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#so i absolutely had this idea at the ready lmao
rius-cave · 2 days
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Charlie, as an exercise, wanted Adam and Lucifer to talk about Eden. Soon, Adam and Lucifer are fighting about who's story is right. Adam was having enough of Lucifer saying that he was the only one terrible, so he yells:
Adam: Oh, and you're so perfect?! This entire place, Hell, sinners, death, disease, suffering, and pain was all because of you!
Lucifer: Excuse—
Adam: I'M NOT DONE YET! FOR ONCE YOU'RE GOING TO LISTEN TO ME! Who asked for free will Lucifer? Nobody did! You just went and forced your ideas onto people! You did it in Heaven and you did it in Eden. The Princess wouldn't even need to have this hotel if you had just listened! Everything that's happened, every bad thing that's happened is because you thought you knew better! All because you wanted to play God!
Both are glaring at each other, both demonic forms ready to fight each other.
Oh shit dude. I mean.... Wow.
The thing is, Adam absolutely has a point.
If we're real, every bad thing that's ever happened IS because it started with that single act of disobedience. The apple gave people a conscience, which meant knowing what was right and what was wrong and deciding to do bad things anyway. Like if you think about it, if the whole world just did what God told us to and we never questioned why, sure you could maybe say we would have no freedom or fun or whatever, but also nothing bad would ever happen. Because Lucifer did, in fact, want everyone to see things as he did, he thought he knew better, that humans should rebel against God, and that's why everything went to shit after that.
This is probably a bit heavy for a silly cartoon about horny demons lmao, but hot damn.....
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delulujuls · 3 months
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thick thighs save lives (but ruin racing suits) | ln4, op81
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hi! i got this idea from one tiktok i saw today. this one goes for my plus size girlies (including myself lmao) so please enjoy as much as papaya boys would enjoy some pair of thick thighs!
summary: lando and oscar never seen their friend with something tight on, so when it comes to try on new racing suits she have a big surprise for them
warnings: slightly disturbed perception of body image
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris
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Y/N sometimes forgot that she was a girl.
At the beginning of her career she tried to make an effort to look good, showing that a male-dominated sport wouldn't take away her feminine grace. Years ago she used to wake up early, style her hair, do makeup and spend a lot of money on fixing cosmetics but unfortunately everything was lost due to sweat, a balaclava and a tight helmet. So the girl decided that this fight made absolutely no sense - she decided to stuck only to lip balm and mascara.
Despite keeping her makeup to a minimum, even her mascara remained treacherous, smearing under her eyes after each race or training session, making her look like a panda. In terms of clothes, the girl didn't have much opportunity to show off either. Her clothes were largely either team tracksuits, a racing suit, or just a baggy orange T-shirt and jeans.
And just as Oscar and Lando looked great after the race despite sweat and messy hair, her post-race glow didn't really existed. On the contrary, she looked as if she had a hard, sleepless night.
It is known that when media days fell on the calendar, the girl tried to look her best. She had light make-up and nicely styled hair, but her body was still covered by loose layers of clothes. It would seem that apart from her physiotherapist and the team doctor, no one around her had any idea what kind of figure the girl really had.
However, everything changed when the break between seasons came. When places had numerous galas and events and you could throw away uncomfortable helmets and team clothes. However, as we know, everything comes to an end at some point and we have to return to the gray reality. This was the case, when the day came and it was time to try on new racing suits for the upcoming season.
Y/N hugged Lando and Oscar upon seeing them outside the entrance to McLaren's headquarters. The trio hadn't had the opportunity to see each other for several weeks, so there was a lot of joy. In a good mood, surrounded by conversation, they went inside and immediately went to the designated place. After a short presentation of costumes, everyone received theirs and went to change, only to come back after a while and report any reservations regarding comfort and range of movement. Y/N took her suit without thinking and went to change. She was surprised when the suit got stuck on her butt and refused to go up any higher.
"What the hell"
The girl muttered under her breath, gripping her fit tighter and jumping in it several times. When it finally slid over her ass, Y/N slipped her hands into the sleeves and zipped up the zipper, sealing the Velcro around her neck. Something was definitely wrong. The girl looked in the mirror at her reflection. The outfit was great and looked amazing, the only problem was that it was a bit tight. Which shouldn't be the case, because the outfits were based on last season's, so the dimensions shouldn't differ drastically. It was impossible to gain so much weight in three months, right?
The girl turned around, looking at the back of her body. The outfit was definitely tight. Just as it was still relatively tight on her chest, it was very tight on her thighs and butt.
Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, looking at her reflection. Have she really always had such big thighs? Did she actually gain weight during the past break?
She was brought out of her thoughts by a knock on the bathroom and the voices of Lando and Oscar outside the door.
"Are you ready?"
The girl felt her cheeks burning with shame.
"I think I have a problem"
Hearing this, the friends fell silent and looked at each other.
"Can we come in?"
Y/N agreed quietly, still staring at herself in the mirror. With each passing second, she became more and more confused about her reflection.
Oscar and Lando entered the bathroom, also wearing their suits. When they noticed their friend standing with her back to them, the first thing they noticed was her butt. Lando quickly looked up at the ceiling and Oscar walked over to the girl, trying his hardest to focus on the reflection of her face in the mirror.
"What happened?"
Y/N bit her lip in shame and silently turned towards them. Her friends involuntarily looked at her, pretending they didn't know what she meant. But as soon as they saw the material tight around her ass from the entrance to the bathroom, they knew exactly what the matter was about.
"My suit is too tight" The girl said quietly, looking at herself "It doesn't fit at all"
Lando wrapped his arms around himself and covered his mouth with his hand. He tried his hardest not to speak, because all he could think about were comments about her thighs and whether she could crush him with them. It didn't get much easier for Oscar. He put his hands on his hips and looked at his friend silently. He was afraid that he would be unable to comfort her in any way, because his mind was completely blank.
Piastri cleared his throat after a while, trying to return from the land of fantasy and behave as if the whole situation was really dramatic.
"Is it very tight?"
"Oh, just look!"
The girl spread her arms and spun around. Lando bit his lip and tilted his head back. Oscar held his breath, having no idea what to say. He was totally mesmerized by her curves.
"I- Uhm, I think it's just a mistake and they'll make you a different one without any problem."
"Different one?" Y/N asked, feeling tears in her eyes. “What if it's not a mistake and I've gained weight these past few months?”
"After all, the tests showed that everything was fine with your measurements."
Oscar said calmly.
Y/N turned to the mirror again and looked at her reflection.
"What a total shit"
"Hey, don't say that" Lando was immediately outraged "You look great"
"Great?" The girl snorted, "Come on, I look ridiculous."
"To be honest, I agree with Lando one hundred percent."
Oscar replied, looking once more at the back of the girl's body.
"My thighs are a disaster! What kind of racing driver has such big thighs?"
The girl burst out, turning again towards them.
"Max has nice thighs," Lando pointed out, thinking for a moment, "I'm sure his thighs are the national pride of the Netherlands."
Y/N wasn't in the mood to joke. Devastated, she looked down her body.
Oscar walked up to her and hugged her without saying a word.
"You look beautiful. And you have a really amazing figure"
Lando walked over to his friends and hugged them as well.
The girl felt a little better with the support of her friends. However, for a moment she forgot that men would be men and nothing would ever dissuade them from having dirty thoughts.
"I agree with Oscar, because you really look great," Lando started. Oscar looked at him, knowing full well what was coming and knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop it. "But with all the respect I have for you as a friend and as a woman in general, holy shit, I would pay extra for you to strangle me with your thighs. And man, that mad bunda, too."
Y/N didn't know what to say for a moment. She only felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Did she just receive the strangest compliment of her life?
She freed herself a little from her friends' embrace and looked at Lando's face.
"Seriously?"
He seeing that his comment was not received negatively, quickly nodded.
"You have such a body that-" "Lando meant that you shouldn't worry about what you look like because you look really great."
Oscar interjected, knowing full well that Lando's comments should be kept to himself.
The girl smiled weakly and sniffled. Her friends' words lifted her spirits a bit.
"My only concern now is how I will get this contraption off of me."
Lando and Oscar smirked, involuntarily exchanging glances.
"I think we can help you with that."
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itneverendshere · 2 months
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can't remember anything before you - rafe cameron.
request: "can you write something for rafe, where he's had a crush on topper's older sister for ages and he finally does something about it? it can be fluffy and smutty, honestly I'm just here for the plot."
pairing: rafe cameron x thornton!reader; brother's best friend! trope or best friend's sister! trope lmao; fem!reader.
word count: wrote 11 word pages i apologize;
WARNINGS: p in v; fingering; handjob; smut with feelings; smut with plot; a lot of cursing; rafe being a lover boy; mentions of slow burn like the slowest burn of his life but it pays off; mentions of voyeurism; p in v out in public??; wrote the word moan a thousand times.
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you drive him insane. 
what the hell are you doing prancing around the house in the tiniest red bikini known to mankind? 
rafe's not a creep, okay? earlier, he tried to redirect his attention, focus on anything else – the tv, the background music, even the patterns on the wallpaper – but his gaze involuntarily gravitated back to you. it's as if the universe conspires against him, pushing him to the edge of his self-control.
it's not just the stupid bikini; it's the way you carry yourself. 
it's not fair. 
it's why he secluded himself from the party an hour ago, slipping away unsuspectedly to the little private lounge you kept in your favorite area to sunbathe. he sank into a reclining chair, running his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration. 
closing his eyes for the millionth time that evening, rafe tries to summon the strength to think about you in anything except the slutty number you're wearing— and it still doesn't help. in the distance, laughter from the party echoes, a stark reminder of the festivities he chose to distance himself from. 
then, the hidden door creaks open, and without looking, he knows it's you. 
it's your spot after all. maybe this was a terrible idea.
the subtle scent of your sunscreen wafts through the air, and the sound of footsteps approaches. rafe's heart quickens, torn between the desire to get the fuck away from you and your scent that urges him to stay. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, clinging to the darkness as if it can shield him from you.
completely fucked. he's so fucked. 
you settle into a nearby chair, and the silence between you is almost comforting. almost. because that sleazy bikini of yours is still very much imprinted into his brain. rafe finally musters the courage to open his eyes, only to meet yours the second he does. 
it takes an unbelievable amount of willpower to fight the groan in his throat when he realizes your arms are crossed and doing absolutely nothing to hide your tits. the world seems to narrow down to the glistening droplets of water on your skin, the curve of your body. his gaze trails down and he almost folds on the spot.
oh, for fuck's sake.
the reclining chair suddenly feels like a throne of thorns. he should've gone home. ogling you is nothing new in his book, it's what he does best, but now that you've spent the entire summer together...having you all to himself after years of barely catching a glimpse of you during the holidays or summer breaks in the outer banks, rafe knows that it's not just a stupid crush on his best friend's older sister.
it's not just a fleeting desire, it's something that has been brewing inside him for years, and the eye of its right here. 
"you, okay?"
rafe almost jumps out of his skin, as your voice breaks the silence. he hesitates, finding it difficult to find the right words when you're looking at him with your pretty eyes. 
he clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure, "yeah, yeah. i'm...i'm good." rafe replies, his voice rougher than he intends.
your pouty lip’s part, perhaps ready to probe further, but he can't let you mess with his head.
"just needed a breather from the party, y'know?" he adds, hoping the casual tone will deflect you from analyzing him like one of your books. you're the only one who always saw through the layers he wrapped around himself. 
too fucking smart for you own good. 
you tilt your head slightly, exposing your pretty neck, "were my cocktails that bad?"
there's an underlying teasing undertone, and he can't help but let out a small, rueful chuckle, "nah, don't think they could be bad even if you tried, peach." he replies, a sheepish grin playing on his lips.
your heart races at the sight of him. he’s gorgeous. no one should be allowed to look this good, especially with a shaved head and a three-day stubble. you'd like to blame the drinks for luring your nasty thoughts out, but you know this, is entirely on you.
weird, right? 
this was rafe cameron. the little rafe cameron who grew up down the street from you, the insufferable kid your brother brought along to every single-family vacation and had the biggest crush on you when you were seventeen. the metamorphosis from the boy to the captivating man seated before you makes you head hurt.
he's a man now, the prettiest you've ever seen, and it only took him one summer to have you under his palm. 
his phone looks so small in his large hands, your gaze follows the veins lining the back of them as his fingers nimbly play with the screen.
"am i boring you?" you ask, leaning your head back into the chair, his perfume, replica jazz club you assume, wafts over you and it takes everything in you not to drop your face into his buff chest and just inhale him, "you haven't spoken a word to me all day."
there's a slight buzz from the alcohol in your veins that allows you to ask the questions you'd never ask if you were sober. 
rafe runs his hand across his jaw, analyzing you slowly. "'course i have."
you scoff, feigning nonchalance. "no, you haven't. it's like you're avoiding me."
rafe's heart skips a beat. "avoiding you? m'not avoiding you."
you raise a perfect eyebrow, challenging him, "really?"
rafe shifts uncomfortably in the chair, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the tempting curves that the tiny red bikini accentuates. 
"is it because raven is here?"
his eyes are busy tracing the lines of your features with an unwavering dedication. he's never been the best at multitasking when in your presence. he sees your lips moving but can't wrap his head around what you asked.
when he catches your eye again, there's a subtle blush gracing your cheeks, but you don't look away, "who?"
"raven. your ex? the girl you were fucking on spring break?"
rafe's eyes widen comically, surprise and discomfort settling on his face. he shifts in his chair again, as you've catch him off guard. how the fuck did he forget you knew about raven? 
"oh, uh, raven. yeah—i mean no! no, no, it's not about her. we're not a thing anymore," he stammers out, fingers scratching his stubble, "that was a spring break thing."
you sit up straighter, the tequila and curiosity-fueling your boldness, "a spring break thing, huh?"
you pray to god he can't pinpoint the jealousy coating your words. 
his jaw slightly slackens, forming an unintentional expression of awe as you move your legs, once again momentarily losing the ability to form coherent thoughts. beads of sweat form on his forehead as he struggles to maintain composure. 
the heat is not helping his situation at all. 
when the silence becomes a little too overbearing for you, you can't shake the growing unease that you might be unintentionally bothering rafe's peace. your words flowed, but you notice a subtle glaze over his blue eyes, a distant look that hints at his mind wandering elsewhere. 
is he thinking about raven?
you adjust your posture, nervously fiddling with the bracelet on your arm, a subtle sign of your growing discomfort, "do you want me to leave?"
rafe's eyes snap back to you, the fleeting moment of distraction replaced by a sudden intensity. he blinks a few times, as if trying to shake off the mental fog that had settled, "'course not," there's a hint of urgency in his voice. he doesn't want you to leave, and that realization tightens the knots in his stomach, "always want your company."
this is unbearable. you've gotten him on a tight leash, and you don't even know.
his tone makes your lips twitch, and you press them together to keep from smiling, "aww, look at you being nice to me, it's like you're sixteen all over again."
an involuntary groan escapes his throat, the sound automatically making you clench your thighs. 
"you remember that?"
"course i do, you're the only guy who's ever gifted me flowers."
that's because you've only dated douchebags, it's what he wants to tell you, but he doesn't because it's none of his business. 
"how much have you had to drink?"
you smirk, "a little. how much have you had to drink?"
he trails his eyes up you higher, gliding up your tummy, over your tits, right up to your throat, "a little."
a subtle awareness tingles at the back of your senses and that's when it hits you. 
rafe is staring at you. 
he's not shy about it; his eyes trail over you, leaving a tangible heat in their wake, practically eating you alive and you have to take another look to confirm you're not being a delusional bitch. so maybe... you did wear this bikini hoping he would finally do something, that he'd finally understand that you want him. 
you've spent the entire summer teasing him. seeing if you could get a rise, hit the right button. 
you quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips, "bikini's nice, isn't it?"
he clears his throat, a subtle rasp betraying the restraint he's trying to maintain. 
"yeah, it's...it's something," he replies, the words slightly breathless. he crosses his arms across his chest, biceps big enough to make you want to climb him like a tree. 
you lean forward propping yourself on one of your elbows, making sure he gets a fantastic view of your cleavage, "you know, rafe, you've been pretty quiet."
his lips, naturally inviting, become the focal point as he bites down on the lower one, "just...taking in the view, i guess." he mumbles, his gaze momentarily darting away before locking onto you again.
rafe feels like he's fourteen again, unable to hold a conversation with a pretty girl like you. except he's twenty-two and he should know better. you're going to give him a stroke. 
"the view, huh?” your eyes widen in mock-surprise, “and do you like what you see?" you ask.
he swallows hard. uh-oh, is he really about to do this? 
"you know i do." he admits, the admission laced with a raw honesty that takes you by surprise.
got him right where you want him.
you decide to push the boundaries a bit further, your voice dropping to a sultry tone, fingers playfully tracing the edge of the bikini strap.
"wasn't sure about the red, but it's your favorite color."
his head whips back around and he swears he hears a crack. if he wasn't fully hard before, he is now. 
you both know you meant what you said, not just a heat-of-the-moment confession. his gaze is fixed on you and his eyebrows are pushed together in a painful expression and he just keeps shaking his head.
he opens his mouth, takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body and leans forward, hands gripping the arms of the chair for dear life, "peach."
there's an underlying warning in his voice, begging you to take a step back and rethink this entire thing, but quite frankly, you're tired of thinking. as matter of fact, you're done making excuses not to fuck rafe.
he exhales a shaky breath, "you're playing with fire, y'know that?" his voice is low, it only spurs the warning and longing lingering inside you.
you're both breathless and you haven't even touched each other.
it's time you deliver the final nail to the coffin.
"you're gonna do something about it or do i have to find someone else?"
the realization eventually sinks in: you want him. you want him as desperately as he wants you. you've pushed him to the edge, and there's no turning back now.
his hands are on you before you can blink again, roaming fingers locking around your wrist to pull you towards him, knocking his phone to the ground in the process, but he doesn't care, everything's background noise when you stumble into his lap, pretty legs dangling to the sides. his hands wrap around your torso, pulling you closer, chest to chest, fingers digging into your hips like he's trying to convince himself you're not an illusion. 
the world narrows down to the heat of his touch, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your skin. you feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own anticipation.
rafe's eyes, lock onto yours, a silent agreement passing between you.
"y'sure about this?" he whispers, voice a low growl, but the vulnerability in his eyes makes you want to kiss him stupid.
his hands, which had been restless before, find a purpose as his fingertips brush the skin of your face lightly, caressing your chin between his thumb and forefinger before his eyes sweep up to meet your own.
"please." the words come out like a plea.
“please, what?" he asks, so smug you almost punch him, "gotta tell me what you want, hm?"
“kiss me.”
and then his lips are on yours. it's more than just kissing; it's a fusion of desires, an electric current that drags you under. rafe's touch is confident, yet tender, as if he is unraveling a secret, delicate treasure. your senses heighten, catching the subtle nuances of his warm breath mingling with yours.
rafe's kiss is a slow burn, a deliberate exploration that leaves trails of heat in its wake. there's an artistry to the way he traces the contours of your lips, teasing and coaxing, building a crescendo of anticipation, rendering you breathless.
the lounge chair becomes a battleground of hands and lips, a frenzied exchange of desires unleashed, an intensity that borders on desperate, as if trying to capture and savor every moment. your fingers trace along his arms, and his hands explore every inch of your body, as if mapping out the territory he's yearned for.
his lips leave a trail of fire along your jawline, down to your collarbone, and you suppress a cry, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. the summer nighttime air feels heavy, thick with the scent of sunscreen and the heady aroma of desire.
rafe breaks the kiss for a moment, his breath hot against your skin. 
you’re both panting, breathing so hard that your heaving chests touch with every breath.
