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#like you can do something and be unable to teach someone
deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 days
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HELLLO like i said ill be requesting and i read your rules so i hope this is fine.
Can you do young!Asl x f!reader like when Sabo and Ace was 10 and luffy was 7, reader here is 11. Reader wears a completely hair,chest and neck covering hijab and an muslim thob. Can you write a scenario where young!Asl meet f!reader when luffy and Ace were competing in their daily battle and while that happned that happned luffy hat flew off his head and flew away in the wind and Sabo,Ace and luffy go to find it and when they were looking aound they meet f!reader just walking in the forest with luffy hat on her head. Ace,Sabo and luffy hide behind a bush because they dont know about readers clothing and think she might be some dangerous pirate or assassin because living with moutain bandits dont really teach you about diffrent people around the world. But ofc luffy comes out the bush and trys to attack f!reader but she was able to pin him to the ground before he can do anything GIRL POWER and ace and sabo grab there metal pipe and they begin fighting with f!reader and at the end she gets beated by them and when she relize they want luffy hat she apologizes and gives luffy hat, blah blah *talking* (you can do this part between when they fight and back to Dadan place) when they reach Dadans place ofc her and the bandits want to fie because now they are taking care of 4 children now but luckly f!reader is actully helpful so Dadan actully like her.
How reader got on Mt.Cove
Reader was on a cruise with some of her relatives then a huge storm hit and broke the ship and she ploped into the ocean not able to swim because of the harsh waves then she passes out when her head hits a rock then later she washes up in shore in the forest and she wakes up and starts walking around then meets the brothers and when she gets to Dadans place they give her some bandages to heal up and she explains why she wear her clothing like this. Ace and luffy dont care, Ace still suspicous. Sabo intense listing. (So basically women in islam wear theses clothing because The hijab is about observing modesty and according to Islamic law should begin from the age of puberty. In Islam's sacred book, the Qur'an, two verses talk about the notion of hijab and how modesty should be observed by both Muslim men and women)
Sorry if this is to much
-You’re not completely sure where you were. It had been about two days since the storm that hit the ship your family was on, sending you into the rough waters below.
-You woke up, luckily, on a nearby island, after being unable to swim, but you were by yourself, you couldn’t see anyone else from the ship, the crew you had gotten to know or your family, there was nobody.
-You adjusted your hijab after removing your hood, only for a moment, making sure everything was covered and secure before you made sure your appearance was acceptable before you started walking through the dense forest, looking for someone else who would hopefully help you.
-You found some fruit trees along your way, picking just two for the moment, eating as you walked, listening for the sounds of other people, but so far there wasn’t any luck.
-You entered a small clearing, one that looked like it had been cleared out for a campsite, but here was no evidence of anyone being there for days, which made you pout slightly, a sigh leaving your lips.
-The wind picked up a bit and you held your hands to your cheeks, to keep your hood from blowing upwards, halting for just a moment before you heard a sound of something hitting a tree and you looked up, seeing a simple straw hat with a bright red band around it.
-This was a sign of civilization! Or so you hoped, as it was man-made as you picked up the hat before putting it on your head, to shield your eyes a bit as you looked around.
-It was only moments later when you heard a voice, “Give me back my hat!!” you turned, seeing a young boy, a small scar on his cheek, leaping out of the bushes to attack you.
-Your eyes went wide, only for a moment, before you dodged his blow, ducking down and he slammed into the tree behind you.
-You turned quickly, worried he had hurt himself but before you could ask him you heard two more voices, “Get away from Luffy!!” you saw two more boys, one with blond hair, wearing what looked to be a suit, and a boy who looked similar to Luffy, with freckles across his cheeks, both of them holding weapons.
-You ducked down again, dodging their weapons before you leg sweeped Ace, sending him to the ground before you rolled out of Sabo’s wait, “Wait I’m not-” you squeaked, only barely dodging another blow from Luffy who swung at you again.
-Sabo was the one who froze before he whacked both Ace and Luffy on their heads with his fist, sending them both to the ground with lumps on their heads, “That’s a girl!”
-A few minutes later you handed Luffy his hat back, after you explained you found it while looking for other people. Luffy beamed at you, “Thanks for finding my hat Y/N! It blew off when we were fighting earlier!”
-You were confused, tilting your head to the side, “Why were you guys fighting?” Sabo explained they fought every day to get stronger, but this time Ace hit him, “Shut up! Don’t tell this spy what we’re doing!”
-You blinked, your eyes going wide before you held a hand to your chest, “You think I’m a spy?!” the three looked at you, Sabo looking sheepish, Luffy smiling, and Ace glaring before Luffy spoke, “That’s what we all decided you were- that or an assassin, since you look like a ninja!”
-You tilted your head to the other side, “What’s a ninja?” they all looked at you, a bit surprised by your words before Ace sighed out loudly, “Fine. Let’s take you to Dadan, she would know what to do with you.”
-You thanked him warmly for his help, which made his cheeks burn, hearing your words as he turned, bristling lightly, “Yeah whatever!”
-Needless to say, when you arrived at Dadan’s place, the home of the Mountain Bandits, she and the others weren’t pleased to see a fourth child there, Dadan quickly yelling at the three boys for bringing another mouth to feed.
-By the end of the day, you were Dadan’s favorite.
-You told her and the others of the storm you had been caught in, before falling overboard and waking up on this island, and how you were looking for others to help you find your family or your ship.
-Dadan agreed to help, sending out some of her men to try to gather information and you thanked her warmly, agreeing to help where you could, to pay back her kindness, which quickly earned you brownie points with her.
-During dinner, Dadan asked you about your clothes, as she had never seen anything like it before. You explained that in your religion, as stated in your holy book, the Qur’an, which stated that both men and women should observe modesty while out in public, and this is how you were taught to dress by your family.
-Many thought it was a bit odd, as they had never heard anything like that before, Luffy and Sabo weren’t bothered, mainly because Luffy was convinced you were a ninja, but Ace wasn’t so sure, still not trusting you. But then again he was like that with everyone.
-Dadan was okay with your explanation, as she voiced, “There’s a whole world out there with different cultures and religions boys. Once you’re strong enough to get out of my house you can go find them.”
-Luffy cheered at the prospect of adventure, something Sabo and Ace couldn’t help but grin at, and you couldn’t help but smile, seeing their sense of adventure. It was refreshing really, as you wanted to explore as well, going on an adventure.
-You couldn’t wait to find out what tomorrow held for you, looking at it as an adventure, in a sense, as you smiled, glad that you had found such good people to help you in your time of need.
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thecleverqueer · 2 days
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I don’t know. Maybe I mis-read the story, but I felt like the Ahsoka series wasn’t necessarily anti-Jedi. It felt more like Ahsoka finally accepted that she could actually be a Jedi after years of her believing that she was unworthy of doing that, and thereby giving her the right to pass on what she learned.
To preface, I do think her lineage had a problem with following rules. Obviously. Even Yoda broke rules when he went off on his trippy force adventure with Qui-Gon in the sixth season of TCW. It wasn’t that they all went against the Jedi teachings (save Anakin… which I won’t get into right now; I would possibly even argue for Dooku, but he was misguided and definitely did not go about anything in the right way), they just didn’t follow protocol. Most of them at least embraced Jedi philosophy (once again, save Anakin). They often broke rules and protocol loudly, but I can appreciate that as someone who hates the status quo and stringent rules. I say this to partially explain why Ahsoka often butted heads with Huyang about Jedi protocol. It’s not Jedi critical on a philosophical level as much as it is critiquing the protocols.
Now with that being said, let me talk about Ahsoka... Particularly, where Ahsoka was in her series and how that changes by the end of it:
Ahsoka struggled with the fact that she’d been trained as a soldier. Jedi were not soldiers; they were peace keepers. Ahsoka says as much to Rex on the Venator right before Order 66 was executed. She was incredibly torn by this. Ultimately, I believe it’s what caused her to leave the order in the first place. She listened to the words Barriss said, and agreed wholeheartedly. She couldn’t be part of the order as she was not a Jedi, but a warrior. It’s not that she didn’t want to be a Jedi, she DID want to be a Jedi. She just felt as if she no longer knew how to do that, or perhaps, couldn’t do that based on what she’d been doing.
It’s the main thing that she is stuck on when she had her flashbacks with Anakin in the World-Between-Worlds dream state. She struggled with her past. She was unable to reconcile the actions that she was forced to take during the war with her Jedi training that specifically told her not to do that. She mentioned that it wasn’t what she trained for, and by the time she was fighting the Siege of Mandalore, she only saw herself as a fighter. And, it’s something you saw in her character at the beginning of her series. She’s quick to draw her blades and come at you. She does not hesitate to fight Baylon at the reflex point on Seetos. It had unbalanced her, and that’s why she lost the fight.
Anakin basically told her that she’s more than just a warrior. All of the knowledge that came before him, the wisdom of Yoda, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, lived on through her. She was part of a legacy. Still, she struggled because of what Anakin became, and was hesitant to share the knowledge that she possessed in fear of planting dark seeds. It’s why he told her that she lacked conviction. In Rebels, Ahsoka was trying to convince everyone including herself that she was not a Jedi, and it was a culmination of all of her trauma. This was the moment that she must live (and let it go of said trauma), or die and literally drown with it.
In the end, Ahsoka chose to live, and the white robes weren’t the only thing about her that had changed. In her second battle with Baylon, she’s not as quick to draw her blades. She’s more worried about finding Ezra and Sabine. It’s not that she was completely unwilling to fight, but the fight wasn’t what it is all about. She mentioned this to Sabine as well when she told her that “being a Jedi is more than just wielding a lightsaber.” Ahsoka released the trauma, and embraced her Jedi past. It was not explicitly stated, but it definitely felt implied.
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plenilunaris-m · 6 months
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He means she beat him with her sword and not (1) hand / fist, right? Right?
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whetstonefires · 11 months
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You know what I realize that people underestimate with Pride & Prejudice is the strategic importance of Jane.
Because like, I recently saw Charlotte and Elizabeth contrasted as the former being pragmatic and the latter holding out for a love match, because she's younger and prettier and thinks she can afford it, and that is very much not what's happening.
The Charlotte take is correct, but the Elizabeth is all wrong. Lizzie doesn't insist on a love match. That's serendipitous and rather unexpected. She wants, exactly as Mr. Bennet says, someone she can respect. Contempt won't do. Mr. Bennet puts it in weirdly sexist terms like he's trying to avoid acknowledging what he did to himself by marrying a self-absorbed idiot, but it's still true. That's what Elizabeth is shooting for: a marriage that won't make her unhappy.
She's grown up watching how miserable her parents make one another; she's not willing to sign up for a lifetime of being bitter and lonely in her own home.
I think she is very aware, in refusing Mr. Collins, that it's reasonably unlikely that anyone she actually respects is going to want her, with her few accomplishments and her lack of property. That she is turning down security and the chance keep the house she grew up in, and all she gets in return may be spinsterhood.
But, crucially, she has absolute faith in Jane.
The bit about teaching Jane's daughters to embroider badly? That's a joke, but it's also a serious potential life plan. Jane is the best creature in the world, and a beauty; there's no chance at all she won't get married to someone worthwhile.
(Bingley mucks this up by breaking Jane's heart, but her prospects remain reasonable if their mother would lay off!)
And if Elizabeth can't replicate that feat, then there's also no doubt in her mind that Jane will let her live in her house as a dependent as long as she likes, and never let it be made shameful or awful to be that impoverished spinster aunt. It will be okay never to be married at all, because she has her sister, whom she trusts absolutely to succeed and to protect her.
And if something eventually happens to Jane's family and they can't keep her anymore, she can throw herself upon the mercy of the Gardeners, who have money and like her very much, and are likewise good people. She has a support network--not a perfect or impregnable one, but it exists. It gives her realistic options.
Spinsterhood was a very dangerous choice; there are reasons you would go to considerable lengths not to risk it.
But Elizabeth has Jane, and her pride, and an understanding of what marrying someone who will make you miserable costs.
That's part of the thesis of the book, I would say! Recurring Austen thought. How important it is not to marry someone who will make you, specifically, unhappy.
She would rather be a dependent of people she likes and trusts than of someone she doesn't, even if the latter is formally considered more secure; she would rather live in a happy, reasonable household as an extra than be the mistress of her own home, but that home is full of Mr. Collins and her mother.
This is a calculation she's making consciously! She's not counting on a better marriage coming along. She just feels the most likely bad outcome from refusing Mr. Collins is still much better than the certain outcome of accepting him. Which is being stuck with Mr. Collins forever.
Elizabeth is also being pragmatic. Austen also endorses her choice, for the person she is and the concerns she has. She's just picking different trade-offs than Charlotte.
