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#the way her tone of voice is very very intentional
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Wedding bells
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Sanji x gardener!reader
This is an amazing request from @secretlife028
Warnings: from my gardener!reader series but can be read as a stand alone, fem reader in mind but no pronouns used, WCI spoilers? But very vague, angst to fluff, good ending
Word count: 1.3k
Summary: In which you say I love you to Sanji in the worst scenario
₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:・
You were in love with Sanji
That was something clear for everyone that had spent time with both of you. Your eyes following his mastered hands as he chopped the ingredients for dinner, the soft glances and sweet thank you’s you’ll grace the cook with whenever he offered you his delicious meals, your presence after midnight as he cleaned the kitchen a reminder of your unspoken love and affection.
You never thought about whether he would love you the same, the love you gave away was honest and non refundable. You loved because you wanted to
Something the cook was not used to, he was the kind of person to melt at any bit of attention, sign of affection or even acknowledgement, but he allowed himself to be loved by you
But that felt like a lifetime ago. Simpler times where you’ll wake up in the Going Merry, your crew mates laughter in the distance and the smell of fresh breakfast in the morning.
Now here you stand, in front of the man you had wrapped your heart in a bow for, leaving
“Why are you doing this?” You looked at Sanji who was just a feet away but felt like he had left already, his eyes wouldn’t meet yours
“That doesn’t concern you” your heart clenched once more at the stern voice leaving his mouth, that tender tone he once spoke to you with long gone, like a hazy memory
Vines grew on the cooks legs, like you were begging for him to stay and comeback to himself, holding him in place before you, breath shaky like you were about to break
“Sanji speak to me!” You were making this awfully difficult for him, he knew you’ll try and fight but didn’t expect you to be this fierce. Your voice echoed trough his thoughts like a haunting lullaby trying to wake him up from this awful nightmare
“There’s nothing left to say y/n” liar, Sanjis heart held so much unspoken feelings, words, intentions, so much love for you. You frantically took his hand in yours as you wrapped it around in blooming flowers grass and branches, like a grounding spell
“Stop this” you begged
“You’re the one that should stop”
“You want me to stop loving you Sanji?” His breath hitched, the air in his lungs trapped in his throat, he couldn’t have missheard you since you spoke loud and clear, unafraid and so certain. What once was difficult now felt impossible, of course you decided this was the time you’d let the L word roll out of your tongue, now that he couldn’t answer, that he couldn’t say a word of how he actually felt. His heartbeat accelerated in fear, he had dreamed of this moment of you before him saying this, but it didn’t quite went this way
“Because you know damn well I can’t” was the last thing you said before the blonde pulled away from your hold, loosing your balance at the force in his movement, breaking both of your hearts
“Too bad, because you have to… please stop”
So you stopped, standing silently as the love of your life left
You had never admitted this to anyone before, but as Nami held your sad trembling frame in a tight hug you couldn’t help but to say
“Why am I always left behind?” every single word spoken in a broken whisper, merely making it out of your parted lips, but Nami catches it and she can’t help but to wince, like she could feel the deep cut in your heart
“I promise you we’ll get him back”
And you did, but walking into a wedding wasn’t exactly how you expected this rescue would go
The lights jumping from the white garments fry your brain, the wedding bells making your ears bleed and your vision blurry with water that falls from your eyes. Why her? Why now? You knew there was a possibility for Sanji to not reciprocate your love, but reality just hits you now as you see him holding another woman’s hands in his, as he is about to make a promise that you wished accompanied your name after it. Thorns growing out of your frame like venom
But, you got him back
Not a word is exchanged between the two of you in the ride back to The Sunny, your minds busy replaying the mix of emotions you both had gone trough the last few days
Sanji cannot get your voice saying I love you out of his
Your mind flashing images of Sanji and Pudding at the altar
What was there to say after that?
“Thank you for saving me, flower” he whispers as he settles at your side, Nami’s eyes open like dishes as she listens quietly, praying to whatever god is out there that the blonde doesn’t screw things up more with you
“No problem” the icy tone and your numb expression makes him miss your sweet smile, warm laugh and twinkling eyes he was once graced with to see everyday
Another silence follows, a painful one. A silence that makes him realize what he had made you feel
But he’s lucky you’re the most understanding, kind and benevolent being that has walked this earth
His eyes lock in your fidgeting hands, flowers growing from the inside of your palms in anticipation. With the outmost delicacy, he breaks trough them and takes one of the flowers making you gasp, his skin against yours sending electric shocks around your body
He gets on one knee like the dramatic fool he is, the navigator face palming knowing this was to expect from her friend. You stay still
“I am sorry… I have hurt you, an unforgivable sin, I deserve whatever punishment you wish to bestow upon me” his words waiver, as if trying to formulate the best way to get his feelings across and make you come back to him, to open like a sunflower under the beaming sun
“However” your eyes travel to his, getting lost in the endless sea behind them, praying for him to say the magic 3 words
“I hope my confession suffices as an offer worthy of your forgiveness” he pauses as he places the flower in your waving hair, so tender like you were made out of the most precious porcelain that could break at his touch
“I love you y/n, and I hope your love for me remains in your heart… at least a little”
You stay quiet, the expectancy making poor Sanji’s heart to jump like a firecracker, breaths heavy with hope and nervousness. And you break, because how could you not? You knew everything that happened was not to blame on him, in fact, he was much of a victim as you were, if not even more tragic for his own past to come and haunt him down just after he had found a life he could enjoy. With another batch of tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you smile
A smile that melts Sanji like an ice cream on the hottest summer day, a smile he had prayed for to see at least once again, even if he wasn’t the reason behind it. Yet here you were smiling at him, for him, with him
You jump down to his arms, holding him tightly as your hearts dance in opposite directions of your ribcage’s, finally complete
“You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met” you say between half sobs half giggles, you pull away to look at him again “But you’re my idiot”
Usually Sanji would be nothing less than a gentleman and had asked you for permission, but today, he decides to indulge and just crash his lips into yours
Finally
Nami just rolls her eyes and Luffy laughs, content to finally see his dearest friends make up
Sanji’s finally home
₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:・
Had an absolute blast writing this hope you like it as much as I do, ty for the request
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suraemoon · 8 hours
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Could I please request jealous Rosie hcs or Rosie reaction when you are the initiate the first move hcs. Thank you 😊
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I’ll admit right now that the turn out time for this is embarrassing. You’ve caught me in…I think the most stressful week of 2024 so far buttt here we are. My deepest apologies. I’ll be better. Here’s some Rosie. 🌹
Jealousy, Jealousy:
Rosie is very protective of his girl but not overbearing. He knows how secure the relationship is and trusts you to make good decisions. But, of course he notices when another man is getting a little too friendly. When at public places, Rosie doesn’t usually get far enough away for stuff to like this to happen, but due to how drop dead gorgeous you are (the pretty smile that can brighten up anyone’s day, the sparkling eyes that resemble a steady pond, the million dollar legs that give Betty Grable a run for her money) the bold men stay bold. Laughing at things that aren’t meant to be jokes, getting a little too close, etc. He is the king of passive aggression and snark. It’s so obvious that he’s annoyed. Just by the tone of his voice, anyone with common sense can tell he isn’t amused.
An arm wrapped around your waist, interlocking fingers, a random kiss to the temple.
Increased use of the words “us” and “we”
Just plain out saying that you’re his ____ (girlfriend, fiancée, wife, etc)
He’s not subtle but that’s because he has no reason *to* be subtle. He’ll happily let the whole would know he’s yours and you’re his. He’ll redirect conversations, end them as soon as possible, whisk you away into the crowd.
The next day he casually comes across the same man while you’re at home, safe and absolutely clueless of the intersection. That talk isn’t pretty, I’ll tell you that. He’s a lawyer, he has a way with words. It’s direct, serious, and straight to the point. It’s in his job description to argue but it isn’t really an argument, due to the fact that the other man is left terrified of Rosie. Stood frozen in place, shocked. It’s like getting yelled at by a stern parent. Let’s just say…you never see that man again and if you do, he steers clear of your path like you’re a black cat on a halloween night.
A Feminine First Move:
Anon, you’ve got the thought of Rosie’s reaction to a girl making the first move stuck in my head and it’s so adorable. I’m thinking it happens when he first comes to Thorpe Abbotts and is so awkward and dorky. (Talking about flying planes in underwear, you know…the usual) His nickname is Rosie for more reasons then one, he has the prettiest blush. When you walk up to him offering a drink at the bar followed by a slow dance to the romantic jazz of the band, his cheeks are a shade of pink for the whole rest of the night. He’s taken back over how a girl as pretty as you can be so invested, so quick. Imagine his awkward conversation fillers; your siren eyes are so distracting, staring deep into his soul. You listen intently to every single word, a trait that’s appreciated but nervewracking at the same time. He stutters as he talks, trying not to bring up anything embarrassing that would bring it all to ruin.
He tries to keep up with your flirting by replying with some romantic remarks of his own. Soon he gets into the groove and you two have such a magnetic energy. It’s dazzling, it’s exciting, it’s everything. He really gets into his element once the surprise wears off. That doesn’t stop him from reverting back to his dorky, adorable self once you give him a kiss goodnight, your red lipstick on his pink cheek. He waits until your out of sight to dance his way to bed. You two dream of eachother that night. It’s the blossoming of something new, something special.
the dancing i’m talking about lol
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loviestyless · 1 day
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Whispered Temptation*
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Summary: Nova simply couldn’t help herself but test Harry’s patience, pushing him until the tension between them got too much. Just how she had planned. (rockstarry x oc)
Warnings: drugs, mean harry, smut, dom!harry, bratty sub, oral (m receiving), public sex, praise kink, slight exhibitionism
A rhythmic tapping of heels against concrete echoed backstage as Nova allowed the excited chatter of the crowd to wash over her while she awaited the cue to hit the stage. Nervous energy flooded her veins, making it almost impossible to stand still while she toyed with her outfit and messed up her curls. Bending over slightly to get a closer look in the mirror placed perfectly in her view, Nova found herself pushing her tits up in her shirt so more cleavage was on display and tidying up her red lipstick that had smeared slightly in her rush to leave her dressing room on time.
Five minutes until show time and Nova LaRoy felt fucking invincible. She didn't care she was merely the opening act, the crowd would be hanging off her every note just like they did each night without fail. They may have bought the ticket with the sole intention of seeing Harry Styles but they would leave this venue tonight seduced by Nova's talent.
The thought alone made a cocky smirk tug at the woman's lips. Everyone fucking loved her.
"That fucking bitch!" A deep voice rumbled in the distance, thundering footsteps hurrying with purpose in Nova's direction. The darkness dripping off his words should have made Nova nervous, knowing full well the type of anger this man could harbour, but instead, it simply made her snicker to herself as she continued to admire her reflection.
Crew members scurried about backstage, their actions turning into a fearful frenzy as they made themselves busy to avoid getting caught up in whatever was about to take place. Nova found herself suddenly alone, microphone in hand as the minutes until her cue ticked away.
Her bandmates had already taken to the stage, messing around with their instruments to pass the time until the curtain rose. Just the right amount of anxiety settled Nova's stomach, making her jittery and determined to put on the best show of her life. Her cherry red guitar was propped up on the stand by the stage, ready and waiting for her grand entrance and Nova found herself itching to stomp across the stage and strike the first chords for the screaming crowd to enjoy.
Suddenly the waft of cherry perfume flooded her senses as Harry's reflection appeared in the mirror behind her. His cheeks were flushed with fury, matching the fire in his eyes as he located the person to spark such emotion deep within him.
Judging by his appearance - black leather trousers left partially unbuttoned and the absence of a shirt - Harry had been in the middle of getting dressed into his stage outfit when he'd discovered what Nova had done.
"You!" Harry spat, dark eyes locking on Nova's honey brown as she spun to face him, not realising he was closer than she first thought. His tall frame towered over her, their bodies inches from touching. But she didn't shrink back like he wanted. Instead, she made herself stand taller, chin held high as a devilish smirk played at her painted pink lips.
"It's me..." She teased, acting oblivious to what was inspiring such rage within the man in front of her. His inked chest heaved with heavy breaths as he struggled to contain himself and Nova found herself forcing her gaze to remain on Harry's, not trailing down the expanse of his toned torso emphasised by the red hue of the stage lighting.
From the very first day she met Harry Styles, it had not been lost on her how attractive he was. He was effortlessly pretty in the way that only rugged rock stars could achieve and Nova often found herself wondering if she would have fallen for his natural charm if it wasn't for his huge ego. After mere hours on the road, the woman quickly discovered that there was a side to the famous rockstar that his fans were kept from seeing.
Everything had to go Harry's way and if it didn't, there would be hell to pay. Trashed dressing rooms and pathetic temper tantrums followed in Harry's wake and it became very clear that if the rockstar didn't like you, then you'd better stay out of his way. His snarky attitude and diva-like temper were fuel to Nova's sharp tongue and no matter how many times Harry expressed his dislike for her, she couldn't help herself but purposefully piss him off.
As one can imagine, it caused a lot of tension on the road.
"Give it back." His words were stern and dripping with authority. Harry was obviously under the impression that being the star of the show every night gave him the right to boss everyone around. Most people did as he said, knowing their lives would be easier to avoid upsetting him. But Nova was never one to do as she was told.
"No idea what you're talking about, honey." Sweetness oozed from her lips, the playful nickname only winding the rockstar up even more. His sharp jaw clenched, left hand moving to cup her chin tightly to keep her attention on him instead of the crew member that had appeared to try hurrying her onto the stage. Her band was watching from the stage, rolling their eyes when they realised that she was being held up by yet another petty argument with Harry fucking Styles.
"My coke. Give it now." A hint of desperation tainted his words, barely detectable but Nova could sense it as he demanded she give back what was stolen.
She knew he depended on bumping a few lines before his set, unable to battle his crippling stage fright without a little help. It wasn't as if she had planned to steal the drugs from his dressing room but the opportunity was right there for her to take when the door was left wide open with no one inside. Besides, if he didn't want someone to take something he was so reliant on, perhaps he shouldn't leave the white powder out on the coffee table for anyone to snatch.
"Oh!" Nova suddenly gasped, hand on her chest in mock realisation. "This is your coke. My bad."
Instantly, her fingers dipped into her bra and fished around for the little baggie of crushed bliss she'd placed there for safekeeping. As she did so, Nova didn't miss the way Harry's eyes drifted across her chest, lingering on her breasts in her low-cut top for longer than needed.
Heavy bass suddenly flooded through the speakers, causing a round of screams to ring out through the entire arena and forcing Harry to remove his grasp from Nova's jaw. She had around thirty seconds to go bounding onto stage or her band would be forced to improvise the opening song.
"Oops, that's my cue. Gotta go!"
"Don't you fucking dare?" Harry snarled, his fingers gripping Nova's wrist and tugging her harshly so she stumbled into his body. Their faces were mere inches apart as fury blazed in Harry's eyes, brows knitted together in a harsh frown.  "Give me the coke, sweetheart."
"Come get it, honey." Her voice oozed seduction as she pulled the top of her thong above her mini skirt slightly, stuffing the drugs between the cotton material and the heat of her skin, revelling in the swirl of emotions making the air grow thick between them. Harry's brows raised slightly, a little taken aback by her bold action and what it implied - especially considering she had never given him such implications in the past.
Taking her opportunity, Nova stepped back once again, this time able to grab her guitar and prepare herself to run out in front of the crowd before her band got too pissed off by her antics.
"You think that will stop me, sweetheart, you've got another thing coming," Harry smirked, no doubt a plan forming in his mind on how to get Nova back for this. "I always get what I want."
"Is that a promise?"
Blowing him a kiss, Nova sauntered onto the stage, ignoring the ache between her legs at the promise of what would be awaiting her when she got off stage.
.......
Cigarette perched between her lips, Nova found herself leaning against the side of her tour bus as the night air cooled her flushed cheeks.
Heavy rock music floated through the air, drifting from an open fire exit and serving as quiet background noise in the otherwise peaceful parking bay. The small walkway between her and Harry's tour bus offered enough privacy that she doubted anyone would be able to find her until she was ready to socialise again. Her bandmates were no doubt in the middle of sweaty mosh pits, enjoying Harry's show like they did every night while crew members were too busy sorting through endless piles of equipment ready to pack up the stage the moment Harry went back to his dressing room.
Having stepped offstage almost two hours ago, Nova found herself needing to unwind alone - the screaming crowd still ringing in her ears as she processed the insane night she'd had. Every time she took the stage it never truly hit her that she was finally living out the dream she'd been working so hard to achieve for years.