"been driving me insane all summer, y'know that?" he admits, a husky edge to his voice, throat bobbing, "so fucking insane." he whispers into your neck.
he can't even think straight with your ass firmly pressed against him.
you attempt to keep an even voice, but nonchalance escapes you for the time being. "that was the plan all along."
rafe chuckles, a low, throaty sound that resonates through you, feeling the warmth of his breath against your ear, "god, gonna be the death of me."
there’s no time to reply because he leans his head and catches your lips faster this time. 
he tilts your head down, applying a little bit of pressure to your mouth. your lips part again, and so do his. he swallows your moan into his mouth, and eases his tongue into you, urgently exploring every crevice of your mouth, hand slipping from your cheek and resting at the column of your neck, fingers kneading the back of it.
you press your body further into his and you can feel every inch of him vibrating, his entire body pulsing with need. his skin feels so hot against yours, he’s unbearably hard and you’re positively dying to get your hands on every single inch of his skin.
your nails scrape against his scalp and you squeak in shock as rafe’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against you. the unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful and it’s all you want to hear for the rest of your life. you can’t stop the urge building up inside you, you’re not even certain you can stop moving your hips even if you wanted to.
his hands dig into the plush of your thighs and he restrains himself, you deserve better than to get fucked out here. he watches closely, hypnotized by the way you begin rubbing yourself onto him, the outline of his cock grazing back and forth between your covered folds.
“baby, we can—can’t, jesu—not here.”
the new pet name makes you feral for him.
you trace a finger up the column of his throat, sending a shiver down his spine, you don’t stop moving your hips, watching his eyes flutter every time you rub just the right way.
“why not?”
rafe groans, head falling back to the chair, “here?”
it’s almost funny how he’s willing to bend over every decision he’s ever made in his life, just for you. he’s letting you dry hump him right here, when your brother, his best friend and god knows who can walk in at any given moment. 
you nod pathetically, brain turned into mush, “can’t wait any longer.”
“stop saying shit like that.” he warns you through gritted teeth, “fuck.”
the needy sound that rips through your chest when his hands leave your thighs echoes in his mind.
“peach”, he begins, roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezing the flesh just below the swell of your rear, “y’have a problem with control."
both your lips are swollen pink and ridden with spit.
“like you’re any better.”
you’re such a brat. 
rafe grabs your chin and tilts your head, so you have to look into his pretty eyes, “let’s not make any noise, yeah?” his lips create a path up your throat, hands on your ass, kneading and pushing so he can grind you all over his growing bulge.
you whimper, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you just want him to touch you. his hips roll slowly, rubbing his hard-on lazily and mindlessly. he can't help but send a rough smack on your ass, smirking at your surprised yelp.
“just touch me,” you grip his shoulder harder, holding on for dear life as his hands trail back, the bits of his nails scraping along your naked thighs. 
they catch the waistband of your bikini bottoms. he traces your clit over the fabric feeling the warm, wet patch you’re leaving in them and then he teasingly slips his fingers underneath, swiping them along your slit, thumb, and index finger opening your pussy to his gaze. 
this time he swallows hard, seeing your pussy pink and glistening for him. 
“’m touching you, peach,” his touch, and scent, cloud your vision, the soft sounds of his labored breath singing in your ears as he leans down to press wet-mouthed kisses to your neck, “m touching you.”
”more,” you whine, lips barely parted, drawing out another salacious moan from him. “fuck.”
“like this?” he whispers against your lips, words hoarse and murmured, watching your eyes soften and brows twist, features becoming pliant under his enamored gaze, “you’re so fucking wet.” he tsk under his breath, shaking his head in the typical rafe cameron condescending way.
he presses a finger inside of you, slowly stretching out your tight hole. you groan, and his eyes roll back at the way your walls stretch around him. so fucking tight. you rock harder against him, fucking yourself into his finger and wrapping your arms around his neck again. you just want to feel him against you.
his half-lidded eyes look up at you as you contort on top of him, feeling overstimulated, with a single finger. 
he coos, his other hand sweeping over the back of your head sweetly, pushing back stray sweaty hairs. he nudges your nose with his, hand on the back of your neck, and tries to meet your eye. the squelch as his finger fucks into you, fast and deep, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.
“rafe—“ you hand grips his wrist as your eyes roll back when his fingers find that spot.
“t’s good?”
“so good,” you whine loudly, he’s cocky tone only adding to his allure. 
you can feel the stretch it takes just to take his finger, rutting into you, curling perfectly.  
he thinks it might be the sweetest thing he’s ever witnessed – your voice when you’re being fucked. you’re gushing around his digits, hands now clutching his shoulders. it’s like you can’t stop moving them, needing to feel every ridge of his body. 
rafe adds another finger, pressing the tips of his middle and ring finger against that soft, spongy part deep inside and grins when you cry out his name.
“fuck,” you cry out against his skin dragging your lips up his throat, over his jaw, before finding purchase at his lips in a kiss that devours all air in your lungs. your fingers curl around the band of his bathing shorts, enjoying the slight whine that slips past his lips.
“let me touch you,” you plead, words muffled by the way your tongue can’t seem to leave his skin alone, teeth grazing along where his neck and shoulder meet. you nip at the area, before daring to swipe your tongue along his neck, sucking the tender flesh with your teeth. 
holy fuck, are you marking him?
“oh god."
a third finger, your hips now rutting against him.
“hickeys, baby? that territorial, huh?” his hand slows for a moment, twisting so he can thumb at your clit before he continues, both motions in tandem. you cry out, eyes screwed close, hips shoving forward, “you look so pretty like this," rafe whispers against your skin, his full-blown pupils looking up at you through his long lashes.
“i want more”
“every little sound you make goes straight down to my cock,” he’s rubbing his cock so perfectly against your clit again, only making you whine more desperately for him. he places a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, just so he can see you blindly chase after his lips. 
and then, you feel empty. 
he lets his fingers slide all the way out and his throat tightens at the feel of you bearing down, trying to hold on to him as he withdraws completely. he ignores your protests and drags his thick fingers across your wet folds. when he feels satisfied with the coat around his fingers, he moves them toward your face, letting them trail over your lips.
“gon’ open up f’me?”
you gasp, but obey immediately, tongue darting out to lick your slick off his fingers. rafe doesn’t hold back his groan, watching your tongue swirling around his digits. he throws whatever concerns he had over your noises out the window.
he’s too lost in your body to care if someone finds you two or not. 
as a matter of fact, let them see. god knows he’s dying to show those bastards you belong to him anyway. he wants you all to himself, wants the whole world to know you’re his.
“so, so, so good,” he praises, closing the gap, lips molding right into yours again. his hands find home in your throat, adding just right the amount of pressure to make you sigh against his lips.
rafe smirks, brushing a finger along your skin, should’ve guessed his pretty peach had kink for praises. your tummy is in a knot because he’s running his hands along your body, and you just need to have him.
you clumsily slip his shorts and boxers down, just enough to touch him, and he raises his hips automatically helping you slide them down, his cock springing out of his confines to lightly hit against his abdomen.
you break the kiss, needing to look at him. 
and you’re so glad you do, because rafe has the most perfect dick you’ve ever seen. you catch yourself staring at him, devouring every part of his body with your eyes.
he feels his heartbeat faster, face flush when your eyes are back on his face as you softly wrap one of you manicured hands around him, just slightly, slow pumps. but it’s more than enough to make him drop his head back, adam’s apple bobbing, brows pitched together.
“good?” you ask him, keeping the pace so you can feel him throb in your hand.
“everything’s good when it’s you peach,” he grunts out, and the way his abs seem to recoil makes your tongue slide across your bottom lip, “fucking perfect.”
your thumb smears precum across his tip, bending forward to ghost your lips over his, “need you inside me.”
the way rafe’s jaw drops open in a silent moan when you tighten your hold around him is beautiful, searing itself in the back of your mind. 
settling on his lower lip, you draw it into your mouth, sucking softly, moving your hips even closer. he runs his hands along your sides, one stopping just below your breasts—the other one flicking your nipple with his thumb.
you keep your eyes open, needing to memorize every single moment. his breath comes down on your lips in heavy pants, fingers teasing your skin, hums of pleasure circling both of you. 
“want me inside you?” his voice sounds so husky it makes you want to cry, “want me to fil you up?”
your hand leaves his cock, pulling him to you by his shoulders, and he braces himself with one hand on your waist, another on the chair.
he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, “that bad?”
“don’t tease me,” you struggle to produce words, hands winding through his chest, “waited long enough.”
rafe holds his cock by the base, running it up and down your pussy, “not longer than i have.”
you sink down onto him, biting your lip at the slow pressure, the pleasant stretch that pulls at your middle. you can feel tears brimming your eyes from pure relief and he feels like every single fiber of his being is scorching. 
he can feel just how deep he his, his fingers clutching at the flesh of your hips like his life depends on it, “fuck. that’s it, baby.”
your hands are placed firmly on his stomach, and one of his glides up right up to your throat, pulling you down to his chest. all you can properly let out of your mouth are pleas and whimpers. the stretch is on the edge of painful, but he fits so perfectly inside of you. you huff a short breath when he’s all the way in.
“you okay?” he asks against your ear, softly biting the lobe.
your answer is a desperate roll of your hips, “perfect.”
you begin to move your hips up and down, as the stretch gives way to something delirious, and rafe takes mercy on you, beginning to thrust back up into you, his rhythm building up until your mouth falls open again into a pretty moan, until sweat shines on the high points of his perfectly sculpted face. every time your skin touches his it’s fucking scorching, and the stretch is agonizing, and the heavy air is suffocating but then he’s bottoming out and you feel your brain go fuzzy. 
you’re wrapped around him so tight it makes his moves sloppy, almost mindless but so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs.
“waited so long for you,” one hand on the curve of your hip, the other along your jaw, lips hungrily working over yours, swallowing your gentle whimpers, your soft, sweet pleas vibrating against his tongue, “have no idea what you do to me.”
his confession only makes you drag yourself harder against him, clit brushing against his pubic bone, “rafe!”
“that’s it,” he coos, tone gentle, the friction too overwhelming, “so beautiful.”
the strain in his voice makes you want to stay like this forever.
you tighten around him further, letting your nails rake down his chest. rafe grunts, thrusting harder, shifting you closer to him as humanly possible. you feel his stomach and thighs clench, and his hips sputter, “you’re so deep.”
he presses his hand against your stomach, feeling the bulge, “might fuck a baby into you,” he rasps, thumb catching against your clit, “let them know you’re mine.”
“yours,” he’s trailing kisses along your collarbone until he reaches your tits, leaving a line of soft, wet suckles behind, “only yours.” 
the way he’s stroking you unrushed is absolutely toe-curling, guiding you over his cock with very little maneuvering, gently pushing your hips down onto him.
“gonna keep you here, stuffed, for hours baby.”
you can hear it reverberating through the night air. 
the slap of skin, the grunts. the sound of the chair creaking as he fucks you into it. each delicious slip, every time you feel his veiny shaft twitching for attention against your walls. you’re so lightheaded you might pass out.
rafe feels his balls tighten. you are creaming so fast, squeezing the hell out of his cock. he’s making sure to put your pleasure before his, hitting all the right spots.
“rafe, baby—" his name being moaned out by you is urging him to bust inside you, his eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your hips tightens, “oh—im gon—fuckk.”
he only pushes you faster up and down his dick as your walls grip around him, a mix of your cream and his pre-cum coating his length. his eyes focus on your face, basking in the pretty expressions you make.
“it’s too much.” you whine, feeling your orgasm about to reach itself. rafe’s eyes glimmer at your words, tracing a thumb against your lips before sneaking a kiss onto your mouth.
“you can take it,” his muscles flex from the constant friction. you’re so full, all you can think about is rafe spilling inside of you, “c’mon.”
his cock thrusts even deeper, a sharp hiss leaving his lips at the way your pussy tightens. his calloused thumb wipes away a stray tear. he loves the sting of your nails practically sinking into his skin. he tangles his hand in your hair, forcing your neck to arch up as he leans in, biting hard enough to leave a mark.
“im—m—gonn—” you feel him right at your womb again and again, any semblance of sanity melted away the moment he set his hands on you, “holy fuck.”
“i know baby, keep your eyes on me,” you with your perfect tits bouncing with each roll and grind of your hips is enough to make a grown man cry, “eyes on me.”
you lean back, supporting yourself with your hands on his thighs, circling your hips and doing your best not to close your eyes. the burning inside you is so strong, it’s taking you everything not to close them.
his hands slide around your back when he sits up suddenly, and you gasp, “oh my god.”
the pace has both of you panting, his balls slapping your ass every single time. a shiver runs down your spine and you throw your head back and almost scream out his name. 
he chuckles breathlessly, “never getting tired of that sound.”
you can feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into him and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gives your throbbing clit. each time he hits your g-spot just right, you feel more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. 
“so fucking pretty,” he groans, punctuating each word with a deep thrust and you feel that tight coil in your belly snapping.
“fuck—rafe,” you pant heavily, breathy whines falling from your lips, legs starting to give out. “oh mhmf—don’t stop!”
your thighs are shaking and seizing as it finally its you, at full force. you squirm in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. the feeling’s so intense it’s almost painful. rafe’s arms hold you tight, keeping you grounded while you shudder in his grasp, his fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.
his piercing blue eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, “knew you could do it.”
he doesn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. 
“wonder how many of those i can get out of you.”
long night ahead of you. 
______________________________________________________________
might have some grammar mistakes, frankly im not sure at this point lmao, it's late. english's not my first language, it's my third i think. will edit later bc i spent hours writing this and my old ass needs to sleep, thank you for reading <3 by the time im posting this, over 200 of you voted they wanted smut so y'all won, tried best to deliver the goods. also rafe's not mentally unstable in this one, in case that wasn't obvious, he's just a little too in love and cute.
let me know if you enjoy it and if i should start taking requests more frequently!
ps: that picture is how i imagined rafe throughout this whole thing
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Note
First off, not to kiss ass, but I really love your writing! I follow three people, one of which is my best friend, and you’re one of them. I always come back to your account for content! Anyways, I just wanted to voice my appreciation real quick. lmao
Aside from all that yapping, if you’re alright with it, I’d love to read some Alastor x reader headcanons, specifically about Alastor’s shadows, and how they act (and if they’re a little naughty sometimes with the reader 😏💀) before Alastor and reader start dating. Maybe they try to encourage him to ask her out? Idk, I just have random ideas floating around in my head. I completely understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea or just too busy with others, but I just wanted to request since I saw your post about it!
Anyways, ily! ❤️
A/N: i appreciate you so much omg 🫶, thank you sm im so glad you like my writing it honestly means so much. I feel like Alastor’s shadows are so under appreciated but they’re also probably the biggest Alastor haters out here, like they probably piss him off a lot of the time when he isn’t doing business. As for the reader, they definitely steal Alastor’s girl 😏. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this!!
Warnings: shadow magic, AFAB reader, use of she/her pronouns, mentions of death, Alastor being Alastor, his shadows love you <3
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!
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Alastor’s shadows are almost always out to get him
Maybe it’s revenge, who knows, but Alastor hates it
When he first met you his shadows were over the moon about it
They always know what he’s feeling, even before he’s ready to admit them
So after you two first met they started to approach you more
You didn’t notice them at first, going on about your tasks in the hotel
Until you were cleaning a mirror and saw them behind you dancing
You just laughed and shooed them away lightheartedly, but it didn’t work
They tended to bounce between following Alastor and following you around
You had been taking a bath when one of them showed up, peering above the side of the tub
“Go away you, I need some sort of privacy” You said laughing, a bit of water spilling over the tub and within seconds the shadow was gone
Now we all know his shadows tell him any and everything
But they’re just as involved in the gossip as Angel
They’ll go to him and tell him things about you, who you were with, what you were doing, even down to the scent of your perfume
“Hello dear!”
“ Hello Alastor. Anything I can help with?” You asked. He grinned, his smile stretching ear to ear
“ Well I was just curious if you happen to know where the princess could be?”
He asks, his eyes flicking to the wall behind you for a minute.
The shadows dancing in with your own, making cringy gestures to Alastor, teasing him.
“ Oh actually I think she left to an interview with Vaggie earlier today. But that was the last I’d seen her.” You reply, but you don’t notice them behind you. His smile strains, pulling you close and walking down the hall.
“ Well my dear since we are under unsupervised vision why don’t we go out for lunch! My treat of course.”
He’s casual, as if he didn’t just steal you away from his shadows who still wanted to mingle in your presence more.
Whenever he talks to you they’ll just get really excited and cheer a lot behind you, pointing to you and making little kissy faces
he hates it
When you two start dating they only get worse in their antics
They constantly follow you around, acting as if they’re your shadows
Sometimes they take things from you to mess with you but it’s all in friendly spirit
You were doing your hair once and got distracted because one hand insisted on dancing with you
Alastor can never really have you to himself thanks to them, which he absolutely hates
“ Do you mind?”
He’ll ask, the static in his voice only louder as he clutches you to his side. The shadows stand and cross their arms, giving him the sass right back
“ They’re just having fun.” You say, and he lets it slide only because it doesn’t entirely bother you
Now they have joined in whenever Alastor and you try to get alone time
This is also the only time they aren’t against Alastor but more against you
If you ever thought of backing up into a wall to get away from Alastor think again because he’s right behind you sweetheart ;)
If you ever do flirt with them they’ll get really excited and run to Alastor about it, excitedly whispering what you’ve done
If you ever need Alastor and he isn’t near, you’ll usually have his shadows bring him to you
The perks of being with Alastor is he can never really run as long as his shadows are wrapped around your finger ;)
It was late and the hotel was quiet. Sitting in a warm bath Y/n ran the soap over her arms and down her torso, unwinding from the busy day. Until she saw shadowy eyes staring at her from above the rim of the bathtub.
“ Oh hello.” She said smiling, pausing in her actions. The shadow did nothing, sitting still and watching her shyly. “Do you happen to know where Alastor is?” She asked, leaning over a bit so the water flowed off her body easily, her torso now visible.
The shadows eyes went wide, nodding furiously. “Hmm, how about you,” she said, now eye level with the shadow, getting closer. “ bring him to me.”
The shadow had never disappeared quicker, and in its place was a confused Alastor, now kneeling in front of the tub, noticeably lost.
“Oh, Hello my dear! Something the matter?”
He asked, before she grinned, her hand reaching forward to pull him to her by the tie.
“ You’ll find out.”
Bonus:
“Dear they are actively trying to take you from me.” Alastor says, his smile strained and eyes twitching.
“Don’t be so mean, they just need some love too that’s all. Isn’t that right?” You coo, the shadows huddling around you more in a group hug. You giggle as some tickle your sides.
“This is criminal.”
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lightning-hawke · 3 months
Text
Swallow My Faith
Plagas Leon Kennedy x Reader
Summary: Leon comes home from Spain a little... different. Lost without you close, he does everything he can to make sure everyone knows you're his and he's yours.
Word count: 3176
Additional tags: established relationship, a little bit of body horror, smut, oral (fem receiving), penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Leon being absolutely infatuated with you, so much marking and cum everywhere (someone put this parasitic idiot in the shower ffs), cock warming, implied breeding kink, Leon's a little possessive (but still really sweet)
Author's note: Well look at that, I am capable of writing Las Plagas Leon without it ending absolutely horrible lmao I just made Sebastian suffer instead... Sorry Seb
Inspired by Rats by Motionless In White; title from lyrics in Synthetic Love by Motionless In White
read on ao3 | Promptcember masterlist
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Leon was never quite the same since Spain. The nightmares, the time trying to heal after all the horrors, that was all expected, something he was used to. A little too used to. Every mission had that cost, every mission chipped away at his soul. That was his life, he just had to put his head down and push through the storm. There wasn't much he could do about it.
Spain, however, was different than any other mission previous.
Nothing could have prepared him for being infected with Las Plagas, for being turned into a puppet for some parasitic bastard, trapped within his own body and helpless to whatever was decided for him. Nothing could ever prepare him for being controlled and helpless quite like that.