Elizabeth's flaw is not in her own priorities; she doesn't make a reckless choice and get lucky. But in being unable to accept that Charlotte's are different, and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with Charlotte.
Because realistically, when your marriage is your whole family and career forever, and you only get to pick the ones that offer themselves to you, when you are legally bound to the status of dependent, you're always going to be making some trade-offs.
😂 Even the unrealistically ideal dream scenario of wealthy handsome clever ethical Mr. Darcy still asks you to undergo personal growth, accommodate someone else's communication style, and eat a little crow.
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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Okay we also see Alastor go ham and how wifey swoons over him but now what if wifey let lose, like someone threatens him or the hotel and before anyone could react she dashes forward killing them brutally and mercilessly?
🥵
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Violence, Blood, Wifey is crazy, Suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
Not many people know that Alastor's wife is a badass, mostly because you're content to watch and support your husband on the sidelines
But that doesn't mean you aren't your own kind of terrifying, you're a bad bitch and that's how you pulled your husband
He knows you can take care of yourself and loves it when you put someone in their place, he even likes it when you put him in his place 😏
Everyone is so used to Alastor protecting you that they never consider what you're capable of, your husband is just being a gentleman
But Alastor knows this and looks forward to the times you want to handle things yourself
Someone is harassing you on the street? Being crude and disgusting to you because they assume you're just some random dame?
Your husband simply looks at you to see if you want him to handle it or not, he would love to teach this punk a lesson for you
But he gets excited when you shake your head and start taking off your jewelry, holding his hand out to hold it for you
"Oh? Do come back dirty for me, I'll lick you clean~"
"Promise?"
He just watches you pummel the street urchin with a satisfied smile on his face, letting out a lovesick sigh at the sound of your victim's screams
"Isn't she a vision, Husker? Look at the way the blood drips down her body~ Absolute poetry in motion~"
Husk just sighs and chugs a bottle of booze, already so done with the two of you
"Yeah, uh, she's really somethin'..."
Alastor lets out a happy hum and turns back to watch you, completely enamored by the sight of you
"She really is~"
You try to help your husband in a fight? Well suddenly its just you figuring because Alastor stops to watch the show
"Alastor, aren't you going to help her..?"
He almost doesn't hear Charlie speaking to him, a cloud of hearts practically fluttering around him as he stares at you, frozen in place
"And deprive myself of this beautiful sight? Now, that would be a true sin... Look to your left, my dear!"
He actually has to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his blush when you spin around and impale them, blowing your husband a kiss
"Thank you, darling~"
His tail is wiggling with happiness, dramatically catching the kiss and keeping it close to his heart
Charlie thinks at some point she hears him whistling at you but she doesn't want to look and confirm
Or when someone tries to hurt your family, Alastor has seen you lose your shit because you caught someone trying to assassinate him
One moment, he's relaxed and snuggling with his darling wife and the next, he hears a crash and sees you throwing the attacker across the room
And he'll be damned if he doesn't say that it does something to him to see you like that
You're practically feral as you tear apart the screaming demon, a blinding rage taking you over
"How dare you come into MY HOME! Try to hurt MY HUSBAND!"
Alastor is nearly blushing, flustered and pulling on his collar as he watches you defend him like he's some helpless little demon
"Darling, you sure do know how to make your husband hot under the collar, don't you~?"
He catches one of your hands mid strike and takes you out of your rage, unable to stop himself from kissing your blood covered face
He can't help it, seeing you so angry and violent reminds him of when he first met you-
The would-be-attacker is still alive, a weak hand coming up to grab at your ankle when you suddenly use your own powers to finish him off
You're too busy being kissed and fondled by your husband to devote any more attention to them
He hoists you up suddenly, your legs wrapping around him as he steps over the body of your victim, leaving the room to take you upstairs instead
He nuzzles his face against your neck, distracting you from glaring at the corpse in the other room
"Do you think you could toss me like that, darling?"
"Alastor~!"
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Wifey is just a doll 😍
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thehighladywrites · 4 months
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“JUST ONE MORE, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.”
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⋆˙⟡ pairing: rhysand x reader, inner circle makes an appearance , madja makes an appearance
⋆˙⟡ summary: feeling ready to finally have kids, you tell rhys who is over the moon. madja gives you a special tea to help boost ovulation. how does that turn out for you?
⋆˙⟡ warnings: a fuckton of smut, fluff, rhys cries, so does reader, breeding, aphrodisiacs ( i think ), boosting tea, pregnancy, pregnancy smut ig, Big dick daddy construction worker Rhys😍😍, protective rhys like super protective, obsession and possession. Rhys develops a new obsession with reader🤷🏽‍♀️
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i need a break. holy fuck. also, can i go next🧎🏽‍♀️ Plus english isn’t my first language so if there’s any errors or mistakes, i’m sorry😭💗
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“is that what you’ll be teaching our children, darling? To be snappy when someone asks you something?”
Rhysand took great pleasure in provoking a reaction from you. Your day had been rough, with even the slightest annoyances causing you to snap at him. From criticizing his breakfast chewing to berating his small handwriting in his reports, your frustration peaked when rhys playfully teased, leading you to unleash a stream of unpleasant words.
And now, he was dangerously close to you kicking him out of your bedroom. You stood there, making the bed with him on the other side as you tucked in the sheets on either side.
“Fuck off, Rhys. I'm teaching my kids that their father holds the title for being the most annoying ass in Prythian's history. They'll also be well-informed about your love for relentless teasing. I'll caution them to steer clear, as mommy doesn't want them influenced by your habit of being an annoying provocateur,” you flashed him a fake smile before tugging the sheets from his hands.
His laughter resonated through the room as he threw his head back, closing the distance with a confident step. Looking you up and down, he met you face to face, his eyes filled with mirth and a touch of affection.
“Let's pray to the Mother that they don't inherit your bratty behavior,” he teased, flicking your nose, enjoying your reaction.
“And yes, before you can come up with some crude insult, you're without a doubt the most pouty, bratty, headstrong person I've ever encountered.” His smile held a mix of playfulness and genuine fondness.
“I should feel insulted, but strangely, I don't,” you admitted with a smile. Playfully ushering him back to his side of the bed, you continued fixing the sheets, ready to settle in for the night.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Lying awake, Rhys's words echoed in your mind. The thought of having children together stirred a mix of excitement and doubt. The responsibilities of being the high lord and high lady of the Night Court loomed large, and the question of balancing it with parenthood lingered. Despite the uncertainties, a deep yearning surfaced – a want to put more focus on kids and maybe ease of the work load.
Unable to sleep, you chose to scoot closer to your mate as you put your head on his pillow, running your hand through his hair and finding comfort in the rhythm of his shallow breathing.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The bell chimed as you entered Madja's clinic, finding it empty. You weren't supposed to be there; you had told Rhys you weren't feeling well to avoid going to the Hewn City with him. He grew concerned and insisted on staying, but after some persuasion, he reluctantly left. Now, you had the perfect opportunity to visit the healer in secret.
“Hello? Madja, are you here?”Your voice echoed in the empty clinic. After a long pause, you turned to leave, but just as you did, Madja opened a door, wearing gloves and a mask, looking confused.
“Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” You all loved Madja deeply as she was like a second mother to everyone. She expressed concern, worry evident in her eyes. You reassured her, mentioning that nothing was wrong. She nodded, explaining she had a patient and would be done in a few minutes. Madja suggested making yourself some tea and taking a seat while you waited.
After a while, Madja finished with her patient and led you into her office. She took her place behind the big table, and you sat in front of her, ready for whatever conversation lay ahead.
“What can I help you with today?”
Taking a deep breath, you opened up about your desires. “I wish to get pregnant, and I wanted to know if there's anything to know beforehand. My grandmother was Illyrian, so I think I could carry the babe, but is there any more information I should know about?”
Your words hung in the air, waiting for Madja's guidance.
A warm smile graced Madja's face as she took your hand.
“Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. Fae pregnancies are rare, and it might take a few years of trying before you see any results. Don't get discouraged; it's normal, and it generally takes a few decades for couples to be blessed with a babe. But let me check your bones to see if you're ideal for pregnancy.” Madja's hands emitted a golden glow as she held yours, assuring you that your bones were indeed a match and that you would be able to carry your and Rhysand's children.
You thanked her with a hug and stood up, ready to leave to tell Rhysand that you were ready. But you were still nervous about how long it would take. Decades seemed like a long time and you just hoped you wouldn’t get disappointed in yourself.
Madja seemed to sense your sprialing thoughts and directed you to the medicine room. She handed you a packet of some sort or herb or leaf. You looked at her with confusion asking her what this was.
Madja explained, “It's a special tea made to boost ovulation. Both of you should drink it before trying, but I have to warn you, it does have side effects. The tea activates a primal need, making you both feel like the first day of the mating bond. There will be possession and jealousy, and a strong chance of fighting unwanted guests. Some patients of mine have almost killed someone because their mates were looked at too long. Males typically get very possessive during conception so don’t be surprised if he snaps at someone who’s too close. So, again, only do this when you're alone.”
The gravity of her words settled in as she outlined the potential intensity of the tea. You nod thanking her again before winnowing back to the house.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Rhysand was pissed off and tired as fuck. The entire night was a mess, thanks to the annoying council. He toyed with the idea of going back and killing them all but thought checking on you might be a better move. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, and irritation etched deep lines on his face.
Rhysand walked into the house, absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt until he halted in his tracks as he passed the kitchen. Something caught his attention, and he turned, curious about what was happening.
Rhysand was taken aback by what he saw. There you were, clad in tank top and shorts, preparing food in the middle of the night. He thought you were seriously unwell, given that you couldn't get out of bed earlier. Worried, he approached,
“Love, what are you doing up? Please, let me take you back to bed. I'll finish it up and bring it to you, okay?”
You warmly smiled at his concern but shook your head. “I'm fine, baby. I'm not sick. I'll explain everything. Just sit down at the table, and I'll be there in a minute.”
He raised his brow and you with amusement,
“So, you just didn’t want to go to the meeting? You should have told me; we could have skipped together. They were driving me crazy today. Kier wanted a higher position, Lord Orlon wanted more money, and everyone just wanted more and more and more.” His frustration with the incessant demands from the council echoed in his words.
You couldn’t help feeling guilty at the weariness in his eyes, you pouted and stepped closer, standing between his legs. Gently, you brought his head to your chest, cradling and kissing it. His arms wrapped around your middle immediately as you cooed comforting words, offering solace in the warmth of your embrace while stroking his hair gently.
“Aww, I'm so sorry, honey. I promise I'll never let you go alone. What can I do to cheer you up?”
He raised his head, mischief in his eyes, and his hands roamed up your tank top, grazing your waist and the sides of your boobs.
“I can think of something that'll earn you my forgiveness.” His playful tone sparked heat in you and you almost lost focus as you entertained the thought of Rhys’s offer. But you shook your head and smirked at him.
“Did you forget I had something to tell you? You’re quite insatiable, you know?”
He slumped his head on your chest, planting a kiss on the covered area as he warmly chuckled. Drawing you closer, he settled you in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Rhys gazed up at you with enchanting deep violet eyes, their subtle twinkle a sight you adored.
Inhaling deeply, you contemplated ripping off the bandaid. It should be fine, right? He's always discussed future children, their names, rules for them, etc. Yet, despite everything, a touch of nerves crept in.
Rhys, sensing your hesitation, securely gripped your waist, assuring you that you could share anything with him.
“Rhys, sweetheart, I'm ready to officially try for children. Are you on board? I know you've talked about wanting kids, but is it still something you still want-”
Rhysand embraced you tenderly, tears of joy gliding down his cheeks. He buried his tear-streaked face in the warmth of your neck, softly murmuring his heartfelt thanks, each word carrying a sweetness only you could inspire.
His tears triggered an emotional response in you, prompting happy tears to well up as you smiled tenderly at him.
“It would be my highest honor to have children with you, my love.”
Rhys kissed you, chuckling, drawing you closer and peppering tiny kisses all over your face, eliciting joyful laughter from you.
“While you were away, I chatted with Madja, and she shared some tips about conceiving. She mentioned it might take a bit, so she's advising not to worry if it doesn't happen right away. She even gave me this special tea that's supposed to boost ovulation and help speed up the process. What do you say we give it a shot tomorrow or tonight?”
Rhys grinned mischievously, “Well, it's a bit surprising I haven’t already gotten you pregnant, but I guess Madja's tea might just be the secret ingredient we need.”
“I agree, Mr. Cocky, your charms might need a backup plan.” Your smile wavered as he got closer to your neck, and it completely faltered when he gently blew air on your neck before giving a playful bite.