It all became a little overwhelming in the time between her set and hitting the road to the next venue and she found reflecting on her life while chain-smoking a pack of cigarettes was the best way to process everything.
Tonight, however, all that consumed Nova's mind were those dark green eyes glinting mischievously with lust as she made her way through the setlist.
As the final song of Nova's set rang through the arena, the singer could feel Harry's intense stare watching her every move and knew that she had to make this song count. Sweat glistened on her chest as the heat of the lights bore down on her and Nova found herself using it as an excuse to tug her top over her head so she was strutting about the stage in her black lace bra and leather mini skirt.
Sure, it was a little excessive but it was all part of her charm. And it most definitely caught Harry's attention judging by how she caught him sneakily trying to adjust himself in his pants as he watched on from the darkness of the side stage.
"I was in your wet dream
Driving in my car
Saw you at the side of the road
There's no one else around"
The atmosphere of the crowd was electric, singing at the top of their lungs as they recognised the lyrics from when Harry covered the song a few months prior. Her messy curls clung to her sweaty forehead, a taunting smirk tugging at her lips as she swayed her hips with every step across the stage. She forced herself to remain focused on performing rather than glancing over to assess whether Harry was still watching what she was doing.
"You're touching yourself, touching yourself
Touching your, touching yourself
Touching yourself"
As the lyrics left her painted lips, Nova slowly trailed her hand across her chest and squeezed her tits - earning screams from the crowd that made her smirk with confidence. The song continued with Nova feeding from the energy of the crowd, chuckling slightly at some of the signs people were holding up in the front row and waving to those she recognised from previous shows.
"You climb onto the bonnet
And you're licking the windscreen
I've never seen anything so obscene"
Her singing became lighter as she acted as if she was breathless, taking her opportunity to tease Harry by getting onto her knees, spreading them just wide enough so that her skirt rode up her thighs but didn't expose the material of her thong underneath. Leaning back slightly, she rocked her hips slowly as her honey-brown eyes locked onto Harry's darkened green. His amusement had disappeared, completely taken over by lust.
"It's enough to make a girl blush
It's enough, it's enough to make a girl blush"
Her fingers trailed down her sweaty body, tantalisingly slow while she teased the crowd and the rockstar side stage as she inched closer to the waistband of her skirt.
"It's enough, it's enough, it's enough, it's enough
It's enough, it's enough, it's enough, it's enough to make a girl blush"
Harry's eyes never left Nova's and suddenly everything faded around her as she focused solely on the gorgeous tattooed rockstar giving her his full attention. Her fingers grazed over the material where his coke was currently hidden in her thong, breathy moans tainting the lyrics drifting through her lips and Nova didn't fail to notice the flush dusting Harry's cheeks at her action.
Forcing herself to remove her seductive stare from Harry before she sparked rumours neither singer wanted to deal with in the morning, Nova returned her attention to finishing the song. Getting back up on her feet, Nova reigned back the sexual display she was putting on and returned to a level of professionalism required of her to do her job.
As the final notes of the song echoed through the arena, Nova dared one last glance side stage and found Harry had promptly left. Most people would assume this was so he could prepare himself for taking his place on the stage in half an hour.
But Nova knew he was biding his time until he could make her pay for her little performance.
"Did you enjoy yourself out there?" Harry's deep voice cut through the silence that now hung in the air. So engrossed in thought, Nova hadn't realised the music had stopped and distant chatter filtered through the streets as streams of people made their way home.
Leaning against the end of his tour bus, Harry's silhouette loomed in the walkway between the buses - the limited lighting casting intimidating shadows across his sharp features. Nova remained silent in Harry's presence, instead taking another drag from her cigarette as she awaited for the man to pester her for his coke. The absence of a smart remark was enough for the rockstar to continue taunting Nova, taking slow steps towards her in the darkness as he tried to earn a reaction.
"Acting like a slut for thousands of people to see." There was an edge to Harry's words and Nova had to refrain from smirking to herself when she picked up on it. As much as he tried to maintain his usual angry demeanour, it was obvious he was currently being fuelled by sexual frustration.
"You sound jealous." Nova purred, nonchalantly taking a final drag of her cigarette while she watched Harry slowly approach her. She flicked the butt of her cigarette onto the concrete, squashing it with the heel of her boot before speaking again. "Need some attention, honey?"
The rockstar's trademark cherry perfume flooded Nova's senses once more as his presence loomed over her. One minute he was a few metres away, the next his arm was leant against the tour bus, pinning Nova in place with his body mere centimetres from hers. His green eyes glinted mischievously as they locked on her honey brown, causing Nova's breath to hitch slightly in anticipation of what he might be planning.
"What I need is for you to return what you stole, sweetheart." His voice was rough from a mixture of lust and the strain from performing, sparking a wave of desire to roll through Nova and settling as a throb between her legs. His thumb came up to her mouth, lingering on her bottom lip as she pouted playfully. Opening her mouth, she allowed him to push it in further with the silent demand to suck. Nova wasn't one to do as she was told but she also wasn't one to pass up an opportunity to tease the sexy rockstar with his body pressed against hers.
A soft moan rumbled in the back of her throat as she set to work, ensuring Harry knew exactly what she could offer the moment she got on her knees for him.
The cold night air suddenly turned thick as Harry's eyes trailed down Nova's body, lingering momentarily on the miniskirt riding up her thighs and threatening to expose the thong keeping his drugs in her possession. Nova smirked as she noticed this and decided to get things moving - her core was aching and Harry wasn't moving fast enough for her liking.
"Like I said before, come and get it." She shrugged, her brows raised slightly as she dared Harry to follow through with what he was implying. "You know where it is."
Immediately, Harry's fingers ghosted down her stomach, toying with the waistband of her skirt while his lips attached themselves to her neck. Nova found herself relaxing under her attention, the tension that had been building all night finally starting to uncoil as the promise of release was on the horizon. Tangling her fingers in Harry's long curls, she tugged gently as he busied himself marking up the pale skin of her neck and was instantly rewarded with a soft groan.
Nova felt Harry's hand dip past the waistband of her skirt, teasing her cunt over the fabric of her thong and letting his fingertips graze the small bag of coke hidden close to her dripping sex. It took everything in her not to moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he was doing to her.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He breathed, finally stepping back after retrieving what was stolen. "You're fuckin' trouble."
The pair shared a soft chuckle in agreement, Harry's shaking hands desperately working to open the baggie to get the drugged-out bliss he was denied before his show. Right as he was about to tip a line out on the back of his hand, Nova snatched the bag out of his grasp.
"What the fuck-"
"Call yourself a fucking rockstar?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she tugged down the neckline of her top, exposing the lace bra Harry had been admiring hours prior. "You won't even snort coke off a pair of tits."
His eyes widened slightly at the realisation of what she was suggesting, curse words tumbling from his lips as he rushed to help her unclasp her bra. Her nipples hardened against the cool air the moment Harry relieved Nova of the lace garment, allowing her chest to be on full display. Being hidden between both tour buses while everyone else was still inside the area had its perks and luckily for Harry, it meant he could bury his face in a gorgeous pair of tits without being interrupted.
"Shittin' hell" He cursed, lustful gaze admiring the way Nova squeezed her tits slightly just to tease him. She wasn't stupid, she knew he was a man who was easily distracted by a woman with a nice rack - as had been demonstrated a few times tonight.
"Go on then," She purred, tipping a messy line of white power along her right breast, brown eyes watching Harry with anticipation. "Indulge yourself, honey."
"With fucking pleasure" Not needing to be told twice, Harry pressed his lips to Nova's in a lustful kiss before moving expertly south to snort the line without hesitation. Tipping his head back, he let out a loud groan that sent waves tingling through Nova's body. Not even bothering to wipe his nose, Harry allowed himself to indulge in more than just the coke, sucking at the sensitive skin of her chest with desire.
His free hand toyed with Nova's left breast, squeezing it softly and toying with her nipple all while he marked up her right with hickies that would last for days. Hot breath tickled her skin and Nova leaned her head back against the cool surface of the tour bus, whimpering with pleasure as she let Harry do what he wanted.
His hips pushed harder against Nova's body as he switched to suck her other breast and a quiet gasp filled the air as she felt his hard length on her thigh.
"Perfect, darlin'" He hummed quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "Perfect fuckin' tits, sweetheart. So sexy."
"That's all I'm good for?" She teased, curling her fingers in his hair and pulling him away to look her in the eye. Blown pupils, swollen lips and white powder dusting his nose made him look dazed - a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as pleasure filled all his senses.
"What's wrong? Happy to act like a whore but don't wanna be treated like one?" Harry immediately bit back, snaking his hand around her neck and squeezing slightly to keep her focused on him. Her smart mouth was pissing him off just like Nova had planned, all she needed was to push him a little more and she'd get the rough fucking she was after.
"I'll let you in on a little secret, darling." He whispered, bringing his face closer so their lips were practically brushing together. "Bad girls don't get fucked like princesses."
"Fuck-" She breathed out, the wetness collecting at her core practically dripping down her thighs at his words. As much as she hoped she appeared more composed than she felt, Nova just needed to feel relief. Her whole body was on fire and judging by the flush in Harry's cheeks and the bulge in his leather trousers, he too was feeling the tension.
"Give me back my coke and get on your fucking knees, baby." Harry's voice was sharp with authority and paired with the squeeze of his fingers on her neck, Nova knew the time for teasing was over. Silently, she obeyed. Harry shoved the coke into his back pocket and watched in slight disbelief as Nova sank to her knees and waited patiently for her next instruction.
"Good girl." He praised and a smile curled at Nova's lips. "Now put that mouth to work and suck my fucking cock."
"What's the magic word?" Her voice was playful despite the tight fist the rockstar had on her messy curls.
"Now."
Nova's fingers immediately tugged at the zipper of his trousers, her eyes locked on Harry's who watched her every move. She worked expertly to tug down his trouser just enough so that his cock would spring free from its confined, brows quirking upwards when she noticed he had been commando all night as if to ask: 'Really?'
All he did was shrug his shoulders in response, his chest heaving with anticipation as her delicate touch curled around his thick length. Adjusting her position slightly, the concrete dug into her knees as she let a string of spit drop onto Harry's tip, collecting it with her hand before slowly working his length to make sure he was fully ready for her mouth.
"Shit-" Harry's head tipped back with pleasure, small grunts filling the air as he tried to keep his composure. "Feels so good."
Taking this as the indication to go further, Nova took him into her mouth with a soft moan, revelling in the salty taste as she worked him slowly. Her hand covered what wouldn't fit in her mouth, making sure to give him her full attention.
"Nova. Fuck-" Harry's hips bucked forwards unexpectedly, causing her to gag at the feeling of his length hitting the back of her throat before she was ready. As soon as Harry noticed, he backed off a little with a small apology but Nova was unfazed.
Instead, she took it as a challenge. She willed her throat to relax and took him deeper into her mouth, making sure to swirl her tongue over his tip as she sucked to make him squirm. Gorgeous moans tumbled from Harry's open lips and Nova peered up at him through her lashes to see his eyes had fluttered closed and brows knitted together with pleasure.
The sight alone was enough to get Nova soaked and she found herself in desperate need of relief, something she wasn't currently getting from Harry. It was time to take matters into her own hands...literally. Taking advantage of Harry being too wrapped up in his pleasure, she trailed her free hand down past the waistband of her thong and began to tease her clit slowly.
Her rhythm never faltered on Harry's cock as she continued to toy with her clit, her soft moans only adding to the rockstar's pleasure. It was only when she pushed a finger past her folds that her attention slowly became focused on herself, something that Harry was quick to pick up on.
"Just can't help yourself, can you?" His voice was husky with lust as his fist tugged Nova's hair hard enough that she was pulled off his cock with a soft pop. A playful smile brightened her features all while she continued to work herself deeper towards the blissful waves of an orgasm crashing over her. "Always have to misbehave."
His rough hand snaked back around her neck, squeezing a little as he demanded she get back on her feet. Reluctantly, she did as she was told, the fire in his eyes persuading her to go along with his instructions so she could finally get the dick she'd been dreaming of for days.
Without warning, Harry had spun her around and had her pinned against the tour bus with his tall frame. Her bare tits were pressed against the cool surface of the bus, serving as a welcome relief to her burning skin as Harry's hot breath ghosted her neck. Dragging his tongue against her fevered skin, the rockstar nibbled and sucked his way upwards until his teeth tugged at her earlobe.
"Need me to teach you a lesson? Hmm." His tone was dripping with arrogance but Nova didn't care to bite back at this moment. For once she was going to keep quiet and let him take what he wanted. A small nod was all she gave him, unable to trust her voice from wavering the moment she opened her mouth but this earned her a sharp tug on her curls in reprimand.
"Use your words, sweetheart." He purred, rolling his hip against her ass to remind her of what she could have if she did as she was told. "Lord knows it's never been an issue before."
Harry's foot gently nudged Nova's legs further apart as his arm wrapped around her waist, waiting for verbal consent before touching her aching cunt.
"Please, Harry-" She whined desperately, pushing her hips backwards slightly in an attempt to get him to do something, anything, that would ease the ache between her legs. "Fuck me, please."
Harry's fingers slowly began to circle Nova's clit over the fabric of her thong while she spoke, his movements just slow enough to keep her on edge and drag this out for longer. He could tell she was holding back a little, perhaps unsure how far Harry wanted to take this, but he was determined to make her feel comfortable.
"You can do better than that, darling." He demanded, "Fuck, you're so wet."
"Harry, just fuck me. Teach me to be your good girl, please." Nova's breathless whines got Harry's cock throbbing with need, a bead of precum collecting at the tip as he pictured all the possible ways he could truly teach her a lesson. But they were outside where anyone could catch them at any moment. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd walked offstage but he did know that the crew would soon be wanting to hit the road for the next stop.
If he wanted to take his time with Nova, it would have to wait until he had a night in a hotel. For now, they'd just have to fuck out the tension between them and Harry was more than alright with a quickie after a night of so much teasing.
"Need to be quick, sweetheart. Don't wanna get caught." Harry panted, peppering lazy kisses against her skin as he took his thick length in his hand and began to drag his tip along her clothed cunt.
"Don't care, just need you inside me." But when Harry continued to tease her, she quickly added. "Please, honey."
"So polite." A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled her thong aside. Without hesitating, he entered Nova with a groan of pleasure, his mind completely overwhelmed by the feeling of her tight cunt taking him so well as his thick length stretched her out. "Fuck, baby. So fucking perfect."
His fingertips dug into Nova's hips as he slowly began to move, heavy breaths and pretty moans of pleasure rang through the air as Harry took control. It took all of Harry's strength to keep her right where he wanted, pinned tightly between his sweaty body and the cool surface of the bus as she squirmed with desire. As much as she knew they needed to be quick, she wanted Harry completely - she needed him to kiss her, to fuck her, to give all of himself to her. Their current position made it almost impossible for that to happen but she supposed that was what she'd asked for, to be taught how to behave.
As Harry had alluded to, bad girls don't get what they want.
"H-Harder, need more." Nova moaned and Harry growled in response. His hips snapped sharply upwards, causing his cock to brush against her g-spot as he fucked her as she demanded. But it still wasn't enough. She wanted to see him, to watch him fall into the depths of pleasure while he fucked her - this wasn't her.
Never had she been so needy, so desperate to be so close to someone during a quick hookup. Harry was different, she wasn't sure why but he was, even with such a horrible attitude.
"Harry-" She went to speak up, but it seemed as if he was feeling the same.
"I know, sweetheart." He nodded in understanding, pulling out quickly and allowing her to face him once more. "Wanna watch as you fall apart."
His strong arms gripped her thighs, helping her jump slightly so he could wrap her legs around his waist. Their mouths met in a heated kiss as Harry pushed her back against the bus once more - Nova's moans being swallowed by Harry as he made sure they wouldn't get caught. Nova's hand tangled itself in his curls, tugging hard enough to make his eyes close with satisfaction, the other wrapping around his cock to guide him back inside her.
From this new position, she immediately felt him hitting the perfect spot with every thrust.
"So deep." Her words were breathless, her mind going blurry as waves of pleasure began to build within her. "Needed you so bad."
"Oh yeah? Needed me to fuck you like the slut you are?" Harry taunted, sweaty forehead pressed against hers as he continued fucking her with a surprising amount of energy considering the long day he'd had. "Fuck you raw, fill you to the brim with my come?"
The sound of skin slapping and fevered moans filled the air as Harry picked up the pace, his rhythm never faltering as his lips attached themselves to the soft skin of her neck once again, making sure she was marked up just to his liking.