He could handle being controlled, whether it was his superiors and whatever bullshit they forced him into, or you and whatever fun idea you had for him at home. Being utterly helpless as his body threatened to rip itself to shreds to let out the parasite within at the hands of that bastard, that was something he wouldn't wish on anyone, no matter how monstrous.
Somehow, the lingering effects didn't stop after the procedure. He couldn't remember much, only the haze of the crazed cult leader's voice in his mind and Ashley's screams as he'd forced himself to get her to safety. Seeing Ashley passed out on the chair, exhausted and in overwhelming agony was the last thing he remembered before waking up in her place on that dreaded chair.
Everything past that was just the lingering effects of the infection and the traumatic mission. He was used to his body constantly being on edge, ready to flee or fight, whichever was necessary and everything else fading into an unmemorable haze. Yet the closer to home he got, the weirder the lingering effects got.
No mission had ever left him with an aching in his gut anytime he looked at you, a haze over his mind anytime he thought of you, that wasn't something he knew what to do with. Aching muscles, countless injuries, beaten and bloodied skin was normal. Not an ache in his gut, leaving him panting and desperate, the smallest, most innocent thought of you making his cock twitch.
At first, he brushed it off as just being eager to see you again after having no contact at all. He always got a little pent up and stir-crazy when spending too much time away from you.
The first night home, you and him hadn't left the bed until well into the next day, bodies sticky and aching, bed sheets ruined.
He blamed it off on finding you at home, lonely after being left alone for so long and wrapped up in his jacket. What else was he supposed to do but make you cum over and over until you cried when he found you that way? There was no way he could've kept his hands to himself after seeing you in his jacket.
Too many nights he'd dreamed of making love you in only his jacket – among other things – but it'd been even better than he could've thought. Having you crying his name, keening and all but sobbing as he kept pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you, leaving you completely boneless under him, was his favourite thing in the world.
Dark purple marks littered his and your skin, the shape of your hands against his arms as you'd clung to him, hickeys littering your neck, chest, anywhere he could reach. All marking you as his.
Leon wasn't a possessive man, never was, yet the sight of you so obviously his made something in his chest twinge, a need to make it known that you were his and his alone. Seeing you in his jacket only inflated such feelings, now more so than ever.
He'd always been one to fall asleep fairly soon after sex, needing to force himself up to clean himself up before exhaustion took him – especially after missions. That night the stickiness didn't bother him. Being coated in the sticky mix of yours and his cum didn't make his skin crawl afterwards. Any other time he would've cringed from the sticky mess – what was he even thinking marking you that way? All but painting you, completely marking you as his in his cum. Just the thought should've made him cringe – why did you let him do that? Why would he even consider doing that to you?
It was gross and it should've made him regretful. It didn't though.
In the morning when he finally woke up, body aching and left alone in the cooling sheets, his desperation should've caught up with him now that he wasn't thinking with his cock. Yet it did the very opposite. He was coated in your scent, the aroma clinging to his nose, comforting and the sticky skin feeling better than freshly washed skin. He had to force himself up despite everything in him screaming at him to stay in the ruined sheets.
Forcing himself to go to the bathroom, he finally made it into the shower and turned on the water. Scalding water ran down his skin, soaking through his hair and leaving his skin rosy. Normally, he'd stand under the water, enjoying the feeling of the heat soaking into his aching body, this time it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He couldn't bring himself to really wash himself, the overpowering scent of his normal soap and shampoo assaulting his nose, making him question how he – or you – ever could handle such a disgusting smell all day. Why would anyone willingly use these things? It was disgusting, the faint clean smell making his stomach churn.
Even the water falling over his skin didn't feel right. Why would he wash off your scent? He was yours, body and soul – if anything he should always smell like you! Just the thought of not being yours made his chest hurt, the pang making him tremble as if his heart was about to seize up.
The moment he was out of the shower again, he dried himself enough that he wouldn't slip on the floor while he rushed back to your arms.
Walking out of the bathroom, he found you in the kitchen, back to him, nothing but a loose shirt of his on and fiddling with something he can't quite remember what it's called. The scent was making it too hard to think, too hard to breathe. After a moment it hit him – coffee pot! That's what you were doing – the same thing you do every morning.
Why did he forget that?
As he tried to figure out what was going on, you noticed him standing in the doorway, seemingly lost.
"No pants today, huh?" you teased, drawing his attention back to you. Arms outstretched, welcoming him in and he quickly buried himself in your neck. It didn't matter that he was stark naked in the kitchen, curtains not drawn closed where anyone driving by could see him. All he cared for was getting that horrid scent replaced with yours.
"Don't need 'em," he mumbled against your skin. Nose squished against your neck, almost drowning in the scent of him all over you. You hadn't showered yet, leaving it for him first like always. He'd never been so grateful you hadn't rushed in there afterwards. If you also smelt of those disgusting soaps, he might've puked. Instead, you smelled perfect. Fuck, you smell so good, he thought as he nuzzled against your neck like an overgrown lap dog.
"I'm sure our neighbours would disagree," you hummed. Pulling away long enough to draw the curtains closed.
Leon followed, half a step behind, any thought of modesty the furthest thing from his mind. Why should I give a fuck what anyone but my mate thinks of me? The thought stopped him in his tracks – since when did he ever call you his mate? That was weird – weird even for him. Calling you odd nicknames, things that didn't make sense to even him, that was 'normal'. If it earned a smile, or laughter, or even amused disgust, then he couldn't care less what anyone else thought.
But his mate? That was weird.
"Fuck them," he finally replied, stepping back into your space. Even the few moments not against you was too much. The dull ache deep in his chest begun again, the thudding more intense the closer he got yet less painful. As if he was meant to be attached to you at the hip.
"Please don't," you sighed, looking up at him unimpressed. "I don't share."
Neither do I. Mine. He huffed in amusement, gently pulling your chin up to kiss you. "Don't worry sweetheart, you're the only one who gets me," he murmured before pressing his lips to yours. Hungrily pushing against you, his tongue snaking it's way between your lips, he didn't give you a chance to pull away from him.
Leaning into him, you parted your lips and eagerly let him kiss you. He was always needy, desperate for your touch after coming home – this was normal. Around you he never could control just how badly he needed you.
The more he kissed you, his hands grabbing your hips and forcing you to push against his swelling cock, the more he could smell you. He could smell the slick dripping from your cunt, the fresh slick waiting for him.
Was this normal? It was one thing, being able to smell your arousal so strongly while being buried between your thighs, almost suffocating himself in your cunt, but this was even stronger. He couldn't think with the overpowering scent.
Did it even matter if was normal when his favourite taste in the world was so damn close?
No.
Why would it matter? He certainly wasn't about to think about it when he could have his face in your cunt instead.
Pulling away, he sank to his knees in front of you, ignoring the faint sound of protest as he pulled away from your lips.
"Leon?" you questioned, watching with wide eyes. Desperate for you was one thing but this was even more forward than normal, lending to even more of a sticky mess he normally loathed outside the bedroom.
"Just hungry, sweetheart," he murmured, eyes focused on his prize. Without hesitation he shoved his face against your cunt, lips parted and running his tongue over you. Slick flooded his mouth, the taste muddled by his dried cum, though it didn't slow him down at all. Mine. My pretty girl, my mate.
Any thoughts of the rest of the day were chased away by the slick dripping onto his face, by your trembling thighs as you tried to keep yourself upright every time his nose bumped into your clit.
You whined, fingers tangling into his hair, "fuck, fuck, Leon!" With the other hand against the wall in an attempt to keep yourself upright, using it and him to prop yourself up. The added weight against him didn't slow him down, only encouraging him as each flick of his tongue drew out small gasps and whimpers.
Slick dripped down his chin as he pushed his tongue into you, desperately trying to drown out all the other scent but you. Your soft thighs bracketed his face, almost squishing him as you trembled, making him moan.
If he had to choose a way to go, being suffocated between his favourite thighs, drowning in your slick, that'd be what he'd choose without a second thought.
Nose brushing against your clit with each shift, his tongue quickly brought you through the second orgasm this morning. Or was it the third? Fifth? Even he couldn't remember anymore.
It hit you you harder than all the last. Wordlessly crying out, your knees gave out on you and he was forced to grab your hips, taking all of your weight onto him. Growling, he pushed his face against your cunt more, slick coating his tongue.
He didn't stop, too wrapped up in you all over him despite the whimpering and breathless cries of his name. The scent drove him forward, too lost within your cunt, his mind hazy and everything melting away.
His cock twitched against his stomach, precum smearing over his skin as it lay untouched and forgotten. Nothing else mattered to him, not even the growing desire to pin you down and not let you go until you always smelt of him.
Leon pushed two fingers into your cunt, curling them inwards and making more slick gush out as you came again.
Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, the countless orgasms over the past day leaving you a boneless mess over him.
Eventually the haze settled over his mind, allowing him enough presence of mind to pull away and let you breathe. His hands stayed firmly around your hips, taking all of your weight so you didn't collapse and hurt yourself.
"Are you trying to kill me?" you laughed breathlessly. Leaning back against the wall, panting and trying to recover despite the ache and exhaustion settling over you.
Did I get too carried away? he thought briefly, biting his lip in worry. "Sorry sweetheart," he murmured softly, kissing your thigh gently. Pulling away, a thin line of slick dripping off his chin connected to your thigh, breaking as he pulled back. What is wrong with me?
"I'm okay," you said quickly in reassurance. "Just give me a warning, 'kay? Or better yet, just bring me back to bed. My knees aren't good enough for this," you added with a breathless laugh.
The words meant more than you realize, helping to settle the anxiety over his mind. The last thing he ever wanted was to hurt you.
"The bed it is," he replied, lips quirking upward in a smile. Standing up, he grabbed you and carried you back to the bed, everything else forgotten. Nothing would keep him away from you. Just being apart while he showered make it hard to breathe, he needed you more than anything in the world.
You were so hazy and drunk off of his tongue you didn't even notice the black lines snaking across his skin, the blackness settling into his veins the closer he got to you.
He didn't notice nor did he care, even if he could focus on anything other than you in his arms. Everything was hazy, your scent overwhelming and leaving everything a blurry mess as if he was about to faint.
Stumbling into the bedroom, his shoulder slamming into the door, he rushed to the bed, gently placing you down and climbing on top of you. Everything grew more overwhelming, his muscles trembling and the thudding in his chest beginning to ache, the pain slowly edging towards something he couldn't ignore.
Fuck, what's happening to me?
It wasn't a panic attack, that he knew– though it was close to causing one. The only thing close was those few minutes as he'd coughed up blood, moments away from collapsing.
His thoughts are broken, all hint of panic chased away as you pulled him down, lips against his. Hungrily kissing you back, he reaches down to grab your thighs. Pulling you up to meet him, he pushed his cock into you slowly, whimpering at the feeling.
The painful thunder in his chest settled as your wet cunt wrapped around him, everything relaxing and leaving his mind clear – as clear as it could be while he was in you.
"Are you okay?" you murmured, breaking the trance over him.
"Never been better, sweetheart."
Somehow, the words didn't feel like the bitter lie he'd expected them to be. Moments ago, certain he was about to collapse and nearly crush you under him and now, almost completely himself once more.
He thrust into you, slowly as the fog settled, leaving everything focused and clear, almost too clear.
Mine. All mine.
With your cunt wrapped around him, sucking him in further he sighed contently, eyes fluttering closed. Everything in his mind settled, the painful twinge in his chest no more. Fully sheathed in you, he leaned down and captured your lips again, forcing his tongue past your lips once more.
All of it feels wrong, a small part of him too caught up in the worry over the thunder in his chest. Though, the thoughts are snuffed out quickly, all of it turned on it's head as he sought to claim you further.
His hips pushed against you, taking his time as he thrust into you, each time jolting your body. A primal need to lay claim over you, to give all of himself to you. Each time he pushed into you, hands grabbing at your hips to keep you close as if he'd fade into nothing if you weren't touching him. It's overwhelming, leaving him panting and whining against your lips.
"My pretty girl," he cooed, his voice sounding foreign to him. Kissing down your neck, he begun to add to the purple marks littering your skin as a hand snaked downwards, between your bodies to delicately stroke your clit.
Overstimulated and already exhausted, he quickly drew out another orgasm, your body shaking under him and hands clawing at his body. Blood wells up under your nails, small drops trickling down his bicep. Keening and clawing at him, your cunt fluttered around his cock, quickly pulling him over the edge with you.
Grunting he thrust into you again, as if he was trying to lose himself within you. He bit down as he thrust into you a final time, cum spilling into you once again. Cum drips out around his cock, leaking onto the ruined sheets below you.
What a waste.
Carefully he laid down on top of you, trying to keep most of his weight on his limbs. He couldn't bring himself to pull out, desperate to feel himself buried within you. The disgusting soap smell had completely disappeared, smothered under the scent of your cum all over him. Slick all over him, leaving the thunder pounding in his chest finally sated.
"You gonna get off?" you questioned. Poking at his ribs with one hand, the other gently wiping away the smudge of blood across his bicep.
Seeing the blood instilled a sense of pride, seeing how he'd fucked you so senseless you'd completely lost yourself in him, unable to hold back at all. Lips quirking upwards, he pulled you closer and rolled over so you lay over him instead. "Nope. Staying right here, sweetheart."
You were so tired, exhausted beyond measure as you settled back down onto him, nearly passing out already. "You're exhausting," you grumbled.
"You love it though."
"Guess I do," you hummed tiredly. "Love you."
"I love you too."
All thoughts of anything not including you melted away, fading into the background haze. Completely enraptured with you, he watched as you began to fall asleep on him, his hand rubbing your back soothingly.
My pretty girl, my mate. I love you so much.
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
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THE DROP OFF | e. jaeger
after a date gone wrong, your favorite doordasher is happy to give you a special delivery, on the house!
content + themes: slight angst, reader cries a bit, mentions of loneliness, social anxiety + depression, alcohol use, fluffiness, finger fucking, heavy kissing, kitchen sex, nipple play, unprotected sex, squirting, eren being a service dom (and a dumbass! 😭), lots of praise, calls reader mama, baby, etc.
📝: so much like elections everywhere, the polls were a lil rigged imo LMAO! 😭 plug!eren won the overall but it looks like doordasher won the popular vote. So because I couldn’t decide, I’ll be giving y’all both. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“Eren, please. Just give me my food and let me go.”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong. I got time.”
if he had picked a more inconvenient time for his nonsense, then it was now. Late night, endless hours of dreadful studying and the exhaustion of the week had taken its toll on you. The last thing you wanted was to be bothered with him and usual, childish shenanigans. Yet, here he was..standing in the threshold of your apartment doorway, dangling your order above your head; still hot for the time being and potent with the aromas of grilled chicken and rice. The only thing you wanted was to eat, shower and wash away the remnants of what you had just experienced. Something you weren’t quite ready to divulge to him or anyone else. Alas, it seemed that you wouldn’t get it until you came clean. Releasing a heavy sigh, you’d finally cave and decide to tell him. But first..
“Fine! But close the door behind you, you’re gonna get a cold standing in the rain, dummy.”
once you two were in the confines of your apartment, he’d take a seat and make himself comfortable without so much as a word. “Damn…your spot’s nice, (y/n). How come you never invite me in here?” “Because I don’t want you in my house, that’s why. Now take your big ass feet off my coffee table if you like walking.” That’s where the secrets would begin to spill. You’d reveal that earlier in the week, you had been invited on a date and although you were a bit reluctant, you accepted. Much like the majority of your generation, you had been partaking in dating apps and online spaces to acquire companionship. And you thought that after months of swiping left, you’d find your ideal date. A guy who shared the same interests as you..very attractive, really sweet and he communicated promptly. Once the two of you connected, he’d text and ask if you’d like to meet up. He suggested a restaurant that you’d previously mentioned, a nice outing for sure. That was until the night arrived. You’d gotten all dressed up; to the nines in a form fitting body con dress, done your hair, nails and makeup to perfection and ensured you looked stunning. Too bad, it was all in vain because after an hour of waiting for him to arrive and a series of texts left on delivered, you began to worry that something had happened. Although that too was quite futile because a quick scroll through social media would turn your anxious thoughts to pure anger! He was at the club, tossing back shots while you were at home, looking absolutely dumbfounded…you were so embarrassed and hurt! Even the constant glasses of wine that had been downed whilst awaiting your food couldn’t absolve you of your anger right now.
“So yeah…that’s what happened. Happy now?”
truth be told, and quiet as it was kept..he was. He was thrilled you were still a single woman. The thought of someone else being in your life would crush him because underneath his silly facades and constant jokes, he truly did have a thing for you. However, the thought of someone making you feel less than your worth had him ready to go find dude and bash his shit in! “Of course not, (y/n). That’s fucking terrible and I’m sorry that dumbass played with you like that..I had no idea. I can go beat his ass if it’ll make you feel better. I know that club..” “No need. I was stupid to think I’d actually have a good night.” Normally, he wore that comical demeanor like a sleeve but you could tell there was a shift in Eren. One that indicated he wasn’t a fan of what he’d heard..having paced the tile floors of your kitchen whilst telling your story, (y/n) finally came to a halt and began to laugh. But upon second glance, he’d see the tears streaming down your face.
“Y’know. I spend all day inside of this apartment..I work, have meetings, do my classes, watch TV and do it all over again. I even stopped going to the gym downstairs because I’d never find the time or energy once I was done. And for a while, I was fine with it. Working in crowded places and sitting a giant classroom made me anxious..honestly, I thought I hated being around people but truth is, we all need somebody. We can’t live in this world alone. My roommate, she’s been back in Cali for months helping her family so I don’t even have her. I figured tonight that I could give it another chance. Maybe even have a good time but I was wrong. I’ve always been a loner but I feel like lately, I’m so invisible, no one would even notice if I were to just disappear. These dudes, they just constantly make me feel worse than I already do. Y’know, sometimes..even if I say the exact opposite, I always get happy when I see your name because I know at least I’ll have somebody to talk to. Even if I am constantly picking fights. Maybe I’m the problem..who fucking knows.”
by this point, he had heard more than enough. He couldn’t stand to listen at another second of it..the fact that you’d felt this way shattered his heart into a million pieces because there was no way in hell, a wonderful girl like you should’ve ever been questioning your self worth. Amid your speech and tearful testimony, he’d get up from his seat, and without so much as a second thought, cradled you in his arms. Giving you by the far the most comforting and loving hug you’d felt in a long time. His larger frame wrapped around yours and enveloped you like a blanket. This time, you couldn’t even be vexed to fight it. You’d collapse into his arms and allow him to hold you. Allowing you to sob for as long he’d didn’t care. Hell, he even stopped accepting deliveries for the rest of the night because right now, he was exactly where he needed to be.
“Why didn’t you say sum’? (Y/N), you know you could talk to me.”
but you were abashed, truly. Why would dump all of your problems on a guy who was only here to drop off your food?! That wasn’t fair. So it was easier to just bottle it all up and keep it pushing. But not with him around..you didn’t have to hold back anything. “Because Eren, that’s not your job. And you piss me off sometimes. You would’ve just made fun of me.” chuckling as you wiped your tears and tried to feign off any more. You hated getting emotional in front of other people, it was your greatest pet peeve. But Eren could have cared less. Granted, he had his own ways of comforting people! “I mean, yeah..cause picking on you is the highlight of my day. Have you seen them damn orders? I know your toilet be screaming for its life.” Immediately smacking his chest and laughing. “I hate you so much.” Even if it was not always the most appropriate..making people laugh was how he coped! Finally, you’d feel his index finger glide underneath your chin and pull your head up. “But I only do it because I love seeing that smile..” you tried not to falter and let his advances wear you down but here was this goofball who constantly tormented you, cheering you up in the same turn. And you couldn’t lie, it felt good. Felt good to be held, touched and complimented like this. If it wasn’t already obvious, from the months of relentless flirtation, he had strong feelings for you that had only grown deeper the more he came around. Your cheeks would fluster and you’d beam uncontrollably.
