. Kid Marvel screams and a giant hole tears open and I assume the JL meets the Everlasting Trio.
I would love to see how you would continue something like this or write something of this nature.
Ironically, the champion of Magic was turned into a child with magic. It was one of those things that he was sure would be funny in a few years but not in the moment. Initially, Bruce had been horrified to see his teammate fall like that from the sky, his form shifting and changing into what could pass as a five-year-old right before his eyes.
The spell caster had unfortunately gotten away with a convenient portal, and they were left scrambling to catch Captain Marvel. There was also the issue of all the civilians that were displaced due to his rampage through the city of Fawcett City.
Bruce quickly worked to have Wayne Enterprise start funding the relief program for them, but it would take time, which was not something they had. He left it to Superman, Flash, and Wonder Woman to get everyone sorted—the three were the best at working with scared civilians.
In the meantime, he Zeta-beamed himself, and the small child Marvel had become up to the watch tower. The boy had been unconscious the entire time, which worried Bruce. After a few tests and scans with the medical staff, as well as his own studies, it was decided that besides being de-aged, there was nothing physically wrong with Marvel.
They would just have to wait till the Champian woke himself.
Bruce wondered how he would take his new form. In all the research he had done on Marvel and the legends of the Wizard, the champion had never been depicted as a child. He had assumed this was due to the champion repeating in various forms- sometimes female, sometimes male- but never as a child.
If anything, Bruce had discovered that they were always at peak physical age, usually from twenty-two to thirty-five. He had assumed this meant the reincarnation or the selection for the champion was just made that way.
How foolish to think they were never children that grew to that age before proclaiming themselves as Captain Marvel.
"Where am I?" a child's voice called, surprising Bruce from his files on Captain Marvel. Twisting around, he finds himself staring into the doe-blue eyes of Captain Marvel.
For a moment, he is reminded of his various children with similar coloring, and it pulls on Bruce's heartstrings to see the distress on that little face. He raises his hands, making sure his voice is softer than his usual growl. Bruce became the vengeance, so every child should feel safe with him after all.
"You're safe here." He reassures, watching the boy's face twist. He steps closer, portraying comfort but not reaching out to touch. "Do you recognize me?"
"Are you a ghost?" The boy's voice is low, slightly fearful. There is no hint of recognition in his posture, expression, or voice. Bruce bites back a swear.
So much for that hope. Still, his teammate needs him. "No, my name is Batman. A few hours ago, we were, in fact, together against a magic user. You were hit and turned into a child. Does any of this sound familiar?"
The boy grips his blanket, bringing it up to his chin, and stares at Bruce with growing distress. He shakes his head just as tears start to swell in his eyes. It's not good at all. "Where are my parents? I want to go home."
He filed that away, wondering if there were any parents to contact for Captain Marvel. He's been around for hundreds of years. If he had been selected as a human, the myths implied, then his parents would have likely been long gone.
Bruce wonders if there is any way he can conceive Captain Marvel coming to live in the Wayne manor until he is turned back. He could leave him to live in the Watch Tower, but he hates the idea of it just as he thinks it.
His face crumbles as Bruce tells him honestly, "I'm not sure where your parents are, chum."
Captain Marvel's tears fall to the bed as he curls up. Bruce reaches out to give him a hug, trying to comfort the distressed child. He is just about to assure him he is safe again, and Batman will help him when the child lets out an ear-piercing scream.
It's high pitch enough that Bruce can't tell if the ringing he hears is from the sound or if it's only in his ears. He opens his mouth to ask when a portal—unlike the one the magic user had cast—rips open in the room.
Out steps a man with snow-white hair. On instinct, Bruce gathers Marvel in his arms, flinging them to the corner and throwing a Batarang at the intruder. He shields the boy behind him, pushing him toward the wall and growling at the man.
His batarang is shot out of the air with some kind of green ray, as the man's eyes narrow.
A sound escapes the man. The structure and expression of the man indicate that it's obviously a language, but Bruce doesn't recognize it. He can tell that the man is angry, though, and that's not something he wants anywhere near Captain Marvel in his current state.