"Yeah, baby. I want it all. Need all of you." Everything was starting to become a little hazy as she succumbed to every feeling rolling through her body. Harry knew exactly how to please her and her body was responding accordingly. Her toes curled in her boots, eyes rolled shut and lips fell open as she felt the wave rising in her lower stomach.
"Look at you, such a good girl taking me so well." He praised, smirking as Nova let out a loud moan, tight cunt clenching around his cock with approval. "Can't wait to take my time with you, spread you out on my bed all night."
His hips began to falter, every thrust bringing the pair of them closer to release. Neither of them cared how loud they were being, whether any lingering fans could hear them from the other side of the arena walls.
"Harry." Nova's head fell back against the bus as she threatened to topple over the edge and Harry jerked his hips harder as he chased his own orgasm.
"Go on, baby. Let go f'me."
And with that, Nova's orgasm hit her instantly. Her hips bucked in time with Harry's as he helped her through the waves of pleasure that crashed over her, his own release following soon after as she clamped around him tightly. Thick come painted her insides as Harry rested his forehead against Nova's chest, both of them panting quietly as the night air stilled around them once more.
Minutes ticked by as they remained embraced in the shadowed privacy between the two buses, neither one of them wanting to separate.
"That was-" Nova started only to get cut off by Harry who seemed to share her thoughts. Realising it must be time for the crew to nearly make their way back out to the buses, Harry pulled out so both of them could tidy up their appearances to look presentable in front of anyone close by.
"Fuck, why didn't we do this sooner?"
Both of them chuckled lightly, Nova pulling her skirt back down against her thighs as Harry zipped his trousers back up. There was no awkwardness between them, their little escapade had only served to bring them closer together, all the tension between them now out of their systems.
"We could always go for round two." She suggested playfully, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck to peck a soft kiss on his lips. After being so close to his warm body, she found it hard to face the possibility of spending her night alone in her bed.
"My bus or yours?"
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quietblueriver · 3 days
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fingers crossed for your writing! prompt for you: mask
Hi!! Thank you so much for the prompt and the crossed fingers. Very happy to be writing Avatrice again. Here’s a short, soft thing and a play on both mask and masc that’s hopefully not too far off the mark. 💜💜💜
Ava leans against the doorway and watches as Beatrice stares at a black t-shirt that she assumes came from the basket of clean clothes beside the bed, lips pulled down at the corners, a few locks of newly shorn hair falling over her forehead with the angle. Ava wants to tuck it back, run her own thumbs over the buzzed sides in that way that makes Beatrice close her eyes and breathe a little deeper.
“Hey,” she says more quietly than she normally would, smiling gently as Bea’s attention snaps to her, body visibly tightening in the moment it takes for her to assess Ava’s threat level. Once a soldier and all that.
“Sorry to surprise you.” She sticks out a socked foot and wiggles it, thick pink and purple stripes on display. “Got a comfy assist with my stealth game. Camila was not joking with this yarn.”
The tension leaves Bea’s body as she lifts her left leg from where it hangs over the side of the bed to wiggle back with her own pair, a more muted blue and gray sticking out from the bottom of gray sweatpants. She doesn’t say anything, but she puts the shirt down and shifts on the bed, tucking socked feet criss-cross underneath her knees and creating a space that Ava fills happily, crossing her own legs so that their thighs are pressed together.
“You good?”
“Yes,” Beatrice offers quickly before she catches herself, shrugging a shoulder at Ava with a small smile. “Mostly,” she amends, and Ava indulges her earlier impulse and presses Bea’s hair back from her forehead before running her thumb over the clipped hair just above her ear. As she’d hoped, she gets fluttering eyes and a content sigh.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Brown eyes blink open and she runs a hand through her hair before turning her head to face the mirror that hangs from their closet door. Ava’s eyes follow, and they meet in the glass, Ava leaning over to rest her chin on Bea’s shoulder.
“‘Sup, handsome?” Her breath tickles Bea’s cheek and she rolls her eyes even as she smiles that smile she saves for Ava, a little bit of pink in her cheeks.
Her eyes drift and Ava presses a kiss to her cheek before settling back and giving her some space.
“I look like my uncle.”
Ava stops fiddling with their duvet, brings her eyes slowly back to Beatrice in the mirror. She’s waiting for her, lips turned up just slightly and eyes soft, and she dips her head a little to let Ava know it’s okay to keep looking, to keep checking.
And she does, eyes tracking the movement of Bea’s chest and the twitch of her toes where they’re pressed under her knee, a flash of soft blue wool.
“Jacob. His name was Jacob. He was…” The shift in her expression as she searches for the words she needs brings her lips to a pout, but her tone isn’t sad or angry when she finds what she’s looking for. “I wanted very badly to be like him, when I was small. He laughed a lot, and he was very smart but he didn’t…he didn’t use it to make me feel small. He was silly with me, in a very intentional way. Always sought me out and asked me questions and told me jokes that…well, you would have liked them.” Ava sticks her tongue out at her and Bea looks a little proud and a lot fond. “Exactly. I didn’t know what to do with that, but I liked it.” She pulls at the silver chain around her neck, the ghost of a prayer. “He died when I was eight. A car accident. I think…looking back on his funeral and the people who were there, I think maybe he was…like me.” Her jaw clenches, determined, and Ava loves her as she says, voice firm, “Gay. I think he was gay.”
Ava moves a hand to the small of Bea’s back, and Bea puts a hand on her knee, skin warm through the fabric of Ava’s leggings.
“It…as far as I know it was a surprise to my father. Uncle Jacob always brought dates to the big Christmas party and to all of the family events, beautiful women that were funny like he was and talked to me like they cared what I had to say but also like I was still a child, like I was only expected to be a child. One of them snuck me extra cake when my mother wasn’t looking, but when she winked at me, suddenly I couldn’t eat anything else.”
She’s blushing a little, and Ava presses her lips to the cotton covering her shoulder, smiling into it.
“Uh-huh.”
The blush deepens, and Ava smothers the rest of her grin against Bea, grasping and squeezing at her forearm to encourage her to keep talking.
She does, smile dimming a little as she says, “They were there at the service, those women, but so were a lot of other people I’d never seen before, all in a big group together.” Her fingers move against the fabric of her sweats, tug at her black tee, the twin to the one discarded a few minutes ago. “They were in the back of the line to greet us, at the wake, and my father was so…” Fingers run with agitation through already mussed hair. “He was so rude to them, Ava. Gritting his teeth and saying nothing when they offered condolences and shaking hands hard enough that he made people wince. I went to the bathroom and heard two of them talking about how it wasn’t any wonder ‘Jay’ lived like he did. I’d never heard anyone call him Jay before, and I didn’t know what they meant, but I knew better than to ask my parents.”
She swallows and Ava covers the hand on her knee with her own, quiet because she’s not sure if Bea is finished and she is trying her very best these days to give Bea the same space that Bea gives her to say what she wants to say. Even if it makes Ava squirm with the desire to comfort, to fill the silence.
“We left the wake as soon as we could without it being socially unacceptable to the people my parents cared about. My father was so angry on the ride home that my mom was afraid to talk to him, and…” The shaky breath makes Ava so fiercely protective that the halo starts humming under her skin. “After he pulled me into the car, I made myself as small as I could. He went into his study and slammed the door when we got home. They never talked about Uncle Jacob again. It was like he died twice.”
“Bea.” Her hand moves to rest between shoulder blades, presses in in comfort. “I’m so sorry.”
Beatrice smiles at her in the mirror before breaking their connection to turn and kiss her. The angle is a little awkward, their bodies having twisted over the course of the conversation, so she moves to fix it, adjusting so her knees are pressed to Bea’s thigh and making her hands at home on the sides of her neck. When Beatrice pulls back, she backs herself against the headboard and lifts an arm, and Ava’s chest is tight with affection as she moves into the space and settles, hand gripping the front of Bea’s shirt a little possessively. They’ve had this now for months, this bed and this apartment and this time together without world-ending bullshit, but she’s still not used to the luxury of it, of open, unapologetic affection, of Bea’s heartbeat steady under her ear, of time stretching out instead of bearing down.
“It surprised me, when I looked into the mirror and saw him.” Her voice is quieter like this, and Ava feels her words as she says them, cheek pressed against her chest. “In a good way.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” Fingers run through her hair and Ava lets her eyes close. “I wish I could have known him. I wish he could have known me.”
Ava nods against her. “Me too. He sounds way better than the rest of your family, not that that’s a high bar.” The words slip out thoughtlessly but she doesn’t want to retract them. They’re past pretending Ava wouldn’t halo blast Bea’s parents into the nearest body of water on sight and mostly past Bea feeling guilty for wanting her to. “I’m sorry you didn’t have him for longer.”
“Mmm.” It’s a little absent. A beat. “I used to be a nun.”
Ava opens her eyes at that, pushes up a little to raise an eyebrow at Beatrice.
“Oh yeah? I didn’t know.”
Beatrice pokes her in the ribs and she giggles as she settles back down.
“Yes, thank you.” Her voice softens, quiets. “I understand him. Or I think I do. Why Uncle Jay lived the way that he did.”
Ava splays her hand across Bea’s ribs.
“You used to be a nun.”
“Yes.” Lips touch her hairline. “I am glad that I’m not anymore.”
Ava presses her own lips against the body underneath her. “Me too.” She traces a pattern on Bea’s ribs. “I think he would be proud of you. Of who you are. Of how brave you are.”
Her body moves with Beatrice’s exhale. “I think he would have liked you.”
Ava pulls her chin up to rest against Bea’s sternum and grins her best roguish grin. “Well, I’m very charming.”
Her stomach swoops at the look Bea gives her, adoration undisguised and voice earnest. “Yes. You are. You’re wonderful.”
The kiss is short but sure, leaving Ava a little breathless. Affection thrums in her veins, and she pulls and pushes at Bea’s body until they’re reversed, Bea’s head pillowed on her chest and Ava’s fingers running through short hair, scratching at the nape of her neck. She runs her fingers under the silver chain and turns her head to watch their reflection. Bea’s eyes are closed, her breath slowing, and Ava takes the opportunity to look at her, sees for a moment Sister Beatrice as she was when Ava met her, ashamed and hiding so much of herself, desperately trying to be what everyone wanted and needed her to be.
Her heart breaks a little, for little Beatrice who became Sister Beatrice and for a man she never met. She blinks away the specters in the mirror and sees Bea again, soft and sleepy and brave, and presses a kiss of gratitude to her head.
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year
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The Incredible Hulk (1968) #246
#I actually really appreciate this guy’s consideration for why the Hulk distrust words#it’s been written in the past in a way that suggests that sometimes the Hulk finds processing information in words really difficult#to the point where it could be almost painful for him#and so even someone saying the right words to him wouldn’t help because that words are being spoken at all is overwhelming#and there could also be a sensory issue component to that#I think the novelization of the 2008 Hulk movie had a really interesting approach to this#where the was a scene where Betty was saying all of the right words to try to comfort and calm the Hulk down#which was followed up by the Hulk’s perspective where he could understand the tone of her voice and so her overall positive intention#but it was just so hard for him to focus to be able to actually make out what she was saying and the meaning of the words#which ties into that take on the Hulk as being this panicked response that really isn’t built for anything outside of that context#but it’s also notable how portrayals of the Hulk that are more verbal have him as this very straightforward character#he doesn’t lie or deceive people and he’s blunt in a socially unaware way where he’s actually often pretty rude#and you will have these scenes where the Hulk is just like stop I don’t want to fight#and the people attacking him are like ahh it’s a monster as though they can’t hear him#part of the tragedy of this character is that he’s not always great at communicating but when he is it doesn’t matter#so I like the idea that words are also not an ideal way to communicate with the Hulk because while he’s able to be direct#he doesn’t really have the skills to navigate that other people aren’t always blunt and truthful like he is#what I like about this character is these kinds of divisions#he’s got lots of problems and having issues with verbal communication is just one of them but then there’s lots of ways to play that issue#and they’re not necessarily contradictory and so can be played together#marvel#bruce banner#my posts#comic panels
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addelaidesupreme · 2 months
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I'm watching a video essay about a game ive been interested in playing. The creator of the video, who has crossdressed multiple times, makes a "women arent funny" joke, and i suddenly realize ive never witnessed him acknowledge a woman in an uplifting way before.
I'm on a dating app for lgbt+ people. I've stated multiple times on my profile that i would rather lose an arm than recieve nudes without consent. I will be sent five dick pics for every 2 people i talk to that night.
I'm talking with my dad, who informs me he's been trying his best to learn about trans issues. He says the same things steven crowder brings up when trying to ridicule trans people. I gently but firmly correct my father and get told that ive been fed propaganda.
I'm on instagram, under the comments of a post ridiculing someone for being a misogynyst. Someone's left a comment saying "it must be hard being a woman on the internet" and i respond "it is." I will have every aspect of my appearance scrutinized as a reminder that no matter how well i pass, it will never be enough for someone with bad intentions.
I'm back on that dating app for lgbt+ people. I'm messaged by an attractive looking person, but i can see their partner prominently displayed in all but their main photo, oftentimes striking what im sure they thought was a very intimidating pose. Their bio says "looking for a third for our anniversary." I know that even if I did feel up to it, the gruff partner wouldnt approve of me because i don't pass.
I'm at a job interview for a clothing store. I tell the gracefully-dressed woman interviewing me that ever since i began my transition, i've discovered an interest in fashion, and that this job would allow me to dip my toes into the industry in a safe way. I'm told that i've reduced womanhood to a stereotype, and i can tell by her tone that i lost any chance at the job the minute she realized i was trans.
I'm at the same hospital i got facial feminization surgery in, trying to figure out what's wrong with my bowels. When the person behind the desk gives me a wristband with my patient info on it, i notice a single, lonely, letter M. I ask a nurse in private why it would say that despite me having changed it nearly a year prior. They say they have no clue, and bring in paperwork for me to fill out and have it re-changed again.
I'm living with my mom at the time. I'm new to transitioning, and decide to try my hand at voice training. It feels a bit off, but otherwise im feeling neutral toward the whole thing. I try speaking in this new voice to my mom and she laughs. Now, when people ask if i intend to voice train, i find speaking at all difficult for minutes after.
I didnt have some sort of grand message to convey by this. I just had a thought and then that thought spiralled into whatever the hell this became. Some, okay most, might call it complaining; they are right to do so.
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.
Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3
When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.
It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.
Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.
Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.
A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.
You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.
Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.
~
“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.
“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.
“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.
“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.
They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.
“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.
“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.
You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.
You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.
They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.
You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.
“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?
“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.
“OW!”
~
Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?
The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.
Well, unless you were there.
“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.
“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.
“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.
“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.
Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.
For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.
There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.
“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.
“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.
“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.
“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.
Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.
There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.
He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.
It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.
~
“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.
“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.
Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.
“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”
“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.
You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.
“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.
“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”
“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.
“Please,” he mutters.
“What was that?”
“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.
“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.
“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.
“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.
“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.
In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.
With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.
And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.
“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask
“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.
“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.
“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.
“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.
“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.
~
It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.
Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.
Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.
“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.
She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.
“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.
“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”
You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.
“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.
“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.
And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.
~
People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.
It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.
“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.
“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.
“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”
Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.
Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.
“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”
~
“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.
“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.
Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.
“What makes you think so?”
“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.
“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.
Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.
“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.
“We’re actually married.”
The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.
Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3
Part two out now!! Read it here.
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screampied · 27 days
Note
if requests are open, can we see nanami x breeding kink? i know he would be the perfect daddy 💕
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 husband nanami finding out he has a breeding kink.
warnings. fem! reader, mating press, breeding kink, praise, soft dom nanami, mdni.
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breeding.
he wouldn’t even know he had such a kink until afterwards, finishing inside of you for about the third time with hot puffs of air running from his lips.
his eyes, dark brown pools that intently stared into yours, he’s in utter love with you and only you. your current position was supine—your legs would be perfectly sprawled and spread for him. mating press, such a deep and thorough angle. so deep to where you were practically seeing stars.
“… you drive me crazy, you know that?” he’d huff out lowly between rough breaths. you stare at him with glossy eyes, a hand softly clinging onto his wrist. he was always so gentle, deep yet precise strokes to make you feel every inch. such eyebrows of his curl up and furrow as he intakes a single sharp breath, the feeling of such thick ropes spewing inside your walls makes him groan. “always s—so good at milking me.”
sloppy hips thwack and drill into you, and that’s when he leans right up close to you—you’re met with lust filled fawn eyes and a needy smile.