“There it is..your pretty ass. Don’t you ever let one of these bums play you like you not fine as hell…”
by that time, his voice had dropped to a much lower vibrato..one that caused a quiver in your legs. You’d never seen him in such a light and you meant every word of being agitated by him but to deny that he was one of, if not the most attractive man you’d laid eyes on would be a complete and utter lie. He had this charm about him; one that even when he was being playful exuded sensuality. He knew how to draw you in without you even noticing. Not to mention, those handsome looks. Those deep, green eyes..long hair, tattoos going down his arms and you never caught him looking subpar. Dressed nice and smelling even better…you hated to admit it…
“You mean that, Eren? You think that about me?”
“I mean…I could just show you how I feel..”
but you had fallen for him! This man that you cussed out on a weekly basis, the one you swore to the man above that you could not tolerate another second of had you melting in his palms like warm ice cream. It was unbelievable but right now, you were feeling extremely vulnerable. Just wanting someone to tell you it would all be okay..a role he was more than willing to fill. He didn’t want to take advantage of you or do anything you may regret but above all else, he wanted to make you feel better. Ease that stress and make you forget all about old dude. “Might be a lil’ selfish of me to ask but..you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you, right?” By now, your faces were only within a hair’s breadth of the other. Your heads tilted to the side as his larger frame towered over you. It was a bit inappropriate but from the second you opened the door in that sexy outfit, all he could imagine was peeling you up out of it! He couldn’t help it when you looked so damn good..
“I’d be mad if you didn’t..”
so without haste, you’d feel those large yet gentle hands cradle around the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him slowly..bridging the gap of space between you two and bringing you in for a kiss. The sensation of his lips was nothing like anything you’d felt before. So warm and soft..careful not to overtake your own but lapping them up with tender pecks. Just then, he’d remove any space between your frames as well. The awkward tension had all but resolved and you were his for the taking! Slowly but surely, you’d feel those soft palms of his glide down from your neck to the upper half of your torso. Meanwhile, that kiss was only growing deeper and both of your eyes had fallen shut. Faint smacking noises sounded throughout the kitchen along with soft moans to the mix. Part of you was hesitant because you knew that he probably told several girls the exact same thing. He probably slept with half the girls in this city; no way a man so attractive wasn’t constantly getting play and who knew, he may have only been so persistent as a means to add you to that collection but right now, you needed him. You needed to feel something…the touch of another person, physical contact as to not be reminded of how alone you were! And you trusted no one more to do that than Eren. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this..” his words and voice cracked amid the barrage of kisses, becoming drawn deeper into you with no plans to withdraw anytime soon. He’d go as far as you’d allow him. It was then that your own hands made place to the back of his neck, drudging through the back of those long locks. Which sent tingling sensations throughout his skin. It was by far the most peaceful you two had been with each other. And ironically enough, he was the most attentive and compassionate sexual partner you’d ever had. You tended to stray away from hookups because you knew nothing good would come about but with him? You felt an unrelenting sense of security. You wanted him to keep touching you..feeling you up and shoving his tongue down your throat. You’d make an attempt of your own to return the favor by running your hands along his chest, however, he’d stop you just as quickly! “Nah..lemme take care of you, baby. I got this. You trust me, right?” Nodding in response, you’d stare with those sweet eyes, which caused his heart to flutter. Along with other organs…with the declaration, he’d proceed. Taking his thumbs into the sides of your dress, he’d slip each side down along with the strapless bandeau bra underneath. Slowly revealing those supple breasts to the crisp air in your apartment. Those nipples stiffened by his efforts along with the cool elements. “Fuck..” muttering underneath his breath, reveling at your beautiful body. “You like something you see?” Drumming up laughter from him. “Hell yeah…I knew they were pretty but damn..” The entire time, he didn’t stop kissing you once. Afraid that if he let go for just a moment, reality would shine through and you’d decide that you wouldn’t want him here anymore. Because this all felt like a dream..no way he was getting the chance to be with a gorgeous woman like you. But this was reality and he was going to savor every moment.
“Here…lemme—“ with a single arm coiling your back, Eren picked you up in one fell swoop and set you atop the kitchen counter. It was then that he’d part your slightly ajar legs and resume twirling your tongues around. By now, he had become fixated on your tits; brushing the pads of his thumb across your nipples before leaning down and circulating them with his mouth. It was the only time he showed less restraint as he sucked them both; lobbing each with a generous amount of saliva. “Erennnn…mmph, that feels so good.” Even down to your whimpers, he was overcome with arousal..just turned on by your every move. Perhaps it was the wine but you felt far more sensitive than usual. Just immersed in those insatiable urges. So much so, you weren’t responsible for what came from your mouth…
“Yeah? How much? Lemme see..” prompting you to spread those legs further, which you did so in a heartbeat. It didn’t take long for him to discover that you were a dripping puddle. As well as completely nude on your bottom half! “Oh shit, (y/n)….lil’ freaky ass. Ain’t even wearing panties..” teasing you as he traced a finger down your stomach. Honestly, he wasn’t mad about it one bit! And he certainly wasn’t mad about your response afterwards.. “you think I was dressed like this to get a handshake? I need some dick..” causing his eyes to lighten with sheer excitement. “..shit..I ain’t mad. Love me a girl who tells me what she wants..” He couldn’t help but to laugh because you had to have been feeling quite intoxicated to admit something of that caliber. “Well you know I aim to please, baby..I never turn down a request..”that same finger that had been toiling with the polyester material of your dress, slowly moved down between your thighs; resting idly on that mound. He could feel that pre-stirred slick damped his fingertips and he just knew he was in for a treat tonight. “…so what’s one more?” With that, and smiles curled around each of your brims, he’d continue filling your mouth with deep, passionate pecks. Drowning in your flavor and becoming drunk on you as the minutes passed. Meanwhile, those digits were starting to invade that entrance. He’d brush past your clit, invoking a shudder. That first and index finger glided in with ease and nearly made you shoot from that marble tile. “Oh fuck..”
but alas, the tender moments wouldn’t last because the second he began working those fingers around, Eren would pick back up with his teasing. “Always talking shit..hell, you prolly wouldn’t be so mean if you was getting fucked on..if you wanted me, mama. All you had to do was say so. You ain’t need to order half the damn menu at Popeyes for me to come see you..” to which you’d merely toss your head back and suck your teeth. Because for that comment, you should’ve kicked him out but he was making you feel so goddamn good! “Eren..you lucky I’m too horny right now. Otherwise, I’d pop in your shit.” But he knew he had you exactly where he wanted. In the position for him to gloat dutifully. “Nah nah..tell the truth. You got a lil’ crush on me, don’t you? I know I’m finer than a bitch and all but you must really fuck with me.” Every fiber of your being that was enjoying the moment was starting to regret ever letting his ass in! He just refused to be serious for once, even in a moment like this. But he wasn’t done quite yet, he knew exactly how to reel you back in. Pumping that first finger in and out, sloshing it around in your mixture, he’d lean forward and begin nibbling at your neck and ear; honing in to whisper something:
“I mean, just look at how wet this lil’ pussy got for me..that quick.”
which in turn, caused you to gasp when he shoved in an additional digit. It was so warm and sticky but barely giving way. Something told him you hadn’t felt the touch of another person in a long time. Especially with the way you were squirming and whimpering when he went a pace bit faster. Although he was a complete and total jackass, he knew exactly what you needed! “Shh..I know, I know..you just ain’t had nobody take care of you, that’s all…nobody telling you beautiful you are. That they’re proud of you and shit..” as his words doted on, seeping further into your brain, you’d melt even more. Becoming fully relaxed; that squeezing sensation gripped his knuckles and became even tighter. It was blatantly obvious that you had a bit of a thing for being praised. So he’d proceed to fill your head with sweet nothings and affirmations. “I know it gets hard, baby..you’re always trying your best and it feels like nobody notices. I get it. Your job not treating you right, these dudes trying to play games..but you deserve the world, baby. Deserve to be happy..” all the while, his words were more than just meaningless chatter he was spouting off. He was trying to uplift you beyond the physical aspect. He wanted you to feel invincible when he was done. At the moment, he was working you over, getting you all loosened and prepped for the main course. Alternating between your lips, neck and nipples in rotation to keep you stimulated. It would all prove to be so over whelming that tears would start welling in your eyes from all the pleasure. “Oh, Eren…” Trickling when he’d increase his speed once more and start finger fucking that tight cunt. The grip was so insane, he feared he wouldn’t last one round in it. Moreso, he didn’t have any protection. He didn’t even think about it..hell, it wasn’t as if he were randomly hooking up with all of his DoorDash clients, despite popular belief. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t had his fair share of the ladies but they were all planned encounters. Meaning he had time to come prepared. Now, it was too late to turn back. But he could rest assured that you were fine with it.
“So lemme have you..right here. I’ll make all that stress go away. That’s what you want, right? Forget about him and all them others?” “Y-yeah! Oh please..”
practically begging with your eyes filled to the brim with tears and your face buried into the crook of his neck as you thrashed around on his fingers. They’d move concurrently; in unison to bring you to your climatic high. Licking his lips and panting, he’d gently push your shoulder blade so that you could watch the magic for yourself. On his signal, he wanted you to let it all out. Stress, anger, tension, doubt..all coiled into this orgasm. And when his digits came to a halt after rapidly moving, he’d pull them out and you would not disappoint!
“So let it out then…give me that shit.”
and it was at that moment, your view turned from his handsome face to complete blackness, feeling as if you were going to faint on impact. Imaginary stars fluttered in your view and your breath would catch in your throat before you’d release an earth shattering scream. “OH FUCK! FUCK ME..” but that wasn’t all that came with your climatic high…once you resumed consciousness, quivering and trembling, you’d feel a very warm sensation underneath you and that’s when you realized what had occurred. “Shit! I’m so sorry…” Not only had you come your brains out but you had squirted everywhere, including all over him. That was most certainly a first! For the both of you in fact…examining his white t-shirt, Eren would begin to laugh, completely amazed at how hard you had come for him. And you were in awe of how he was able to so delicately work his fingers inside of you and produce such a result. Perhaps, he was what you needed all along.
“Don’t be sorry, baby…that shit was so sexy.” Still in shock himself, he’d grasp the back of your neck and pull you towards him for yet another sloppy kiss. “C’mere…” the two of you would haphazardly smooch and peck all over one another, moaning and whimpering each other’s names. It couldn’t be helped. But that wasn’t all that was in store for you tonight. When he had a job, he always delivered and not just in the literal sense..what would this be if he didn’t give you the entire thing. “You said you need some dick, didn’t you?..” asking the rhetorical question as he tugged gown his dark grey joggers; along with the Polo waist and underneath. Once he did, he’d reveal a very erect cock; standing firmly at attention and seeping precum from the tip’s slit. He couldn’t take another second of this foreplay himself and he was all but certain you were growing anxious. So with a firm grip on your leg, he’d hoist it to his shoulder and spread your thighs to their max. It was then that you’d feel that tip prodding your stimulated folds and clit. “So show me you can take it then..” You would’ve went flying if he hadn’t been holding you in place. With determination and pure lust filling him, Eren didn’t waste another second before stuffing you full..(y/n) would all but scratch at his forearm for comfort. You’d both release heavy sighs simultaneously because each sensation garnered the reaction. His big, girthy length swollen inside of you and that tight, juicy cunt clamping down on him nearly made him collapse to his knees. But alas, he’d pull it together and maintain that dominant bravado. Forcing your head straight and your gaze directly on his own, Eren thrashed that dick into the depth of your center..leading with precise yet deep strokes. He had to go slow if he didn’t want to bust in less than a minute. It was something about you that had him ready to risk it all..the way you squeezed him, the way that body was so responsive and the way it was already creaming on his shaft..it was some pressure. None like he’d ever encountered.
however, he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects. You were becoming unraveled by the second! Tears running all down your cheeks, your legs shaking uncontrollably and your words even becoming jumbled. “I-fuck..Eren..baby, can’t—“ those rhythmic thrusts only making you feel that much more euphoric. He’d put it in so fast, it hadn’t even dawned on you just how fucking big he was! You’d glance down momentarily to see him going in and out.. “I know, I know..you just needed somebody to come stretch this pussy out, didn’t you? She’s so fucking tight, baby..I’m barely even in and look at the mess..shit..”
he was unable to feign off his own urges and pathetic whimpers at this point. He was equally as sensitive and didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last. So rather than releasing like this; buried and nestled in that warm womb, he’d speed up and stroke your bud in the process. Keeping direct eye contact…the entire time, he’d talk you through your second orgasm. Giving you encouragement and telling how pretty you looked when you came for him not too long ago. He’d spoil you with adoration and more gentle pecks. Something you couldn’t get enough of. He’d caress your sides and squeeze the parts that he’d heard you complaining about before. Telling you how sexy it looked..it certainly didn’t help to quell your rapid quick orgasms and extra sensitivity. You couldn’t hold back even if you tried. And he couldn’t lie, he’d was getting close. So he’d offer a solution..
“Together, with me..hold my hands, mama..just like that.” With your beautiful gaze shining up at him, he’d intertwine both of your hands and begin pounding your core. In and out with rapid strokes, even as you cried out his name and sobbed from the overstimulating feeling. You’d beg and ask if it were okay.. “can I come? Please!..let me come.”. And there wasn’t a chance in hell, he could say no..because he’d following in your footsteps soon enough. “Yes, baby. Of course..let it out. Come all over that dick, baby. Yeeeess. Good girl..” Cooing to you in a gentle tone as that powerful orgasm came barreling out. Giving one final squeeze, the force of your juices pushed him out along the way. Those high pitched wails of his quickly turned to loud, deep grunts as he finally reached his own peak. “Oh fuck, fuck!—coming!—“Plastering your unsheathed tummy with a huge load of silky cream. The warm nut smeared over your beautiful skin. He couldn’t ask for a better sight. Luckily, he pulled out just in time! You’d both take a minute to examine the aftermath, amazed that what had began as an emotional pity fest turned into insane fucking like this. And he was the one responsible. Of course, he couldn’t get away without stealing one more kiss..this time, he’d didn’t let up for a full minute..but once he did, you’d both find yourself giggling in the woes of afterglow.
“How was that? You feel better?…glad you didn’t go out with (date’s name)?”
“Who was that again?”
obviously not thinking of him or anyone else after that intense session. You honestly didn’t want him to leave but you had to let him know that you appreciated him. Not just for tonight but for all the times that he’d made an attempt to cheer you up and used his humor to try and help you. It wasn’t in vain. “..thank you, Eren. So much. You have no idea how much I needed this. You’re amazing.” Which immediately made the brunette blush in embarrassment. “Aw, well the pleasure is all mine, baby. We’ll consider that my tip..and then sum’.” grasping your fingers into a light clutch, he’d place a kiss atop your knuckles. “I just hope you know I meant every word of what I said..and anytime you need to be reminded..I got you.”
it was truly comforting to know that he felt that way and now, you had begun to see him in a much better light. Suddenly, your little love fest was interrupted by the loud eruption of thunder! It seemed that the storm outside was raging on with no chance of letting up in the foreseeable future. But he wasn’t mad about it…and neither were you because you’d propose a question he’d often dreamed about. “Well, since you’re here. No need to go out in the rain tonight, is it?…unless there’s somewhere else you have to be..wanna stay here?” And of course, with bells on…he’d accept..
“I thought you’d never ask. I’d be glad to..thank you.”
pecking your forehead as he scooped you from the counter. You were certain you could rummage through your things and find some clothing for him, seeing as how you lounged in men’s sweats and pullovers all the time. You were certain he’d need it after being soaked in the rain and your juices! A warm shower would hit quite nice right now..
“Besides, I think I might need a lil’ more of that. You’re not half bad..” obviously downplaying the fact that he had just sent you to another dimension. He didn’t mind though because he was happy to supply you with whatever you wanted from now on.
but of course, he had to take one final jab and poke fun at you!
“I see somebody’s being greedy, but that’s nothing new. I’m used to it. By the way, I borrowed some of your rice on the way over here..hope you wasn’t gone eat that.”
“And I see you’re still a tacky jackass but I’m used to it.”
the more things changed, they always remained the same!
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tagging: @spaceforher @c0pkiller @levisbaldheadedwh0re
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REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED!!
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thebirdsandthebats · 6 months
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Okay @s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e I’m sure you know plenty BUT I’m going to use your wonderful and hilarious comment on this as an excuse to talk about Bernard, bc I realized recently that there are plenty of ppl who haven’t read most of the comics he’s been in. So get ready for my long overdue:
UNPACKING BERNARD DOWD + HIS TRAUMA (for those who cannot keep up with comics but want to get to know him)
So to start, Tim met Bernard years ago ofc, when they were in high school. It’s established pretty quick that Bernard is an extremely Unserious guy LMAO, the first thing he does is literally circle Tim and try to feel him out socially, see what kind of guy he is. He’s the kind of guy who gets himself in trouble with his big mouth, and seems to enjoy poking at Tim and testing his patience. By the time we meet Bernard again in the recent years, he’s grown a lot, but at his core he’s still the light-hearted, fun, goofy guy with very strong opinions. Just less stand-offish, maybe
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Throughout the time Tim spends at this school though, Bernard does experience some wild shit. He lost Darla (somebody he really cared about), he experienced a shooting at his school, and then Darla came back from the dead, kind of scared the hell out of him, and used him to contact Tim again. It was kind of played for laughs, but like. That’s gotta fuck you up. (Robin #140)
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Obviously this is the kind of thing that maybeee has a lasting effect on you. And BECAUSE Tim Drake: Robin got cut so short and the writer had to rush to wrap up the series, we’re left to fill in a lot of gaps and draw conclusions about the years we didn’t see Bernard ourselves. But we absolutely get some insight as to his life after Tim left that school and we stopped seeing him in the comics. Spoiler alert: it was hard.
In TDR, Bernard discusses the the cult that he’d been in that Tim saved him from in Urban Legends. He says that “he’d accepted himself”, but others hadn’t. Obviously there’s the natural reading that he means his queerness (which has me chewing through drywall), but I think that he’s speaking very broadly too. Bernard is a very odd example of a civilian, because he’s always getting dragged into things much bigger than him. And even before that, he had his big ideas, his conspiracies, his loud personality. He tended to rub people the wrong way in high school. Then in issue #7 of TDR (the Bernard pov issue my most beloved, weird pacing aside) Bernard refers to this “oozy, sticky feeling” that he ALWAYS feels when Tim isn’t around. He says when he’s alone it’s harder to put one foot in front of the other. To keep GOING. To wake up every day.
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I think that Bernard has always felt like an outcast. (Robin #121, he doesn’t fit into any clique). He wasn’t as okay with it as he acted. And I think he wasn’t getting any attention from his parents. (Batman: Urban Legends #5, Bernard’s parents nonchalance to the days leading up to his kidnapping)
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So just like Bernard explained to Tim, that feeling got bad. and he wanted to let go. The chaos monsters, the cult, all of it was a means to an end. But then Tim agreed to see him again, and I think that sparked something in him. Because he started learning to fight. When he was tied down to that alter and Tim was saving him, I think it fully sank in to Bernard that he didn’t want to die. Reconnecting with Tim gave him hope and made him really feel something good for the first time in ages.
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So now that they’re dating after the cult fiasco, we get to know this current Bernard. A less goading, maybe calmer Bernard. But he’s still himself, of course, rambling about his ideas and making bad jokes and sticking to his guns (he has NEVER been a pushover, no idea where people get that idea?). I think a lot of people complained that Bernard mellowed out too much in terms of attitude, but I think if he seems “nicer” it’s because 1) he’s grown now. It’s been a while since we last saw him, and he’s clearly changed a lot. And 2) because he’s dating Tim now. He likes him a lot, and he’s an affectionate partner. He wants to lift Tim up.