You trembled, grabbing rhys’s shoulders to steady yourself as he kept nipping lower and lower. He palmed your tits through your thin tank, pulling and pinching on your nipples, marvelling at your scrunched up face of pleasure.
His finger moved to trail down the arch of your back while he unwrapped your legs from around his waist.
“Let's free you from these,” he murmured, gently hooking your shorts by the elastic and sliding them down to your thighs. Granting you a brief moment, he allowed you space to stand and shimmy them down to your feet, casting them aside with a tender ease.
Your confirmation to having kids flipped a switch in his brain. Numerous times had you stopped by nurseries to admire the cute babies, helped lost children find their mothers in the town square, babysat for your friends that had kids. Rhysand’s mind was filled with you carrying your child on your hip, you and him sitting down teaching them everything they needed to learn.
The mere thought of getting you full of his children, your heirs and the fact that you would carry your children, made him impossibly hard. You belonged to him, and soon, the world would see the evidence in your growing belly. It was his way of making sure everyone knew he had claimed you for good, in the most intimate and lasting manner possible.
Rhysand gazed up at you, his eyes veiled by thick lashes, filled with a darkened desire. His pupils dilated, larger than you'd ever seen, revealing the intensity of the lust that consumed him.
“I’m going to get you nice and knocked up by the end of the month, fuck what Madja said. I’m putting a baby in you soon enough, don’t worry about a thing. Just lay down and let me work on it, what do you say, sweetheart?”
His raspy, desperate voice sent cold shivers down your spine and arm. You mindlessly nod, begging for him to start.
“ Please, baby… make me a mother…” you ask so sweetly and nicely, rhys could never say no to you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Throughout that night, the following morning, and the entire subsequent day, Rhysand kept you awake, leaving little room for sleep. In the span of those days, you only paused for food, as he fucked you to the edge of insanity. Perhaps you should have considered that you'd chosen the most powerful man in history as your baby daddy— of course he’d have no trouble fulfilling his task with relentless success.
Rhys's eyes had darkened with a singular focus – getting you pregnant. He worshipped your body, treating you like a deity with every touch, as if you were the subject of his devoted prayers.
He had stopped for maybe half an hour to research the most ideal positions for baby making and had put you in them atleast twice, much to your exhaustion and pleasure.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Reluctantly, you both knew you couldn't remain secluded from your responsibilities forever. The rulers of the court could only be inaccessible for a limited time, forcing you to eventually confront the outside world.
“Baby, we need to go soon, remember?” You found yourself trapped between his sturdy arms, lying beneath him on the soft bed with your legs wrapped around his middle. His kisses on your neck and grew more intense, leaving behind a trail of increasingly visible bruises.
Expressing disapproval with a sound, he playfully nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mix of laughter and a gasp from you simultaneously.
Rhysand absolutely hated the idea of leaving the haven of warmth and love you two had created. He cherished the solitude you shared, not wanting to face the world's challenges.
All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in the tender embrace of his mate, savoring the moments of closeness and hoping for a future filled with just the two of you.
“Darling, I'd ditch the whole Night Court for a bit more of your love. The outside world's a drag compared to your warmth. What do you say we skip the ruling and responsabilities and keep our own little haven, just the two of us?”
Summoning the will to decline felt nearly impossible; you genuinely, sooo badly, really didn't want to leave the room until everything was done. Explaining your perspective to him, you made a deal that if you both tackled just dinner first, you'd be all his afterward. With reluctance, he got up, the two of you quickly freshened up, taking a hot shower and got dressed for dinner with your friends.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Making your way to the dining room, you were met by Cassian with a teasing grin,
“Well, well, well. Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living. I was starting to think you'd built a permanent nest in there. Ready for the real world or still basking in the afterglow?”
Catching a glimpse of Rhysand's impassive expression, it was clear he was beyond unamused as his eyes zeroed in on Cassian. You knew him well enough to sense that Cassian's continued teasing might push him to snap, especially considering his reluctance to be outside with the others now that he was trying to put a baby on you.
“Cass, I wouldn’t. Let's just enjoy the meal,” you said, clapping your hands with an exaggerated smile. Taking Rhysand by the hand, you guided him to the table, hoping to diffuse any tension and shift the focus to the meal.
You stuck to him like glue, even following him when he stood to get another bottle of wine. Sitting on another chair was out of the question. Instead, you made yourself comfortable in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You purred at his warmth and safety, wondering why the hell you even accepted this dinner in the first place. You'd much rather stay under warm covers in your bed with him by your side.
In these past few days, Rhysand had become remarkably possessive aswell. Normally unfazed by casual gestures from friends like hugs or pats on the shoulder, he surprised himself. When you and Azriel reached for the salt at the same time, Rhysand instinctively pulled you back, narrowing his eyes at Az as if marking his territory.
Azriel, ever perceptive, observed the tension, smiled to himself and wisely chose not to escalate the situation. He sensed a new energy surrounding you both, noticing how much you clung to each other. He nodded toward the salt, indicating you should take it first, showing he had the sense not to get in the middle of whatever was transpiring between you and Rhysand. It was something Cassian would usually dive headfirst into. The guy had a knack for finding trouble, and Azriel clearly wanted no part in it.
The dinner proceeded with everyone staying clear from you and Rhys. Usually, you'd playfully scold him for being overly possessive, telling him to ease up on the overbearing bat act. However, you relished in his attention and protective demeanor. Madja had told you this would happen but you didn’t realize it would apply to your family.
Right, Madja. You had almost forgotten about the tea she'd given you, the one to speed up the pregnancy process. With your friends leaving after dinner, whether they wanted to or not, it seemed like the perfect time to test it out.
Gazing at Rhysand beside you, you communicated your thoughts silently, begging him to try the tea out with you and then going back to your previous activities. He nodded in understanding. Sitting up straight, he glanced at everyone.
“I need all of you leave, right now,” he stated calmly, sipping his drink with the usual nonchalance.
Everyone paused mid-chew, glancing at Rhysand with confusion. Azriel swiftly vanished into his shadows, and Amren departed without so much as a goodbye. Mor and Cassian remained, bewildered, as they questioned the sudden disruption.
“What? Why? I'm not even done eating,” Mor protested.
Rhysand narrowed his eyes, flicking his hand and cleared the table.
"There. I moved everything to your own table in your apartment. Now, get out," he gritted, and they hurriedly made their exit, with Cassian managing a loud laugh before leaving.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The kettle's whistle grew louder as you were lost in Rhysand's lips. Seated on the table, his arms on either side of you, the moment was pure delight, your hands traveling his body as you toyed with the waistband of his pants. The whistle became unbearable, forcing you to reluctantly break the kiss as you sighed and made your way to brew the tea. The leaves, red and golden, intensified in color as you poured the boiling water in.
“Darling, that looks deceptively inviting. Like it would lure us in with its pretty colors and then make our hearts stop,” he joked, joining you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, playfully holding you in a mock chokehold.
“Huh, deceptively inviting... sounds a lot like someone I know,” you teased, lazily kissing the strong forearm wrapped around your throat. His laughter resonated, his chest rumbling, and you felt the vibrations, savoring the moment.
He kissed your temple before letting you go, guiding you back to the table to drink the tea. Both of you nodded in agreement before simultaneously downing the concoction. The taste left you both with a disgusted expression as you placed the empty cups back on the table.
“That tastes like shit. Did Madja say what it was made of?”
You scrunched your face at the aftertaste before replying,
“I find it best not to ask her anymore. Remember the time she had us all eating that soup with fermented fish guts as a cure for that winter fever?”
You shudder at the memory of everyone lying in the hospital, with Madja taking care of the lot of you. It dawned on you that she was feeding you stuff that would've made you even sicker if you found out then. The taste of the mysterious tea was the least of your worries compared to Madja's unconventional remedies.
Rhysand shook his head at the unpleasant memory,
“You’re right. I’d rather not know.”
You giggled at his words, before standing up and putting the cups in the sink. Turning around, you looked at Rhysand with a tilted head, wondering if he was feeling anything because you certainly weren’t.
“Rhysie, are you feeling anything? I’m not sure if it’s taking extra long for the tea to activate or something but I’m not feeling anything yet.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, pondering your words for a moment.
“Honestly, I don’t feel any different either. Maybe it's just a placebo effect or Madja's way of amusing herself with our reactions. Either way, we'll survive it.”
You nodded at his words, yes that made sense.
“Okay, let’s go to my office and catch up on some reports while we wait for the effects to kick in.”
You both headed to your office, the boring tasks providing a welcome distraction while the mysterious tea's potential effects lingered in the background. As you delved into work, the anticipation of what might unfold kept a subtle excitement in the air.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
An hour in Rhysand was starting to feel uncomfortable. His forehead and neck was starting to feel warm and he mindlessly unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt for some extra cooling.
You on the other hand still felt nothing, if anything, you started feeling very sleepy, eyelids heavy as you tried blinking back the tiredness that washed over you.
“I’m feeling really tired, rhys. Can you take me upstairs?” your voice was low and laced with sleep, complete opposite of your mate.
Not being able to find his voice, he stood up from the chaise, his movements more desperate, and walked over to you before bending down and picking you up.
Something that should've been a mundane task.
However, this time he couldn’t help but notice the difference in size, how easy he could pick you up in his arms, how your boobs moved under your shirt, the way the curve of your ass pressed against him with every move, the softness of your skin and the intoxicatingly sweet smell of you. A low, suppressed growl vibrated through him as he tightened his hold, relishing the warmth and unmistakable presence of his mate.
A possessive and obsessive surge overwhelmed him as he held you, an intoxicating certainty that you belonged to him, and he had earned every inch of your love and affection.
Rhysand was utterly obsessed with you, he showed in the way he was watching you like a hawk while he put you down on the soft bed, tucking you under a blanket.
Rhys knelt by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. His pupils dilated so much, transforming the familiar violet of his eyes into a dark, almost black shade. His face and chest had taken on a dark shade of blush, as blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your peaceful form.
He couldn’t look away when you turned around, blanket having rolled up, showing him the lenght of your legs, so smooth and soft, Normally, the sight wouldn’t have made him behave like some sort of teenager seeing a girls tits for the first time and it made him feel like a disgusting pervert. Here his mate laid, unaware that he was lusting over something as juvenile as her leg.
Deep down, he didn’t really care. Rhysand felt like he was on top of the world.
Waves of pleasure surged through him, heightening his senses and intensifying every touch and sensation, the feeling of the sheets against his palms sent electric waves through his body. The world around him seemed to shimmer with and a blissful euphoria enveloped him, creating an intoxicating sensation that left him utterly captivated.
You stirred, sensing Rhys kneeling by the bed. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him, his gaze locked on your sleeping form. His eyes, once a familiar violet, now darkened to a deep, almost black hue.
The effects of the tea finally kicked in, and your body responded with waves of pleasure. Your heartbeat quickened, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as you fixated on the rhythmic sound of Rhysand's heavy breaths. A searing warmth pooled in the lower part of your stomach, almost like molten lava, urging you to clench your legs, all while a whimper threatened to escape your lips.
Feeling overwhelmed, you sought relief in the bathroom, flinging off the blanket and splashing cold water on your face and chest. Bracing yourself on the sink, you took a few deep breaths before returning to your room. As you opened the door, eyes lowered, you collided with something soft yet firm. Looking up, you found Rhysand, gazing at you with a tilted head, as if studying you like a puzzle.
“Oh, hi baby, didn’t see-”
Before you could finish the sentence, he pounced on you, grabbing the back of your head as he crushed your lips against his. Your eyes widened in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing his biceps to steady yourself.
His other hand wrapped around your waist, forcefully pulling your body towards him, leaving no room for any space. As his front pressed against yours, you felt his hard erection poking at your stomach.
A desperate need for more coursed through your veins like a wildfire, the tea intensifying every sensation. Your nipples tightened, craving his touch with an almost primal hunger. In his arms, you practically melted at his animalistic touch.
It all felt so fucking good, you thought you’d come just by kissing him. You moaned loudly when he started licking and kissing your neck, gently biting your earlobe before going back to giving you hickies.
Tears formed in your eyes as you brought a hand down your panties, hoping to relieve yourself before it got too much, however frustration filled you as your efforts were wasted. No matter how much you rutted against your fingers, it wasn’t enough. If only made you more needy and frustrated.
“no, t’s not working, please mate, please touch me. need you so badly”
Your tears eventually fell as you whined, face covered in salty tears as you begged your man for more, more of him, more of anything.
The desperation in your voice prompted Rhysand to pick you up and drag you to bed, gently pushing you into it. He swiftly undressed before pulling you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ripping of whatever clothes you had on. An animalistic move if anything but it made you even more wet.