“ah. eyes up here, wanna see that pretty face,” and his tempo was so unhinged. you glance up at him and he mutters off a soft, “hi my love,” and you could have just melted right there. nanami lightly presses a hand against your tummy, a thumb swiftly tracing near the exact spot where he was reaching you inside. so full, you moan before he leans in to kiss you, yet instead, he conceals his own whine into the crook of your neck. “this—tummy would look so pretty if it was nice ‘n round for me like last time.”
the very corners of your lips tugs, it outlines into a sweet pout before you whimper, “make me fuller then, kento,” you’d heave out. he was jackhammering such merciless yet tenderly passionate thrusts into your cunt, effortlessly smacking back against you. “wanna f-feel fuller.”
you had the white bed sheets bawl into the palms of your hands. everything felt so warm, his hips just continued to rotate and jerk and jerk and jerk. it was hypnotic, he knew just where to prod the head of his cock right against you.
you’re nearly drooling. just imagining such lengthy ropes of his pump you full. you wanted it, no—you needed it. desperately, you were practically being fucked into the mattress—the mattress in question creaked and sang in such harmony it was hard not to ignore its sounds.
the entire feeling, you were clamping down on him so tight that his jaw tenses. a simple sight like that was oh so sexy in the slightest, nanami lightly bites down on his lip. a cute flushed expression slowly painting over his face once he catches you still staring. he was chasing his own breath, giving you slow yet perfect full vivacious thrusts.
“k-kento,” you’d moan with a slight gasp, he brings a hand to slide your arms all the way up. it’s almost teasing, the way he makes you hold your hands high, a soft simper rests against his lips the entire time. your legs quaver, feeling how easy it was for him to stretch you out. his touch, it was blisteringly hot, blisteringly tender.
he made sure to delicately trace his fingers all over your skin. he wouldn’t dare miss a spot. not with a body as perfect as yours. that’s what he saw in his eyes anyway. “so—so goooood, don’t s-stop baby.”
“wasn’t gonna,” he huffs out, and his voice was so raspy and rich. a subtle coarse of baritone hidden underneath his deep tone. you peer up at him and he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. “if my princess wants to feel more full, i’ll do just that. give her anything she wants.”
you whimper, feeling him hit such a sensitive angle, he hit it just right too.
the crown of his dick made its way through every crevice of your walls. he reached in spots that you didn’t think he’d reach — not at all, you failed to hide your moans by this point and he thought you sounded so cute. knowing he was the one to make you sound like this, feel this way, it made him happy. that’s all he wanted, your pleasure was his pleasure.
every. single. spot.
whilst your toes curled, you feel your back start to seemingly arch on its own before even more sweetened whimpers fly past your sheeny lips. “give m-me,” you started to speak. he raises a brow marginally, brushing a thumb against your lower lip before feeling himself about to bottom out. at that point, he was fully inside, you felt it and you only mewled out a candied, “give me another baby kento. please.”
“oh,” he softly murmurs, and his tongue playfully licks against your neck—a sweet lap, he savored your taste before teasingly starting to nibble.
“gonna give you triplets this time,” and he brings a hand down your chest, then towards your stomach, real slow. you moan once he gingerly lifts up your leg before giving your ankle a kiss. “this what you want, sweetheart? more of this? more of … me?”
“yes,” you pout, feeling your cunt just swallowing his hefty shack, his base smacks back and forth against you to where you’re almost giddy. you felt like you were on cloud nine, nanami’s strokes, his thrusts hell, his enticing rhythm had you nearly speechless. you let off a soft meek once the shivering cold metal of his watch band slithers against your skin.
the more he touched you, the more close you became to making yet another mess on him. of course, like the good husband he was, nanami would happily clean you up.
“y-yes, kento,” you repeat in a honeyed voice, by this point, your legs were well wrapped around his waist. fully having him in a secure lock, not ever thinking to let go, you couldn’t nor did you want to. he drove into your gummy walls so good that you let off the sugared most melodic moans right up against his earlobe. “want…..another baby.”
“i know you do,” he hushes, bringing a chaste kiss towards your collarbone. you swallow a thick imaginary lump that grew into your throat. only tiny squeaks would come out — you moaned, tightening your legs hold around him before you started to picture such fanciful things.
fanciful things like nanami pouring yet another a thick load into you, and as you’re deep in thought he’s doing just that. a gasp gets caught in his lips before he leans up close to you. his broad chest presses up against you before he groans. out of all the notorious enemies he’s had to fight, he was simply no match for your pussy. its grip had him being the one with his eyes nearly rolling back.
“f-fuck,” and you felt yourself throb, making direct eye contact with him. it was rare, yet hearing nanami swear was so infrequent.
it was the way he swore, spewing out such filthy words underneath his breath. long ruffled strands of messy hair nearly occluding his view of vision. he reaches to move some of his hair away from his face, just so he could get a good glimpse of you—a good glimpse of his wife.
“look at me,” he says in a soft tone, he was buried so deep within you, you saw how his muscles tensed and his jaw tightened. he made his hips come to a halt completely before he leans in to gift you with another kiss. “mwah,” he smooches near your jawline, “mwah,” near your chin, and a final kiss near your lips.
your heart, it fluttered.
nanami felt warm all over his body, as well as the sheer warmth that coated him from being inside you. “i—i love you,” you’d whine, feeling such massive velvet ropes of cum going all inside of you. he merely lets off a purr at the way the back of your heel skims down his back. “so much.”
“i love you,” he returns it. his mouth briefly opens, and he was about to say ‘more’ but he pauses. nanami’s weight was still hovering over you before he brings a same big hand down towards your tummy. “now, we wait. you’re such a good mommy for me, sweetheart.”
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sanjisblackasswife · 2 months
Note
Can u pleaseeee do a part 2 to the nanami cam girl fanfiction 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽
Part 1 Of Nanami x Cam!Girl Reader Here
Blk!Fem Reader in Mind
CW: Pervert Nanami, Nanami with a voice kink, Idk. Smut fr w some plot.
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“Sssshit, yes baby….” Nanami’s voice growled from the back of his throat, his legs beginning to rise as his body tenses for a moment. His groans echoed through his empty apartment, only thing luminating his room was the lights of the city and his phone in his hand.
He threw his head back to land on the headboard, mind feeling a little fuzzy. This orgasm definitely drained him way more than any this week.
Maybe because this particular video he was using to get off was his and only for him.
“I um…i hope that was good for you Mr. Nanami.” She spoke breathlessly holding up the camera above her face as she laid on the fluffy pillows on her bed, eyes were dilated, cheeks flushed despite her skin tone, strands of hair on her forehead. She must have overworked herself this time. She did cum more than usual, as requested of him. “I never came that much, I almost feel embarrassed i couldn’t last as long as I should of.”
“You did amazing, sweetheart.” Nanami thought as she began to ramble a bit….per requested. Her voice was almost the equivalent to an angel through his ears. So soft, feminine and gentle.
Almost the polar opposite of her whiney, loud, slutty voice when she moans his name.
“I never gotten a um…private suggestion and you’ve been…so sweet with your donations I actually was able to get a new camera for it so of course I had to show you!”
“I noticed.” He thought, a faint smirk arising on his face.
“As promised though please do not share this video or post on any other platforms. Please.”
Nanami clicked off the video to give a long sign of relief. Her voice was too cute;
“Please.”
His thoughts still going a mile a minute, “Maybe next time she can beg to cum for me.”
Shaking his head to clear some of his perverted ideas he got up to take a quick shower and put on some new sheets. He actually tired himself out tonight, but he still couldn’t completely fall asleep.
He was tired yes, but everytime he shut his eyes they fluttered back up.
Tossing and turning on his bed he reached for his phone again, maybe another rewatch?
The shame nanami felt watching the streamer was now completely gone, he only watched her anyways and something about her voice always helped him not only get off, but fall asleep.
He remembers hearing a very….perverted conversation with Geto and Gojo about listening to sexual audios when they are too sleepy to watch a video, but too awake to fall asleep.
…It was 7am and honestly Nanami tried to ignore it, but Gojo was so damn loud.
With a moment before reconsidering he reached for his airpods and phone off the dresser again and scrolled through her videos.
This one. This video where she first moaned his first name was soothing
….to him.
Laying on his back, gently allowing the weight of his lids to fall shut he turned up the volume of his phone and just listened to her.
He replayed the video so much he almost can invision what she was doing in the exact moment she was speaking.
Nanami had no intention to touch himself again, just to simply hear her, but how naive of him to think he can listen to the wet sounds of her cunt and her soft moans and NOT have a body reaction.
He felt himself get hard, palming his shaft he rubbed it through his boxers, face getting red from the lewd thoughts he imagined from the video.
Nanami invisioned him on top of her, throwing her pretty thick leg on his shoulder, kissing her ankle to distract her from the full feeling of his tip and a few inches of shaft pushing its way inside her. When she moaned Nanami’s name he imagined that’s exactly how she’d sound the moment he bottomed out.
Without noticing his hand was down his boxers moving his fist at the same pace she was fingering herself.
Nanami wasn’t the type to make A LOT of noise when hes self pleasuring. He’s more vocal when with a woman, but his thoughts almost felt like reality he started to speak to himself as if she was there.
“Goooood good girl, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me…yesss fuck—-so good taking me in like this….”
He never really got off to just audio before, but somehow with his eyes shut he felt more sensitive and it wasn’t long until he felt close again, but he tried to hold on until til she was as well.
“C’mon baby…just like that cum with me. Yes fuck—-“
It probably would seem embarrassing to see such a big strong man whimpering in his bed alone at the thought of fucking a girl he doesn’t even know, but fuck it he did not care. It felt too good to him
It wasn’t too long until he made another mess. Sucking his teeth he just grumbled to himself knowing he needs to grab a towel, but before he does that, he moves over the table in his phone and clicks “New Message”.
While still coming down from his high, Nanami sends another $200 donation and private message to the pretty streamer stating;
“How much would it be for a private phone call?”
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lxkeee · 3 months
Text
END GAME
PART ONE
pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fluff
warnings: no warnings yet.
notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)
additional notes: this is a long one.
Part two |
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[y/n] stood in the podium, her hands bound by golden chains. She looked at the higher angels who sat on the high chairs of the courtroom, her [e/c] eyes stared at them with boredom. She never liked being in heaven, so many rules to the point she couldn't breathe. She was created a few years after the infamous Lucifer fell from grace, she admired him. She has heard his cause and mentally agreed to his beliefs—she couldn't say it out loud as the higher beings would punish her. She was a good angel, always a rule follower and a good role model, then she suffered from burnt out, repeating the same thing everyday—waking up, praying, doing good, following the rules.
She started questioning their ways and now, the time has come for it to bite her back as she finally faces a trial. [Y/n] what happened the majority of her trial, she remembers doing a couple of nods in agreement and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever Adam said something stupid. She couldn't take whatever bullshit Sera was yapping about and decided to cut her off, “Enough about all these rules, just admit that us angels are egomaniacs, always hungry for control. Heck, Lucifer was right with his intentions but you guys saw it as an act of disobedience. You didn't like what he was doing since it didn't follow what you guys wanted him to do.” She said coldly, her tone making the whole room tense and cold, “he thought it was unfair to the humans to follow whatever heaven's command is without question and hesitation. But Lucifer gave them freedom,” [y/n] pauses, glaring at the higher beings, eyebrows furrowed and her eyes staring at their very soul, “Heaven is fake, you put on a show for everyone, pretending that everything is fine and this is a fun place filled with peace and we all know you guys want them to blindly follow your rules.”
“Do not ever speak his name or do you want to follow where he is?” Sera asked loudly, her voice commanding and echoing off the walls of the court but her message just made the angel in trial smirk, “Oh...? Frankly speaking, I think hell seems to be a better and more fun place than heaven. I could do whatever the fuck I want.” [y/n] says with a smirk, heart thumping loudly for the first curse word she had said. This made Sera more angry, “Then, so be it.” Sera sneers.
Falling... So this is what Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. Lucifer was lucky as heaven wasn't this harsh before, [y/n] closes her eyes as she felt the stinging pain of the wind caressing her back, golden ichor flowing from where her wings should be, but despite the pain, a grin was plastered on her face as she embraced the imminent pain she'll receive once she hits the burning ground of hell. Despite the extreme pain she felt on her back, the missing part of her that heaven decided to take—she felt free, shimmering tears cascades down her cheeks as she cried for her acquired freedom while simultaneously mourning for the loss of her wings. Her weak body passing by many, many clouds, passing by the crust of the earth and soon she could see the fiery red skies of hell, she can only wait for the impact.
She could hear the sound of something breaking and cracking, the loud ringing on her ears before her world turned dark. Falling from grace isn't enough to kill her.
Lucifer's usual schedule usually consists of him wallowing in self pity inside his room, making rubber ducks, or having an existential crisis in his balcony. Lucifer just so happens to be on his balcony that day, talking to his newly created rubber duck that looks like his daughter when his eyes noticed the dark red clouds of hell parting and a figure falling at extreme speeds, at first he thought it was another soul who ended up in hell but his eyes widened to see occasional gold shimmering on the figure. “What...” Lucifer murmurs in confusion, his eyes following the figure and what the...? It's about to land in his front yard.
Only his eyes widened in fear as the figure crashed and golden ichor splattered everywhere. The realization damned upon him that another angel has fallen from grace.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucifer never cursed so much as he jumped off the balcony, three pairs of wings springing out of his back as he quickly flew next to the crash site. “I swear to me if this person died,” this wouldn't be the first time someone died in his front yard but it would be the first time an angel would, but can an angel even die from this impact?
He quickly checked the fallen angel, identified that it's a female. She looked like such a mess, golden ichor splattered everywhere, messy hair from falling, eye bags, and passed out but despite all that, he found her to be very beautiful, “I swear to me, this isn't the time Lucifer.” he muttered to himself as he began to work and make sure this woman is treated properly. What made the king of hell freeze was when he used his power to lift her up gently, he noticed that so much blood was gushing out of her back where the bone that should connect to her wings. He just realized why this angel crashed, she couldn't fly. She doesn't have her wings anymore and that realization filled his heart with anger.
He stared at her broken form lying on the bed of the spare guest room of the castle, he couldn't fully heal her. There's a limit to how much his angelic powers could do, it can't reverse the damage heaven themselves have done to her. Thankfully, he managed to fix all broken bones and close the wounds she had received but he can't fix the trauma she'll receive from this. Believe him, he tried (with himself).
His hand caressed away the hair that was falling on her face, finally taking a good look on her. She looked more beautiful without those wounds, she looked better without the stress—a contrast to the first time he's seen her. Warmth flooding his cheeks, he doesn't even realize that the red of his cheeks has become significantly darker.
“Ah, Lucifer stop. You don't even know this woman,” Lucifer mutters in annoyance as he squeezes his own cheeks to stop the warmth before eventually leaving the guest room to continue his usual routine.
He's starting to get worried, the fallen angel that currently resides in his guest room still hasn't woken up. It's been eight days. He spent the entire week checking up on her and continuing to treat her, he admits that this unknown angel's presence did good to his mental health as he was busy worrying for her that he forgets to listen to his intrusive thoughts. “What am I going to do with you?” Lucifer mutters softly as he places his hands above her, hovering over her body as golden hue begins to glow. Slowly and surely healing her.
Aching pain in her muscles is what she felt, slowly regaining consciousness. [Y/n] woke up in an unfamiliar room, oddly reminds her of the rooms that only royalty have. She tried to move her muscles but she could feel it cracking from not moving for a long time. “What happened...?” she asked herself softly, trying to remember what happened. The trial, Sera's anger, Adam being annoying, falling, her wings, then crashing. “Where am I?” she asked herself again, her voice croaking slightly, she slowly moved her body so she could sit on the bed, her eyes wandering everywhere, taking in her surroundings. She noticed that the symbol apple and snake was present on the designs of the tinted windows. The door opens.
Another week has passed, still no sign of her waking up. Lucifer was walking towards the guest room, preparing himself to try to heal her again. He opens the door and he froze to see the fallen angel who's usually lying limp on the bed is now sitting and staring on the window. “You're awake.” he says softly and she turned to look at him, her eyes, it's so beautiful. “Who are you?” she asked him softly and he smiled, “The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.”