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But the fact that he was pulled into a cult still remains. And as lighthearted as Bernard tries to be, that traumatic experience still happened. It said in Urban Legends #5 while Tim was searching for him that Bernard had welts on his arms and legs and had been acting different, so it’s not like he was just snatched up on a whim. He’d spent significant time there. For those who haven’t read much abt the ways cult trauma specifically can fuck you up, I recommend doing a search if you’re in a good headspace for that and want to understand him more. because it’s pretty bad.
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And then! yeah. you guessed it. Bernard gets kidnapped again. Chained up next to a BOMB that’s counting down. RIGHT WHEN HE’S WORKING ON HEALING FROM ALMOST BEING SACRIFICED BY A CULT.
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And surely this can’t get crazier. He’s almost died twice in the past 6 months. except, remember his parents? In TD:R #7, we really see a little more of his relationship with his parents. He doesn’t live up to their standards, and his dad specifically seems to just want to argue with him. The restaurant they’re at is attacked, and everything goes to shit, and. you know, I think these panels really speak for themselves.
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And for the record, when it’s revealed that everyone is seeing their worst fears, Bernard’s parents fears are not about him.
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So now Bernard has to deal with that. And we start to see that Bernard is really not as okay as he’s tried to be. He keeps a baseball bat by his door because he’s been kidnapped twice now. And just when he’d likely thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard the Chaos Monsters were back. I can’t imagine he feels safe. He lashes out for the first time since all this has happened and yells at Kate and Tim, because while they’re doing what they feel is necessary to save more people (AND I DONT BLAME THEM AT ALL), Bernard can’t talk about it.
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And I will forever be sad and insist that TD:R got cancelled too soon, just before we could get into the really juicy stuff, because things had to be wrapped up pretty quick and this was the only comic Bernard was consistently appearing in. But when Tim is giving himself up to the chaos monsters, Bernard goes out and rallies anyone he knows can help. Things were rushed because there was no more time to flesh out the story the way it could have been, but I’m including these panels just because I love Bernard Audacity Dowd using a fucking flashlight and shadow puppet to call Batman. geeking out for a minute. And then leading the battalion to save Tim with a SLEDGEHAMMER. gay people rule.
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So yeah! While I see the vision of how a lot of Bernard’s trauma was meant to be semi-resolved and let him come to peace after saving Tim back, we just didn’t have the time for him to heal properly. I’d give anything to get inside his brain again. UHH IF YOU READ THIS I HOPE YOU LOVE BERNARD NOW and don’t come at me if I left something out, some of my comics aren’t with me rn. Bonus TimBer for the road:
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cremebruleequeen · 7 months
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Boobs
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Jake Seresin x wife!reader (wc 700)
Summary
Jake notices something...different about his wife.
Warnings
Probably the most suggestive thing I've ever written lmfao but it's still not explicit or anything. Still, 16+ please. Mentions of pregnancy, lots of focus on reader's chest especially in the first part, use of the word boobs. Fem reader. Kinda mentions of sex? I'm pushing the "jake is absolutely whipped for his wife" agenda. He's also a horndog, but that's neither here nor there. Not proofread, but what else is new?
A/N
Whipped this up after an idea I had at like 3 am. Super short and kinda sweet. I love Jake Seresin fics (if my reblogs are any indication lmao) and thought I'd try to contribute. Side note, but that gif kills me every time.
Jake did a double take as he passed the couch. His wife, Y/N, sat cross legged, eating a bowl of ice cream and catching up on her favorite crime show. Jake loved getting to see her relaxed. Her job hardly ever allowed for it, so he made a point to not bother her when she was enjoying her time off. What he loved the most, although it’d take a lot for him to admit it, was how she dressed when she was relaxed.
Jake Seresin would always be the first to say that his wife was the most beautiful woman on the planet. It wasn’t a debatable matter, no matter what she seemed to think.
In her professional attire, he thought she looked incredibly bad-ass. Ready to take on anything that was thrown at her with grace and poise. When she was dressed up for a night out, he thought she looked like a super model (and the looks she received from both the men and women who saw them had him thinking they agreed.)
But when she was at home relaxing, hair messily thrown up in a bun and not a smudge of makeup on her face, she never looked more perfect. There was something so domestic and maybe intimate about the fact that she was letting her see him this way. Normally, she chose to wear sweats or (his favorite) a pair of shorts that were not even close to appropriate to wear in public, and one of his t-shirts. Today, however, she was wearing a tight, cropped, tank.
This was what caused him to question what he was seeing. Jake Seresin knew his wife (and by extension, her body) like the back of his hand.
He approached slowly, eyes not leaving her chest. He wondered for a moment if it was simply the shirt, if maybe it was the type with padding. But as he got closer, that clearly wasn’t the case. He sat next to her, ignoring when she greeted him.
Wordlessly, he reached out and practically groped her chest.
“Can I help you?” She laughed, looking at her husband. It wasn’t unlike Jake to be a bit handsy, but normally he gave her some warning or preamble first. “What happened to hello?”
“Your boobs are bigger.” He said, brow furrowing.
“What? No they’re not.” She set down her bowl, looking down at herself.
“Baby, trust me. I know what I’m talking about. They’re bigger.” He gave a squeeze, nodding solemnly.
Y/N swatted his hands away, replacing them with her own. “Huh.”
“See, I told you. You’re not supposed to start your period for another week or so, right?”
Y/N stared at him for a moment. “I can’t tell if it’s really creepy or really sweet that you know that.”
They both sat there in silence, staring at her boobs, when a lightbulb went off in his brain.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but then she remembered.
“Mav’s barbeque.”
 Jake’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “You think? I mean, you weren’t sick last week, maybe that was morning sickness?”
She nodded. Jake and Y/n sat in stunned silence. “Okay. Um. You stay right here. I’ll run to CVS or something and be right back.”
“Why?”
He stared at her like she’d grown two heads. “For a pregnancy test. Or a few. Drink some water” With that, he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys and wallet, leaving her sitting there.
Thirty minutes later, Jake sat on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing. What was he going to do? He knew he wanted kids, and she did too. But they had barely been married a year and had decided they weren’t ready yet. Although, if he was being completely honest, he’d be a bit disappointed if it wasn’t positive. He heard the bathroom door open, and she emerged, holding the test up for him to see.
“Oh, my God, really?” He asked, eyes filling with tears of their own volition. He picked her up and spun her in a circle, both of them laughing.
“You’re gonna be a dad, Jake.”
“I knew it. You’re boobs are definitely bigger.”
Thank you so much for reading! Any likes, comments, reblogs, or combination of the three are greatly appreciated!
If you liked this, check out my masterlist!
<3 Betty
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naeviskz · 28 days
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genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship
words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread
this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.
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“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.
you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.
hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.
“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”
“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.
he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.
“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.
“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.
how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.
the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.
so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.
“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.
no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.
hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”
* :.・゚゚・ ✿
“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.
the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.
you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.
“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.
a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.
just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.
“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”
your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.
once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.
“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”
“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.
maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?
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- 完 ♡︎
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the-raindeer-king · 25 days
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The 141 and having kids with them :) This was fueled by a random thought I had at work, and it was written at like 3am. Pls be kind.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Due to his personal experiences, I think he probably would be against having kids in the beginning. Like he's seen and been through so much, and I think his main fear would be ending up like his dad. So he always just wrote it off as something he never wanted to experience
UNTIL YOU COME IN 
And at some point, maybe after Johnny starts having kids, Simon sees you interacting with one of the babies. And something about seeing you with a baby on your hip flips a switch in his brain. 
He wants a kid and he wants one now.
Anyway y'all definitely don't stop at just one kid. I like the idea of Simon with 3 kids, all girls of course. He just exudes girl dad energy. 
He's a great dad too btw. Retires from field work after the second girl is born, and absolutely adores them. Encourages them to engage in extracurricular activities. Would coach their sports team if any of them join. Never misses a recital (totally doesn't try to get the other task force members to show up. 🙄 They just happened to be free lmao)
If any of the girls enlisted, he'd probably try to talk them out of it at first. War is brutal, and the idea of any of them going through what he did makes him sick with worry. But he comes around to the idea, and in the end, is so proud of them. 
He's proud of them regardless. All three are firecrackers with big personalities, and he loves them so much. 
John Price
I think, when he was younger, Price wanted kids. Liked the idea of a wife/husband, a house with a yard, and a couple kids. And it just… never happened. Life got in the way, and how could he bring a child into this world, with all the things he's seen? He made his peace with it, and moved on. 
And then he meets YOU. And suddenly he finds himself hoping for these things again. Especially kids. 
Give this man a baby, please! He exudes fatherly energy (in more ways than one ;p) 
After y'all have the first kid, he retires from the military all together. He's paid his dues, and he's got something far more important now: you, and your sweet baby boy :)
I could see Price either only having one, or having a handful of kids. Probably no more than 3 (two boys and a girl) 
A good dad. Maybe gets a little too invested in their sports games, probably ends up as a coach after correcting the old one too many times lmao 
Would be so proud if any of your kids followed in his footsteps. If none of them do, I think he'd be quietly disappointed but proud of them nonetheless. The two of you raised some wonderful kids. 
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Probably never really gave it much thought. Like having kids would be cool. Not having them is fine too. Kyle definitely wasn't stressing it, he's got bigger things to worry about.
I mean that is until YOU come along. And now he's thinking about getting married and having babies. 
Definitely talks with you about it in detail. He wants your opinion on it, what method to go about it, if you think you're ready for that. A very lengthy conversation that ends in a mutual agreement. 
I think Kyle wouldn't want more than 2. Like you could convince him, if you want more. But he's fine with a small family. 
2 boys. Twins. Absolutely a handful, and Kyle's there to help when he can. I don't think he'd leave the military until the boys are older, maybe 10/11. But he steps up when he is home, giving you a well deserved break from parenting. 
Loves your boys. Play wrestles with them when they're little, brings them trinkets back from his deployments, takes note of their interests and different personalities. 
Wouldn't mind either way if they enlisted or not. Kyle would be proud of them regardless. You've raised two fine boys, what's not to be proud of?
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish 
Oh, Johnny boy here wants a big family. He's dead set on having kids. It absolutely is a deal breaker for him. His partner has to want kids too.
So when he meets you. And you want kids too, he's over the moon. 
If you've got a uterus, the first kid definitely happens unintentionally. Y'all weren't actively trying, Johnny just can't keep it in his pants lmao. 
If not, then it's all planned out and everything goes smoothly, whether that's surrogate or adoption. 
Like I said, BIG family. I'm talking like 5 kids at the least. You cannot talk him out of it.
Also gives big girl dad energy. Probably ends up with 4 girls and 1 boy. And he's fine with it! Loves getting his nails painted and throwing tea parties, just as much as he loves playing soccer and wrestling 
Like Kyle, Johnny doesn't immediately retire. Sometime after the girl 4 and the baby boy, he'd retire from field work. But he's always facetiming with the kids and bringing them stuff back. Being dad doesn't stop just because he's halfway across the world. 
Would be so proud if any of them enlisted. Would probably cry unashamed. But he's equally as proud of them if they don't. 
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onewingeddove444 · 9 months
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★How the bachelors would react if they accidentally made you cry
word count: 1.1k
Alex:
-would probably not even notice you're crying at first
-his expression would change so quickly
-😀😦
-kind of knew he had it coming though, since a lot of the stuff that flies out of his mouth is....well😇
-would IMMEDIATELY start taking the blame, saying things like "nahhh i didn't actually mean that i lied haha no idea why i said that i'm so stupid" ((starts blaming it on his hormones being affected by working out or something😭😭))
-hesitates at first, but pulls you into the tightest embrace you've ever felt ngl probably hurts a little lol
-his way of apologising to you is saying "you can punch me as hard as you want, i deserve it!!!!"
-starts treating you like royalty for another month, to the point where it becomes annoying
-every time you bring it up, even as a joke, he basically drops to his knees and starts apologising all over again
Elliott:
-if you thought this man was already dramatic as it is....lord🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️
-would try to be cool about it, while in his head he's already pressing a dagger to his neck, saying that he has now betrayed his heart and doesn't want to go on any longer
-the moment he sees tears flowing down your face, the only word able to come out of his mouth is a soft "no, no, no..."
-he'd probably start crying with you😭😭😭
-starts whispering the most loving and kind things about yourself into your ear
-literally compares you to the most breathtaking images you could ever envision
-alternative scenario, where he just drops to the floor and starts begging for your forgiveness, even though what he said wasn't really that bad
-after that, he checks up on you every 5 minutes, to make sure you're not upset with him
-would swear on his life and soul to never hurt you again ((mind you it was never that serious😭))
-writes you so many short poems...atp they just become a whole book
Harvey:
-man....😭
-probably hurts him more than it does you lmao
-you crying would be too much for him already...but crying because of him?? ouuu
-is ready to completely retract what he said, even if he's absolutely right, that just doesn't matter to him anymore
-he just stands there for a good amount of time, since he really doesn't know how to deal with these kinds of emotions
-this might just be the first time this man has made someone cry because...let's be fr☠️
-would do that thing where he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs ((after that he's kinda clueless though😭))
-this literally being his worst nightmare...in his eyes hurting you is the equivalent of failing as a partner...and he's not really allowed to fail too often🙁
-would wait 30 years until you're not upset with him ((it takes you exactly 1 minute btw)), and after that it's flowers delivered to your doorstep every day of the week
-even if it were to be a one-time occurrence, he would NEVER EVER forget it, and he would always justify spoiling you with it ((using the 4 cents he makes from the clinic👎))
Sam:
-he is not that smart when it comes to verbalising thoughts please forgive him
-says things like "aw man you're crying😔😔😔😭😭“
-if he's holding a drink or eating something, he offers it to you, even if there's a single bite/sip left of it
-refuses to smile until he's 100% sure you've forgiven him, otherwise he just looks like this: :--(
-low-key fighting for his life not to pull out his phone and google "how to comfort crying person wikihow"
-once you tell him that it's okay between you two bro gets jolly, running around in circles, giggling, twirling his hair and laying down kicking his feet up
-the thing he did that upset you could've been minor, but that still doesn't stop him from saying "man...😔🤦 i'm so glad this chapter is behind us now.." like okay???😭😭😭 ((bonus points if he describes this as a "rough patch" in your relationship))
-tries making something for you after, fails miserably, resorts to showing you cool skateboard tricks he learned off of youtube
-learns his lesson and actually thinks more before he says something ((to the best of his ability))
-promises to write a song about your love and go platinum ((shows it to sebastian and gets banned from writing lyrics for the band forever))
Sebastian:
-freezes immediately
-literally unable to get a single word out, what is he supposed to do in his situation😭
-manages to whisper "i didn't mean..." and proceeds to go quiet after that
-he's been living a sheltered life for a very long time, so he's really scared that whatever he says it will only hurt you even more
-you can definitely see his expression change...not only does it soften but he looks UPSET upset, mostly with himself
-pulls you into a hug, hoping that it'll help a little bit ((it does, bro seems like a good hugger))
-asks you if there's anything he can do to cheer you up, and let me tell you he'd really do anything
-does not let you go for the rest of the day, having his arm wrapped around you, holding your hand, even if it's just the pinky fingers touching
-you have to keep reassuring him that it's okay now, he literally hits you with the "are you sure you're not mad at me?" every 3 seconds just to make sure you guys are good🙏
-lets you touch whatever you want in his room, i'm talking elementary school pictures, old sketchbooks, it's all yours, no matter how humiliating
Shane:
-um...uh😭🙅‍♀️
-yeah he is PISSED he's made you cry, he might've been mean when he first saw you, but now??? that is just not allowed in his mind idc
-jumps to self-deprecation immediately, talking about how he's an asshole, how he always fucks things up (🙁)
-just takes the whole blame on himself, no problem with that
-kind of saw this happening in the nearest future, that man does not have a very good opinion of himself let's be honest😭
-you could tell him you forgive him and he'd be like "nah don't do that wtf i don't deserve it😔"
-doesn't try comforting you at first, since he just assumes that you might never want to see him again
-but after the dust settles he reassures you that he's going to do everything to make sure this doesn't happen again
-sends you musty frozen pizza in the mail in retaliation (sigh🙁)
-would love to pretend this never happened, but making you cry really took a hit on his self-esteem, however it also made him think about how to be the best partner you can have
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ellastone-olsen · 3 months
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Would it be possible if you could do a g!p wandanat x female reader with sex pollen?? Its okay if you cant, just an idea if you have nothing else to write🫣🤭
Blue glow - WandaNat
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DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY
Summary: Curiosity and alien flowers work wonders.
Pairing: G!PWandaNat × fem!R
Warnings:NSWF,SMUT SMUT SMUT, handjob, blowjob, breeding kink, threesome, cockwarming, dirty talk, after care
DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES
Word count: 1.7k
AN: hi anon! I’m glad to see my first request thank you! honestly, until that moment I didn’t know what sex pollen is and I had to turn to google lmao
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"What is that?." You asked looking at the strange plant in the pot. "Have you decided to take up gardening? Tony, I thought you weren't old enough to act like my grandma." You stop laughing when the man looks at you sternly, apparently not appreciating the jokes about his age. “This, by the way, is a plant unknown to science (at least on Earth), which I personally grew from seeds strictly for research and not what you just said.” “Okay let’s say it’s like this, let me take a closer does it smell like something?” You also kept a couple of cacti in your room at the Avengers headquarters, which recently bloomed by the way. As soon as you stood up and approached to the pot, a man blocked your way. “Are you crazy, what did I just say? Don’t touch this thing, I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not.” You looked at him sternly and muttered under your breath so that he could also hear, “You said not to touch, not to smell.” The attempt failed.
late Friday evening. Everyone went to their rooms or left the headquarters altogether. There was silence everywhere, only the sounds of Wanda’s steps were heard somewhere in the corridor. The woman had almost reached her destination when she saw some kind of blue glow in the darkness, “What the fuck...”. She came closer and examined some kind of plant that vaguely resembled a flycatcher, but with more spherical “traps.” Then she suddenly remembered...
“Y/N, Natasha, come here let’s hurry up. Y/N, you told me about something in Tony’s office. Check it out, Natasha take a look too.” Apparently the witch was very impressed by the flower, because she excitedly pulled both of you by the hands towards the light source. And where did she get this passion for flora…
“Wanda, we were already getting ready to go to bed, what did you see there?” Nat suddenly fell silent, looking at the strange light. “Did you seriously drag me out of bed for this succulent or what is this?!” She clearly did not share the witch's interest. “Oh, you’re right, this is the flower I told you about. Tony takes such good care of it, and apparently it’s...bloomed? Let’s take a closer and look, it’s cool,” Nat rolled her eyes but followed you two. You raised your face to the flower, wanting to look at it, when suddenly... the ball of the bud opened releasing pollen into the air, apparently from which the light came.
There is absolutely everything around in this stuff, you can hear Natasha’s exclamations: “Don’t breathe in this, it can be poisonous. Damn it, I told you not to come here.” The three of you cough, covering your faces, and go out into the corridor, shaking yourself and each other from the remaining dust. “Now you make me need to take a shower again.” The woman grumbles something else while Wanda calms her down, you also want to answer, but suddenly this feeling comes.
If there was a mirror in front of you right now, you could appreciate how quickly your pupils are dilating, as if you were a drug addict on a high (technically you were), beads of sweat are rolling off your forehead and this pulsation between your legs is as if you were given a dose of an aphrodisiac multiplied by five times. Oh no this is definitely not normal, you need to tell Wanda and Natasha what is happening apparently because of this cute glowing flower. While you were in your thoughts you didn't notice how the swearing died down and both women also noticed the changes.