"Who are you!?" He demanded, raising more weapons. "How did you get in!?"
Oddly, Captain Marvel speaks, his words similar to the language the others use, and the white-haired man's face softens.
"You have my son," The man says in perfect English. Bruce raises a brow.
"Do you know him?" He whispers to the wiggling child.
"Yeah, that's one of my dads." The boy whispers back, sounding a lot calmer now that his apparent father is around. Bruce cautiously steps away, watching Marvel run straight into the arms of the stranger.
The man meets him halfway with a loud, excited chirp and purr, bringing the boy into his arms and squeezing him into a tight hug. Bruce watches every hint of body language, concluding he is not lying about being the boy's father.
"I'm sorry about the scare. It's been a long time since Billy used his distress call. I got a little worried." After a few minutes of chirps and purrs exchanged between parents and child, the man says. He raises his head to stare at Bruce with a regal air.
An aristocrat. Bruce's mind whispers, wondering where this noble hails form. Nowhere on earth with his glow or bright eyes. Was Captain Marvel half-human? "It's alright."
"I'm Danny Phantom," Danny tells him, flouting over with an outstretched hand that is not holding his son up. "It's an honor to meet you."
Bruce returns the handshake, keeping his voice and tone even. "Batman."
But inwardly, he swears up a storm. He knows that name and recognizes the legends and myths. Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, ruler of the connecting dimension of the muli-verse. It was one of the first beings he had encountered in his in-depth religious and culture studies, having seen the Ghost King be depicted throughout history even when he was lost in it.
One of the strongest beings to ever exist. Alongside, his wife and husband, who each ruled their own powerful area on the mortal plane- The Green that Posoisin Ivy and Swamp Thing gain their powers were said to be Samatha, the wife of the ghost King.
The meta gene—identified by the scientific community in recent years but proved to exist long before the first ancient Egyptians—was said to be a blessing from Tucker, the Husband of the ghost King. He was the one who appointed the first pharaohs, destroying the meta gene through their bloodline.
And Captain Marvel was their child.
No wonder the man was the champion of Magic. Who else was more qualified than the Heir to the Ghost King?
"It seems like a simple curse. It should reverse on its own," King Phantom comments while continuously turning his child this way and that, making the boy giggle. "It will wear off in only ten years."
Bruce wondered if he knew that was a very long time for humans. But what was a decade to a god?
"Batman was it?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Call me Danny. I was thinking, since Billy will be stuck like this for ten years, maybe my family should go on vacation while he recovers." Bruce does not like the sound of this, but he can't deny the king's action as a bright light overcomes the glowing figure, and a regular-looking human is left in its wake.
"I'll call my husband and wife. Do you know if any properties are for sale in your neighborhood? I want Billy to be close to his work friends."
Bruce was right. He did not like this one bit. Should he risk war with the Infinite Realms to keep them out of Gotham? The answer was no, unfortunately, and he could try to push the family to move to Metropolis so they can be Clark's problem, but he knows that lying to higher beings is never a smart thing.
He sighs, tapping his wrist computer. "I know a realtor."
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cutielando · 7 hours
Note
Okay I have a request. Lando with his long time girlfriend and when Oscar joins the team they warn him to stay away from Lando’s drivers room after a race because him and reader love to ‘celebrate’ no matter the result of the race. And Oscar finds out the hard way. But McLaren are like use to it. 🤭🧡
Please and thank you.
a/n: i'm sorry this is short, but i literally couldn't come up with more for this :((( i'm trying to push through my little writer's block and put out as many fics as i possibly can while i still have a little time (i have my first exam on Thursday and I have so much shit to learn it's actually not even funny, but here i am writing fics instead of doing just that, yay me)
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In all fairness, Oscar had been well warned about Lando and his girlfriend’s antics post-races. Given that the walls in the motorhome were very thin, as Oscar had stated previously, the team felt like they should let Oscar know what he was in for.