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pandoraslxna · 4 months
Text
❄️ Kinkmas — 05. On a mount ❄️
So‘lek x female human reader
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⋆。° ✮ Minors dni 🔞
⋆。° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist
⋆。° ✮ Warnings: they do it on a pali (direhorse), smut, p in v, dub-con, kidnapping, held hostage, enemies to lovers, size kink, cockwarming, ooc So‘lek because I wrote this before the game came out, it plays before he joined the resistance, language barrier
⋆。° ✮ Translation: tawtute = human, sky person
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In the realm of forbidden desires, where the line between right and wrong blurs, a seductive sin had woven her enchanting web and So’lek had found himself caught in your irresistible embrace.
The forbidden fruit dangled before him, tempting him with her intoxicating flavors. He didn’t know what had driven him to this act, but he felt a heady mix of excitement, curiosity, and temptation, uncaring of the consequences that laid ahead as he took this very specific tawtute with him.
So‘lek had never taken a hostage in all of his years of living. In all of his years of seeking revenge. The clicking of metal against metal around his neck was the cold, dead evidence of this.
But this tawtute… there was just something about you that was different. Something that made his blood stir and his nerves tingle like a live wire.
The demon whrites in his lap and So‘lek makes a soothing noise, hushed into your round little ear while the hands on your fragile hips tighten, keeping you from falling off where you’re seated.
"Hìpey [hold still]", he warns, but his tone remains calm and composed.
Every bounce of the palis hooves meeting the hard ground beneath pushes you further down on his cock and you mewl, muffled cries and moans against the cloth covering your mouth under your mask. Originally he had tied it there to keep you from screaming, had bound your wrists behind your back to keep you from trashing around. But now it’s to keep you still, to make it easier for himself to use your small, tight body for his own pleasure.
But by the way you clench around his length, he doubt that you doesn’t enjoy this just as much as he does.
So‘lek can feel your slick running down his shaft where he’s not fully seated inside you, your human body too small to take all of him at once. But the gallop of his pali did help ease the way further into you, without having to do much movement of his own.
"Nìsyep sìltsan, vrrtep [so good and tight, little demon]", he groans lowly, so close to your ear he felt the heat radiating off your skin. The flush that spreads over your cheeks makes you feel all tingly. You don’t know what exactly he’s saying to you, but the deep raspy voice hushing these foreign words into your ear is enough to make you understand his intentions.
A particularly hard shove of the pali as it galloped over thick branches made your clit brush over the leathery sattle and you cried out in bliss, the whiny sound muffled and helpless.
One of So’lek‘s arms pulled you closer against him at this, so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder and watch his own hands dip between your thighs. Rough fingers slide through your folds and around his own cock where he’s halfway nestled inside you, smearing your arousal back and forth, before he locates your clit.
"Nìtxan mei [you‘re so wet]", he says, "ayngenga asim? [are you close?]"
There comes no response, but he doesn’t need one anyways. Your squirming and the clenching around his length is all he needs as confirmation, so he begins to circle that little bundle of nerves that makes your breathing pick up rapidly.
So‘lek wishes he could understand the few words you actually manage to force out through the woven cloth covering your mouth, the ones that sound like pleas and begs for him, possibly. You just sound so sweet as you fall apart on his cock, it makes him wonder how tasting such a forbidden fruit, a little demon like you, could feel so heavenly.
Rocking with the gentle sway of his palis movement, So‘lek relishes in the pulsing of your walls around him, the wet, rhythmic throbbing and squeezing that massages his cock like you intend to milk him for all his worth. But while you fall slack in his arms with a shuddering gasp, he decides to keep his composure for a while longer, just for the favor of staying like this. At least, until he arrives back at his tent, where he can properly burry himself inside you.
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moon-rivr · 6 months
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Miguel with a chubby reader(specifically hipdips and a big stomach;and if you don’t mind,a toothgap) make it as kinky as you like friend🫶
-angel anon🪽
thigh worshipper
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pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader
contents: oral (f receiving), brief thigh fucking, brief titty fucking, face sitting, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, some mommy issues, overall just smut
author’s note: got kinda carried away with this one 🫣 i hope you don’t mind that i mixed your request with one from @shadofireshinobi. anyways enjoy lol <3 (i hope i did the requests justice)
word count: 5.5K+
You were laying on your bed, scrolling through Tinder after realizing that you'd watched all the shows you had on your list. Though you weren't too enticed by the options appearing on your screen, it entertained you for the time being. You stared at the messages on your screen, noticing that none of them had asked you to go on a date but rather a invitation to come over.
Though you were conscious of the fact that you didn't fit the description of the 'conventionally attractive woman', you still wanted to be seen as something more than just a sexual object. You continued to swipe left at the men popping up on your phone until your phone started ringing, the word 'MOM' flashing at you.
"Hi mommy, how's it going?" You greeted her, trying to make some sort of conversation. Your relationship had been strained before you moved to Nueva York, but now it just felt like you were hanging on by a thin rope. "I'm gonna keep this short. Your brother asked me to tell you if you could bring him some food. Said that you would listen to me for some reason," she responded, cutting off every aspect of making friendly conversation.
"He's thirty years old, I'm sure he can manage to get food on his own," you grumbled, knowing that he'd used your need for motherly approval to get his way. "Just go give him some food, you're all each other has," she responded, the line cutting off after she spoke. "Bye," you mumbled to the dead line, hoping that some part of her would call back and ask you how you were doing, to provide you with some kind of advice.
But of course, you were only met with a black screen when you pulled the phone away from your ear. You got up from your bed and walked over to the kitchen, packing up what you made for yourself in a plastic tupperware. While you didn't exactly mind doing these favors for your brother, you weren't expecting to go back to work on your day off. You worked at Alchemax under the human resources department and he had a tendency to use that to his advantage, getting you to bring him lunch and whatnot.
"Y’know, you could've called me instead of mom if you wanted lunch," you greeted your brother as you came into the office, setting down the tupperware on his desk. He opened it up, the scents of spices filling up the room and he let out a small sigh in delight. "Yeah but it's so much easier to get you to comply when I tap into your mommy issues," he responded, putting the papers on his desk to the side. You sat across from him, rolling your eyes as you two talked about what's new at Alchemax.
"Don't forget about the barbecue I’m hosting on Saturday," your brother reminded you as you were walking out the door, and you gave him a thumbs up before leaving. You heard your phone buzz in your back pocket and you saw a message from a decent looking guy asking to get to know you better. You were instantly immersed into conversation, having a slimmer of hope that his intentions would be pure.
Your attention was taken away from your phone when you bumped into a very built man, the sounds of glass shattering forcing you to put your phone away. "Can you not see properly or something?" A voice looming over you spoke, agitation evident in his tone. you looked up to see that the man was staring down at you, his eyes flaring with annoyance and anger. "I'll help you clean those test tubes, i'm sorry about that," you responded, watching the liquid dribble through the floor. "Don't bother, just get out the way and go back to whatever low-paying intern gig you're doing."
Your nose flared as he spoke to you but before you could argue back to him, he'd already walked off to the janitor's closet. While you had offered to help him clean up the mess, you didn't feel responsible towards actually doing the task given the way he spoke to you. You carefully stepped around the glass and left the building, trying not to let his words agitate you too much. If luck has it, you'll never have to see that man again.
The day of the barbecue had approached you faster than you'd expected and you looked over at your closet for options on what to wear. You didn't want to appear too overdressed, but you didn't want to wear too little. You grabbed a black tank top and a pair of low-rise shorts, putting them on quickly. A younger version of yourself would've been self conscious of how your pudge appeared on the tank top or the stretch marks that showed on your thighs, but that version of yourself was no longer there and all you felt was pure happiness at seeing yourself.
You did some light makeup you wouldn't sweat off in the sun before heading towards the kitchen, grabbing some of the potato salad you'd made for the barbecue at your brother's request. You arrived at the event half an hour late but everyone was starting to get buzzed, so none of them made any note about it. You set down the tupperware on the table outside, glancing around at who'd arrived at the event.
It was composed of most of your coworkers, given that neither you or your brother tried too hard to make friends, and their kids running around in the backyard. Though you tried not to talk to geneticists at work, you found yourself getting attached to their kids whenever you went to events. Whether it was a form of healing your inner child, of being the mother figure that you never received growing up or if it was just to be the 'cool aunt', you didn't know but you'd grown to enjoy the kids' company more than your coworkers'.
Your eyes widen comedically when you notice the man you'd bumped into a couple days before, talking with your brother like they're the best of friends as he sipped on a Modelo. You viewed him through your peripheral, trying not to be so creepy in your staring as you tried to figure him out. He seemed cold and unappealing to hang out when you had bumped into him, but he was laughing and slapping your brother on the shoulder as they talked. You walked over to the food table, browsing through the options before you settled on getting a beef empanada.
"Do tell me your thoughts on the recipe after you're finished eating," someone's voice behind you snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned around to face the same man. Now that he'd mentioned that he made the empanadas, you were predetermined to hate them just out of spite. You took a bite out of the empanada, the beef and cheese melting perfectly on your tongue. It was savory, neither too salty nor too simple, but your ego couldn't let yourself admit that to him.
"They're alright, at best. I'd say Colombian empanadas are better," you responded with a small shrug, trying to mask your expression the best you could. He rolled his eyes as he watched you take another bite from the empanada, entertained by the way you couldn't help but lick your fingers after you were finished. "I'm Miguel, it's nice to meet you when you're not breaking all my test tubes," he finally spoke up after a couple seconds, but your attention was pried away from the man when you felt some light tugging on your shorts.
"Can you come play water balloons with us, pretty please?" A little girl with pig tails asked you, her eyes eerily similar to the man standing in front of you. "Gabriella, what did I say about getting messy?" He spoke up, looking down at the girl as he folds his arms. "Please daddy? I don't wanna be the only one not playing," Gabriella asked him, giving him her best version of puppy eyes. He let out a small grumble, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, looking down at the floor. "Fine, but have this lady here take care of you."
You joined Gabriella with the other kids as they threw water balloons at each other, eager to have some time away from the other adults at the party. You could feel their judgmental stares when you were eating your empanada, from the gap in your front teeth to the way that you ate, but you didn't really say anything since they didn't acknowledge it directly. You looked up to see that Miguel was staring at the two of you though someone was speaking to him at his side, one of the more renowned geneticists at the lab.
"Hey, who's that?" Miguel asked your brother once he got the opportunity to get away from the geneticist who talked his ear off about how the economy's going downhill. He'd tried asking other people at the party but they all offered him vague responses about how you were just a HR worker at Alchemax. "That's my sister, I'm surprised I haven't introduced you to her before. Why do you ask, though?" your brother responded, looking over at where the kids were playing.
"Just curious why a grown woman's playing with a bunch of children," he responded with a small shrug, folding his arms across his chest. "The kids like her, man. I think it's helpful to her since our mom wasn't exactly present in our life, sorta like healing her inner child," your brother responded, looking back over at Miguel before he walked away. Miguel wasn't sure why he was so fascinated by you, given how much of a klutz you could be but he found himself entertained by the idea that you didn't put up with his shit.
The group had aligned for a photo like at most reunions to hang up on the front walls of Alchemax, but you were pulled to the side by the girl taking the picture. "Excuse me but you can't be in the picture. you're all wet," she told you, her nose scrunching up as she looked at you. "Literally all the children are wet, so go ahead and tell me the real reason why you don't want me to be in the picture," you responded, folding your arms as you stared her down. "Well, you're not extremely flattering in this angle. You'd just ruin the picture if you got in there."
Miguel overheard this conversation and reunited everyone that was in the group, standing off to the side in solidarity. He wasn't sure why he felt so protective of you, of having a need to make sure you didn't feel hurt, but he wasn't going to question it too much. "Can you leave? You're kinda killing the vibe here," he spoke up behind you, despite the fact that he had no authority over who came to the party. Her eyes widen as she looked over at Miguel, her cheeks flushed as she tried to sputter an apology out to him. "I believe the person you need to apologize to is right in front of me, no?"
The girl looked at you, a disgusted look on her face like she couldn't believe that she had to be subjected to this. "You know what? I don't wanna hear your apology. Just get the fuck out of my brother's house," you told her before she opened her mouth and she reluctantly left, visibly defeated. Miguel looked down at you, a surprised expression coaxing his features but chose not to say anything. The group reunited once more for the picture and you chose to smile for it, the first smile you've given for the first time in a while in photos.
The party ended up winding down soon after that and you went home after helping your brother clean up the house. You were out on your porch, reading a book on one of the lawn chairs you'd gotten on sale with a cigarette hanging from your mouth. Your attention was diverted from your book as you saw Spider-Man hanging upside down from your porch.
"Don't you know those are bad for you?" He asked you, pointing towards your mouth as he kept his balance with one hand. "And don't you know dropping on your head is also bad for you?" You retorted, watching as he crawled into your lawn, settling down on the lawn chair next to you. You continued to read your book, occasionally taking a moment to look from your peripheral that Spider-Man was staring at you, like you were the most fascinating thing he's seen.
"What?" You decided to break the silence after a while, setting your book down and taking the lit cigarette out of your mouth, putting it out. "This is usually the part where people start to freak out, y'know? start to get excited that Spider-Man recognizes their existence and whatnot," he responded, and your brows furrowed slightly as you laughed. "You're really not that important to me, bug boy. i'll see you around Spider-Man," you told him, retreating back into the house and he was left speechless.
Miguel took notice that you responded nicer to him while he was dress as Spider-Man, even if it was just by the slightest bit, so he decided to check up on you every time that he was done with patrol. He validated his decision to go over to your house by telling himself that he was purely there to collect information about you, about what type of person you were if you were going to be around Gabriella once more.
The more that you spent time with Miguel and Spider-Man, the less time that you spent on Tinder to seek out approval from random men. You decided to delete the app after coming to the realization that you felt more accomplished with Miguel talking to you like you were something more than just a fetish, and you had started to develop some type of feelings for him. The thought of liking him terrified you since you'd built up some emotional walls to keep people out, but he managed to tear through those pretty easily despite how offputting you could get.
He came to your porch one night while you were lighting up a cigarette, dangling it in between the middle of your teeth as you paced around. "What's up with you, my number one fan?" He asked you cheekily and you were visibly startled at seeing him appear from the night. "Didn't think you were showing up so soon, bug boy. Might start to think that you're actually interested in me," you remarked, trying to deflect from the subject at hand.
"What's wrong?" he inquired, sitting down on the lawn chair as he crossed his arms. "You don't have people to save? No one who's just so obsessed with you that they followed you here?" You remarked, sitting down next to him on the chair as you played with the hem of your silk pajama shorts. He stayed quiet, almost like a form of invitation for you to share what you were going through at the moment.
You started to tell him about what was going on at work, with a big audit that's taking place at Alchemax. You noticed that while you were talking, he looked up at you a couple times just to make you believe he was paying attention but his gaze kept returning towards your exposed thighs. "Are you bothered by them or something?" You decided to cut off your story and take out the cigarette from its place, putting it out before putting it in the ash tray.
"No, no. I'm sorry, I didn't make to feel you that way. It's just.. I've had a long day too and your thighs just look so nice smushed together in that chair," he admitted, his voice cracking a little bit like he wasn't expecting to say that himself. Your brows furrowed but you decided to stay shut, unsure of how to react to his remark. "Can I.. just taste you? We don't have to do anything else but I just really need you to wrap those thighs around my face."
Which is how you ended up inviting Spider-Man into your home, the two of you currently in your bedroom. He slid just the mouth part of the mask up to his nose and even though he asked you not to, you couldn't help but examine his features to see if it was somebody you knew. Your thoughts were diverted as his mouth touched yours, surprised that he was initiating some form of foreplay. You brought your hands to the back of his mask, feeling a bit of soft curls from where the mask had been exposed as you kissed him, more needy than you had expected to be.
He brought one hand down to your sleep shorts, his hand tracing small circles on your inner thigh before gently prodding at your folds. You felt your breath escape your lungs as he pushed a finger in, your growing slickness inviting him with each thrust that he took. His mouth went down to your neck, his lips sucking harsh hickeys into your skin. He knew that it was wrong at some degree, but he couldn't wait to see you as Miguel with his marks on you.
His fangs gently grazed at your skin with every kiss that he took and he was almost tempted to paralyze you, to have you be his feast for as long as he needed to, but he decided to file that away for a later time. He pulled his hand away from your cunt once he was done with the attack on your neck, slotting in between your thighs. He rolled the fat in between his hands, doing the best he could to massage them but even with his bigger than average hands, your thighs were just too big to do so.
Your plush thighs closed his head in the spot that he was in and he figured that if he died right now, he'd be a pretty lucky man. He brought his mouth to your folds, slowly starting to prod inside your hole with his tongue as he looked up at you for your every reaction. He couldn't help but get off on the fact that you hated him so much but yet, you'd complied so easily to have him in between your legs.