When you turned your head, you saw two women looking at you with hunger and tents in their pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of the obvious bulge on both of your girlfriends and you impatiently walked over to Wanda, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Oh God, I don't know what it is, but I need you both so bad." Natasha came up from behind, pressing her rock-hard dick to your ass, her arms wrapped around your waist and the redhead’s whisper was heard in your ear. "Oh don't worry baby you'll get what you want.Damn I'm going to die if I don't fill your pretty pussy at least twice. What do you think Wanda?"
You feel the soft material of the sheets as they throw you on the bed, watching as they take off their clothes and look at you as if you were their prey. Your own panties are already hopelessly ruined, lub flows down your thighs at the sight of your girlfriends.
You quickly take of your clothes after which Nat takes you in her arms, pressing a kiss on your lips, you feel her cock poking into your stomach and dripping with pre-cum. Wanda, meanwhile stands behind stroking her length at this spectacle. "Mmm..Nat please." You rock your hips to rub against her cock, but you are suddenly pulled to your feet and forced to your knees.
"No no, first you're going to take every inch of my dick into your mouth, baby." The tip of her cock pressed against your lips and you obediently open your mouth and shake your head along entire length. Wanda can’t just watch anymore and comes up to you, takes your hand and places it on her pulsating length. "Come on baby, jerk off Wanda you can't leave either of us needy. Damn Wanda her mouth feels so good around me. That's such a good cocksucker." You move your hand and rub your thumb over Wanda's sensitive red tip as she begins to rock into your hand. Tears well up in your eyes when Natasha grabs your hair and shuts your mouth. Wanda helps you jerk her off and grins, “What is it baby girl? Is Nat’s dick too big for you? You’re so beautiful, now I want to cum all over your face.”
Natasha began to shamelessly fuck your mouth, running after her orgasm, the head of her dick hitting the back wall of your throat every time. "That's itmbaby, I'm going to cum in your beautiful fucking mouth and you'll swallow every drop. Wanda, are you close? Cum with me." Your hand was thrown away so that Wanda could jerk herself off, cumming all over your face, ropes of Natasha's cum hit your throat and you breathed through your nose as you swallowed every drop as you were told.
You took a deep breath as the redhead pulled out of your mouth and wiped Wanda's release off your face. When you were lifted from the floor, a small puddle of your arousal remained on it, your legs did not obey and your knees were red. You were already dripping and the pitiful whining and pleas left your mouth without hindrance. “Please it hurts so much, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
"What do you think Wanda, I think she deserves to have you fill her pussy." The witch got off with a simple nod as her two strong hands forced you onto all fours on the bed, allowing her to position herself behind you so she could start pounding into you without warning. "God Nat, her pussy was made for my cock, so greedy and tight. You need to see how well she takes me." Nat, meanwhile, spat on her hand for extra lub and stroked her red sensitive tip, appreciating how good the two of you looked. The long-awaited feeling of filling and Wanda’s quick thrusts drove you crazy, you put your hand under you, stimulating your swollen clit. "Yes yes thank you thank you so good fuck I'm gonna cum can I cum?" You know that with the tip of Wanda’s cock deliciously hitting that nice spot inside you, you wouldn’t last long, and having received approval, a minute later the orgasm hit you with incredible force. "Oh yes Y/N you squeeze my cock so well. Oh my God, cum for me like that, cum all over my length." The witch praised you.
You were turned over again and your back touched the cool sheets. Wanda pounding into you hearing a cute whine from your mouth, "Too sensitive. It's too much." "Oh baby girl you can take it. I need to filled this tight pussy so badly. You want my cum inside don't you? Do you love this cock?" "Yes yes I love so fucking much!". Natasha continued to jerk herself off when a cute little idea popped into her head that she only bothered to tell the witch about. The women looked at each other and Wanda nodded in approval of the plan.
The witch's thrusts became faster and she exploded, releasing her load inside you. “Oh yeah baby fuck take all my cum!” The feeling of fullness and how good it was, was the only thing you could think about. Wanda, meanwhile, pulled out of you, giving way to the redhead. Natasha turned you around, taking you by the hips and jerking off her cock, she stuck only the tip inside you, filling you even more. "Oh fuck fuck I'm so full fuck Natasha!" “That’s it my little greedy girl, I know you love it when I fill you up .” The only sounds in the room were heavy sighs and Nat's little whining as she pulled out and looked at the beautiful picture in front of her.
You were lying on your shared bed, Wanda took napkins from the nightstand and carefully wiped all the liquids from your thighs, kissing you and telling you how good you are and how much she loves you. When the witch finished, Natasha threw a robe over your naked body, picked you up, kissing your cheeks and carried you to the bathroom so they could both take care of you the way you truly deserve.
Sitting in a hot bubble bath, you asked, “How do we tell Tony about the pollen effect of his science experiment?”
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littledovesnow · 3 months
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a snow wedding | young!corioulanus x fem!reader
a/n: you'll never guess who officiates their wedding lmao
word count: 1.8k (i could have gone on for like 10k honestly weddings are so fun to writ)
content warnings: ooc!coriolanus, coryo is nicer in my fics than the book/movie (more of the coriolanus at the start of the movie tbh), some hinting at bedroom festivites
You know,” you looked in the mirror at your maid of honor. “I always thought you and Coryo would be the two at the end of the aisle reciting vows.”
Clemensia choked on her mimosa, laughter bubbling over the glass. “The way he’s always looked at you? Absolutely no doubt in my mind you two would end up together.” She replied, setting the flute over and walking over to you.
You peered over at the pristine white gown hanging up, still just as beautiful as when you picked it out two months ago.
Coriolanus had proposed almost a year ago, wanting nothing more than to finally call you Mrs. Snow. “It would make me the happiest man in the Capitol, the country.”
You nodded furiously, watching as he slid the exquisite gold band adorned with a halo of small diamonds around a larger stone. It was a lavish ring, one you assumed he had ruminated over after securing a permanent position in the Citadel alongside Dr. Gaul.
A knock on the door broke up the conversation between the two women, Tigris popping her head into the makeshift bridal suite. “Just checking to see if you need anything before I go down to meet Grandma’am.”
“Tigris, this gown is to die for!” Clemensia praised the tailor, whose cheeks flushed like she had spent weeks in the sun.
“It’s just something I threw together.”
“Oh, don’t be modest, Tigris. It’s one of the most beautiful designs I’ve seen some out of your studio.” You smiled, pulling Tigris into the room more. “But I do have one thing you might have to help me with.”
“What might that be?”
You gestured to the gown, spinning to look at the two most important women in your life. “Can you ladies help me get into this dress? The corset looks like a game Coryo would make up in the Games.”
Clemensia laughed, and Tigris clapped enthusiastically, setting her purse on the pristine couch in the corner.
-----
Coriolanus messed with the cuff links he had purchased for the day exclusively, looking at the small photograph of his mother he kept in his wallet. It was new for him, carrying a wallet around.
He had only a few things in there, his Citadel ID card, a few hundred dollars­—pocket change for him nowadays—and the crumbled notebook paper he had written his vows on one day in the lab while Dr. Gaul met with President Ravenstill and Dean Highbottom.
They were messy, lines crossed out and words in the margins, and Coriolanus was fairly certain his sweaty palm had rubbed a few lines into illegible scribbles. He wouldn’t need them, though, he’s stared at this paper for weeks, the words engrained into his mind for the rest of his days.
He looked up when he heard a knock on his door, his best man stepping into the room.
“You just about ready?” Festus asked, looking around at the mostly bare room. “I think your grandmother is about ready to charge into the bridal suite and wed the two of you.”
If asked who he would think would be his best man at his wedding, Coriolanus Snow would never have said Festus Creed, but after the 10th Hunger Games and his short Peacekeeping stint, the two grew close, something akin to friendship.
“It was Grandma’am’s idea to have an evening ceremony.” Coriolanus muttered mostly to himself, but he tucked his wallet and vows back into his pocket, nodding at the curly-haired man.
“I am ready.”
-----
Delicately rubbing your sweaty palm on your dress, you peered through the small opening between two columns, trying to get a peek at your soon-to-be husband.
“Oh, you’ll see him soon enough!” Lysistrata Vickers smiled at you, bringing you into a hug.
You, Clemensia, and Lysistrata had all grown closer after your mentorship in the Games, going so far as to become friends and spend weekend trips in Districts One and Two on occasion.
“I haven’t seen him all weekend, Lyssie! He wouldn’t even tell me what color his suit is. All I know is that it complements his eyes, and I got that from Tigris!”
Clemensia and Lysistrata shared a knowing look, having seen Coriolanus’ tuxedo as they wished him a good morning in passing.
“He looks exquisite, I hope that makeup is waterproof because I know you’ll be a puddle as soon as you see him!”
Your grin nearly split your face in two, preparing to seal your fate as a Snow.
Clemensia took your hand and gave it a squeeze, stepping up to walk down the aisle with you since neither of your parents were able to.
Lysistrata marched down the split of chairs first, grinning ear-to-ear as she met up with her own husband, Festus downright devouring her with his eyes.
You took a deep breath as you turned around the corner, eyes dancing from one side of the room to the other.
You and Coriolanus wanted to have a smaller audience in person, with a majority of the Capitol and Districts tuning into the wedding live on TV.
Dr. Gaul, who you and Coriolanus had asked to officiate the wedding, had a positively radiant smile on her face, a rarity for the woman. But how could she not, her two star pupils were getting married today.
You finally locked eyes with your fiancé, you Coriolanus, your Coryo. Most would take the look on his face for a smirk, but you knew the man you were about to marry, you knew he was holding back a million-watt smile.
Before you knew it, you were at the end of the aisle, Clemensia squeezing your hand and taking the bouquet of red and white roses, giving you the chance to smooth the skirt of your gown.
“Hi.” You whispered, cheeks beginning to ache from your smile.
Coriolanus chuckled softly, taking both of your hands in his own, giving them a squeeze. “Hi, gorgeous.”
Dr. Gaul, who was perhaps the only one close enough to hear the small greetings, looked at you both to make sure it was okay for her to begin.
“Today, we are here to celebrate the union of two of Panem’s most important people, two people who I have gotten to know throughout their time at the Academy, University, and mentorship.”
The ceremony was shorter than some other weddings you had been to, with you and Coriolanus wanting to share vows in private, not wanting the nation to listen in, wanting to keep some things between the two of you.
Before you knew it, Dr. Gaul was announcing you two as the Snows, the crowd erupting into cheers as you and Coriolanus shared your first kiss as a married couple.
-----
With the ceremony over, you and Coriolanus had a short period of time before the reception, taking place in one of the grandest ballrooms in the Capitol. There would be more people at the reception than there were at the ceremony, with Coriolanus getting ready to run for election in the coming months, so you knew you had to be on your best behavior and help pull the votes in for your husband.
“What’re you thinking about, wife?” Coriolanus asked, lovesick smile on his face as he referred to you as his wife for the first time.
“Hmm?” You asked, shaking your head like an Etch-a-Sketch. “Nothing, just how lucky I am that you’re my husband.”
“Oh? I thought I was the lucky one.” Coriolanus replied, leaning in to kiss you in the back of the luxury car, which was taking you to the reception hall.
You couldn’t help the blush that tinted your cheeks. “Coryo,” you murmured, slipping off the bright red heels you had picked out to wear to the reception, Coriolanus grinning up at you from between your legs as you had brought the idea up one night a few weeks ago.
“How does it feel, to be a Snow?” Coriolanus asked, knowing glint in his eyes.
“Feels like I’m worth a million bucks.”
Coriolanus laughed, fixing his bowtie as the car pulled up to the entrance, groaning when he saw Lucky Flickerman and his parade of cameras.
You knew better than to say anything to the weatherman-turned-host, leaving it all up to Coriolanus, who greeted the cameras with a stiff smile and a “it feels wonderful, something I’ve always dreamt of” when asked how it felt being married.
Entering the reception, you and Coriolanus were greeted with cheers, clapping, and a few wolf whistles.
You two did first rounds greeting the more important people in the room, people you two had known since you were both children.
Tigris squealed so loud you and Coriolanus both winced at the pitch, but laughed as she clapped and hugged you two. “Officially part of the family! I’ve always wanted a sister!”
“Tigris, we aren’t even siblings.” Coriolanus chuckled, hand around your waist and thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly.
You lightly slapped the man’s chest. “Oh, hush. She’s been a sister to me since we first started dating.”
Tigris took your hand, admiring the new addition to your left ring finger. Next to the engagement ring now sat a white gold wedding band, matching the one that now adorned Coriolanus’ left hand.
You promised to have a girl��s night with Tigris as Coriolanus dragged you away, knowing you two would be talking all night if he didn’t break up the conversation while there was a lull.
The two of you ended up in front of Casca Highbottom, who was unusually well-groomed, beard tame and hair gelled. “Well, I guess you can thank me for this.”
“Pardon?” You asked, feeling Coriolanus tense at the elder’s words.
“If it wasn’t for my thinking of the Hunger Games, you two would never have spoken a word to each other.”
Coriolanus did nothing more than give a short smile to the man, thanking him for his wedding gift before you two left him to his morphling and posca.
“Why did you invite him, Coryo?” You asked, finally being able to sit for a moment.
“It would have looked bad to not have my father’s best friend here. The man technically did is the reason we’re where we are now.”
You shrugged, agreeing with Coriolanus. “Come on, I want some cake.”
Coriolanus laughed, following you towards the four-tiered red-velvet cake.
------
Collapsing onto the bed, you sighed contently as you toed off the red heels you had been dancing in all night.
“What do you think, shall we spend our first night married as we did the last night as an unmarried couple?” Coriolanus asked, already shedding his clothing.
“Oh, I like the way you think.” You smiled, sitting up. “But you have to help me undo this corset before anything.”
a/n: maybe some good angst next? what do you think my little snakes my little rainbow fiends
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copper-16 · 18 days
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You Didn't Let Me Finish
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Ingrid had a rule that she had held onto ever since she started working as a stripper: she doesn't sleep with clients.
Usually.
Ingrid doesn't usually sleep with clients. Exceptions must be made for most rules anyways though, right?
(a/n: Yes it's a stripper fic. I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone, this is just a silly little idea I had in my head and decided to write on a whim. Feel free to skip if it's not your thing! Also I didn't proofread it, so ignore any mistake lmao)
Sometimes, Ingrid wasn’t exactly sure how she had ended up here. 
The Norwegian had done a semester abroad in Spain when she was in university, and found that she absolutely loved the city. So when the opportunity to move to Barcelona presented itself after graduation, she jumped at the chance to go. Her study abroad had been in Madrid, but it was still Spain, right? 
And the Norwegian actually preferred Barcelona to Madrid, the longer she lived here. She enjoyed the energy of the city, how posh and lively it was, how wonderfully kind the people were. The job she was offered was modest, and despite the fact that she got by, Ingrid wasn’t all that comfortable with living from paycheck to paycheck if she didn’t have to. 
Which was exactly how she had found herself at Dollhouse. It was the most exclusive strip club in Barcelona, catering only to those clients who could pay for the supreme services, and they only accepted the best when it came to their girls. 
The owner had taken one look at Ingrid, roving his eyes up and down the dark haired woman with interest before he was nodding, clearly pleased with what he was seeing. Her ability to speak both English and some Spanish came in handy, and she became a regular for many of the international clients. 
Ingrid was paid well, only worked three nights a week, and it helped her to nearly double her salary with the tips she was given. She gave lap dances, some pole work, did a few shows on the main stage, served customers when asked. It was an easy gig, and she couldn’t help but feel appreciated given the reaction that she could stir up in most men. It was addicting, really. She felt powerful and in control, her confidence only rising the longer she worked there. 
It wasn’t sex. People often got that mixed up, that being a stripper meant sex. It could mean sex, if that was what the girls wanted, but Ingrid had little interest in the older men who came into her rooms. She was as gay as they came, and it was very rare for them to receive a female client, and Ingrid had never had the pleasure of having one, not personally. 
But she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, if the right person came along. 
It’s just, nobody had. 
But perhaps that would change. 
It was a Sunday night, which meant that the Dollhouse was relatively calm. Ingrid was in the back room with a few of the other girls, getting ready for her show in around thirty minutes when Miguel came back. 
“Ingrid, Misa!” He called, and both women turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. They stood, setting their makeup down to walk over to their boss, who was in charge of the scheduling. 
Miguel was gruff but kind, and he always made sure the girls were comfortable and not exploited. He could be a bit rough around the edges but he never failed to make the girls feel cared for as people and not just objects, and in return they did their best to make his life as painless as possible. It was a good gig, they all knew that, compared to the nasty bastards at some of the other places around town. 
“We have two clients in separate private rooms. Footballers, booked after winning something big I think, I want the two of you to take them,” Miguel explained, and he looked between Misa and Ingrid with a critical eye, clearly trying to decide who to send where. 
Despite the fact that Ingrid was Norwegian and Misa was Spanish, the two actually looked quite similar. Ingrid was paler, taller, and less tattooed than Misa was, but in terms of build and physical appearance, they were rather alike. 
“Misa, I want you in Room One and Ingrid in Room Two, Misa your Spanish is better than Ingrid’s. The girls will cover your sets for the night so don’t worry about that. They’ve booked for the rest of the night so make sure to give them their money's worth but you’re free to leave when you are done, alright?” Miguel decided, and Ingrid and Misa both nodded. 
“Oh and–”
“If they do anything creepy we will come find you,” Ingrid and Misa rattled off in perfect unison, and Miguel scowled at his predictability before he shooed them away to go get changed, the two women smiling at the action. 
Ingrid and Misa walked back to the changing room, each of them looking through the different lingerie sets they could wear. 
“What are you thinking?” Misa asked as she pulled out a purple lace set before shaking her head, shoving it back in her closet. 
“Well if they paid for the whole night then clearly they have money, probably want something expensive and distinguished. Footballers can be assholes and handsy, and they think too much with their dicks and not enough with their heads,” Ingrid scoffs lightly, and Misa snorts as she looks over at the dark haired woman’s closet. 
“Hmm…you’re going to wear this,” Misa decides, pulling out a hunter green piece of lace, and Ingrid raises her brow before nodding her agreement, looking over at the Spaniard’s closet. 
“And you’re going to do this, I’ve seen you in it before and your chest looks amazing in it,” Ingrid says with an air of finality, and Misa smirks at the outfit before they both went into their changing rooms to slip their clothes off and put the lace on. They don’t bother with robes, the hallway to the private rooms is secluded from the rest of the club anyways, so the two women make their way back together, chatting lightly about their day jobs, what their weeks look like. 
By the time they make it to Room One and Room Two, the women are both relaxed and ready to do their job. Neither of them really has any idea what lies beyond the door besides a footballer, so with one final goodbye they both enter the passcodes to the room before stepping in. 
Ingrid closes the door behind her before turning around, and she can’t help the way that her eyebrows jump in surprise when she sees who it is sitting at the table. 
The room is set up with a bed, a couch and two loveseats, as well as a table with four dining room chairs. Lap dances are usually given in the chairs at the table or the loveseats, but the rest of the room can be utilized however the girls may choose to. 
The thing that surprises Ingrid though, is the fact that the person sitting at the table is a woman, and not a man. 
The woman stands, the chair rustling against the floor as she pushes it back before she steps forward to examine Ingrid. Her gaze is curious but not sharp, her entire body language relaxed. She’s clearly a footballer, her body muscled and well built.  
She can’t be more than a few years older than Ingrid, and she’s just an inch or two shorter than her with light, sandy blonde hair that is straightened just past her shoulder. Her hazel eyes take Ingrid in, the light lace that covers her body, and she nods appreciatively for a moment before cocking her head. 
“Hello,” she offers, and Ingrid is quick to respond, the woman’s gaze making her feel a little bit hot. 
“Hi,” Ingrid responds, not entirely sure what to say. The woman was speaking to her in English, so clearly she recognized that the Norwegian was a foreigner, though she wasn’t exactly sure how she noticed that before she had even spoken. 