He hadn’t quite taken to heart what he had been told. He had been thinking to himself, how bad can it actually be? And oh boy, it was bad.
You and Lando had made a pact from the beginning of your relationship and when you started coming to all of his races that you would do something to celebrate his every race outcome, no matter how good or bad. You vowed to see every race as something positive and take something from each one.
The McLaren team had become accustomed to your shenanigans, knowing not to go anywhere near Lando’s driver room in the hours after the race. They had come to learn to stay away the hard way, if you know what I mean.
And yet, Oscar chose to ignore them. Why? He didn’t even know.
Maybe it was just pure curiosity, maybe it was ignorance, one could only make suppositions. 
If he had managed not to hear anything that even remotely resembled the warnings he had been given up until that moment, he was in for a treat this time.
You had attended the Miami GP with Lando, catching a break from your studies and having promised him that he wouldn’t have to go to a race alone after failing to attend Japan. And imagine the joy you had felt once Lando had taken the checkered flag in P1. Scratch that, imagine what was going through your mind about the celebrations you were about to have with Lando as soon as he came back to the motorhome ;).
Your boyfriend had been thinking the exact same way, trying to make his way back to the hospitality as soon as he possibly could, but still politely stopping for interviews and photos or autographs.
But once he finally reached his room and saw you waiting for him, dressed only in your underwear, he knew he was in for an enormous treat.
Oscar hadn’t heard Lando get back. He had been so deep into thought and so focused on the music he had been listening to with headphones on that he hadn’t heard the door opening, the squeals that you let out once Lando had practically pounced on you as soon as he locked the door. 
However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he started hearing bangs, moans and dirty talking through his wall. At first he had thought he was hearing things. There was no way you were actually celebrating that loudly, right?
Wrong.
When he turned off the music and took off his headphones, he realized just how fucking loud you guys were being.
He didn’t even know how to react. What was he even supposed to do? Was he just supposed to leave his room and find somewhere else to hang out until you guys were done? Should he knock on your door and ask you guys to keep it down? No, Lando deserved the win and winding down whatever way he saw fit.
Sighing, he felt himself growing redder once the sounds on the other side of the wall only intensified. He couldn’t just stand around and listen to his teammate probably getting the fuck of his life after his maiden win, so he figured he would just get something to eat and hang out with either Mark or Logan.
The moment a member of the PR team, David, had seen him coming from his room, his cheeks a heavy crimson and refusing to make eye contact with anyone, he realized Oscar had just been the victim of Y/N and Lando.
“You heard them, didn’t you?” David asked him, an amused smile stretching on his face.
Oscar blushed even heavier, if that was even possible. Shyly, he nodded, making David laugh and pat him on the back.
“I didn’t think they were actually that bad” Oscar said, playing with his fingers as his ears could still pick up the noises he had done his best to avoid.
“We tried telling you, you didn’t want to believe us” David chuckled, patting him on the back again as he departed.
When you and Lando finally emerged from his room almost an hour later, the both of you laughed when you noticed how Oscar was avoiding eye contact with the both of you.
Poor Oscar…
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dumplingsjinson · 13 hours
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List of “(un)requited love” prompts 
Requested by: @girlwonder-writes Request: “I would like 24 prompts about unrequited love please!” 
“You’re the best thing that will never happen to me.”
“I love you. I know it’s one-sided. And that’s okay. I just needed you to know.”
“I swore to everything I love that I would never catch feelings for someone like you, but here we are. And what’s worse is you don’t feel the same, and I’m the one who’s going to embarrass themselves when all is said and done.”
“I don’t ask for you to love me back. I only ask you to understand it will take time for me to stop feeling this way for you.” 
“I never asked to fall for someone whom I know doesn’t feel the same way.”
“There’s a twisted beauty in being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same.” 
“What’s worse is, this is the first time I’ve genuinely felt this way about someone.”
“Do my feelings disgust you that much that you can’t even look me in the eyes now?” 