“We’re not fucking leaving until I get you pregnant. I need you nice and round, filled with my cum, do you understand?“
His words were gritted, as if he was holding himself back, restrained by an invisible force.
You nodded, desperate for him.
“Please, let me make you a daddy.”
With a low rumbling growl he throws your legs over his shoulders and ruts into you so hard, the entire bed starts shaking. He bullies his big cock in you as you squirm, trying to initially get away as if you’ve never been fucked by him before. Rhys doesn’t slow down because he knows you can take it, he knows that you’re his equal, made for him as he is for you. And when you beg him to go harder he only smiles wickedly, satisfied that he knows you inside and out.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
You don’t remember know how many times he has finished in you.
You're crying uncontrollably and struggling to breathe. Rhysand gives you a gentle smile and plants a kiss on your swollen lips. His cock throbs at that fucked out expression in your eyes, and he has to look away to avoid blowing his load too soon. His mouth tucks itself into the curve of your neck. Your skin slapping continues as those quick thrusts fill the room.
If he didn’t have his hands around your legs to keep them up, they’d have fallen down ages ago. Your whole body feels loose and sloppy, a stupid, fucked out smile on your face as your teary eyes roll back in pleasure.
“Shhh, baby it’s okay. Let me fill you up again. I promise it will feel so, so good.”
You nod absentmindedly as you both come for the umpteenth time.
He was paying close attention to how your hole tightened around him, his sloppy thrusts making the white ring around the base of his dick drip with even more cum.
“You’re so fucking good to me, baby. Gonna look so pretty with your belly all round with my babies.”
His head was thrown back, eyebrows scrunched and jaw slightly dropped as he slowly thrusted in and out, milking the high before he pulled out and slumped forward, making you whine at the feeling. His sweaty body rested on top of yours, and his head lay on your rising and falling chest. His hair was damp, and with a shaking hand, you ran your fingers through it.
“I’ll clean you up in a second, darling.” Just as he was getting up you wrapped your legs around his waist. He scooped you up, arm around your ass as he brought you to the shower to clean you up. Rhys didn't put you down, knowing you might fall, so he washed you while you clung to him.
After the much needed shower, he wrapped you both in a huge fluffy towel and magically changed the sheets as he brushed you hair and put you in one of his shirts.
“Rhysie?”
“Yes, love?”
“That shower was a mighty waste. I think I need you to fuck me one more time, please?”
His eyebrows rose at your words. Never did he think you’d say anything like that. His initial shock was replaced by a proud laugh.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”
And he did.
He gave you two more orgasms, and just as he was ready to pull out after dumping his load, you wrapped your legs around him and begged him not to pull out.
Rhys gave you a soft kiss and pulled you closer as you finally slept, exhaustion pulling you into a deep slumber.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
There wasn't much surprise when he successfully put not just one but two babies in you, twins.
Rhysand's male pride was on overdrive. Twins were really rare, and the fact that he managed to knock you up with them in less than a month was almost cause for a celebration. Well, he would throw a party if he didn't grow so damn protective.
If you thought Rhysand was protective when trying for a child, then this Rhysand was on another level. He actually gritted his teeth at Madja after she put her cold fingers on your body, making you hiss.
Let’s not even discuss when your belly started showing…
The moment he learned of your pregnancy, Rhys acted swiftly, weaving layers of intricate shields around you. It wasn't merely about your safety; it was a manifestation of his deep obsession. The shields were a fortress protecting not only you but also the sweet new scent you emitted, a fragrance that had sparked an intense possessiveness within him.
Rhys had become utterly obsessed with that unique scent, ready to unleash his fury upon anyone who dared to get too close and catch even the faintest whiff of something that was sacredly reserved for him alone.
During the announcement for your friends, the presence of Rhysand by your side, standing assertively close, made them wary of getting close to you. As you both stood together, your radiant happiness contrasted against his dark, protective demeanor.
You were a bit bummed, wondering why no one wanted to hug you or atleast shake your hand, then you took one glance at him and let out a sigh as you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, please. They’re not going to eat me alive, baby. It’s fine I promise.”
You embraced Mor and Cassian warmly, reciprocating their hugs, though they avoided prolonged eye contact with Rhys. Azriel's shoulder clap and rare smile conveyed a similar sentiment to a hug, and Amren, nodding, raised her glass in approval, a subtle twitch of her lips indicating her satisfaction.
You skipped back to Rhysand and gave him a kiss, calming him down as he gave you an appreciative smile.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Pregnancy had made you both extra needy. Rhys got hard everytime he thought about the fact that you were actually carrying his babies, and you got turned on because he was walking sex.
He built a new nursery from scratch, adding an entire new wing to the river estate. Initially, you doubted it would be finished in nine months, but you quickly learned not to doubt him – he always kept his word. Lo and behold, a whole new section of the house emerged, ready for the babies and any future additions to your growing family in only 3 months. His dedication spoke volumes about his commitment to you and the little ones on the way.
He channeled his inner builder during this project, and it never failed to amaze you how desperate he made you feel. Walking around the house wearing nothing but a work belt, sweaty from new constructions, he was a vision of strength and capability. Often, you stood from afar, watching him skillfully build things, savoring the sight before the need to get fucked took over.
Your lips were bitten in silent admiration as he stood there in nothing but linen pants, hanging dangerously low on his hips while building the crib. He looked absolutely delicious , and the appreciation for his craftsmanship would be handsomely rewarded by you.
“Are you going to stare at me all day, beautiful? Come inside, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he stood up, sauntering toward you with a grin. His hand extended playfully, a silent invitation to join him.
Deciding to tease him back, because let's be real, you need him bad right now, you chuckle and let the playful banter unfold.
“And what if I do want you to bite? What if I ask you to get us back to our room and fuck me? Would you do it?”
You looked up at him with wide eyes, attempting to portray someone innocently asking a casual question.
“Have I ever said no to you in my life, darling?” he teased, his smile darkening, before winking and leading the way back to your room.
Rhys had vanished your clothes, leaving you bare as he worshipped you. His teasing words and soft caresses brought you closer and closer to the edge.
“You're going to be the best mother ever, such a good mommy for my babes. Nurturing and caring for them. No one is better than you, my love. No one loves as purely as you, fuck,” he whispered urgently, his neediness and desire lacing every word.
His whiny, rasping words were the finishing touch you needed before coming all over his creamy cock with a cry.
Yet again, he took care of you, cleaning you up as he always did. Your mate, ever the loving and caring male, ensuring your well-being with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his deep affection for you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The arrival of your twins turned into a joyous celebration, filling Velaris with happiness over the birth of the new princess and prince. Your friends, throughout your journey, provided unwavering support, guiding you through the hardships and challenges of being new parents.
Now, a new chapter of your life had opened, one you couldn't wait to share with your one true love, marking the beautiful beginning of your happily ever after.
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🏷️ taglist: @callmeblaire @acourtofladydeath
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mommypieck · 7 months
Text
𑄽୧ mutual masturbation with yuuji𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 13: touch me please!!!
✿ aged up!yuuji itadori x jealous!reader
✿ warnings: masturbation, fingering, jerking off
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You and Yuuji have been best friends ever since you were little. He was always the bubbly golden retriever, and you were his shy black cat. he always stood by you when you were little, and he always stands by you now.
"And then she asked for my number," he exclaims, showing his hands all around. His smile is bright, and you're happy for him. He's so delighted that a girl hit on him for the first time. But there's something inside of you, that tells you it shouldn't be that way.
"What do you think of her?" Yuuji asks, almost breaking your nose with his phone. The girl in the picture is pretty, but you feel like Yuuji could get someone even prettier. For example, you think you are way cuter than that girl.
"Do you think I could lose my virginity to her?" The questions throw you off guard. Of course, you know that Yuuji is a virgin, but you didn't think he would lose it to someone he just met.
"Maybe we can practice," you mutter shyly, you don't want him to go and fuck some other girl. He kissed you when you were little, and even though you're both adults now, you can still feel that kiss on your lips
"Like to have sex?" he asks you, his eyes wide. You snort at him, "Of course not sex, but you probably don't know where the clit is."
He almost looks offended by your statement. Of course, he knows where the clit is, he thinks to himself. Gojo told him it was another name for the pee hole.
"You can just teach me a bit," you tell him, looking at him skeptically. His face suddenly turns serious, and you can see the wheels turning in his head.
"Okay." he breathes into your ear.
"Is this okay?" he asks, his hand traveling up your skirt. He almost whines when his fingers meet the warmth of your pussy. Yuuji rubs you over your panties, he's inexperienced, but he thinks he has an idea of what he's doing. You let out a surprised moan when he finds your clit.
"Did I find it?" he shoots you a teeth-full smile. You nod, he, in fact, found it so quickly. he hooks his fingers on the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs. It's awkward with you sitting next to him, but he managed to do it.
"Oh my god." he moans, staring wide-eyed at your pussy. You want to slap him at that moment.
"What's the matter?" you ask him as you bite your lip.
"It's my first time seeing real pussy." he confesses, making you roll your eyes. You open your legs a bit more for him to get a better look, earning a whine from him.
"Do you want to touch me too?" he asks you, grabbing the tent in his pants and shoving it in your direction. You nod shyly, unable to look at him.
Your hand reaches out to cup him over his own hand, moving your hand with his own. he pulls down his pants, giving him a perfect view of the bulge in his boxers. You suppose he's big even though you have never seen a dick before.
Your hand slides into his boxers, fingers just gazing against his hard-on. You feel the veins on his dick under your fingers flexing. Your hand finds his tip, and you cringe at the slimy precum on the top.
He pulls his boxers down, finally revealing the hard-on you were playing with. You shut your lips shut, he's so pretty. He's pretty pink with his tip being a bit darker than the rest.
Your body shuffles closer to his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Your hand cups his dick again, and you wrap your fist around him. Yuuji moans, and you can't help but think about how perfectly he fits in your hand.
While you're occupied with studying his cock, his own hand finds your pussy again. He tries to look for your clit again, and after a few swipes, he finds it again.
You lay side by side, your hand on his cock while he is between your legs. Both of you don't say anything. The only sounds are heavy breathing and moans and whines.
His fingers tease your opening, collecting all your juices on his digits. You jump a little at his gesture, closing your legs around his hand.
"Come on, let me touch you inside," he whines, pulling your legs apart so he can touch you again. You shake his head, there is no way you are gonna let him finger you.
"I'm gonna give you a kiss if you let me put fingers inside." Yuuji offers you, and your ears perk up. Maybe if he kisses you, he's gonna forget all about that other girl. You think for a moment before pecking his lips in a quick kiss, catching him off guard. He smiles at you, and he plants a kiss into your hair.
He carefully pushes one of his fingers inside, making you wince in pain. even just one digit is too big for you. Your hand speeds on his cock, trying to find some distraction from his hand. You have to agree that his finger doesn't feel as bad inside of you. It's a bit strange, but the spot he massages makes you see stars.
His whole palm is pressed against your pussy, adding pressure on your clit while he discovers your insides.
You can feel his twitching in your hand, indicating he's super close. Your focus is set on his cock, you wanna see how it looks when he cums. You grip him a little tighter, jerking him faster. It takes a few tugs before he's cumming all over your hand.
His hand between your legs doesn't stop, in fact, it gets rougher, trying to bring you to your orgasm too. Your stomach feels weird, and your whole body tenses as you cum. Your body jerks on its own as you ride out your orgasm.
You don't realize you closed your eyes until you see him smiling up at you. He looks like an angel, his eyes screaming a worried look.
"Did you like it?" he asks you, making you hide your face in the crook of his neck. He can feel your hot cheeks telling him that you did.
"I am not gonna answer that girl. I liked being like this with you."
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taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbath @jaenniii
@satorustar @balenciagarette
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baeshijima · 1 year
Text
— one more time
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jing yuan has always considered himself to be a patient man, never failing to have a plan in mind and out of sight for unforeseeable circumstances. when it comes to matters involving you, however, he finds that he never has the time to think; not when he acts quicker than he can process.
CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1k wc, fluff, kissing, very much pining jing yuan
A/N : holds this man gently as i stare at him doing his idles with big wide eyes and tears rolling down my cheeks (also yes this is me using the "idk how to kiss" "then i will teach u" trope as an excuse to write a kissing jing yuan fic bc i am delusional and proud🐥)
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when jing yuan was reciting his usual pep-talk as he made his way to your decided meet-up spot (which included, but was not limited to: stay calm, cool, and composed— the triple-c, if you will — and don't make a fool of yourself, jing yuan), he figured the cosy picnic (date) arrangement would go smoothly and without a hitch. you would be there bathed in the artificial sunlight, fingers threading through blades of grass and then you would turn at the rhythm of his footsteps, that signature grin of yours on full display as he would attempt to calm his thunderous heart from spilling saccharine confessions accumulated over the last few centuries.
like always.
but very much unlike now, it seems.
in place of the predicted events he'd conjured up beforehand, the words “i don't know how to kiss” welcome him instead. (he just barely catches himself before the picnic basket in his grip goes tumbling across the grass.)