"Look at you using your friendly neighborhood bug boy to get off. Y'know, you look so much prettier when you're not being to mean to me," he told you, his tongue forming small circles on your inner thigh. If you hadn't built some form of connection with him, you would've worried that he would be thrown off by the stretch marks coaxing your thighs, but if anything, he just seemed to be more enticed by the mere sight of them. "Shut up and just fuck me," you mumbled, thrusting your pelvis closer to his face as you tried to feel his tongue on your cunt again.
"With pleasure," he responded, his hands squeezing your thighs as his tongue went into your hole, tasting every bit of the juices you were releasing. He had no intention of wasting any drop, not when you tasted like the sweetest nectar he'd ever have. His eyes shut to focus on the task at hand, your hand coming down to the back of his mask as your hips moved closer to his face, starting up a steady rhythm to get yourself off. He stopped and tsked, his hands coming to your thighs as he held them in place.
"Patience, sweetheart. I'll get you off, don't worry," he says before he went back to it, his tongue collecting all the slick from your folds before going back to thrusting in and out of your hole. He felt your hands grip around the back of his mask but he felt some sort of trust in you, that you wouldn't expose him for your benefit. And you didn't, you simply just pulled at the curls on the nape of his neck as he continued his attack on your pussy.
His mouth enclosed around your clit as his hand came down to your pussy, slowly moving a finger inside while you got adjusted to it. He'd done a good job of preparing you beforehand but his fingers were too long and thick for you to just take in one thrust. He started easing his way in until your walls opened to accommodate him, instantly curling to find your g-spot. His tongue flicked around your clit like he was curious to find out what exactly is what made you tick, what would have you dripping in his mouth.
Spider-Man continued with this for a couple minutes, just taking an opportunity to explore what made you writhe against him and what had you moaning out for more. Your fingers were tightly wound as he rolled his tongue around the nub, his pointer finger brushing up against the spongy spot inside of you with every thrust that he took. "Let me taste you, sweetheart. I need you to give it to me," he pleaded, sounding more desperate than you for your orgasm. Your back arched from the bed as you felt the coil inside of you snapping quickly, your orgasm approaching you quickly.
He lapped up all the juices your cunt released around his finger, his mouth coming down to lick at the juices that had leaked out around your folds. He knew he should've been a gentleman and waited until you came down from your orgasm, but he couldn't help the desire he felt towards sucking everything that you would give him.
"Sit on my face," he told you once you came down from your orgasm, laying down on the bed next to you. You knew that he could take on multiple villains at the same time and you could see that he was ripped just by the way his suit clung onto his body, but a part of you couldn't help but feel like you would suffocate the man if you did that. "If you're worried about me, I'll be fine. I just wanna have your thighs squish around my head, mami," he spoke once more, sounding so needy to have you comply with his demand.
You slowly moved up his chest all the way to his face, your thighs enclosing around his face as they held him in place. You gripped onto the headboard for some kind of support as his hands came down to your thighs, helping you in the process. He started off  by thrusting his tongue into you, tasting the remnants of your orgasm with every thrust that he took. He brought his nose closer to your clit, the contact of it every time that he moved his head causing a small shudder to run down your back.
He ate you out with such vigor, like he would die if he wasn't able to acquire a taste of you. "Use my face all you want, mami. i'm just here to pleasure you," he spoke up from beneath you, and you slowly started rocking your hips against his body. You kept your rhythm in tandem with the way that his tongue moved, your hands going to your breasts as you kneaded them through your thin shirt. You moved them underneath the shirt, playing with your nipples for extra stimulation as you tugged and pinched them.
His hand started to play with your clit, his fingers working on the nub as he rubbed circles on it. Your pussy clenched around his tongue, coating his mouth with a wave of fresh arousal. He couldn't help but lap it up greedily, working to have you cum on his mouth once more. Your toes curled as you felt that orgasm building up inside of you, your rhythm starting to get sporadic the more that he used his tongue. You came once more, your juices coating his mouth as you got off from him.
He missed the way your thighs wrapped around his head as soon as you got off, but he was consoled by the taste of you overwhelming his senses. He licked his lips and looked over at you, your chest heaving as you tried to get your breathing under control. He knew he should've left at that moment but he couldn't help but hold you in his embrace, his fingertips tracing small circles on your stomach as you started to fall asleep.
Spider-Man continued to make routine visits to your house, though he didn't attempt to have sex with you right away. The day after he ate you out, he came over at around midnight and asked if he could fuck your thighs, that he couldn't stop thinking about them and how inviting they looked. Needless to say, you agreed and soon enough he was on your couch, thrusting into your thighs.
His cock wasn't small by any means, but as he did this, only the tip was visible with every thrust. You slowly grinded your thighs against his cock, emulating what penetrative sex would be like. He came after a couple minutes but he didn't stay the night this time, he simply got dressed and left your house. The next day, he showed up with some minor injuries and asked if he could fuck your tits after you finished patching him up.
He would always be a fan of the way your thighs clenched around his cock, but he couldn't deny that your tits were pretty damn enticing. The way they felt as he was thrusting in and out of them, the way you pushed them together to provide him with the friction that he needed, and the way your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. His cum coated the top of your tits as he came and he could've sworn he could've came again with the way you licked the cum off.
Coincidentally, Miguel had also taken steps to be a better person towards you. He had brought some empanadas as an apology for overreacting when you bumped into him and he started bringing Gabriella to your office when you were on break. You knew that he was doing it more for you than anything else given that Alchemax offered free daycare, and you could admit that you liked to take care of her. She was smart, in a way that wasn't annoying to talk to, but she was capable of having a conversation with you that wasn't about school.
You came home from work after a pretty stressful day of paperwork and filing, wanting to relax and watch something new on tv. Your plans were quickly derailed when you heard a thump in your porch, the sight of Spider-Man on the floor making your heart drop. You'd had some suspicions that he'd been Miguel seeing him hurt made all the blood drain from your face. You walked over to the porch, opening the door to let him stumble inside.
He settled on your couch, holding his stomach in pain as a gash bled through the cracks of his fingers. You got up and went to the bathroom, getting a towel to wrap around the gash so the bleeding would subside. "No smart remarks about how I'm paying for your couch after this?" He joked, his voice coming out cracked from the pain he was in. You scoffed as you wrapped the towel around him to the best of your ability, tightening it up.
"You get hurt and the first thing you want to say to me is some stupid remark about my couch, Miguel?" You scold him, your eyes widening as you gave away the realization of your knowledge. He slid off the mask, his hair messy with some pieces of flesh tangled into the strands as he looked at you apologetically. "I didn't know you cared about me so much to worry this much, corazón. I would be flattered if i wasn't bleeding out," he told you, flashing a grin but it didn't carry the intended effect.
You gave him a towel so he could wash off his hair and the grime coating his body after he finished healing. You were sitting on your bed as you scrolled through your phone, reading through some stupid news article about today's events. You looked up to see Miguel coming into your room with the towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and curled at the ends. You could admit that the sight looked inviting, especially with the way that his happy trail poked out from the towel but you didn't want to initiate anything just in case he was still in pain.
Miguel came over to the bed, bunching your night dress in his hands as he looked down at you. "Let me thank you for everything you did for me, mami. I've been thinking about your cunt clenching around me for so long," he suggested and you raised a brow as you looked at him. "You sure you want to do that after an injury?" You asked and he reassured you that he was fine, though he appreciated the concern.
Miguel took off your dress quickly after he got your consent, throwing it to the floor and bent down to kiss your neck and chest. He started to kiss every place that he had access to, treating your body like a masterpiece more than anything else. "You're so pretty, como una obra de arte," he whispered into your skin, nipping at the juncture on your neck. (like a work of art) You'd never felt so turned on with your previous partners and the man hadn't done anything but kiss you.
Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he kissed your lips, tasting your mint toothpaste as his tongue went in your mouth. His fingers were working on your cunt as he opened your cunt to fit around his cock, knowing that it would take some adjustment to get it to fit. He whispered how beautiful you were and how good you tasted in between kisses, each compliment sounding more needy than the last.
He aligned his cock with your cunt, slowly pushing it in as you engulfed his length. You felt a sting forming in between your legs as he bottomed out, the girth of his cock stretching you to your limits. He rubbed small circles on your stomach, his mouth coming down to attach on your breasts. "Don't listen to anybody who says anything about you, you're beautiful. Not just to me," he told you, looking into your eyes as he pulled his cock out. You were about to whine at the loss of contact but he quickly thrust it back in, getting into a steady rhythm.
"Gabriella’s been telling me how nice you are, how she wishes you were her mommy. How badly she wants a sibling," he moaned out in between thrusts, his head hanging low as he looked down at you. "Then make me a mommy, Miguel," you responded, your breasts moving with every thrust that he took. "I'll make you the prettiest mommy Nueva York's ever seen. Toda llena de leche y solo para mí," he responded, his thrusts growing more intense with every passing moment. (all full of milk and just for me)
He brought his mouth to your neck, kissing the skin as he left small marks for every one. "Tan rica que sabes y es tan injusto. You should be my dumb little wife, just available for me any time I want," he told you and you could feel that he was being serious, rather just saying this out of the intensity of the moment. (you taste so good and it’s so unfair) The realization made you want to kiss him, feel even more intimacy despite how close you were to him. It felt like you couldn't get enough of him, of his cock, of everything that he would give you, despite the fact that he was giving you what he could at the moment.
He rubbed your clit with his middle finger, working in tandem with every thrust that he took. Your legs began to shake with the intensity that he was thrusting inside of you, your toes curling and back arching as you felt that coil building up inside of you. Your orgasm washed over you with intensity you'd never faced before, your vision spotting as you tried to come down from the euphoria. Your walls tightened around his cock and you took the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist to convey that you were being serious about him breeding you.
He looked down at you before burying his head on your shoulder, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he approached his orgasm. Your cunt clenched around his cock tightly, milking him for every drop of cum that he could offer. He pushed the cum deep inside as he took notice of it start to leak, making sure that it would take. He slid out of you with ease, rolling on his back next to you. Just the picture of your stomach round with his child and your tits full of milk made his cock grow hard once more.
"Let me just make sure that it takes properly, mami," he told you, moving on top of you as he got started to go once more. Needless to say, after each round he convinced you to keep going with him under the pretense that he just wanted to make sure that he'd pumped enough so it'd take.
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ellebakers · 2 months
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☆ My love (+18)
Aemond Targaryen x reader (twin sister)
Summary : Being Aemond's twin sister is a good thing, he is gentle with you, always kind and affectionate because you are his twin but also his wife, but with the others, he is cruel and you have more than enough of it.
Warnings : Smut, slight angst, language, incest.
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You would be his wife, that's what your mother Queen Alicent decided when she gave birth to you, three minutes after Aemond. And until today everything was perfect between you, obviously as a child there was only platonic love and joy, over the years this love was transformed into desire especially for Aemond who knew that you were going to be his but who had to watch you become a woman without being able to touch you, suffice to say that your wedding night was not very relaxing..
“To these three strong boys.”
You let out a sigh as you heard your husband's cruel words directed towards your nephews.
In a split second things escalated, Jace hit your husband and Aegon slammed Lucerys onto the table, everyone stood up, screaming and panicking.
Aemond wore a smirk as he turned to you, hoping to see you laugh at the situation, but it was a tired and cold look that you gave him, shaking your head.
You got up from the table and informed your mother "It's time for me to retire mother, have a good night."
Hearing your nonchalant tone of voice, Alicent offered you a sad smile "Of course my dear."
Aemond watched you leave the room, a little disappointed that you didn't appreciate his provocation.
You sighed and walked towards the nursery where one of the maids was sitting, watching your daughter, you smiled tenderly and whispered to the maid "You can go and rest, I'll keep Aenora in our marital bedroom."
The servant bowed "Of course princess, I inform you that Aenora does not want to drink my milk, it is possible that she will ask for it later."
You smiled and nodded, taking the little girl, only three months old, into your arms.
The small Valeryan looked at you, cooing as you stroked her cheek while taking her to your room.
When you arrived, Aemond was sitting on your bed, waiting for you, he raised his head when you entered. “I told myself that my wife had fled the castle.” He tried to joke.
You didn't bother to answer, settling into your reading chair you kept Aenora close to you, rocking her lightly.
“Did I do something to make you angry ?” Aemond asked with a hint of sadness in his voice.
You sighed. “Why do you have to be so cruel to everyone other than me ?”
He sat down next to you "You are my wife, the love of my life, I only need to be nice to you and our daughter."
You shook your head slightly and handed him Aenora. “Take her, I have to change.”
Aemond grabbed the baby and wrapped his arms around her, smiling tenderly at her as you stood up to take off your dress.
"You know what I'm talking about, why did you need to tell our nephews that ?"
Aemond scoffed "Because it's the truth, they're bastards."
You gave him a cold look. “Don’t use that kind of language in front of our daughter.”
He chuckled "She's four months old honey, she can't understand."
Once changed into your nightgown which left nothing to the imagination, you sat down again next to Aemond. “Even if that is true, why do you constantly need to remind this poor childrens of that ?"
Aemond scoffed, his jaw clenched. "Children? They're men, didn't you see the way Jacaerys was looking at your breasts ?"
You frowned a little, not paying attention to the way your nephew was looking at you. “What are you talking about ?”
"My love, you should stop thinking that everyone has good intentions. Jacaerys almost had a hard-on looking at your dress hugging your chest."
You slapped his shoulder, laughing lightly, “Stop.”
Aemond smiled "It's my role as a husband to protect you and if I can humiliate these.." He was about to say an insult but seeing your look he did nothing "Boys.. by the same opportunity, so I do it."
You rolled your eyes and smiled "You're stubborn, are you aware of that ?"
He smiled and kissed your lips “That’s why you love me.”
Aenora started to get agitated and cry, Aemond handed her over to you, understanding that the little girl was probably hungry.
You lowered the strap of your nightgown, letting your left breast come out, and the little girl hastened to put it in her mouth to extract the milk.
After a moment you saw Aemond moving out of the corner of your eye, pulling on his pants that were becoming too tight.
“Don’t tell me that seeing me breastfeed turns you on?”
Aemond couldn't help but moan "Can you blame me ? It's been a week since I've been able to touch you... do you have any idea of ​​the torture you're inflicting on me ?"
You couldn't help but laugh, "You're insatiable." Aemond came closer and nibbled on your neck making you moan slightly, thanks to the gods Aenora had finished drinking and was starting to fall asleep.
You gently placed him in his little bed, and as you turned to face Aemond, he threw himself at you, kissing you furiously.
You stepped back and fell on the bed, your twin took the opportunity to lift your nightgown, he pulled on your thighs, bringing you a little closer to him.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking up at him lustfully, he maintaining eye contact with you as he knelt down and attached his mouth to your pussy.
You gasped and threw your head back, your hand came to his hair instinctively, pushing his head a little closer to your pussy to feel even more pleasure.
“Lords.” You moaned and moved your hips as he continued to devour you, his tongue working magic as you arched up moaning harder each time, and when you felt the orgasm approaching you grabbed a pillow and put it on your move to cover your cry of pleasure so as not to wake Aenora.
Once recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at Aemond and saw him take off his pants, leaving him with his tunic, he grabbed his hard cock let his hand slide over it to harden it a little more, once ready he grabbed a pillow and put it under your pelvis, then, with these firm hands he grabbed your thighs and spread them a little further.
You closed your eyes and gasped as his length entered you slowly and deliciously.
“Still so tight.” He whispered to you, letting out a moan in your ear. “So hot, wet and good… you’re perfect.”
The act was so sensual and romantic, different from what he used to do before your daughter was born.
“Aemond.” You cried with pleasure.
He grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his hips, he continued his slow and terribly delicious movements, you felt every inch of his length as he moved in and out.
"My love." He moaned, with his fingertips he pulled down the top of your nightgown, exposing your breasts to him, he grabbed the left breast, licking and sucking your nipple, extracting some of your milk while he massaged the other.
Having enough of his slow movements you swapped positions.
He let out a groan of pleasure, you placed your hand over his mouth "Shh, you're going to wake up Aenora." He smiled against your hand and gave you a thrust making you moan.
You started moving on his cock quickly making you moan mutually
"That's my little dragon." He groaned, running a hand over your face, letting his thumb brush over your lips, you grabbed it and sucked on it while looking at Aemond.
He growled and slid his hand between your legs, playing with your clit, and in no time he had a hand over your mouth as you came, letting out cries of pleasure.