“I’ve always known that you don’t feel that way towards me. I just… Didn’t expect you to confirm it in a way that would both embarrass and hurt me.”
“Even love itself bested me.” 
“Your mind’s not occupied by anyone else, so why can’t you let it be occupied by me instead? Like you occupy mine.”
“I mean, it would be nice if I was given even one chance to prove myself to you.”
“I respect that you don’t like me back, so I hope you can at least respect my feelings for you.”
“Did you really just ask me if I know how it feels to not have someone love you back like that? Me, the biggest lovesick loser of them all?”
“I’m tired. I want to let go.” 
“I don’t want to feel like this way towards you anymore.”
“I’m not used to this lack of reciprocation.”
“Not to be a whiney bitch, but why can’t I be the one?” 
“I don’t mind loving them from afar if it means I get to keep them in my life.” 
“If I let go of you now… Then I’m letting go of you forever. And I don’t know… I don’t know if I can do that just yet.”
“We could be something more but there’s just one thing missing.” “Which is…?” “You also holding the same feelings for me, as I hold for you.” 
“I fell for you, fully knowing the risks… Yet I was still unprepared for the crash.” 
“This is why I never wanted to tell you how I felt! I knew it would ruin everything between us, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now.”
“You warned me not to fall for you. And it’s my fault I didn’t listen.”
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Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation
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emacrow · 2 days
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So you know the movie Ponyo
What I'm really trying to ask is do you know the mother and the father are like a little thing where the mother looks like an epic Sea Goddess cuz she is and he looks like a sad sickly old man
I'm just imagine that Klarion and Danny
Like Danny looks like an epic beautiful star Death god powerful in the way he moves but it's subtle like he's slowly comforting you to death
And Klarion looks like a crazy witch boy with a cat who look like he's out right feral and about to throw a pipe bomb at you just because he can
I'm just imagining what happens is Young/Dark Justice is worried about Klarion he's been gone for a while and they're wondering what he's planning I imagine they're surprised when they see him with a Lazarus pit
It's a specially surprising when electric entity sticks their head out of the Lazarus pit and starts talking to Klarion as the JLD and YJL hide there waiting for Klarion into demand help our power they watch this being completely start flirting with Klarion
I imagine Klarion and Danny's conversation going like this
Danny: Hello there my amazing chaos what have you came to talk to me about this time
He puts his hands up to pick up Klarion and bring him closer to his face
Klarion: It's that stupid Doctor Fate it's like he doesn't understand too much balance can ruin the order of the world I might love chaos but that would cause a chaos I couldn't even control
Klarion sits down and Danny's hands rubbing his head on one of Danny's fingers as comfort
Danny: Oh my love I could always talk to him and get him to try slow it down a bit if that's what you need
Danny's face turns into one of concern as he says that slowly starting to move around in the bigger than normal Lazarus pit that Klarion found for him
Klarion: No starlight me and Teekl have that old fart handled how about you tell me about your day instead did you find any more stars how is the balance between life and death doing for you
Danny puts him back down as a twinkle goes in to his eyes as he lays down in Lazarus water slowly starting to swim around as he say
Danny: oh Klarion life and death has been amazing and there's a new Star nursery that I found out there it's just wonderful
After Danny says that he pauses for a moment and presents to go underneath the water he comes out looking smaller with white hair and still wearing the same clothing he was wearing when he was larger surprising Klarion by grabbing his hands
Danny: oh Klarion my dear I have an idea how about we let Dr.Fate have what he wants for once in his miserable life let him have order without the balance that he needs that should show him that he needs you should it not
Klarion takes a second to think through It after he does he grabs Danny's hands right back
Klarion: that's an amazing idea Danny I'll stay with you in the infinite realms let's see how Dr Fate work without chaos helping him keep the balance
After that Danny kisses Klarion on the cheek using the the Lazarus pits to take him and Klarion to somewhere called the infinite realms
I'm sorry this is my first time really writing out Klarion I don't know how to write out characters that well I hope it was good that is what I really like is YJ and JLD was just reacting to this conversation since like the plan was listen and find information
You bet damn right that Dr Fate would have trouble keeping the balance, and would probably have the justice league trying to find Klarion because he thinks he up to something but in reality Klarion is in the middle of deep space, playing around with the stars as Danny is molding and feeding the baby star nursery to build a new universe in the making.