“...what?”
“right?” you huff, seated on the grass with your arms supporting your weight while bathed in the artificial sunlight of the luofu. “i've lived for this long, and yet i have never kissed anyone! wait, or maybe it's because no one wants to kiss me... am i that unkissable?”
“no!” is the immediate rebuttal which springs forth to the tip of his tongue, but he just barely catches himself. he's planned thousands, probably millions, of ways in which he could confess to you, but the timing has never been quite right. that, or the times where he was about to confess were interrupted; sometimes by some last minute calls, other times where he just misses the timing, but usually by yanqing unceremoniously barging in between you.
this time isn't any different either, because it is simply not quite right. there's something — something imperceptible yet obvious in the back of his mind, giving him the go-ahead on the perfect time to bleed nothing but the pure, unadulterated adoration you've inflicted upon him.
this time isn't any different either, but his mind goes blank, a clarity he has never felt before driving his senses.
“i'll teach you.”
it's a sudden offer, one he doesn't really know where he got the confidence to offer it from, and yet something about your stunned expression and his unusually calm heart seems... right.
“...you know how to kiss?”
“i know more than you do,” he counters. a triumphant grin tugs the corners of his lips when your mouth instantly clams shut at his words.
he waits for your response with baited breath. will you agree? will you refuse his, painfully obvious, advance? oh god what should he do if you say no? play it off as a joke? tease you for considering it? walk away in shame and cry about it—?
“alright then,” you say, and he blinks once, twice. “it's not like i have anything to lose.”
...is this a dream?
apparently not, as he now finds himself seated in front of you with the artificial sunlight doing little to help fend off the heat blooming along his skin. your eyes are closed with your body leaning towards him in baited anticipation, but his gaze hones in on the clench-unclench of your fists and your stiff posture.
unable to contain himself, he chuckles, “someone's a little tense.”
“ugh, cut me some slack! you're my first, so of course i'm nervous.”
your first. he's your first. yours. he's yours.
it's almost like a mantra the way he repeats your words (as well as varying renditions of them), one which does little to keep his waning self-restraint intact.
with a sharp inhale, he cradles your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your head slightly to align better with his. if this were him any other day, he would have merely brushed this moment off as another one of his fantasies; an untouchable perception of what he wishes could be his.
this is not any other day, however, as jing yuan is hyper-aware of your light breaths fanning against his lips, the faint brush of his nose against yours, and your familiar scent which curls into him.
you, you, you. you are all he feels, all he can think of, even more so when he finally pushes forward into your awaiting silence and slots his lips against yours. it's a perfect fit, he thinks in what little room he allows for thought when preoccupied with your overflowing warmth and the taste of you on his tongue and the sheer euphoria which bubbles up when you hold onto him in response to his hands sliding up to cup your cheeks and holding you close.
he wonders if you can feel his centuries' worth of repressed affection from this exchange — if you can feel the desperation coursing through his veins as he leans into your touch. he already knows it's impossible though, for his love runs far too deep to be conveyed in just one singular moment.
“did you get that?” there's an ache in his heart when you part for air, but it's quickly forgotten when you blindly chase after him.
“one more time,” you whisper against his lips, his heart surging up his throat at your half-dazed eyes and tightening grip on his clothes. “i think you need to show me one more time.”
his waning self-restraint snaps.
“look at me,” he whispers back, voice hoarse with pent-up desire. his hands tilt your head up, guiding your gaze to align with his once more. before you can let a word slip through it's smothered, his lips crashing onto yours in an instant as he finds himself more determined than ever to leave you breathless with his adoration and have you focus solely on him.
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if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33
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cupcakeinat0r · 2 months
Text
A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class.
pt.3
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Prof. O’Hara who now tutors you on certain weekdays. You two have grown close, not afraid to exchange little glances here and there throughout class.
And when he tutors you, he’ll sometimes migrate to the back of your seat while you practice formulas, and he’d rake his thick fingers through your scalp lovingly. You’d close your eyes, leaning into him, his belly acting as your pillow as he messaged your head and finger-brushed your hair. He’s speaking softly to you, going on and on about genetic variations and whatnot but you aren’t getting a single word, yet you hum ‘mhm’ occasionally just so that he feels like you’re listening.
Granted, if someone were to walk in and see you two like this, it would surely end in a mess, but truthfully, it was an innocent act. It was intimate, yes, but he didn’t think there was any harm in playing with your hair while he tutored. He just wanted to make sure his fav girl was relaxed while learning.
After he took you out to grab a snack when you broke down, you started bringing little treats with you to school so that you could leave them with him after a class or tutoring session.
Saying it was to ‘repay him for his generosity that day’ was only half of it, the other being that you had it so so so bad for your adorable genetics professor, and you found out that his guilty pleasure is sweet treats.
What you don’t know is that, really, it’s you. You’re his guilty pleasure. He gets so ruffled anytime you leave a little pastry wrapped in a cute bow on his desk. He’d look at the tiny gift as if it were a specimen, unable to do or say anything except clear his throat and fix his glasses as he blurts out a measly “t-thank you, hun!”
Miguel never knew what to do with himself with this new sweet gesture of yours (except maybe pump himself in his office just from the mere fact that you gave him something). It was silly, really. You had this serious grump flustered over pastries.
And you knew he’d surely lose his job if you made any monumental advances, and leaving him treats was the most innocent thing you could afford to do in public, so you settled for this. Besides, it’ll all contribute to his ass DadBod, so it’s a win win.
On the other hand, Miguel didn’t know for how long he’d be able to settle for this or how much longer he can play with your hair. It felt like as the days go by, you become prettier, smarter, lovelier, kinder, sexier…. It was all too much. He had an itch.
One day, the class had a quiz. You had finished earlier than everyone else, and began online shopping while you waited for the others to finish. Miguel was walking around the hall in case anyone needed help, and he noticed you were looking at a certain skirt and top.
He took a mental note of it.
You come into his office the next day for tutoring and find a pink gift bag on his desk adorned by more pink tissue paper.
“Just uh… a little something for all your hard work, mama.” He muttered, the most adorable, shy smile on his flushed face.
You were thrilled to find the skirt and top you were looking at just the day before. You instantly go to hug him, the second time you two would hug. Miguel feels a little more prepared for this one, and this time, even peppers the tiniest kiss on top of your head, your body engulfed in his fluffy arms and soft belly.
That was the first of many gifts to come, and you’d find a gift bag in every tutoring session you had with him from then on.
You’d walk into class wearing the things he’d buy you, inflicting the hardest boner on him when you do. He was like a sick puppy when looking at you, sporting your new necklace, for example. He would get stuck in a dream-like state imagining how it would look dangling, swinging with each pound of his slow thrusting into your tight pussy.
It would be slow. He wanted to treasure you, savor you. An angel like you deserved princess treatment, and he’d make sure that’s what you received. He’d worship you. He’d press a trail of kisses from your sternum down to your pelvic, looking up at you through his bifocals as he does, then removing them just before he makes dinner of your cunt. You’d cum multiple times before he even thinks about fucking you with his own cock, putting your pleasure before his. He wouldn’t be able to stop blabbering about how pretty you look like this, under him. How beautiful you are. How good you are for him. How much he wants, no… loves you. He’d be such a loser, but he’d be your loser. All yours.
His fantasies are shooed away, as well as his dazed smile when he sees someone approach you. A boy.
He seems to really like you. He’s a good looking boy. He was closer to your age. He was very fit. Miguel wants to be upset. He wants to be jealous, but… he technically can’t. You aren’t his. Far from it. and maybe it should stay that way. The boy would be good for you. Miguel sees you smile back at him. Sweet girl. You two would make the cute couple. You probably deserve him. Yea…
What was he thinking that he, some science professor who had let himself go, would have a chance with you, the most beautiful girl in the entire world?
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
A/n: sorry not sorry that I keep edging y’all, Mwheheheheheheh <3 Still, I hope u like it <3
Also, @little-lovelace , looking for this, luv??? <3
Next part (head canons)
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!!
Gna start taggin cuties, lmk if u wanna b tagged 4 next one <3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive
@faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi
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powerfultenderness · 10 months
Note
I am so, so thirsty for neighbor!Konig and I humbly beg you for the following request; reader has secretly been hard core cramming online German lessons, and Konig says some stuff (lewd or otherwise) that she ends up understanding. Maybe she teases him by saying something back to catch him off guard and make him flustered? Idk but I just spent an hour reading all of the series and im heart needs more to survive
I'm so happy that you're enjoying the series! I liked this idea so much! But I ended up changing it a little bit, I hope you don't mind!
Nothing really happens, but König does say something a little horny, so I guess this will be [rated Mature 18+]
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“What, are you going back to school?” 
You jolted from your studies and looked up just in time to see a friend join you at the table in the break room. You laughed as you greeted her. She was almost right, it certainly felt like you were in school again! Your lunch was pushed to the side, nibbled on, while you were hunched over a notebook and your phone. 
She leaned over the table a bit and took a glance at your notes. “Why German?” You sighed, you needed a break anyways, and started to pick at your food. “Just trying to impress the hot neighbor.” 
“Ooh, is he German? And how hot are we talking?” 
“Austrian,” you answered with another laugh. “And very.” Sort of? Well, even if you had never seen him without some sort of hood or mask on his face, he was still a fine specimen of a man. 
“Want me to help you?”
“You know German?”
“I studied German for years in school and spent some time abroad in Berlin.” 
You narrowed your eyes and hummed as you tried to translate her words. “You said: I something, German, something something, Berlin.” 
Now it was her turn to laugh. “Oh! I know just what to teach you!” 
-
Bzzt! 
You picked up your phone and rolled your eyes before sending a quick text.
König didn’t like it. All night you were half paying attention to him and half paying attention to your phone. “Who keeps texting you?” He finally slipped, unable to hold back the slightly envious (ok maybe a lot) question anymore.
“Sorry,” you winced at how rude you were being. “Just a friend from work. She started to help me with a project and thinks she’s sending helpful tips.” 
Just a friend from work! It didn’t sound like someone he had to worry about (though he wasn’t sure if you were also attracted to women, and so didn’t completely write off this friend just yet). “But her advice is not helpful?” 
You scoffed and shook your head. “Not really. She’s jumping the gun. She’s thinking way too far ahead.” 
"Hm. Well, perhaps I can help you?" Anything to get you to pay more attention to him. 
"Oh, König," you were about to tell him that it was unnecessary, after all you wanted to surprise him, but your phone buzzed again. "You know what, that would be great." You tucked your phone between the couch cushions as if that would stop your friend from texting you.
"Yea? What can I do?" 
You hummed before smiling at him, an idea coming to you. “Can you say something in German?” 
“What? How will that help?”
“Well, it wouldn’t really help so much as distract from-” your phone buzzed, a little quieter now between the couch cushions, just on time. You smiled and gestured to your phone, “from that.” 
He chuckled and nodded, “alright. But, what do you want me to say?” 
“I dunno, something…nice?” 
König glanced away from you to the television, whatever was on was long forgotten by both of you, as he thought about what to say. Something nice? He could write a whole book of nice things to say about you. In whatever language you wanted: German, English, maybe even a bit of Korean that he picked up from Horangi. But what to say? That you were one of, if not the, kindest people he’s ever met? That he noticed how you were frightened of him at your first meeting but you pushed that fear aside because of that kindness? Or that he noticed you liked puns, and would seek out the corniest puns just to hear you laugh? No. Maybe he should tell you that you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on? Yea, that was nice, right? 
“Hey,” you interrupted his thoughts in a soft voice before you settled a hand on his knee, which he hadn’t even noticed that he was bouncing his knee a mile a minute until you stopped him. “I was just being silly. If you don’t want to-” 
“What! No!” He shook his head, “it’s not that.” He paused and looked down at the hand you were still resting gently on his knee, then looked back up at you, eyes shining underneath his hood, and took a deep breath before words began to quickly tumble out of his mouth. 
“There is simply too much for me to say, I could not decide! Everything about you is perfect! Even the not perfect things! Ever since you moved here, I have not been able to stop thinking about you! You are on my mind all of the time and I don’t know what I would do without you!” “Whoa! Whoa!” You jerked back at his sudden outburst. “Slow down!” 
He shut his mouth so quickly and hard that the snap of his teeth was nearly as loud as the tv. 