“Why did they send you in here to me?” The woman asked curiously, her hazel eyes still boring into Ingrid. The question is surprising, considering the fact that they were at a strip club. They sent her in here to do her job, but the Norwegian gets the sense that isn’t what this woman means, so she answers with more candor.  
“My coworkers' Spanish is better than mine. Presumably your friend only speaks Spanish, but you clearly can speak English well, so here I am,” Ingrid supposes, and the woman nods slowly before her lips quirk up in a smirk. 
“My friend can speak enough English for tonight, I promise. I think you should switch rooms…I insist actually. I think she’ll be quite charmed by…” the woman looks down at Ingrid once more before her gaze returns to the dark haired woman’s eyes, “...you.”   
Ingrid’s eyebrows raise in surprise before she nods in agreement, never one to say no to a client request unless it really was something she couldn’t do. 
“If that’s what you wish…” Ingrid trails off, still unsure of the woman’s name. 
“Alexia. And my friend's name in the other room is María,” she supplies, and Ingrid regards her for another minute before slipping out of the room, Alexia turning back to sit down in the chair she had been in originally. 
The Norwegian walks over to Room One briskly, rapping on the door three times before she steps back, waiting for Misa to come out. It only takes a few seconds for the Spaniard to slide out of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. 
“We need to switch, the other woman requested it,” Ingrid explains, and Misa nods for a second before she looks back at the room. 
“Can you believe it’s women? And god, if the second one is as hot as this one…” Misa trails off, practically drooling, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh lightly, because really she quite agrees. Misa is the only other gay woman at Dollhouse, and Ingrid finds solace in the fact that she isn’t alone, calmed by the Spaniards presence. 
“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. Her name is Alexia,” Ingrid adds before the younger woman can leave, and Misa nods before she gestures back at the room next to them. 
“Names Mapi,” Misa supplies, and Ingrid’s eyebrows furrow at the fact she’s now been told two separate names for this woman. But honestly, if she was even half as attractive as the first woman, Ingrid was seriously going to be in trouble. 
The first woman, Alexia, hadn’t exactly been her type per say, but objectively she was very attractive. 
As Misa disappears down the hallway Ingrid takes a deep breath, trying to center herself and remain calm at what is about to occur. She knew what the deal was with men, how to dance and act. 
But women were different, Ingrid knew that even if she had never had a female client. They were more watchful, more appreciative, more in tune. 
And well, if this woman was as attractive as Misa was making her out to be, she might be in a bit of trouble. 
The green eyed woman punched in the code before she stepped into the room, once again shutting the door behind her. 
Ingrid turned around, taking in the room and the woman who was settled on one of the room's two armchairs. 
And god was Misa wrong. 
This woman wasn’t attractive. 
She was mind numbingly, astronomically stunning, and it takes everything in Ingrid not to let her jaw physically drop. 
The woman had her hair down in beach waves, lighter highlights against the brunette of her hair accenting the dark strands, framing dark eyes and supple, light pink lips that are set in a smirk. 
She’s wearing a button down that has far too many buttons undone, but it only serves to show off her cleavage, biceps straining against the tight black fabric. She has on gray dress pants, and she shifts her shirt sleeve up to glance at her watch before she stands, making her way over to Ingrid. 
“Hola princesa,” the woman greets softly, her voice raspy and deliciously low, and if Ingrid wasn’t wet at just the sight of her, she was now. 
If there was anyone who was going to break her rule of not sleeping with someone, it would be this woman. That was assuming she wanted to as well, but if the glint in her eyes was anywhere near as serious as it looked, Ingrid thought her chances might be relatively high. 
She scrambled to gather as much Spanish as she possibly could. It was a little pathetic that she wasn’t more fluent, but between this being her third language and the fact that her work was in English and most of her friends spoke the language, her Spanish could definitely use some work. 
“Hola,” Ingrid rushed to reply, internally cringing at how bad her accent was while understanding washed over the woman’s face, and she switched to a heavily Spanish accented English. 
“Ah, English, no?” The woman suggested, no malice in her tone, and Ingrid let out a small sigh before she nodded. 
“Si,” she acquiesced in a bit of a defeated tone, but the woman simply tipped her head back in a delicious laugh, something light and breathy, her neck on full display. She had a tattoo on it, and Ingrid could see more ink peaking back at her on the woman’s available skin. 
It did absolutely nothing to help the green eyed woman’s aching core, but she ignored it in favor of returning to the problem at hand, to the fact that she needed to get on with the performance for this woman. 
“Sit?” Ingrid asked gently, gesturing to the table and chairs that surrounded it, walking over to pull one of them out. 
The woman made no move to walk over, seemingly not done with the conversation. 
“I’m Mapi,” she said instead, and Ingrid raised her brow at the woman, clearly a little curious. 
“I’ve been told by a confident source that your name is María,” Ingrid sidesteps the introduction to ask the question, watching the way that the woman’s eyes darkened with lust when she says her name. 
“Have you now?” Mapi drawls, the surprise clear in her face. The smirk is back, and she finally begins to walk toward the table, but before she sits she stands in front of Ingrid, still only looking her in the eyes. 
The Norwegian keeps waiting for her to drop her eyes down, to look over the lace that could hardly be described as modest, but the smaller woman seems hell bent on keeping her eyes trained on Ingrid’s. 
“And you are?” She asks lightly, the dark haired woman answering her question quickly and easily. 
“My name is Ingrid,” she murmurs, once again gesturing at the chair, and this time Mapi takes her up on her offer. The Spaniard sits down before she looks up at the Norwegian, who strolls over to turn the music on. 
“Any requests?” Ingrid questioned, looking back at Mapi to find the woman staring at her with hooded eyes and a hungry gaze. She shakes her head, finding no offers. 
“Whatever you prefer,” Mapi decides, and Ingrid observes the woman for a moment before nodding, turning back to the speaker system. She sets up her playlist, playing the song TiO by Zayn, which had been a recent favorite of hers. 
The song is a bit of a quicker pace, which she liked to start out with. It was easy to flash the quick movements before she let things get sensual, and her approach for this woman is absolutely no different. 
She turns back toward the table, walking over in long strides before she comes to rest in front of Mapi, her ass pressed back into the table behind her. 
“Can I touch you?” Ingrid asks in a low voice, tossing her thick, dark hair over one shoulder. Mapi looks up at her with an unreadable expression, holding eye contact before she nodded carefully. 
The Norwegian stood from the table, stepping forward. She turned, rounding the chair that Mapi was currently settled in, just watching. The brunette didn’t look back at her, but did meet her eyes when Ingrid finally circled all the way back to the front of the chair. 
It’s at this point that Ingrid brings her hand up, resting it over the Spaniard’s collarbone carefully. She slides her hand up, coming into contact with bare skin as she pushes her middle finger inside the cuff of the woman’s popped shirt. 
The dark haired woman plays with the collar for a moment before she begins moving once again. She drags her fingers around to Mapi’s back, stopping when she is standing in front of the Spaniard’s back, pressing both of her palms to the brunette’s back, fingers down. She slowly runs her hands down, into the small of the footballers back, before she shifts, moving them to caress her sides gently. 
She’s gone as soon as she arrived, however, continuing around the chair. Her hands travel over the Spaniard’s arm, down her side and around the underside of her chest before she splays it over the top of the brunette's abdomen. 
The muscle beneath her palm is rock hard, and she cannot help but let out a harsh breath at the feeling. She hopes that the footballer doesn’t notice, but when she looks up to see that Mapi is smirking back at her, she considers the effort fruitless. 
Ingrid’s hands retract from the Spaniard’s skin, and she shifts so that she can move her hips down and into the brunette’s lap, her back to Mapi’s front. It’s a bold first move, but she’s quick, in time with the song for just a tease before she’s gone, several steps away. 
Mapi is watching her with eagle eyes as Ingrid runs her hands up her own sides, squeezing at her own chest, letting her eyes flutter shut at the feeling for emphasis. It’s a little pornographic, and perhaps a little bit of a sell out, but she doesn’t care. 
The Norwegian makes sure to spend several moments just watching, teasing herself in whatever way possible, reveling in the way that the Spaniards eyes darken at the sight. Her nipples strain against the lace, hard and begging to be freed, but the dark haired woman ignores them in favor of returning to the footballer. 
The song changes to Lose Control by Teddy Swims, something more slow and sensual. Ingrid stalks back to the brunette, her intent clear when she places her hands on the woman’s knees, sliding them up her thighs before squeezing, lightly. 
The Norwegian moves her hands up the Spaniard’s side as she settles in her lap, her knees spread wide as she presses forward into the brunette’s personal space. She moves her hips slowly in an infinity pattern, sensual and enough to drive any man crazy. 
And yet still, Mapi has yet to touch her. Her arms remain listless at her sides, rather awkwardly. It’s a staunch change from the male clients she has often, who feel that they are allowed to touch, to take as much as they want. They consider the fact that Ingrid has been paid for, that they are allowed to do whatever they want to her, within reason. 
This doesn’t seem to be the case for this woman, however, and it only turns Ingrid on more. She leans forward even further, placing one hand on the woman’s shoulder while the other remains firmly planted on her side. Her lips are on the shell of the woman’s ear as she speaks, her voice low. 
“You can touch…you know,” the Norwegian drawls, her words breathy and filled with lust. She leaned back to look the footballer in the eyes, noting that her gaze was dark, the way her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. 
They held the others' gaze for a moment, neither moving until finally, finally Ingrid felt two hands carefully, respectfully placing themselves on her side, down toward her lower back. 
It was the Norwegian who moved them, removing her hands from the Spaniard to place hers over the brunette’s, sliding them lower, lower, lower, until they were resting firmly on her ass. Only then did Ingrid remove her own hands, planting them on the back of the chair as she rolled her hips down into the brunette. 
Mapi was staring at her intently, and she gently palmed at the Norwegian’s ass to test, rewarded greatly for her efforts when Ingrid arched into her, letting out a breathy noise. 
The dark haired woman’s body could only be described as fluid as she moved above the Spaniard, finally moving her leg to hook over the back of the chair, wrapping around the brunette’s back. 
Mapi slid her hands up, pulling Ingrid’s body more flush with hers. The Norwegian smiled, their faces just centimeters from one another. The Spaniard’s breath on hers was hot and insistent, her eyes roving over Ingrid’s face, finally eyeing the lace that covered the dark haired woman’s body. 
“You like it?” Ingrid purred, a smile evident in her voice as she gripped Mapi’s shoulders. The Spaniard scoffed lightly, looking back up at Ingrid. 
“You could say that,” the brunette hummed, her voice thick and low. It sent a shot of heat straight to the Norwegian’s core, and she arched even further into the smaller woman. 
Ingrid turned her head, brushing her nose against the Spanaird’s temple, her breathing shallow. 
“I don’t sleep with clients,” the Norwegian explained, and felt the shift immediately from the woman beneath her, the instant reaction to move away.
Ingrid had to give the footballer that, she was nothing if not respectful. It only made the Norwegian want her more, only made her flush further at the thought. 
It was her choice. 
Ingrid intercepts her hands, shoving them back down onto her ass before she brought her own to the brunette’s neck, pulling her in. 
“You didn’t let me finish,” the dark haired woman pouted, her lower lip jutting out slightly. Mapi reached forward, running her thumb over Ingrid’s lip slowly, softly. 
“Lo siento, princesa,” Mapi soothed, her expression willing Ingrid to continue. The Norwegian smiled gently, leaning down so that her lips hovered over the Spaniard’s throat. 
“I don’t sleep with clients, not unless I want to,” Ingrid continued, her hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Her fingertips trail up Mapi’s side, running over ridges of muscles and soft skin, dipping under her shirt before they retracted. Never direct, always teasing. 
“And trust me, I want to,” the Norwegian promised as she brought her face back to level with Mapi’s, her eyebrow quirked, almost daring the Spaniard to disagree. 
But the brunette would never do that, especially not when she has the most gorgeous woman she had ever laid eyes on sitting in her lap. 
They are left staring at one another for a few moments, their eyes flickering back and forth between the others eyes and lips, waiting to see who breaks first. A game of wills, a question of who is going to hold the power. 
It’s the Spaniard who snaps first, lunging forward to capture Ingrid’s lips in her own. She’s impatient, unable to resist having Ingrid in front of her looking so delectable, without doing anything about it. 
Mapi’s mouth is hot and insistent on her own, the brunette’s hands coming up to cradle Ingrid’s face as she kisses her senseless. 
It’s only a few moments later that the Spaniard presses her tongue into the Norwegian’s mouth, silently asking for entrance. The dark haired woman allows her access instantly, completely floored at the feeling of Mapi’s mouth on her own. 
The footballer swipes her tongue over the roof of Ingrid’s mouth, smiling into the kiss at the whine that slips past Ingrid’s lips at the feeling. 
The Norwegian’s head is dizzy, completely and utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of the Spaniard, of her hands being everywhere, of the press of her lips to Ingrid’s. It feels as though life is being breathed back into her, transformed into a fire that is sent straight to her core. 
She knows that she’s soaked the lace beneath her completely, but she can’t bring herself to care. Especially not when Mapi leans back, gesturing for her to stand. Ingrid is quick to comply, not bothering to try to make herself seem as cocky as she was pretending earlier. 
It’s been a long time since she’s been fucked properly, and something in this woman’s eyes tells her that the Spaniard is exactly what she needs. 
“Get on the bed,” Mapi instructs, and Ingrid is quick to comply, walking with purpose before laying back on the bed, sitting with her head up near the pillows, still clad only in her lace. 
The Spaniard stands from her spot on the chair, flipping the lock on her watch open as she sets it on the table in front of her. She pulled her shirt up from its spot having been tucked into her pants, looking over at the Norwegian as she undid the last few buttons. 
She laid the shirt down on the table, the picture of control and composure. The loss of the garment leaves her in only a black bra, which contrasts against the tan of her skin. She loses the belt she had on but elects to keep her pants on, instead moving toward the bed. 
Throughout this, the footballer had never let her eyes leave contact with Ingrid, not wanting to let the Norwegian out of her sight, even for a second. 
Ingrid lays back as Mapi joins her on the bed, crawling up the Norwegian’s body until she was positioned over the taller woman’s body, where she had wanted to be from the beginning. 
“You tell me to stop the minute you do not like something, si?” Mapi asked, her voice clear and leaving no room for argument. The Spaniard had no interest in making Ingrid do anything she did not want to. 
“Si,” the Norwegian parroted, squirming just slightly under the Spaniard, desperate for her to do something. 
Once she has confirmed Ingrid’s answer, the Spaniard is quick to begin her descent down the woman’s body. She captures the dark haired woman’s lips in a bruising kiss, applying just the right amount of pressure and tongue to have Ingrid gasping for more. 
She releases the Norwegian’s perfect, plump lips only in favor of working her mouth across Ingrid’s jaw, sucking and nipping lightly at the skin there. When she reaches the dark haired woman’s ear, she works her lips down and over the column of Ingrid’s throat. She pays close attention to the areas that make the taller woman let out a heavier breath, or the ghost of a whine, doubling down on her attention to those spots. 
She kisses over soft, pale skin, and down toward the soft flesh of her chest. Ingrid is arching into her before she even reaches her destination, desperate for more. 
“Can I–” Mapi removes her lips only to start a sentence that is never finished. 
“Yes, please, do anything to me,” Ingrid gasped, her entire body on fire at the thought of Mapi’s mouth over her chest, at the apex of her thighs. A flush is blooming on her chest as the Spaniard pulls the lace down, revealing Ingrid’s chest. 
Her nipples are peaked, aching to be touched and played with. The footballer doesn’t even bother with using her fingers first, simply leaning down to wrap her mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipples, her hand coming to cover the other. 
“Aye, María,” Ingrid hisses at the feeling, her whole back leaving the bed as she arches into Mapi’s mouth. Her hand has flown to the Spaniard’s head, her fingers tangling in the brunette’s hair and tugging lightly. 
Mapi doubles her attention at the feeling, swirling the tip of her nipple around her tongue, teasing her teeth over the sensitive area. Ingrid ate every lap of attention up, basking in it. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel so much, and it was turning her on in a way that was borderline painful. 
“Please, more,” the Norwegian begged once attention had been laved to both sides of her chest, and Mapi released her other nipple with a lewd pop sound. The footballer raised a brow at her, but Ingrid shook her head, her breaths shallow and desperate. 
The stripper is well aware of the irony, given her profession. She’s the one who is supposed to be pleasuring, not the other way around. But there was something about the way this woman composed herself, something about the reverence with which she touched the Norwegian that made her comfortable.
Mapi considers the request for a moment before she relents, pulling further at the lace, signaling that she wanted it off. The dark haired woman is quick to comply with her request, removing the hunter green fabric before she threw it to the ground, already forgotten. 
Ingrid lay back down on the bed, her hair splaying out against the pillow. The Spaniard watched her with hungry eyes, her lips turning up into a smirk. 
“So beautiful,” she murmured softly, her words filled with clear appreciation. “Espléndida, princesa,” Mapi whispered as she returned to Ingrid, softly holding the Norwegian’s face in her hands. Her lips were gentle against the taller woman this time, leaving the Norwegian with the feeling that she was delicate, and deserved to be treated as such. 
Oh, and what a different feeling it was to be touched by the Spaniard, as opposed to the heavy handed men she usually interacted with. 
To be touched and praised as though she was the most important thing in the world. No drug could compare, not to her anyways. 
Even as she trails down the Norwegian’s body, Mapi stops to press kisses into her skin, imbuing the fire of their interaction with a level of sweetness and ingenuity Ingrid had not been expecting. 
But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared the Norwegian for what the first run of the Spaniard’s tongue through her would feel like. 
She is unsure of where her voice ends and Mapi’s begins, but all she knows is that two moans are filling the room, both equally desperate. Ingrid clutched at the sheets desperately, her hands fisting the pristine white fabric beneath them as Mapi ran her tongue through her again. 
The Spaniard eats her out as though it will save her, with an intent and passion that Ingrid cannot remember ever having in the bedroom. She brings her tongue up to circle the Norwegian’s clit several times, and every time a new wave of pleasure washes over her. 
“You taste perfect,” Mapi mumbles against her heat, and Ingrid flushes completely at the praise, struggling to compose her own pleasure. She attempts to bring her hand up to cover her own mouth, something that Mapi notices instantly. 
“Aye, I want to hear you,” the Spaniard chides softly when she sees what Ingrid is doing, and the dark haired woman lets out a filthy moan as she removes her hand, at the feeling of Mapi’s finger teasing at her entrance. 
“Is this okay?” The footballer confirms, waiting for the fervent head nod that she receives from Ingrid before she finally dips her finger in at a painfully slow rate, before curling gently. 
Ingrid is writhing under her, letting a string of mewls and moans that tumble from her lips of their own accord. She doesn’t care that she had no idea if anyone can hear them, only focused on her own pleasure and the feeling of the brunette’s body near her own. 
“Si, si, si,” Ingrid begs, moaning unabashedly when Mapi adds a second finger, curling with more purpose this time. 
The footballer could admit, her plan had been to tease more than this. She was a playful woman, and enjoyed picking her partners apart before allowing them to come, usually. 
Something about this Norwegian, the flush in her chest and the noises slipping past her lips, has Mapi throwing her entire playbook out the window.
She’s more than happy to continue this, so long as Ingrid continues making those noises. 
“You like that, princesa?” Mapi asks, her voice hoarse with arousal. Ingrid nods tightly, her chest arching up as the Spaniard curls her fingers deep within her. 
The set of her jaw, the way it opened with pleasure left Mapi flooded with the need to please, so the Spaniard lowered her mouth down to Ingrid’s clit, sucking lightly. The dark haired woman cries out, her hips rutting down into Mapi as the footballer continued her brutal pace. 