It was up to you to shut him up with your lips on his mouth as he finished inside you after you clenched your pussy around his length.
You pulled yourself off of him and dropped to his side with one last moan, both of your bodies sweating, out of breath.
He turned and kissed your lips while caressing your breasts “I love you.”
"I love you too." You sighed, trying to catch your breath.
After a while you fell into a deep sleep, but before you fell asleep you heard Aemond's words as he stroked your hair.
My love...
734 notes · View notes
corroded-hellfire · 7 months
Note
hello!! i have seen so many eddie x fem reader but never a chubby fem reader so? can u do one and plz take as much time
(can it also be smut???)
- suki
This honestly felt cathartic to write. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy 🩵
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f!receiving, body image issues
Words: 4.5k
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"Ugh, it’s so cheesy.”
Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch dramatically. You scoff as you watch him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to keep most of your attention on the flickering television screen in front of you. The end of An Officer and a Gentleman plays, where Richard Gere picks up Debra Winger and carries her off bridal style.
“I think it’s romantic,” you say, lazily flicking your hand at your boyfriend’s chest. 
His dark eyebrows raise up to meet his bangs as he kicks his socked feet up on the cluttered coffee table. 
“Really?” he asks. “So, you’re saying you want me to just scoop you up like that and carry you?”
The snort that comes out of you isn’t intentional, but Eddie’s words force it to come out. 
“Hell no,” you tell him. “You’d break your back.”
Eddie’s previously raised eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. His spine straightens and he crosses his arms across his chest, offense leaking into his posture. 
“What do you mean?”
Surely, he must be joking, you think. But the way his gaze is focused on you makes you realize he’s serious.
“Eddie.” You brandish your hand towards your larger body before gesturing to his own svelte frame. 
Unsure how to feel about your insinuation, Eddie shifts in his seat to face you better. He eyes your body, something that always makes you feel a little self-conscious even if it’s in an admiring fashion.
“You think I can’t carry you?” he asks.
“Not without blowing out your back.” 
That has Eddie pushing himself up off the couch and rubbing his hands together. He nods to you as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.
“Let me try,” he says.
“No.” You don’t move an inch. 
Eddie’s shoulders slump, reminding you of a deflating beach ball as he begins to pout.
“Babe,” he whines. “Come on.” 
“No, Eddie,” you reply, tone more definitive this time. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” He waves off your concern as if it’s the last thing on his mind. But you’re aware that it’s very real and know it would only make you feel more uncomfortable in your own skin if your weight hurt your boyfriend. 
“Just drop it,” you try. 
As persistent and stubborn as Eddie is about something once it’s entered his mind, he can see your demeanor changing bit by bit, moving closer to upset. It doesn’t mean he’s going to let it go entirely, though. He’ll let you think he’s forgotten about it for now, just continuing on with the nice evening you’re having. But there’s already an idea turning the gears in the back of Eddie’s mind. 
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The next week, you waltz into the Munson’s trailer–having learned long ago that you can just let yourself in–and your brow furrows as you slip off your shoes. Eddie is standing between the couch and the television, doing arm curls with a pair of smaller but heavy-looking weights. Not once have you seen Eddie lifting weights before, so you’re confused, unsure of what’s going on. 
Eddie’s eyes glance over to you, away from the rerun of Who’s the Boss playing on the television and gives you a smile.
“Hey, baby,” he says as naturally as always. “Be done in a minute.”
You finally find your voice as you track his arms moving up and down. “What’re you doing?”
“Knitting a sweater,” he answers without missing a beat. 
“Ha ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes even though he isn’t looking your way and plop down on the couch behind him.
Eddie lets out a small, breathy laugh and turns his head to the side so you know he’s talking to you.
“What’s it look like? I’m lifting weights.”
“But why?” you ask, tucking your legs up beneath you.
When Eddie turns face forward again, you catch a glimpse of his smirk in the reflection on the TV.
“So you’ll have no more excuses about why I shouldn’t pick you up,” he says. 
Letting out a dramatic groan to rival one of Eddie’s own, you flop down on your side and bury your face into one of the couch cushions. Irritated, you pick your head up and glare at the back of your boyfriend’s head.
“This again?” you ask.
“I’m gonna sweep you off your feet,” he says as he begins his last set. “Wait and see.”
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“Jesus Christ,” Dustin whines, leaning back in his seat. He swipes at one of the D20s on the table out of frustration. “Where the hell is he? Eddie’s never been late for a campaign in his life.”
“Are you sure your boyfriend didn’t mention anything about being late?” Mike snaps at you from the opposite side of the table.
“For the third time, Michael,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “no.”
Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but the drama room door bangs open to reveal their Dungeon Master, his soaking wet hair turning the white portion of the Hellfire shirt see-through. There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in his appearance. Leave it to Dustin to break the seal.
“Where the hell were you?”
“Is it raining out?” Lucas asks no one in particular, eyes trailing Eddie’s weighed-down curls.
He doesn’t receive a response as Eddie saunters into the room, acting as if he didn’t just break one of his own most important rules. Your boyfriend throws a wink your way and presses a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you to get to his throne. Once he’s plopped down in the seat and made himself comfortable, he takes in all the eyes staring at him from around the table.
“I was in the gym. Weight room, more specifically,” Eddie says, as if they should have known this all along. 
“Like…where the athletes train?” Gareth asks, nose wrinkling up in confusion. You can taste Eddie’s snarky reply in the air before he even parts his lips.
“Congratulations on knowing what the weight room is, Gareth the Great.”
When Eddie’s eyes don’t meet yours, you wonder if he’s avoiding your gaze or not. He has to know that the fact that he was lifting weights again would grate on your nerves. Either he’s oblivious–which is entirely possible–or he’s being smart and not meeting your glare. Eddie is quiet for a moment, which is so unlike him that you’re wondering if maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. If that’s what he wants he’ll be sorely disappointed though because you’re biting your tongue for now. Even though he’ll definitely hear about it later when there are no witnesses around. 
“All right,” Eddie finally says, clapping his ringed hands together. “Shall we get started?”
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Whenever you want to vent about Eddie or something he did, you never have a shortage of friends to go to. Most are glad to lend an ear and a few even look forward to hearing what crazy thing he did this time. But when it comes to how you’re currently feeling in regards to your boyfriend, none of your friends could truly understand because they’re all, well…thin. They might be sympathetic to your situation or even relate in some different way, but none of them would wholly understand because they’ve never been viewed in the same light that you are by society. It’s not their fault they don’t understand, it’s just how it is. 
Unfortunately, you’re not as good at keeping your emotions hidden as you thought you were. It’s only a few days before Nancy corners you at your locker.
“Are you okay?” she asks, narrowing her usually wide eyes at you. 
“Fine,” you say with as much forced enthusiasm as possible while you dig around the locker for your biology textbook. 
“For argument's sake, let’s say I believe you,” Nancy says. “Why have you been so quiet lately, then? You seem distracted, like your mind is somewhere else.”
“It’s stupid,” you say to her as you find the book you were searching for.
“Hey,” Nancy says, voice taking on a more serious tone, “no it’s not. Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”
You’ve known Nancy long enough to know she’s truly trying to help you and is determined to find out what’s wrong. You also know that if you tell her that you’re not ready to talk about it, she’ll drop it and respect your wishes. But you have been itching to talk to someone about everything that’s been going on, and the opportunity presented itself to you on a silver platter. 
“After school?” you ask softly. 
Nancy nods. “I’m putting the finishing touches on a story for the paper. I’ll be in there alone.”
When the bell rings signaling the end of school you find her right where she said she’d be. Bent over a few papers, shuffling them back and forth and inspecting them with a small furrow to her brow. As soon as she sees you, though, she moves her work to the side and gives you her undivided attention.
“What’s up?” she asks. 
Trying to buy every second you have before you open your mouth and start to explain your predicament, you make yourself comfortable on the stool across from your friend and situate your bag between your feet on the floor. There’s no more stalling, you realize, as you continue to shift in your seat though. Deep down you know Nancy will be sympathetic and would never intentionally steer you wrong, it’s just the fact that she won’t get it that’s keeping you from spilling your guts. 
“I’m not interviewing you, you know,” Nancy says, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. “You can start whenever.”
“Eddie keeps saying he wants to lift me up.”
The admission just tumbles from your mouth, no preamble, no build-up, just straight to the problem that’s been lying heavy on your heart. 
“Okay…” Nancy drags out the word and she leans in towards you. Clearly, she was expecting more to the story than this. 
“And I told him that he’ll hurt himself and now he’s working out and lifting all these weights to prove that he’s strong enough for it.” For someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to talk about this to begin with, you’re now word vomiting everywhere. Between the speed of your words and the way they seem to come out before being processed in your mind, you’re strangely reminded of how it is to talk with Robin when she’s flustered over something. The thought has you biting back a smile; maybe now you’d give Robin less grief about talking so fast. 
“Why don’t you just let him try then?” Nancy asks.
An internal scream sounds in your head at her question. Of course she doesn’t understand what the big deal is. It’s not her fault, but you also know there are no words you could use to explain it to her to convey how you feel deep down about it. It’s something you either know from experience or not. 
“You’ve seen the two of us together,” you finally respond, voice measured and quiet. “He’s so slender and has some lean muscle, but not enough to lift my fat ass.”
It’s obvious from the way Nancy does her cute little pout that she doesn’t like your comment.
“You are–”
Here it comes, you think. She’s going to say how pretty I am, even though I didn’t say I was ugly–just fat. 
“–stressing yourself out by thinking about this too much. Let Eddie lift his weights. If you still don’t want him to pick you up, tell him. You know he respects your boundaries.”
It’s not what you expected her to say at all, and you admonish yourself for thinking Nancy would be anything less than logical about this. And her logic is sound. You know she’s right, but the emotional part of your brain still isn’t completely satisfied.  
On your way out of the school after talking with Nancy, you pass the weight room and hear someone inside. You peek in the small window cut into the door and spot your boyfriend’s mass of messy curls. He has a barbell over his hips, thrusting them up and down. The sight alone has your knees feeling weak. The motion of Eddie’s hips has you hypnotized for a few moments before you decide to go in.
Eddie isn’t facing the door and he’s wearing headphones, so he doesn’t hear you as you slip in and close the door behind you. Now you can hear the soft grunts that leave his lips with every thrust, and it has you biting down on your lower lip. When you take a step closer, you can hear the music Eddie’s listening to, the song pounding out past the headphones. Even though Eddie doesn’t know you’re there it’s almost as if he’s trying to seduce you. The hips, the grunts, now he’s listening to Burnin’ Up by Judas Priest? That’s the most often played song while the two of you are having sex. 
Deciding it’s fine if you’re perving a bit on your own boyfriend, you watch him while he does a few more reps. As he begins to slow down and finish up, you move to take a seat on the piece of equipment next to him. Eddie grins when he notices you sitting there and tugs the headphones down so they’re hanging around his neck.
“Hey, baby,” he says. “I’d hug you but I’m all sweaty.”
“It’s sexy.”
Eddie laughs at the blunt way you say it. 
“Really?” he asks.
You nod your head and Eddie takes it as an invitation to come over and sit next to you. He wraps you up in his sweaty arms, teasingly wiping his forehead against the shoulder of your shirt. It makes you laugh and you wrap your arms around his damp middle. The black material of his Ozzy shirt is sticking to his skin–and now yours too.
“Gonna go take a shower,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your temple. “Then we’ll go get some food, yeah?”
“Sounds perfect.”
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The next week you’re over at Eddie’s house, on your back with Eddie on top of you as you make out. There’s a long-forgotten shitty horror movie playing in the background, but the cheesy, shrill screams of the victims don’t even register to either of you. 
Rough calloused hands slide down your shirt, moving from your breasts to the hem of your tee, where it’s riding up. Eddie’s skin on yours has you arching your back as his hands travel upwards again. It’s clear that he wants your shirt off and who are you to deny him?
“Bedroom,” you mumble as you break apart just long enough for you to yank your shirt off. Eddie takes advantage of your quick preoccupation with your clothing to scoop you up in his arms, bridal style. “Eddie!” you squeak.
He just chuckles and squeezes you tighter against his body. 
“Maybe now you’ll let me throw you around when I have to punish you for being a bad girl,” he says, a cocky smirk quirking his kiss-bruised lips. 
“A-Are you okay?” you ask, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. “You won’t offend me if you have to put me down.” You’re very aware of his lithe body and how it’s supporting your larger one. This has to be hurting him–right?
“Babe.” Eddie chuckles again and shakes his head. “I’ve been lifting weights that weigh at least double what you do. It feels like I’m holding a feather right now.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you try to determine if he’s lying or not. But the way he holds steady, not seeming to strain or struggle with you in his arms calms your worries. Eddie heads down the hall and carries you into his room and tosses you down on his bed. You land with a bounce and a giggle as he climbs up on top of you. 
His lips attach to your neck as his fingers reach down and fiddle with the button of your jeans. Once it’s popped open and he drags the zipper down, Eddie starts to kiss his way down your body, making sure to press his lips against every part of you that he can. Your chest, your tummy, your hips. When he gets to your jeans, Eddie slides himself off the bed to kneel before you. He makes quick work of getting your pants off and lets out a sinful groan when he sees the wet patch forming on your pale green cotton panties. It encourages Eddie to move even faster as he yanks your underwear off so quickly that you blink and you miss it. 
Eddie dives right in, wasting no time to run his long, talented tongue through your folds. You grip the off-white sheets below you in your fists at his ministrations. The laugh that rumbles through Eddie at your drawn-out groan sends vibrations up your body, only adding to the pleasure. Strong hands wrap around your thighs and pull you even further down the bed so Eddie can get better access to your pussy. His tongue repeatedly flicks over your clit and your eyes practically roll back in your head. Your boyfriend knows exactly how to work you up and bring you to the brink of–
“Hey,” you pout when Eddie pulls back and sits on his heels. “Fuck, Eddie, I was close.”
“I know, angel.” His words are soft and kind despite the mischievous glint in his eye. “But there’s something I need you to do first.”
“What?”
Eddie climbs on the bed and crawls up towards his pillows. He plops flat on his back as he says, “Sit on my face.”
“Eddie,” you say with a breathless laugh. “I’ll crush you.”
“Then I go out doing what I love,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I always told you that you’d be the death of me.” Eddie looks over you with those brown doe eyes and you feel the resolve melting away in your chest. “But seriously, please come here. I already miss how you taste.”
Lifting you was one thing, but this seems like something he couldn’t prepare for by going to the gym. The sincere, pleading look in his eyes tells you that he really wants this, though.
“Are you sure?” you double-check.
“God, yes, please.”
Hesitantly, you shuffle up closer to him and lift yourself up to straddle his face. Bracing your hands on Eddie’s headboard, you still can’t bring yourself to lower your body. Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something to Eddie, your boyfriend wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you flush down against his mouth. 
“Fuck,” you groan. You can practically feel Eddie grinning against your dripping pussy as he gets back to work. After a few moments of making sure Eddie isn’t suffocating below you, you start to relax into it and are able to enjoy the sensations of his tongue leisurely licking up and down your heat. A particularly hard lick to your hole has you letting out a gasp and clutching onto the wooden bedframe hard enough to snap it in half.
“Shit, Eddie. A-Almost there.”
He hums in acknowledgment, even though you didn’t need to tell him. Your body was something Eddie was a quick study in; it didn’t take him long to learn all the little quirks and tells your body gives him when you’re getting close to orgasm. 
“Fuck,” you moan between pants as your breaths become shallower. Sweat slicks your skin as you hurdle towards your peak, body a live wire as Eddie works your body just as flawlessly as he does his guitar. “I-I’m coming, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming.”
Eddie tightens his grip on your thighs as your hips rock against his face. His nose brushes against your clit and it shoots a spark through your body, only heightening your pleasure. 
As the high wears off, you feel boneless and collapse down on the bed next to Eddie. He huffs a breath of laughter and raises himself up on an elbow to watch you recover. Satisfied smirk on his face, Eddie wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. He only gives you a moment longer to catch your breath before he gives you a smack on the ass.
“Hands and knees, baby,” he says. 
Energy not fully recuperated yet, you give him a nod but otherwise don’t move. Eddie’s not having that, though. A strong arm wraps around your waist and yanks you up, causing you to yelp in surprise. As you settle onto your hands and knees like you were told, you peek over your shoulder to see a cocky smirk adorning your boyfriend’s face. He ghosts a feather-light hand up your spine as he leans in to murmur in your ear.
“Told you I’d manhandle you if I needed to.”