It was quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring wide eyed at each other, before he started again. “I am sorry! I-” “No! No, I’m sorry. Like I said, I was just being silly and wanted to see if I could understand anything. You know, after hanging out with you so much…” 
“Oh…” 
Another beat of awkward silence.
“Did you? Understand anything?” 
You laughed a little sheepishly. “Uhm. I’m pretty sure I can guess what “perfekt” means, soo,” you looked around, trying to spot something perfect and snapped before looking back at him with a grin. No you hadn’t understood much, but you could lighten the mood with an overly ridiculous answer. “So you must have been talking about…dinner? My stroganoff is great, I mean I wouldn’t say perfect, but-” 
He started laughing, dragging you into fits of giggles too, and leaned in a little closer to you, elated that this time you did not pull back.
“So, was all of that actually nice?” You asked once your laughter faded out, though you still smiled up at him.
“Yes. I can only think of nice things to say about you.” 
Oh! Nothing could stop the goofy smile that crossed your face, not the butterflies in your stomach, or the way your heart sped up, not even the blush that heated your face. Still you decided to cover up your sudden over acting nerves with a touch of humor. You played up your reaction, one hand over your heart as the other tapped his arm playfully. “Aww, König, you’re so sweet!” 
He gently caught your hand, running his thumb softly across your knuckles. “Should I try again?” 
“Hm?” “This time I won’t speak so quickly.” 
Him holding your hand like that was not going to return your heart rate to normal! Still you smiled at him, a bit shyly, and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. “Sure.” 
“You are very beautiful.” He started, but your soft smile turned into a grin and he paused.
“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” You tried to downplay just how intimate this was starting to feel.
“Beautiful,” he corrected as he took his hand from yours and gently held your chin so that you were looking directly into his eyes. “Stunning, actually.” You were especially cute when you looked so flustered like that. He gently traced the bottom of your lip and leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to barely above a husky whisper. “And I want to see these pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” 
You squeaked out a tiny little gasp and pulled back from just enough for his hand to drop. 
König froze. “Did. Did you understand. That?” 
“No!” You quickly shook your head, eyes darting all over the place before settling back on him, though you could no longer hold eye contact. “What, uhm. What did you say?” 
Oh. You were a bad liar. Good to know. He wished he hadn’t said that. He wished he hadn’t said anything! Maybe he should have never come over in the first place! Why was it so hard to say no to you? 
“Nothing!” He abruptly stood up. “I have to go.” He rushed to the door and nearly ran out, but at least stopped himself long enough to wish you a good night before fleeing.
“Ah, König!” 
But he was already gone. For a guy that big, he was certainly fast.
“Oh, shit.” You muttered to yourself, heart still loudly pounding in your chest as you dug your phone out from the cushions.
You pulled up your texts and scrolled through the many, many, English to German (or vice versa) raunchy translations your friend had been sending you. Sure enough, between her translations and König’s words fresh in your mind…
“AHHH!!! I THINK HE JUST ASKED ME TO BLOW HIM!!!!” You sent off a text to her and finally remembered to breathe.
Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
“Lol! Are you sure? What did he say? I’m calling you.” 
It’s a whole week before you see König again. And you both awkwardly pretend like your last encounter never happened. And you both desperately wish that it hadn't ended. 
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[Neighbor König Masterlist]
Tagging: (let me know if you want to be removed or added)
@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys 
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fillinforlater · 6 months
Text
The Pull
Randoms x Ning Yizhou (NingNing) & Kang Hyewon
Length: 1165 words
Tags: gangbang, hair pulling kink, rough, a lot of positions, sex, being a willing toy for men and women
TW: gangbang, the hair pulling is kinda rough, QUICKIE
Inspiration: the two pictures below
(A/N: just a short quickie I had in mind for forever now. Sorry if it's just bullshit, but I hope y'all enjoy it lol)
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"Okay, what is this?"
Ningning is perplexed. She let her imagination run wild when Hyewon invited her over weeks ago, the premise: fun with multiple people. Now, multiple can mean a lot, like sharing a couple, something Ningning is already familiar with or maybe two guys for each of them. That's about as many as she can handle simultaneously. Come to think of it, Ningning remembers Hyewon telling her about having three guys and two girls on her at the same time, though—
"Don't tell me you expected more?" Hyewon laughs as she pushes herself through the tall and small and buff and slender frames of horny people around her towards her Chinese friend.
"Less," Ningning quietly hisses when she sees the twinkle in Hyewon's starry eyes. This woman is truly like the night sky: thrilling, even if you can't see it, drop dead gorgeous when uncovered and always happy to surprise her with a shooting star—or in this case, almost twenty willing people. 
"Oh, can my small Ning-ning-ie not handle a dozen men and half a dozen women?" Hyewon's laugh is loud and echoes amongst the crowd whose eyes are all focused on the two. Ningning can feel herself getting undressed, hell, she might as well be bare in their eyes, clothes already on the floor and Hyewon is the same. 
"You're crazy." She puts her arms on Hyewon's shoulders and looks past her. A wave of blankness washes over her head. Now she is the one undressing all those strangers before her, the men whipping out their hard cocks, small, large, thick; the girls with their hairy or shaved pussies, tiny tits or gigantic melons—she is equally scared and excited, so she needs this final push to get her into it.
"And you are crazy hot, Ning-ning-ie~ and your hair…"
Unwillingly, Ningning throws her head back in a guttural, deep moan that has the entire room in goosebumps of thrill and blind lust. Hyewon has both hands in Ningning's endlessly long hair, the blonde fittingly forming tails to tug. There are a million reasons Ningning loves Hyewon, but it's the way she pulls her hair that made her addicted to the older girl.
"Don't keep them waiting any longer, Ningningie~ they can and will pull it and fuck you good.
"Trust me."
The two women are swarmed, torn from each other's grasp and covered in hands. A palm on her back, barely worth the mention, another on her chest, too bad that there's fabric in the way, a long, manicured pointer on her thighs, Ningning holds her breath—she shrieks when someone combs her hair and tugs at whatever they can grab. The doubts and fears she had about this are all gone when more and more people try to get a stronger reaction out of her and pull at her hair.
"Those tails—fuck—were a great idea," Hyewon half moans, half laughs from the other side of the crowded room, amidst a crowd, her frame the toy of the crowd. Her dress is easily removed, unsurprisingly, she likes easy access. Ningning then sees her friend drop to her knees, mouth on a cock, fingers on other shafts and pussies, while a large, burly man roughly pulls her hair back.
"Do the same to me," Ningning begs to the first person she can see, a bald guy, twice her age easily. He nods and pushes her to the ground while the pointy, manicured nails from before are shredding themselves through her top. "My hair, oh God, fuck, yes!"
Though unable to see it—a girl has buried the Chinese woman's face in her hairy cunt—Ningning can feel strong pulling from all sides, relentless, reckless how some are rubbing their cocks on it as well. She searches for the hard clit, her tongue twirling it, like Hyewon has teached her in a private session, way before gangbangs even came into the picture. Some greasy guy forces her to stroke his tiny cock, she can feel him cumming, hear him groaning, imagine the pearly white all over her arm. Not a good spot to finish. 
"In my mouth, ahh." Ningning opens wide and the guy finishes on her lips until two other men decide to suddenly pick her up. The rest of his load lands on her tits, but Ningning has already forgotten about it, too big is the thrill of a stranger uncovering her ass and showing it off to everyone. 
"Fuck me standing," she screams in euphoria. "As long as you pull my fucking hair, I don't care!"
Today is Christmas for Ningning, because as the guy carrying her aligns his cock with her soaking pussy, another woman has her ponytail in hand and starts to play tug of war against herself. In Ningning's brain, the pleasure and pain clash shortly, but soon find a rhythm—the same rhythm in which her pussy is getting pounded. Each thrust rocks her world and now the tug can send her into bliss.
"Oh my God, I'm cumming, don't stop!"
Hyewon meanwhile gets spitroasted in a quite unusual way: two men try to get their semi-hard cocks into her mouth while a young lady shoves a large strap-on in her ass over and over again—she literally pushes it all the way in, just to pull it back out again. The sight of Hyewon's gaping asshole has a guy close. He jerks himself to completion and his spunk lands in Hyewon’s messed up and torn locks.
"I want to cum again, please!"
Ningning gets dropped, but this is nowhere near the end of her wish fulfillment. There is always someone else to fondle her assets, be it tits or ass, and of course, her golden strands. In another team effort, her ass cheeks get spread wide to reveal a twitching hole, always clean, relaxed and ready, especially after the height of an all time orgasm. A cockhead eases itself inside her. 
"Oh fuck!"
"Get her hair!" a strong willed woman shouts at two men who were somewhat awkwardly jerking themselves off at the ever switching sight. "You pull here, you pull over here, on the other side.  Fuck her hair for all I care, ruin her somehow."
The same woman is not only successful with her instructions, she also puts her foot on Ningning's cheek and has her head trapped on the floor, unable to escape the cock that is destroying her ass faster and faster. Ningning can feel her knees give up slowly, they tremble with the force of an earthquake followed by a volcanic eruption, because a final tug puts her over the edge again. This time her orgasm is messy, clear squirt lunges out of her cunt while incoherent profanities leave her mouth.
"Fucking, th-thank you, shit, oh Hyewon, ahhh, fill my dumb ass, c-c-cum in my hair, ahh!"
"You're welcome," Hyewon moans back, small body upright, a cock in her pussy, hickeys on her collarbone, a tongue in her ass, her hair pulled.
Of course it's pulled.
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Text
The sheer development of botw/totk zelink…
Zelda didn’t originally like Link. She outright avoided him at all costs and wasn’t particularly nice to him. And despite her own efforts, Link’s own determination and devotion to his role finally wore her down to the point where she realized how wrong she had judged him.
Link was a prodigy, he had the sword that would seal the darkness already (had since he was a mere preteen) and was known for besting adults in duels as a literal child. She was born with powers she couldn’t unlock despite all the effort she put in. She thought he was simply handed his fortunes in life with no consequences, while she struggled daily to uphold her father’s expectations for her and neglect her own hobbies.
But when Link steadfastly protected her in a place she had specifically gone to in order to escape him, she sees the truth behind it all. Link is determined. He never backs down from a fight. He’s also reckless and she understands this as she chastises him and worries over his well-being. He’s knowledgeable about horses and has good advice, always willing to share it when someone (aka Zelda) needs to hear it. She learns bit by bit about Link until she outright questions why he doesn’t talk much. And he genuinely hesitates but decides that he can share this with her. She’s the only one he ever has. Because she asked.
And he tells her. The sword on his back brings a great responsibility and massive burden to bare. He feels the need to be strong and to be the stoic perfect knight to take on the role everyone expects him to play.
They become much closer after this and there’s multiple times we see Link actually neglect his role as her protector in order to just be there for Zelda as her friend. Once in the spring memory where he turns after Zelda berated her inability to awaken her power and the second when they’re literally running away from murder bots and he doesn’t force her to continue when she slips but rather kneels, listens, and comforts her.
And to find out that Zelda’s love for Link is the reason she awakened her powers and that it’s canonically proven through Kass’ song? Wow. And that doesn’t even BEGIN their story and how it ends in totk.
In botw, the Japanese original logs are written by Link himself and it’s revealed that one of his motivators in saving Zelda was to see her smile once again. Just. Remember that.
Of course the game end and we do see Link and Zelda planning on traveling to investigate Vah Ruta. And we find out in ToTK that the two are inseparable, so much so that without Zelda by his side no one recognizes Link beyond the characters that genuinely know him through the story.
They’ve traveled across Hyrule and helped numerous people, no matter what it was. They live together in Hateno, where they helped to build a school and even teach the kids there. They founded expedition and research teams, reformed a guard, and even found the time to ‘vacation’ at Lurelin where they would go up to Lover’s Pond in the evening.
Zelda and Link create a home out of Hyrule. It’s no longer a desolate, sparingly populated land. It’s being reformed. It’s being cared for. It’s their home. They lost theirs 100years prior but they’ve steadily worked to make it a home once again. They were healing. Together.
So losing Zelda again, being unable to reach her, and also losing his sword. . . It’s a lot. But the thing he knows he must do— Find Princess Zelda. Despite knowing exactly where Zelda is after you finish the Tears of the Dragon Quest, Link does not complete it. Because he hasn’t found his Zelda. The one that rambles on about everything and gets excited about history and new discoveries. The one that tried to make him eat a frog (albeit she was on to something). She isn’t home.