Dani is probably with him doing looping loops playing with star dust while Dan beat up any asteroids that had bad bacteria and let some of the good meteorites in that has good bacteria, and frozen water inside of them.
By the the time Justice league figured it out, probably the Green lantern, Hal. He probably gobsmacked and godsmacked straight back where he came form accidentally by Danny's star fueled cape.
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marvelsmylife · 2 days
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Irrationally jealous
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: Azriel becomes jealous when he finds out Cassian has been visiting you a lot lately, so he decides to reminds you that he was the first one to bed you when you first moved in.
A/n I’m sorry this is so short. This is more of a drabble. Nesta is next though and things are going to get kinky with her (followed by a Nessian threesome).
Inner Circles Whore Masterlist
ACOTAR Masterlist
Fourth Wing Masterlist (I know this has nothing to do with this story, I just want you guys to be aware that I write for Fourth Wing as well)
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Azriel was seething as he watched you make out with Cassian before disappearing into your room. This wouldn’t be a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that Cassian has been staying over for two consecutive weeks. Yes, he knew you didn’t belong to him, Rhysand and Feyre hired to bring them all pleasure when they wished. Still, a part of him that felt like you did belong to him.
As soon as Cassian left, Azriel appeared at your door. “Cassian, for the last time, you have to tell Nesta- oh Azriel, how can I help you?” You asked.
Instead of replying, Azriel just lifted you into his arms and carried you into your room. Azriel wasted no and got both of you undressed and was between your legs. “Azriel, go easy. I’m still sensitive from Cassian,” you arched your back as you felt Azriel’s tongue flicking your clit while he curled his fingers deep inside you.
“Never mention another male’s name while my fingers are inside you,” Azriel warned before removing his fingers and replacing them with his cock.
You were panting heavily as Azriel took you in every position he knew. A part of you felt like he was trying to mark his territory as he bit, licked, and sucked every inch of your body. “Mine,” Azriel growled possessively, “You’re fuck mine.”
“Yes, gods, yes,” you chanted, “I’m yours Az. I’m all yours.”
Just then, Azriel felt something snap in him. He stopped mid-thrust and stared deep into your eyes, “Are you ok?” you asked Azriel.
Azriel quickly nodded his head before he continued his actions. Reaching down, Azriel started massaging your clit until he felt you cumming around his cock. “That’s it, cum. Fuck, you look so hot when you cum,” Azriel groaned into your ear as he continued to thrust until he came as well.
Azriel kept moving until he felt his cock softening and reluctantly pulled out. “Gods, I missed you in my bed. Why haven’t you visited me?” You asked while Azriel covered your neck with love bites.
“Cassian has been hogging you,” Azriel replied bitterly, “He’s lucky he’s my brother, or else I would have murdered him already for taking so much of your time.”
You found yourself rolling your eyes at Azriel’s comment before replying, “He’s having a difficult time with Nesta, and I’ve been fucking him to distract him from his troubles. You, my sweet shadow-singer, will always be my number one.”
Azriel felt his ego boost at your comments and was ready to go again when you stopped him. “I don’t mean to be rude, but we can’t go another round or spend the night together. I’m leaving for the day court in the morning.” You could see the hurt in Azriel’s eyes, but he nodded and started getting dressed. When Azriel was at the door, you called his name, “I’ll see you in two months.”
Pushing aside his hurt, Azriel replied, “I’ll see you in two months,” before exiting your room and started to wonder two things. One: if what he felt while you were having sex was the mating bond snapping into place for him. Two: if you were his mate, would he have the right to tell you that you couldn’t have sex with anybody else but him. Azriel just shook his head and disappeared to his room.
@lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @golden-canyon @nayaniasworld @slut4acotar @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @harrystylesfan2686 @heartless-tate @fussel9913 @123345566 @paleidiot
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honeytonedhottie · 22 hours
Text
HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE may edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🎀
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welcome back to honeys it girl magazine, this is the may catalog. get ready for the inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion. a magazine for it girls ✨ and now please enjoy, the it girl magazine.
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FOR THE WELLNESS GIRLIES ;
this month i discovered ballerina tea! and if u dont know what ballerina tea is, im going to put you on bcuz thats the whole point of the it girls magazine. the key ingredients in ballerina tea is senna and chinese mallow.
so essentially ballerina tea contains herbs that some cultures have traditionally used for a long time. its marketed as a weight loss tea but thats not all true. ballerina tea has a laxative effect and is really good for DETOXIFICATION and translate into lost weight in the form of water and stools.
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while we are on the topic of consumption this is your reminder to eat ur fresh fruits and veggies! lets talk about ways to incorporate more fresh foods into our everyday diet.
if u like to snack, make fruits and vegetables more accessible for you. by prepping snacks before the cravings start, your snacking smarter.
start making smoothies or açai bowls as a rly yummy and easy way of getting fresh fruits daily.
make tasty veggie platters with home made sauces as a way to get in vegetables, or find a way to incorporate veggies into ur favorite recipes.
something that i did recently that has improved the quality of my diet is simply making some foods from scratch. for example i had a huge craving for fries, so i made home made fries and i can guarantee its 10X better then the processed fries that i would've gotten.
THE SCRAMBLE FOR SUMMER PLANS ;
school is FINALLY done. we are free to enjoy our hot girl summers! but now that school is done i find myself faced with the "now what?" question. no but seriously now what? no one wants to have a wasted summer, and ik u dont either so make sure to live up ur summer!
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i did not take my own advice and i did not make preparations in advance for my summer so as of writing this post i have no plans, so im scrambling to make plans with my friends and set things up for myself. im planning out things like girls trips to the city, shopping trips, parties, dinners etc etc. and ofc manifesting for the vacation that i deserve.
HONEYS BEAUTY CORNER ;
SUPER EASY TANNING ROUTINE - tanning is one of the most important parts of summer! to start ur tanning routine, first things first set up a tanning playlist. my tanning playlist consists of songs like espresso by sabrina carpenter, nasty by tinashe, and turn it up by pink pantheress.
next apply some SPF to protect ur skin from the hot sun and apply some tanning oil if u have it. something else important to remember when tanning is to cooldown after tanning so keep some aloe vera gel on hand to avoid burning. we wanna TAN not burn.
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tan the front then the back (each in 10 minute intervals) by the time ur done each side should tan for about 20 minutes each. so it'd be something like (front - 10 minutes, back - 10 minutes, front - 10 minutes, back - 10 minutes)
afterwards COOL DOWN with some swimming, some aloe vera, have a tasty mocktail/cocktail, apply some tanning oil and repeat the process one more time.
SMELLING LIKE THE BEACH - if u wanna smell like the beach, go to the beach. but if u wanna have the same effect i recommend the following products : the watermelon and coconut scented tree hut scrubs. the maui hair products. cabana girl body wash from philosophy. the bum bum body scrub. sol de janeiro rio radiance. ;
DIONNE FROM CLUELESS - STYLE DISSECTION ;
dionne is my absolute favorite character in the clueless movie and show for a MULTITUDE of different reasons. she is the embodiment of black femininity, girlyness, and she just exudes the lavish energy that we all know and love!
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lets start off by talking about the way that dionne styles her hair. dionne's hair is so healthy, bouncy and absolutely GORGEOUS. she frequently styles her hair with things like headbands and clips. i've seen her in lots of different hairstyles and she always EATS.
dionne isnt particularly drawn to one specific color, the colors that she wears ranges depending on her outfit but everything is so well put together. one of dionne's most ICONIC looks is her unforgettable burgundy velvet dress with some white detaling.
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