There’s hardly enough time for your brain to process his words before he’s yanking your hips backward towards him. The sudden motion has your arms giving out and you drop face-first into his pillow, filling your senses with the citrus-scented shampoo he uses. The husky chuckle that comes from above you lets you know that this is the exact position he wanted you in any way. You let your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the sensation of him dragging his cock up and down your soaked folds. It’s meant to be teasing you–and it is–but you’d be lying if you said the motions didn’t feel amazing.
Eventually, Eddie can’t take his own teasing anymore–he’s so damn hard in his hand now. He lets his cock drag against your clit one last time before he pushes himself into you. A moan gets muffled into Eddie’s pillow as your fingers involuntarily claw at his sheets. If you were facing him, you know you’d see him smirking. The bed begins to squeak as Eddie moves his hips, his own groans tumbling out as he slides further into you with each thrust until he’s finally bottoming out.
“Fuck,” Eddie groans, head falling forward. His hands grip the soft plush skin of your hips hard enough to leave fingerprint-sized marks. You turn your head to keep from suffocating against the pillow, but you know you’d willingly starve yourself of oxygen if it meant Eddie would keep pounding into you like this. “Shit, baby. I’ll never get over how tight you are. God damn, I love your body so fucking much.”
The only response you can manage is a groan, thoughts fleeing from your head with every snap of his hips against yours. His pace begins to pick up and you know he’s getting closer to the edge. But suddenly he pulls completely out of you, leaving you achingly empty. The loss makes you whine as you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend. Words still haven’t come back into your brain yet, so you just questioningly grunt at him, which makes him laugh.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. Your eyes track him as he shuffles up the bed until he’s sitting with his back against his headboard. He pats his thigh and winks at you. “Get over here.”
He doesn’t need to ask you twice. Throwing your left leg over his lap, you whimper as you lower yourself slowly onto his angry and leaking cock. The moment you’ve seated yourself on him, he thrusts his hips up into you, causing you to gasp and clutch onto his pale, freckled shoulders to steady yourself. 
“Fuck!” you cry. “Yes, Eddie!”
The smirk that graces Eddie’s beautiful features is so self-satisfied. Normally, you’d come up with a witty quip or bratty action to wipe that look off his face, but the pleasure coursing through your veins leaves you incapable of coherent thought. 
Eddie wraps an arm around your waist and starts bucking his hips wildly up into yours. 
“Shit,” you all but scream as you drop your forehead down to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “God, Eddie.”
“Think my lifting paid off now, baby?” Eddie asks, smugness dripping in his tone. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your collarbone as you nod and bury your face into his neck.
“Yes,” you mumble against his skin before pulling back so he can understand you. “Yes, shit, your hips are magical.”
A chuckle rumbles through Eddie’s body and he tightens his grip around your waist, holding your body flush up against his. As you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax, your fingernails dig into the delicate skin on Eddie’s back.
“You’re so fucking sexy, baby,” Eddie says. When you don’t acknowledge his statement, he tugs on your hair and forces you to look him in the eye. “Jesus Christ, I love your curves. Every single inch of your body. It’s fucking mine. So perfect, holy shit. How’d I get so lucky?”
“All yours,” you confirm, nodding as much as you can with his hand in your hair. “My body is all yours. Every curve, every i-inch. Fuck, I’m close, Eddie.”
“Me too, sweetheart,” Eddie says between labored breaths. “Come with me.”
“O-Okay,” you stutter out in a whisper.
Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure washes over you as you cling to your boyfriend. The way your walls clench around Eddie’s cock has him coming immediately after you, his hair tickling the skin of your cheek as he drops his head forward to rest against your body. 
“Baby, yes,” Eddie moans as he spills inside of you, hips rutting against yours as he fucks his spend into you. 
When he’s finished, Eddie lifts his head up before dropping it back against his headboard. A satisfied smile is on his lips as he looks at you, rosy cheeks and coated in a sheen of sweat as he tries to catch his breath. Your body collapses against his, breathing just as heavily, and Eddie wastes no time in wrapping both of his arms around you. It’s quiet as the two of you bask in the feelings, both physical and emotional. Eventually, Eddie turns his head and presses a kiss into your hair.
“I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too, handsome.”
“So,” he starts, dotting soft kisses down the length of your neck, “you gonna let me pick you up now?”
It’s not something you even need to think about. “You can do whatever you want if you fuck me like that again.”
The laugh that Eddie lets out has you smiling against his skin. He brings his hand up and lightly trails his fingers up and down your spine. 
“Glad to hear that,” he says. “I think next I want to try lifting you over my shoulder. You know, like firemen do. How’s that sound?”
The question makes you lift your head up to look your boyfriend in the eye. 
“Only if you wear the uniform, too.”
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1K notes · View notes
Text
Should Have Knocked
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Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+
Summary: When you barged into Natasha's room without any warning, your mouth parted at the scene in front of you. You certainly didn't expect to see Wanda grinding her hips unabashedly on Natasha's strap on, her red tendrils of magic wrapped securely around the assassin's hands that were pinned to the headboard.
Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI 18+, Threesome, Being Walked in on, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Dirty Talk, Sub Reader/Dom WandaNat, Aftercare
General Masterlist
---
Staring intently at the knife in your hands, you deftly manoeuvred your fingers in a certain way to have the knife spin between them before letting the blade slip through your fingers to flip through the air before catching it via the handle. A sound of joy escaped you when you successfully caught the metal after flipping it, trying it once again and succeeding before deciding to find Natasha to show her the flip.
A few days ago, you asked the redhead to teach you how to do the trick, in awe of how her fingers skilfully let the knife move within her grasp. You watched her do it multiple times, a little embarrassed when you couldn't get the hang of it before the assassin had to leave you to go to her girlfriend. Now however, you had learnt how to do it and were extremely keen on showing her how well you could do it now.
Swiftly walking through the compound, you made your way to her room, hand reaching for the handle and practically barging right in before freezing on the spot.
Oh.
Oh fuck
Was the series of thoughts that entered your mind when you barged into Natasha's room without any warning as your mouth parted at the scene in front of you. You certainly didn't expect to see Wanda grinding her hips unabashedly on Natasha's strap on, her red tendrils of magic wrapped securely around the assassin's hands that were pinned to the headboard. Your gaze drifted across the exposed skin, Wanda's breasts moving each roll of her hips, Natasha's arms flexing as she tried to fight her girlfriend's magic, desperate to touch her skin and drive her mad with pleasure.
A soft moan that fell from Wanda's lips snapped you back to reality, knife falling to the floor. You had just walked in on Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, and Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, having sex. Two of the most powerful women in the world were having an intimate moment and you were currently staring at them.
Two sets of piercing green eyes then met yours, your face flushing with embarrassment while panic filled you. Your eyes widened as their lust-filled ones stared at you, your hand nervously going to cover your eyes while you other hand reached backwards in search of the door handle.
"I..uh..Iwillbegoingnowbye, sorry!" you blurted out, desperately trying to find this stupid door handle before turning around and trying to rush out of the room. God, you should have knocked.
"Wait Y/n," sinfully groaned one of the women, making your entire body freeze on the spot, arousal flooding through you at the tone of their voice, the way your name fell from their lips. Wait, did one of them actually say your name, or was your mind playing tricks on you? Maybe, just maybe, you had a very, very, very little crush on both of them, how could you not? Natasha was one of the fiercest women you had ever met but she was also kind and extremely smart when it came to thinking of quick solutions on missions. Wanda was also the sweetest woman you had ever met, bonding with you over the sitcoms you both watched whilst also being the most caring person ever, always keen on trying to make you laugh or happy.
"Y/n, come here," Wanda practically whined whilst rolling her hips down on Natasha's lap, her hands moving to grope at her chest while another small sigh left her lips.
Hesitantly, you made your way back to them, eyes firmly fixated on anything but the young Sokovian riding the assassin, the soft moans spilling from her. Whilst trying to think of an apology, you stumbled over an item as you walked over to their bed, eyes casting down to see a red set of lace panties scattered on the floor, a visible wet patch of arousal on them making you groan quietly. The sound, however, was not missed by Natasha who leaned up to Wanda with her signature smirk engraved onto her face, hands now free of the magic. The redhead murmured something lowly into the witch's ear, a guttural moan leaving Wanda's lips as she snapped her eyes back over to your shy and nervous form.
When you reached the bed, you kept your eyes on the floor, not wanting to meet the gaze of either intimidating woman and tried to still have some sort of respect for them. The room filled with a brief silence, you practically able to hear your heart pounding in your chest, ready for them to be angry or upset with you.
"So Y/n, how long did you think you could hide this from us?" taunted Wanda, a sly smirk taking over her face, eyes briefly flashing red while Natasha's gaze turned predatory. Confusion flashed across your face at the question until Natasha continued,
"The lingering looks? The squeezing of your thighs every time one of us would pin you in training? The look of want in your eyes as you practically undressed us with them?" The spy's face was stoic as she looked at you, panic flooding through your body at their words.
"I am so sorry, I didn't mean to be disrespectful-" a finger placed itself on your lips as you muffled the end of your rambling apology against their digit.
"Hush Detka," teased Wanda. "We haven't even gotten to the best bit yet," her accent wrapped around her words sultrily, adding a slight rasp as she let out a small whimper while climbing off Natasha's lap, desperate to feel full again. "There's something Natasha missed in that list, isn't there?" Her naked body came into view, finger pressing into your chin and guiding you to look at her. Your mouth parted as you saw the darkened look in her eyes, eyes raking over your body while her teeth subconsciously bit down on her bottom lip. "She missed those dirty little fantasies you have about us," Wanda purred, Natasha now at your side, strap on discarded, teeth nibbling softly on your earlobe while her fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. You glance over to the assassin, your pupils dilating at the pure hunger in her eyes along with the silent question of taking your shirt off. You nod subtly, the item then being pulled off while Wanda then guides your face back to hers with her finger on your chin once again. "We want to make those fantasies real, is that ok?"
"Yes, please," you practically moaned, Wanda's lips then crashing against yours. You moan at the intensity of the kiss, her hands threading through your hair while Natasha removes the rest of your clothes till you're left in only your underwear in front of them. Your hands hesitantly go to Wanda's waist, her pulling back from the kiss with a smile while Natasha's mouth goes to your neck, littering it in open mouthed kisses making you groan.
"You're so beautiful Kotenok," the redhead husks out, biting down softly on your neck before pulling back to press a hungry kiss to your lips. Her hand turns your face to hers, a little rougher than Wanda did, making you whimper while she smirks into the messy but hot kiss.
Soon, you're guided onto their bed, chest rising and falling with anticipation as both women crawl to your sides, laying down next to you with softer looks in their eyes at your nervous state. Wanda's mouth places open mouthed kisses along your collar bones, fingertips dragging down till they meet your chest, eyes flickering to yours to gauge your reaction.
"Tell us to stop Detka and we'll stop," she tells you, her hand slipping to your back to unclasp your bra before pulling the item off you. Natasha's hand moves further down your body, mouth recapturing yours for a searing kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and dominating it easily. It wasn't like you were putting up a fight.
"You're so wet for us Kotenok," Natasha sighs out against your lips, a small moan leaving you when she circles your clit through your soaked panties. "I bet you've been thinking about this happening for so long," you let out a shaky breath when she slides your panties to the side, Wanda's mouth kissing teasingly along your chest. "Tell me Dorogaya, who was fucking you? Whose fingers were buried deep inside you?" The moan you let out at her words was sinful, mind clouding with pleasure as Wanda finally took a nipple into her mouth, tongue swirling expertly around it.
"Fuck," you groan out, Natasha's fingers swiping through your folds, your arousal coating her fingers as she draws small and slow circles on your clit. "You," you sigh out, the redhead chuckling at your affected state before leaning in to capture your lips again, finger moving down to your entrance and sliding in. A guttural moan escapes you at her long slender digit stretching you open, her finger curling at your weak spots to have you losing yourself in the pleasure. Her fingers lazily stroke inside you, thumb moving to circle your clit while Wanda releases your chest from her mouth, a string of saliva connecting the two together before she pulls further away.
"What was I doing Detka?" Wanda murmurs near your ear, Natasha moving to kiss your neck while Wanda claims your lips.
"You were..." you trail off for a moment, Natasha sliding in another finger effortlessly causing your mind to blank for a moment, "You were riding my face." You see Wanda's eyes widen at your words, Natasha groaning at the crook of your neck, fingers thrusting into you a little faster now. "Please," you practically beg while pleading with her to sit on your face with your eyes. She presses her lips to yours roughly, moaning at your words before pulling away and positioning herself above your face, Natasha's face now at yours.
"Be a good girl and make me come," Wanda husks out, fingers running through your hair as she slowly lowers herself onto your face. Both of you moan at the contact, her moaning at the way your tongue expertly swirls around her clit, hands gripping her thighs and pulling her closer while you moan at the taste of her, and the way Natasha starts to pepper kisses along your inner thighs. You thrust your tongue into the witch, groaning into her at the warm and wet feeling of her pussy clenching around you, moving your hands so that you can circle her clit.
Natasha moves to lick a stripe up your core, you moaning lewdly into Wanda as the assassin's tongue swipes over your clit, her mouth occasionally sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to have you bucking against her face. Her fingers start to pump into you at a merciless pace, Wanda's hands tightening in your hair as she rolls her hips against your face. You decide to flatten your tongue, letting her rut against it while moans spill from her lips.
"Shit that's it Detka, right there," Wanda moans, lolling her head back and showing off her defined jawline and neck, a groan leaving you when you open your eyes to admire her body. Her hips frantically start to rock against your face, Natasha's fingers driving you delirious with pleasure as your orgasm nears. "I'm gonna come-" Wanda cuts herself off with a scream, hips stuttering as her cum drips onto your tongue, a guttural noise leaving you at the feeling and taste of her.
Natasha curls her fingers inside you at the perfect spot, your body tensing as your orgasm rips through your body, a loud moan being muffled by Wanda's thighs around your head. Your legs shake with the intensity of your orgasm, the spy fucking you through it and straight into a second making your mind completely clouded with pleasure. Your body trembles as she lets you ride out your aftershocks, Wanda climbing off your face and softly cupping your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your lips, moaning at the taste of herself while you whimper when Natasha pulls out.
"You did so good for us Detka," Wanda softly whispers, seeing how tired you were becoming after two powerful orgasms tearing through your body.
"We're so proud of you," Natasha adds after sliding one of her digits into her mouth, groaning at the taste of you before offering Wanda the other, a moan escaping her as she hollows her cheeks around her girlfriend's finger, cleaning your arousal off it. You watch with an awed expression, a groan leaving your mouth at the sight.
Before you can worry about whether they want you to stay or not, Wanda snakes her arm around your body, bringing you closer to her and letting your face rest at the crook of her neck, your gentle breaths tickling her skin. Your body jumps a little when you feel Natasha clean you off with a cloth, not wanting you to sleep without being washed a bit and helps her girlfriend before discarding the cloth in the bathroom and returning to the bed with you two in it. Her body slots in behind yours like the lost piece of a puzzle, one of her toned arms wrapping around your waist like Wanda's, her mouth pressing a soft kiss to the base of your neck. Wanda also places a soft kiss to your hair, your body drifting off to sleep in the safety and comfort of their arms while the other two women share a knowing look.
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bg-brainrot · 30 days
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More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.
Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism
A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:
Word count: ~3.2k
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Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.
It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”
Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”
Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”
One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.
“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”
The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”
That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”
“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”
“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”
You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile. 
Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.
Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.
“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.
There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”
“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"
There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.
You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.
“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”
The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”
“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.
Wait, is he actually inviting her?
You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”
There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.
__
That evening, Astarion slips away.
It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.
As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.
But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.
It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.
You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.
“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”
“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”
After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”
“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”
His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.
Almost as if…
“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.
“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.
“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.
He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”
You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”
Normally, such sweet words of unabashed ​​flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.
“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.
“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.
You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”
He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.
“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.
“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.
You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”
Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.
When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.
“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”
“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.
“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”
“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.
Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”
Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.
“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”
“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”
“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”
Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”
You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”
“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.
“A fool for you.”
The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”
“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”
He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.
“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”
“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.
“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”
The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”
This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”
“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.
Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.
“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”
He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.
“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.
Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.
“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”
At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”
“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.
“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”
You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.
“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”
Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”
“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.
He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.
It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.
“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”
The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.
“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.
So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.
No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…
“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.
You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”
“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”
He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”
Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”
“Astarion–”
“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”
If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”
“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”
Oh great, she’d heard everything.
“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.
“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”
“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”
“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”
You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”
“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.
With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence.  When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”
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