Meanwhile Zelda. . . Zelda goes on about Link, enough for Sonia to know all about him and his tendency to worry over Zelda’s well-being. And then we have memory eight that has Zelda practically gushing about him to her pseudo-parents and promptly being teased for it. Then, as Zelda finally understands why she is in the past, she ensures Link has everything he could need in order to win. Because to her, Link and Hyrule surviving is a must. She sacrifices herself to ensure that.
And yet. . . Link is determined to bring her back. Hyrule won’t be the home they’ve worked so hard to make it so without her. He can’t quit until they find a way to revert her back. So when Rauru and Sonia channel their power through Link, it takes a moment for him to understand by when he does… WHOOH boy does the determination SHINE in his eyes.
And he gets her back. He reaches her. Protects her just as she did for him in the form of restoring the Master Sword. And she immediately rambles.
We don’t get to see Link’s reaction to any of this. But then we end with “Link, I’m home” and a SMILE. Because that’s all Link wants. For Zelda to be safe and smiling.
Ultimately, they just want to be home. And home is with the other.
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taintedcigs · 6 months
Text
thinking about mean!ex!steve who sees you at a party with someone else and teaches you a lesson in the bathroom...
warnings: minors dni 18+, p in v, mean!steve, degradation, name calling, cr*ampie, rough/hate sex!, ass slaping, kinda dub-con but not really? (reader says she can't take it but steve says she can? idk how else to label this sorry omg)
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You shouldn't be doing this.
You should be as far away from him as possible.
But your mouth was betraying you, groans escaped it louder than before, you knew you shouldn't have done this again, you knew you shouldn't have let him do this, but god, did it feel so fucking good.
To have Steve's large hands grabbing your waist in a tight hold, while your cheeks were pressed onto the cool marble countertop in Tiffany's bathroom, pounding into you with such force that it had you crying out beneath him.
"Louder, doll," he teased with a smirk, "don't think that douche can hear you, scream my name, baby," he cooed, sinking deep inside of you, brutal with his movements.
"A-asshole," you barely spat with groans slipping past your lips, and he chuckled darkly. "Such a mouthy fuckin' bitch, aren't ya?" He snarked, landing a harsh slap on your ass as you gasped.
"I think you forgot what happens to spoiled little sluts like you," he pouted mockingly, stilling his movements, his cock still warming your insides, but not enough to fill the desire bubbling up in your stomach.
"S-steve!" You whined, "what are you doing?" You cried out, attempting to turn your head, but unable to with Steve's harsh hold.
"Nuh-uh," he chuckled, "you gotta beg for it, honey."
"You're such a fucking ass-" Another harsh slap on your ass, enough to leave a mark, and Steve admired it with a smirk. "God, you look so fuckin' hot with me markin' you up, doll," he groaned, leaving harsh nibbles and kisses all over your neck.
"Maybe I should leave more, huh? Let those assholes know that you're all mine?" He grinned against your ear, you tried to shift against him, get some friction, but all it did was earn another slap, causing your insides to clench down on nothing when you whined.
"Are you gonna behave now, baby?" He pouted mockingly, causing you to nod with a huff. "Beg for me, baby. Beg for me to pound this tight cunt of yours. Tell me you're mine, my filthy little slut, who'll do any fucking thing to get fucked by me." He smirked, hands teasingly playing with your clit, pressing you further onto the countertop.
He was such a fucking asshole. Yet you were more than ready to beg for more, beg for him to make you his. Because he felt so fucking good, and he knew you well, too well to make you cum undone in minutes. Something none of your other boy toys could do.
You needed Steve, needed him to make you cum, needed to feel his cock dragging up your walls, filling you so full that your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
"P-please, Steve," you begged, unashamedly. "'m yours, promise," you said faintly. "Need you to make me yours, mmpff," you whined.
"P-please, cum inside'a me," you cooed teasingly, knowing that this would bring Steve to the edge, knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist cumming inside of you, not slipping out until he was sure you were stuffed full of him.
"F-fucking slut," he spat, withdrawing from the warmness of you before he slammed back inside with a thrust that had your core shaking. Your skirt which was flipped onto your back was shaking with every thrust.
"Such a filthy fuckin' whore," he chuckled, "so fuckin' desperate to be fucked by me." You could feel his thrusts get rougher, balls slapping against your clit so deliciously that you were crying out for more.
It was too much, his movements, the harsh slaps on your ass, his hold on your waist, the way you could physically feel him stretching your walls, the pain subsiding quickly and turning into pleasure as he groaned. And that bastard was so fucking big that it gave you the best mix of pleasure and pain you could ask for.
"T-too big," you whined, arching your back onto him because you so desperately wanted to cum. "Is it too big for you, princess?" He cooed, and you nodded. "Too fuckin' bad," he chuckled, "you shouldn't have fuckin' begged for it, whore." He spat, mocking you with a pout while his cock pounded into you, again and again. Deeper and deeper. Harder and harder, each slam of his cock inside of you sending you into pure bliss.
Your entire body was trembling, mouth crying out with every thrust, trying to adjust to that asshole's size, "You shouldn't have tried to fuck that dumb boy, so now you're going to fuckin' take it," he breathed, pounding inside of you so hard that your eyes rolled to the back of your head, lips parting open to beg for more.
"You're goin' to take all of me, whore." He groaned, driving his cock inside of your walls mercilessly, deeper and deeper. "And, I'm not goin' to stop until I make sure every single drop of me is spilled inside of your sweet fuckin' cunt," his fingers dug into your hips once he drove into you faster, your whole world spinning with it. Your cries were getting uncontrollable, and his groans were guttural, mixing together perfectly.
"All fuckin' mine," he demanded with a final thrust, enjoying the way you came around his cock, while his cock spilled inside of you. Filling you full, making you his.
Steve was going to make sure that jerk boy toy of yours would see you coming out of the bathroom with him, looking all fucked out while you clung to his shoulders, and with his cum dripping down your thighs.
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majinbangus · 28 days
Text
Soap teaches you a new skill through unconventional methods...
"Ye really can't do it?"
You glance at the man who made himself at home on your office couch. He came in earlier after training, claiming he had free time, so he decided he best spent it bothering you. You should have kicked him out as soon as he walked through the door. Somehow, the conversation he started got into the topic of rolling r's, and now he won't drop your lack of ability to do so.
"Yeah? It's not a big deal, Soap, plenty of people can't do it."
"I guess I'm just surprised. Figured it'd be something you'd be able to do."
You laugh. "Where'd you get that impression?I'm incapable of it. Trust me, I've tried. Videos don't help, and neither does someone explaining how to move my tongue help. I just can't do it."
"Maybe it's because you haven't tried the MacTavish way."
Your eyebrow twitches. He's up to something, you know it. You can feel it in your bones. Don't encourage it. Just stay quiet. It would be best it you don't as-
"What's the MacTavish way?"
You fool.
Immediately, you know you should have kept your mouth shut, but Soap's slashes into a self-satisfied, cheshire grin. Like the cat that ate the canary, he got you. Easy.
"Well, darlin." He leaves his spot from the couch and saunters over to where you sit frozen at your desk, unable to do anything the closer he gets. "I'm glad you asked."
He's right next to you in a blink, planting a heavy hand on your shoulder. He squeezes tightly, and under any other circumstance, it would have been comforting, but all it does is make you feel like prey. You gulp, and it's clear he sees because his eyes track the movement of your throat, smirk plastered on his face.
You don't dare say anything, eyes wide and head tilted back to look up at him. You've never felt particularly intimidated by Soap before, but standing before you now, in his sweaty fatigues, he somehow looks bigger than usual. It ignites something funny in your belly, something you can't really acknowledge with him looking at you like he might eat you whole. And he just might.
But the scary part? You would let him.
"You see- " the hand he has on your shoulder smoothly travels up the curve of your neck until he's firmly gripping your scruff, pulling an embarrassing sound from your throat " -the MacTavish way isn't something I show you. It's something you feel."
"Feel?" Your voice cracks and his thumb rubs soothing circles against your neck.
"Aye, feel," he confirms with a nod and bends down suddenly, face hovering just over yours, breath puffing gently onto you. You can barely hold back a flinch at the sudden movement, but the hand he has on you holds you firm. "It's an important life skill, wouldn't you agree?"
"U-um, I wouldn't say it's-" He squeezes your neck and you clear your throat, correcting yourself. "Yes, sir."
He huffs out a laugh and gentles his hold as if in praise. It oddly makes you preen. "So you'll let me teach you, won't you?"
It doesn't really sound like a question- it more borders as a command, and fuck him because he's not even your sergeant- but you can't bring yourself to say no, or anything really. All you can do is meekly jerk your head up and down, heart racing in your chest, and do your best not to whimper when he chuckles at you and says, "Good pet, just follow my lead and I'll have you rolling your r's in no time."
He doesn't give you a chance to say anything, pulling you by the scruff and leaning in to capture your lips. You instantly fail at keeping your noises in check. Pathetic little whimpers and moans get swallowed into Soap's mouth as he doesn't even attempt at easing you into the open-mouth, dirty kiss. It's sloppy and messy, but it's slow so you can follow along, even while it has you feeling like jelly.
His hand lets go of your neck, but you don't get a moment to miss it because it's quick to grip you tightly beneath the chin, fingers curling over your jaw and into your cheeks, ensuring you keep your mouth open, not that you would have closed it, despite feeling yourself drool.
You feel his tongue press incessantly against yours, playing with it, before guiding it into his mouth. He lets you feel the way he moves and positions his tongue as he begins to softly roll an r, a gentle purr-like sound producing from his throat. It's a curious thing to feel, and you're careful not to disturb him too much, but he isn't deterred. He only stops to hum in approval at your gentle exploration.
He repeats the roll a few more times before licking back into your mouth for his own exploration, moving your tongue around until it's positioned like his was. He pulls back with a filthy string of saliva breaking off and a satisfied smirk on his face. "Try rolling your r's now, darlin."
You attempt it, and while it sounds a lot better than before your lesson, you still don't quite get it.
Soap doesn't seem bothered by it, though. He just chuckles and says, "Practice makes perfect. I'll let you feel as many times as you need, darlin. Now gimme a kiss."
-
《 scene i wanted to include but couldn't:
Reader attempting to roll r's and Soap laughing at you because you 'look like a puppy trying to growl' 》
Be gentle please it's my first time writing an actual fic in a while ( ̄~ ̄;)
ugh i wanted to keep this shorter, sorry
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fatuismooches · 10 months
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Imagine Arlecchino being worried that her lover would be put off by her blackened hands, but then they just yank off any gloves Arlecchino might wear to hide them, and kisses her hands to assure her that they love them.
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It had come to your attention that Arlecchino only wore gloves in your presence.
It was an average day, and you were at the orphanage again. The kids there liked when you went over to play with them. Today, you were reading them a story, a fairy tale that ended with the two characters falling in love. Soon enough, the children were asking non-filtered questions about if your relationship with Arlecchino was similar.
"Yes yes, Arlecchino and I are in a romantic relationship," you quickly eased their concerns, a bit embarrassed to be speaking about this.
"Is that why she smiles around you? She never does that," a child tilted their head at you.
"Well, sometimes love can make you do funny things. It brings unexpectedness into your life."
"She even dresses differently around you. That is a funny thing," another kid piped up and you looked at him curiously.
"What do you mean?"
"Father always wears gloves around you!" You raised your eyebrows, still unable to see why that was strange.
"So? She always wears gloves."
"That's not true," he shook his head. "Father never wears them around us, or the other Fatui, or around anyone else. She always wears them around you though." Your brain had a hard time processing this information, but you knew it was true since a bunch of kids wouldn't lie to you about something like this.
A lot of Fatui wore gloves, it was useful for the kind of dirty work they did, so you didn't think it was strange when Arlecchino wore gloves. But now you were incredibly confused and intrigued at why she felt the need to cover up her hands. And kind of stupid that you never noticed until now.
"Well, what do her hands look like without the gloves?" you questioned.
"Her hands are-" Before the child could finish, the familiar click-clack of heels echoed throughout the room. Immediately the children straightened up and quieted down at the sight of Arlecchino, and even your heart hammered a bit from the anticipation of the kid's answer.
"Good afternoon, Lady Arlecchino," all the kids spoke at once, showing their respect, and she simply nodded her head at them. Her attention was mainly focused on you.
"I see you've been keeping them occupied, [Name]. Thank you." You smiled at your lover. Regardless of the whole glove situation, you were still happy to see her. "Would you care to join me for a walk now? I have just a bit of spare time," she held her hand out for you to take.
"Of course, Arlecchino. I'd love to," you placed your hand on her gloved one, the mere touch of it making you wonder once again what was under the fabric.
She intertwined her fingers with you. Gloved ones. And now more than ever you wanted to hold her bare hands, no gloves getting in the way of the skin-to-skin contact. You'd have to wait until the two of you were home and alone, however.