“Fuck!” Ingrid wailed, her voice dripping with need as she hurtled toward orgasm. Her hips grew erratic, jumping into Mapi’s hand as her whole body squirmed. The brunette could tell that the dark haired woman was close, doubling down on her pace and intensity, intent on getting her there. 
It only took a few more curls of Mapi’s fingers from deep within the Norwegian for the taller woman to let out a sharp cry, her whole body tightening. The Spaniard couldn’t help but smirk against the dark haired woman’s core as her whole body began to shudder, her orgasm working through her like a forest fire. 
Her whole body was arched off the bed, the sheets gripped in her fists as Mapi worked her through her orgasm, her entire body shaking. She collapses against the sheets, her breath coming in quick gasps as waves of pleasure flooded her system, her eyes still screwed shut. 
It took her a few moments, but she forced her eyes open when Mapi removed her fingers from Ingrid. The green eyed woman looked up at the Spaniard, who had sat back on her heels, her own breath short and lustful. 
The brunette reached her finger up to her own face, brushing some of the arousal away from her lips with the pad of her thumb as Ingrid looked up at her. The Norwegian’s dark hair was a sharp contrast to the pillow, the flush of her chest and stomach the complete antithesis to her pale skin. 
Mapi would never see a sight prettier than this under her again, she knew that for certain. Ingrid turned her head, glancing over at the clock and realizing with a rush that they still had several hours before either of them had to go anywhere. 
When the Norwegian looks back up at the Spaniard, it’s with a smirk on her lips, one eyebrow raised, almost as though she was challenging the brunette. 
“Fuck, princesa,” Mapi swore before surging forward to claim Ingrid’s lips once more, pressing her back into the bed. 
Ingrid let herself moan out, half at the feeling of Mapi’s body above her own, and half of the self satisfied feeling of knowing that it was going to be hard to walk tomorrow. 
So yeah…maybe some rules are worth being broken every once in a while. 
304 notes · View notes
cosmicbucky · 5 months
Note
A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....
Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.
And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.
He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.
Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP
hi, lovely! 💫
first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!
second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.
i hope you enjoy!
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matches
pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader
word count: 3974
warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!
please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic
a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao
《《《《 ♡ 》》》》
Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible. 
You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through. 
Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt. 
You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice. 
You never knew. 
You never actually met him.
All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you. 
Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are. 
You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match. 
You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got. 
Until the day you finally met Bucky. 
It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself. 
You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in. 
It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up. 
You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time. 
All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room. 
By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right? 
A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong. 
Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person. 
"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips. 
"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you. 
His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it. 
"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand. 
"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."
You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."
"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours. 
"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.
"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?" 
"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.
"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."
You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so. 
So, you agreed. 
And that's how everything started. 
You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did. 
Only yourself. 
When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes. 
Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them. 
Except for when it came to Bucky. 
You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.
When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him. 
Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became. 
You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were. 
It was driving Bucky crazy.
From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you. 
He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss. 
Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips. 
He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive. 
The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party. 
He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.
You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was. 
With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear. 
Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner. 
You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence. 
“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him. 
A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him. 
“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened. 
You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing. 
“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine. 
“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?” 
He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face. 
“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you. 
You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again. 
“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen. 
“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss. 
“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction. 
“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.” 
You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.” 
“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”
“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short. 
“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-” 
“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”
“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”
“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again. 
“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”
“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. 
“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands. 
“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”
“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion. 
“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough. 
“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered. 
“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him. 
“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words. 
“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears. 
Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that." 
"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised. 
You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful." 
He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.
"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?" 
You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out. 
He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality." 
"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words. 
"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?" 
"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself. 
"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you. 
"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you." 
"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?" 
"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh. 
"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle. 
"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper. 
"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly. 
"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect." 
You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly. 
He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances." 
"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you. 
"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you. 
"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him. 
"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face. 
"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch. 
"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely. 
You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances." 
Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up. 
You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it. 
He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.
Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.
So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish. 
"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.  
You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?" 
He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully. 
"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.
"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you. 
You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes." 
"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor. 
And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure. 
You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.
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kisses4lao · 5 months
Text
Pov local Lin Kuei ninja gets FUCKED!!!! REAL NOT CLICK BAIT!!!!!
Bi Han x fem!reader LMAO (ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE!!!! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT AND IF YOU CONTINUE AND YOU GET UPSET THATS A YOU PROBLEM)
Tw/cw: arranged marriage!trope, fem!reader, praise, possibly ooc bi han, bi hans raging daddy issues, breeding kink, SLOW BURN!!!!!, mentions of blood and injuries, soft sex, piv, pwp, probably like really fucking long, bi han is really soft, simp bi han but not at first, unprotected sex, creampie, he eats pussy like his life depends on it, oh yeah cunnilingus, missionary, cursing
Not proofread eat my ass
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Growing up as Madam Bo's granddaughter had its perks, but it most definitely had strings attached.
You had practically gotten everything you wanted growing up, but at the expense that you had to marry the head ninja of the Lin Kuei, Bi Han. His father, the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei had made a deal with Madam Bo; if she gave you to him, she'd have the best of protection and his oath for the rest of her life. It was something she couldn't pass up on.
After she had practically sold you to the man she made sure you knew how to be a good wife. Knowing how to cook and clean being one of the main things she taught you. She knew you didn't want this, so she tried her hardest to make life for you better. She would buy you anything you wanted but nothing helped.
Once you and Bi Han were officially 18, you had gotten legally married. Luckily Madam Bo let you have some liberty in the ceremony to try and alleviate some stress. However, once the knowledge that you had just been legally bound with a man you had just met set in, absolutely nothing could make you feel better.
You had no idea what kind of man he was. Was he a rude man? Would he make you do things you weren't ready for? Walking down the aisle suddenly became a lot harder as you started to feel lightheaded. Finally getting to stand in front of him for the first time made you feel disgusting. How could your own grandmother do this to you? You practically have nothing ahead of you as far as life goes except for this.
You felt so betrayed you couldn't even look him in the eyes. Every time he tried to touch you you'd shutter and pull away. The party afterwards was a mess, too. You were sitting next to him as you'd poke at your food, not having enough energy to eat. Bi Han wouldn't eat either, he would just observe the room and make occasional glances at you.
His father was next to him, feeding him information about how to treat you, making sure to be loud enough that you would hear. "She's your wife now, she's expected to do everything you say. You don't have to treat her with respect, she's here to serve you." Bi Han let out an angry sigh every time he said something and wouldn't say a word.
"Look at her. She isn't even eating her food. She's ungrateful, you're just going to let her treat others like this? She should be taught a lesson." You could see Bi Han tense up at this, he had clenched has jaw and fists out of frustration from his father. "Maybe she's just not hungry. That isn't her fault, father. Leave her alone."
His father let out an angry scoff at Bi Hans response. "I give you a woman that other men would kill for and you just don't care? You're both ungrateful swines. Don't expect me to give you anything anymore." This statement didn't affect Bi Han, he just continued to sit with his arms crossed and eyes closed, waiting for this to end.
The party was finally over and Bi Han led you back to the house you two would be sharing from now on. The walk over was quiet with the only sound being the soft crunches of feet hitting the dirt and the sounds of the woods surrounding the two of you. As you arrived at a cottage just outside of the Lin Kuei temple, Bi Han would unlock the door and hold it open for you.
As you stepped in, everything had suddenly changed. It was such a beautiful cottage, it was made of stone and cherry blossom wood, it was decorated with crystals and cultural items that meant a lot to the Lin Kuei. "Father had gotten this custom made for you and me. Do you like it?" He suddenly turns to and looks at you with an expression unreadable. Eyes wide and seeking an answer you'd hopefully give him.
"It's amazing, not at all what I had expected from your father." You said with a chuckle. Bi han gives you a soft smile, "You haven't spoken at all today, I was getting worried. Hearing your voice for the first time really changed my perspective on our current situation. Although we have just met, we really should take things slow." He holds out his hand for you to take, leading you around the house so you'd know where everything is.
"Kuai Liang and I went shopping for clothing for you. It isn't much, but tomorrow I will make sure he takes you out so you can get more." He leads you into your shared bedroom, taking in how huge it was. He lets go of you so you can look around as he watches your every move, taking in that he was now married to you. His father really wasn't joking when he said other men would kill for you.
"I appreciate the thought a lot, Bi Han. You don't have to spend money on me anyway, I'll be fine with everything here." You say as you look through the wardrobe he selected for you. Not much? There's thousands of dollars worth of clothing in here! Is he insane?
"Father insists. He says that you should get more modest and feminine clothing, that you should be covered so other men don't think of you in perverted ways. Me, personally, I think he should shut the fuck up. He clearly doesn't know how to treat a woman." The last few sentences made your head snap you look at him, shock written all over your face.
He stood in the doorway as he let you take everything in, he was calm, a lot calmer than he was at the ceremony. "He isn't a good person, y/n. I seriously hope he stays away from us, everything he was saying earlier made me pissed beyond belief. No wonder he can't keep a woman, he treats them like objects. I won't let him treat you like that either."
As he stood waiting for your response, all you could do was just stare. He looked to the floor as he could sense your shock. Did he really just say all that?
"I think it's best we sleep in separate beds for a while. You can sleep in here, I'll take the couch." Before you could offer an actual bed to him, he had already left.
Months have passed in your marriage and yet he was still distant. He'd come home late and barely say a word to you, simply just humming in response to anything you say. He wouldn't sleep in the same bed as you either. He'd insist you weren't close enough yet.
You could tell he wasn't getting enough sleep on the couch, so you insisted, practically begged him to sleep in your room. Even after offering to sleep on the couch, he still wouldn't budge.
Bi han had told you he was going to be out for longer one night, he told you not to wait for him, that he'd make his own food. Something about a huge mission that was dangerous, it was what he was training for for the past few weeks.
Because of this, you couldn't sleep. Something told you to stay awake and wait for him. Would a good wife really just sleep in a time like this? With her husbands life in such risk? The thought of it kept you up as you paced back and forth for hours, just waiting for him to come through the door.
The clock had hit 3 AM by the time you heard the soft sound of the front door unlock. Snapping your head in the direction of the noise, you saw your husband walk through the door. Your tired, extremely disheveled haired, blood drenched uniformed husband.
"Bi Han! What happened? Are you hurt?" You ran to him, quickly looking over his unmasked face and his arms, examining the multiple bloody cuts that were exposed. He let out a sigh as he began to take his uniform off.
"Cmon, we're going to the bathroom, I have to bandage you up." You took his hand and led him to the bathroom in your shared room, closing the door behind you and guiding him to sit on the countertop.
You pulled out the first aid box and grabbed everything you needed: bandages, hydrogen peroxide, gauze, and sterile pads. Grabbing two towels, you dampened one with warm water and started cleaning the dried blood. "I really wish you were more careful. I don't like seeing you get this hurt." You say as you dampen the second cloth, putting peroxide on it.
You dab the open wounds on his face first, being careful not to hurt him too much. You then take his right arm, it had a huge slash on it, luckily not deep enough to need stitches but deep enough to cause issues if not cleaned. You held his arm over the sink and slowly started to pour the peroxide on it.
Bi Han would make soft grunts in pain as you would do this, having you lead up with "sorry," and "I know, I know," over and over. When you were finally done with the cleaning, you took a large sterile pad and draped it over his arm wound. Wrapping the gauze around it and tapping it, you put a small bandage around his nose and you were done.
You hopped off the counter and ran a warm bath for him, leading him to stand up so you could undress him. As you started to undress him, however, he lightly grabbed your wrist. "I can do this myself. Join me, would you?" He says that with a soft smile. You nodded and you began to strip your clothing as well. Once the water was done running, you added some nice cleansing soap so you'd be able to clean him better.
As you were crouched down and mixing the water till bubbly, Bi Han picked you up by the waist and plopped you in the bath tub. He followed in after you, and you started to clean his bloody arms with the soapy bubbles. He watched you do this and was seemingly pleased, as he didn't interrupt you at all. As you started to clean his neck and face, you moved into him more, but still couldn't reach him from your position.
Bi Han picked up on this, he grabbed you again and placed you on his lap, resting his hands on your waist. You and him have never been this close, you two havent even touched each other and here he is willingly putting you on waist as you were both in the bath tub.
You didn't mind it however, you just continued cleaning him. After a few minutes of gentle scrubbing, he was clean. You place both hands on his cheeks and rub small circles with your thumbs. He began to relax and you gave him a small smile. "I missed you. I'm glad you're okay."
Bi Han was a bit surprised at that and he returned the smile. He slowly leaned in and gave you a small kiss on the lips. This was the first time you've ever kissed, not even on your wedding day. But something about it felt so right. He departed from your lips but you stayed close to him. You decided to go back in for another one, this time he leaned into it.
It was a lot more passionate than you thought it would be, almost as if he was waiting to be able to do this. He moved one of his hands from your waist to the small of your back, pressing down slightly and making you lean in more. He slowly pulled away and leaned on the back of the tub, sliding his other hand up your back and resting just below your shoulder blades.
You rested your head in his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso, slowly drifting off to sleep. He watched you do so, mesmerized by how at peace you looked. He waited until you were fully asleep to take you out of the bath tub, he dressed you and tucked you into bed.
When you woke up in the morning, you felt something around your waist, something unfamiliar. You slowly turned around to see Bi Han, sleeping peacefully with his arms around you.
Ever since that day, Bi Han had grown a liking to you. Whenever he would be on missions he would bring back small trinkets for you, usually luxury jewelry of sorts. He would also open up to you more and insisted on sleeping in the same bed as you. You were more than happy to oblige and your days usually ended in your husband cuddling you to sleep.
With him changing as a man for you, you'd often get letters from Kuai and Tomas, thanking you for whatever you did to Bi Han. According to them, he was being a lot less strict and more understanding, and they couldn't be more grateful for you helping him.
One day, you had decided to make Bi Han a luxurious dinner. Filled with protein and a shit ton of carbs, everything a big boy needs. You had Tomas accompany you to town, so he could hold everything and for protection. He didn't mind, he liked you a lot and thought you were perfect for Bi Han. Tomas told you a lot about the food that's required to keep a healthy stature. With this information, you decided to make a seafood dinner. Lobster tail and scallops for the main course, mashed potatoes for a side, and I nice angel cake for a dessert.
If Tomas was being completely honest, he was even getting hungry as you picked out everything you needed. You decided to employ him for a bit of help in the kitchen, and as a reward you promised to save him some cake. With the addition of the last part, he was more than happy to help, cutting up the lobsters and peeling the potatoes for you. After a while though, he had to get back to work, bidding you a nice farewell before leaving.
When dinner was finally ready, you placed all the dishes on the table and plated him a bit of everything. You dimmed the lights and lit up some nice smelling candles and waited for Bi Han to walk through to door. A few minutes after you you got everything ready, you heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking and seeing your husband walk through.
His eyes widened at the surprise seeing you at the table that was lit with candles and had a fragrant dinner sitting on it. "Welcome home! You've been working so hard recently, I thought it would be nice for you to have a good dinner!" You pulled out his chair and watched him sit down. Taking his mask off, he picked up his chopsticks and ate some scallops, then some lobster, then some potatoes. You watched in anticipation for his reaction, wondering if he liked it or not.
He turned to you, a big smile forming on his face. "It's delicious, thank you so much." He stood up from his chair and wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your crown. You looked up at him, hugging him back and giving him a smile. He leans down, giving you a kiss on the lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in closer.
You moved your hands up to cup his face, deepening the kiss as he tightens his grip on you. He licks your bottom lip, asking for permission. You open your mouth and he starts to explore, to taste you. You had never kissed him like this, but he seemed so eager to know everything about you in this moment. He seemed to to need you in a way, and his grip tightened even more. He started to pull slightly on your clothing, as he began to breath heavily and groan into the kiss.
He pulls back, resting his forehead on yours. "Y/n... I need to tell you.." he was panting at this point, clawing at your clothing as his knees began to tremble. "I need you... Need you so bad... I've been in love with you ever since the first night you helped me.. I wanted to touch you so bad but, I was so scared.. scared you didn't like me like that.. let me treat you the way you deserve.. please you the way a husband should.. please, let me make love to you."
Bi Han was out of breath, clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him alive, and to a degree, you were. He had become so obsessed with you and he was finally admitting his feelings for you, who were you to deny him? You chuckle lightly as you kiss him back, a soft moan came from Bi Han as you started tracing your hands up and down his chest.
You decided you couldn't wait any longer, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Bi Han took this as a yes and carried you to your shared room, placing you on the new silk sheets he had just bought for you. Small giggles escape your breath as Bi Han began to trail kisses down your body. His hands traced up your thighs and clung to your night gown, slowly taking it off and leaving you in just a bra and panties.
He hooked your legs over his shoulders, pulling down your panties as he placed small kisses on your inner thighs. Once your panties were fully off, he dipped his middle and ring finger into your slit, gathering your juices. "So wet for me already. So beautiful, is this what I've been missing out on? I'll have to make up for lost time." He licked his fingers, a groan leaving his mouth from the taste.
He ran his tongue up your folds, sucking on your clit as he gripped your thighs so you'd stay in place. You began to moan loudly at his actions and started to grind yourself on his face, this made Bi Hans grip on you tighten. You could hear a muffled 'patience' as he continued what he was doing. He moved his mouth down more, prodding at your hole with his tongue. He slowly slipped his tongue in and brought his free hand to play with your clit.
You moaned loudly as his index finger and thumb began to lightly pinch and apply pressure to your clit. Bi Hans tongue continued to plunge itself deeper and deeper into you and he could feel you getting close.
With how you were whimpering and clenching around his tongue, it didn't surprise him when you harshly came without warning. A loud moan coming from you as your back arched and your head fell back. Bi Han licked up everything, not wasting a single drop of what you gave him. You had completely drenched his chin, fingers, and even parts of his neck, and he couldn't get enough of it.
After cleaning his face and fingers, he pulled away and started to undress himself. "As much as I'd love to continue doing that for the rest of the night, I think you deserve much more." He climbed onto the bed with just his boxers on, taking them off to show his hard, leaking cock.
He gripped your waist again, pulling you in and kissing you to try and soothe your anxieties. "I know you must be scared, I'll take it slow and easy." You could feel his cock prodding at your hole again, whining at the feeling. He slowly slips in and you both let out moans at the feeling. After a few minutes of moving slowly, he was finally in. After a few more minutes of waiting for you to adjust, you gave him the okay to move.
He began to rock in and out of you at a slow pace, kissing you while doing so. You began to soak up each others moans as he started to move faster. Bi Han moved to place kisses on you neck as he gripped you tighter. "You're doing amazing, taking me so well, I can't wait to do this every night when I come home." A promise he was going to most definitely keep.
You began to grip at his back, racking at it and making beads of blood appear under your fingers. He moaned at the feeling, increasing his pace because of it. "Bi han- too much, it's too much-" you moaned out, Bi Han kissed you lightly and placed his forehead to yours.
"You can take me, baby. I know you can, you're doing so well." You began to feel close again, digging your nails deeper into him because of it. His grip tightened even more on your waist, signaling he was getting close, too. "Shit- where do you want it?" He asked as he looked at you, breathing heavily.
"Inside-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you came for a second time, letting out another loud moan as Bi Han began to ride out his orgasm. You could hear him curse under his breath and a few moments after he came inside you, letting out a groan while doing so.
He collapsed on top of you and you both tried to catch your breath. He slowly got up and got a clean wash cloth, wiping down the both of you. "You did amazing, love. You were so good for me." He smiles as he discards the cloth somewhere in the room, climbing into bed with you.
You both exchanged a few light kisses before you drifted off to sleep. Bi Han had stayed up a bit though, cuddling closer into you as he watched you float off into a state of peace. He truly was besotted by you.
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A/N: I have to update my request guidelines ugh
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