Thankfully it was one of the rare days when the two of you could have the luxury of falling asleep with each other. Even hours later, your mind raced with possibilities as to what she hid under those gloves. Scars? Burns? No matter what, you'd still love her. She was so beautiful to you regardless. But it seemed that you weren't so good at hiding your emotions on your face.
"[Name], are you alright?" you nearly jumped at Arlecchino's voice, not noticing her next to you.
"Oh! Well, I-, it's nothing really-" You glanced up at her face and you already knew that she wasn't going to buy that excuse. "Okay, fine... the truth is, I think we need to... talk." At that, the Knave was on guard, immediately needing to know what troubled her beloved.
"Tell me what plagues you, and I shall have it taken care of immediately," her eyes narrowed at you, fully intent on solving whatever issue this is, even if she had to... teach someone a lesson, right now, in the middle of the night.
You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself. "We need to talk about us."
"Us?" The Harbinger echoed. She was not expecting that. You nodded, and you reached for her two gloved hands, holding them in front of you two.
"This is..." you were unsure of how to voice your thoughts regarding the gloves. Your fingertips danced to the cloth around her own fingers, gently grasping it and-
You had barely been able to tug the long glove a little teensy down when Arlecchino swiftly grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements.
"What are you doing?" For how serious her voice sounded, you swore you could hear it waver for a split second.
"Arlecchino, I-I know you only wear gloves around me. I don't understand why... you know you do not need to hide yourself around me, right?"
Arlecchino closed her eyes, knowing that the jig was up, and appeared to think. "You may not like what you see. You may consider it... unattractive." Your heart broke a little bit.
"Oh Arlie," you sighed. "I would never think that, not ever. No matter what your hands may look like, I can assure you that I'll love them wholly, just like I do for the rest of you." She did not respond other than her thumb slowly rubbing circles on your entrapped palm.
"Please, may I see them? As your lover, the one you said has the sole privilege of seeing every part of you?" You reminded her tenderly. She opened her eyes once again, the ones everyone found terrifying but you loved.
"As you wish." She let go of the grip on your wrist and you were free to pull it off. And you did, in one fell swoop the glove fluttered to the floor. There laid Arlecchino's completely blackened hand, adorned with darker patterns and beautifully manicured nails.
Well, you certainly weren't expecting that. Arlecchino carefully gauged your expression, looking for any signs of repulse or discomfort. For once, she was worried if she had made a mistake, if you would be put off by her hands. But she didn't need to worry, as you found her hands completely alluring.
Without hesitation, you placed a kiss on the top of her hand, making Arlecchino stiffen at the sudden affection. But you did not stop there of course. You had a lot of area left to cover. Your kisses reached up past her elbow as your hand was loosely linked with hers, fingers massaging her palm. It was unexpectedly smooth.
"Your hands are so pretty. I don't see why you would ever hide them from me," you stated honestly. The other glove on her other hand received the same treatment - yanked off and discarded, and soon a victim to your ceaseless kisses, peppered up and down her arm. Arlecchino did not move or speak while you did this, her eyes remained trained on you like a hawk, taking in your every move. Taking in every motion of your lip, drinking in the passion in your eyes as you boldly looked at her as you continued your dauntless display of affection.
After your little stunt, you pulled away for a quick breather, but Arlecchino being Arlecchino, had to regain dominance of the situation again, and she briskly caught your chin with her hands, the one you daringly made your stake on. Before you could speak, she hungrily kissed you, her free hand pushing you down on the bed. She kissed you again and again, determined to make you feel the same things she just felt, her hand running up and down your arm. By the end of it, you were panting, but you felt triumphant. It was hard to change Arlecchino's mind, but you did it anyway.
"It seems like I've successfully proved that you're hands are quite lovely to me," you mentioned breathlessly.
"It seems you have," Arlecchino agreed with you, her usually blank expression had a sliver of softness, her thumb running over your lip. "Thank you." You smiled and gently grasped her wrist.
"So, no more gloves, right?" You asked teasingly. Arlecchino sighed at your tone but a small smile adorned her face as she kissed you once more.
"No more gloves, [Name]."
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roosterforme · 3 months
Text
Beer Boy and Sugar: The First Lost Year (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)
Part of the Lost Years series for Beer Boy and Sugar
Warnings: language, longing, angst (series fits chronologically between Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time)
Banner by @mak-32
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Year One
"Bradshaw."
Bradley was pulled out of his comfortable daydream when he heard Natasha Trace call his name. He looked over at the only friend he'd managed to make since he moved to Rhode Island for flight training five months ago. It turns out, nobody much wants to talk to you when you're a bit of a miserable prick. 
"Yeah?"
She nodded back toward the hangar and said, "Captain Price wants us to use the simulator."
"Right," he replied softly. Once she was gone again, he turned to look out at the rough Atlantic Ocean and shivered in the late October air. He was freezing cold. He was always fucking freezing cold here. He missed Virginia. He missed being warm in his bed in his fraternity house. He missed you.
"No," he whispered, closing his eyes and focusing on some deep breathing. "No. You can't." Every thought of you was painful, and he needed to get past this. He kept promising himself that one day, he would wake up and be on the other side of this ache, but he was such a damn liar. Deep inside, he knew better. 
How was it supposed to stop hurting when all he could think about was you, equally cold in Chicago, wrapped up in his Grateful Dead shirt and listening to their songs? It had already snowed there; he checked the weather frequently. He memorized the University of Chicago campus map and thought about where you might be, always afraid you were in a library study room. With someone else. Because the only thing worse than thinking about you cold and alone was thinking about you moving on with someone new. But you were perfect. Bradley's perfect Sugar. Of course you didn't need to be with him to be happy. 
Eventually he turned toward the hangar and walked through the frigid wind. He completed the simulation perfectly in almost no time. Trace was every bit as good as he was, and Bradley silently rejoiced whenever they were paired together. She was serious but not too serious. She was smart but never cocky about it. She didn't waste a lot of time talking if she had nothing to say. She reminded him a lot of you. 
He wasn't interested in her as anything more than the friend he desperately needed right now, but it was hard to open up to someone new when he could only think about one thing. There were a handful of really attractive women here, but Bradley found himself unable to focus on them. Besides, he finally understood that quality always beats quantity. You started teaching him that lesson as soon as he felt the urge to paint his bedroom door white. 
He avoided the tables full of students in the cafeteria, picking one off to the side instead. He figured if he gave the appearance that he didn't want anyone around, then they would leave him alone. He was only mostly successful.
"Can I join you?" 
When he looked up at Trace's dark brown eyes, he nodded and pulled his tray a little closer to him so she could sit on the other side of the table. "Yeah, sure."
She ate half of her food before she said anything. "Hey, thanks for not being creepy."
He looked at her calm face in confusion. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged and said, "Some of the other guys are a little creepy towards me, Hayes, O'Malley and Butler. They think it's funny to mess with the girls."
"Seriously?" Bradley asked, setting his fork down. "Which guys?" He wished he didn't feel the sudden urge to break something; he'd been able to manage this feeling for a long time, only letting it surface when he wanted to pound Jeff to bits for touching you. It would probably feel good right now if he let this emotion take over for a little bit.
"Don't worry about it," Trace replied easily. "It's nothing I can't handle. I just don't like eating alone if I can help it, because then they come over."
Bradley nodded, picking up his fork again. If there was anything you wouldn't like, it would be Bradley losing his place in the Navy because he couldn't manage to stay out of a fistfight. "You can eat with me whenever you want."
Her muttered, "Thanks," was so soft, he barely heard it. He wanted to tell her not to thank him, but the silence between them felt pretty nice. She took a few more bites before she asked, "So what's your deal, Bradshaw? You're awfully quiet for someone who can pass all of the exams on the first try and makes the simulators look easy."
He laughed. "I could say the same about you."
"I guess," she replied, "but I'm always the one initiating conversation with you, not the other way around. It's a girl, isn't it? You miss your girlfriend?"
She didn't ask it unkindly, but it felt like a slap to his face. He swallowed hard, once again wondering why this hurt so fucking bad after five goddamn months. But he'd never tried to actually talk about you with anyone else. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard as he thought it would. 
He cleared his throat and looked down at his tray. "There used to be a girl. I think maybe she thought she was doing me a favor when she dumped me. Or maybe she was just trying to protect herself. And I can respect that."
"Ouch," came Natasha's soft voice, and Bradley had almost forgotten he wasn't alone. "You were in love with her." 
It wasn't phrased as a question, and once again Bradley felt like she physically hit him. He had never admitted it out loud before right now. "Yeah. I was in love with her." He set his fork down one last time before he met her eyes. "I'm still in love with her."
Later that night, he cried himself to sleep, dying to hear you call him Beer Boy and push your fingers through his hair one last time. Dying to ask you why he couldn't have two dreams.
---------------------
You were twenty-two years old. You lived in one of the most exciting cities in the country. And you were single. But you never really felt like going out when the other graduate students invited you. Every time you did go, you ended up at a bar that was way too loud or a frat house that was way too uncomfortable. Nobody knew how to play beer pong correctly, and every guy was wearing a backwards cap.
It made your heart ache.
"Hey." 
You looked up from your computer to see Jared staring at you with a smile on his face and his hat spun backwards on his head. "Alex and I are going to one of the library study rooms and then out to get a beer. You coming?"
Both of those things sounded amazing, actually. But not with him or Alex. Not with anybody at this school or in this city or even in the central time zone. You shook your head. "Thanks, but not tonight. Maybe next week?"
Jared looked dejected. "Aww, come on. You're too pretty to be sitting here working alone." He probably though he was being charming, but he was nowhere close to the level of sweetness you were used to.
You sighed softly and shook your head again. "Thanks but.... maybe next week."
When he finally left, you tried to return your attention to what you had been working on. There was no shortage of classwork or research to keep you busy seven days a week here, and that was a very good thing. Because it was days like this one where you started to think about Bradley and you couldn't stop. As soon as you let the memories creep in, you were done. 
You closed your computer and sucked in a ragged breath. Through the blurry tears filling your eyes, you pulled up the bottom of your hoodie and ran your fingers along the soft, tie dyed cotton of the shirt you were wearing underneath. If you closed your eyes and thought about Virginia, you could almost believe the shirt still smelled like him. You could almost hear him sing what had become your favorite song.  
"Shit," you muttered, standing and shoving your computer into your backpack. You would finish working from your dorm room. You just needed to get out of here right now. 
The icy cold air smacked you in the face as soon as you walked outside. Apparently it started snowing in October here. It had been snowing steadily for days. You missed Virginia. You missed the stupid Beta house. You missed the way Bradley felt like your own personal furnace when he cuddled with you. Sometimes you thought you'd made the worst decision of your life.
The urge to cave and call him as soon as you got to your room and cranked up the heater was so intense. Then you remembered that you broke his heart and your own with a handful of sentences and the admission that you loved him. Well, you still loved him, but he almost certainly hated you. And that was fine. That was completely okay as long as he was focused on keeping himself safe instead of thinking about a long distance relationship. He had a dream bigger than you, and he deserved to live it out.
You curled up in a ball on your bed and listened to Easy to Love You by The Grateful Dead exactly eleven times in a row while you cried. You did the math in your head; that was just over forty minutes of crying. Last week when you broke down, it was closer to an hour. Maybe things were on the upswing now. Maybe the pain would start to fade. It had already been more than five months since you left his room while he sat on the edge of his bed, agony written on his face. 
"Why?" you asked yourself angrily, certain nobody else would ever make you feel as good as he had for the handful of months you'd spent together. He taught you a lot about yourself, and now you understood the importance of giving someone a second chance. How crucial it was to look past the surface. 
You buried your nose in the fabric of the colorful shirt, turned the song on one more time, and fell asleep with unshed tears and a tightness in your chest. When you woke up the next day, you found more snow on the ground when you put on your boots and jacket and headed outside. You remembered exactly where to go, because you'd seen it so many times before. You headed for the tattoo parlor near campus with a pocketful of cash and the hope that this would make you feel better and not worse.
Once you were lounging back with the Grateful Dead shirt pulled up, you pointed to your math tattoo. "I want it just below this one. It's a specific song lyric. And I want it in this font."
The tattoo artist looked at your skin and then the words you'd written out before checking the font you were pointing to in his binder which happened to look a bit like Bradley's tidy script. 
"The Dead," he said with a smile. "I dig it. I can do it for a hundred bucks."
You nodded and handed him the cash, and just a few minutes later, he got to work. If he thought you were crying softly because of the pain from the needle digging into your flesh over and over again, then that was fine with you.
-----------------------------
I'm fine. We are all fine. Year two is up next.
PART 2
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