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#there are multiple paths you can go down
royalreef · 1 year
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(( Also another reminder that I treat all ships as occurring in their own contained universes/timelines. If a crossover occurs with another ship or muse, I also consider this a different ‘verse, independent from the others. It keeps the timeline easier to remember for me, and prevents things like cheating plots. If I ever send an ask to someone or have a thread with Miranda and a muse discussing another muse, unless otherwise specified, these are considered their own thing and entirely “optional”.
The only real “exception” is the Union Verse, which is considered primarily crack/noncanon to begin with and operates as a low-stakes, low-plot setting to let Miranda’s harem various partners interact.
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dabisqueen · 5 months
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Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader
⇢ word count: roughly 7K
⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.
⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare
⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr
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"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."
They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.
You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin. 
Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.
They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed. 
You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.
You sigh. 
Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.
You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.
After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"
"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"
"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.
He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.
Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.
You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.
What the hell just happened? 
***
The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.
As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls. 
You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look. 
You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows. 
There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.
You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards. 
Alright, here goes nothing.
***
The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.
The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.
Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.
"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.
A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.
"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.
The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours. 
Shit. 
He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants. 
Speaking of bulge. 
It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically. 
Stop it!
You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.
But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams. 
Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.
As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression. 
“Not her again.” You hear him groan.
The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”
"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."
The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”
Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"
“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.
“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.
“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.
You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set. 
“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”
“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.
You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated. 
“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”
“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.
"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”
Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.
The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”
“Dabi, she's the most requested—” 
“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”
You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second. 
“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”
He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”
“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”
Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.
"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you. 
You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.
"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.
"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes. 
The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"
"Yep. Her." His grin widens.
"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"
"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"
"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"
Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.
Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"
"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.
The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"
Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually. 
Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."
"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.
"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"
"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.
"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.
The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."
He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."
He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"
It is your voice.
"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."
"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.
Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"
"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."
"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."
"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."
"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.
"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.
"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"
Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”
"That’s none of your business."
"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."
“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."
“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"
"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.
“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.
"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."
"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.
Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.” 
“You what?" His words leave you stunned.
Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”
His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach. 
“In front of all these people?!" 
“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.
You swallow hard.
"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting. 
You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college. 
This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.
"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.
“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”
Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.
"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take." 
"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”
“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”
“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.
“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.
“Not really.” He winks.
"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”
“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.
"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"
“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.
"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”
He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.
“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both. 
Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.
“Sound?”
“Set.”
“Camera?”
“Set.”
“Roll sound.”
“Sound rolling.”
“Roll camera.” 
“Camera Speed.” 
“Marker.”
A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever." 
Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence. 
You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.
“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.
“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”
“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally. 
You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.
It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—
—but in anticipation. 
“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.
You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.
You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.
You groan—how could a man taste so good?
It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back. 
As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"
The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.
The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.
Holy shit.
He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.
The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.
The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.
“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”
You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear. 
“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”
Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.
“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”
He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. 
It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.
“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”
While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.
"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."
A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place. 
"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"
You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.
“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.” 
His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.
“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes. 
The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands. 
"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."
You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—
—but this just feels so much more intense.
“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass, 
raising your hips to have more access to you. 
“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you. 
You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you. 
“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you. 
“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.
A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung. 
He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.
As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released. 
“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.
With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.
You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes. 
Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.  
Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—
—no.
He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.
It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that. 
Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth. 
“Dabi, please—” you choke out.
Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”
You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones. 
“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.
You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced. 
You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed. 
“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction. 
“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.
“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”
Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.  
"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit. 
“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.
“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”
“I'm not sure,” you whisper.
“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated. 
He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.
“Get ready,” he whispers.
A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.
“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.” 
The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you. 
"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.
There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you. 
“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face. 
“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...
"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that. 
Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently. 
“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”
Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel. 
He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.
“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him. 
“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”
“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.
He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss. 
It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm. 
His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.
Dabi snaps. 
With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.
Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears. 
But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice. 
"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.
Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up. 
“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”
You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still. 
“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”
"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises. 
And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once. 
You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock. 
“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”
You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.
“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.
No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below. 
Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.
You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.
“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”
‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.
You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions. 
“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.
Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.
You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado. 
“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.
Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.
A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.
Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage. 
Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it. 
“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’ 
You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”
“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”
He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.
“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.
“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.
“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.
“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.
When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace. 
“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”
“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”
“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”
4K notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 8 days
Text
what, like it’s hard ? | max verstappen x fem! med student! reader
summary; fans couldn’t help but criticize y/n and her lack of appearances at races. turns out, the girlfriend of their favorite driver has a pretty smart brain
fc; various girls on pinterest
warnings; hate comments, cursing
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
notes; requested ! as a nursing major, i <3 anything to do w reader in the med field 😩
masterlist !
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liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, and others !
yourusername: finally done w this weeks exams, now to study for the next one🤒
maxverstappen1: u gotta check my brain miss future neurosurgeon bc all i think abt is u
yourusername: i’d say your brain is working just fine !😁
yourbestfriend: perks of being a nurse is seeing you drag urself down the halls 🥸🥸
yourusername: see i’m physically there but after 24 hrs im mentally not 😕
username: oh hello
username: HIIAISKAKDKS
username: wait omg ur in med school????
yourusername: yes🤓 i’m omw to being a neurosurgeon, long path but it’s worth it🤍
username: A NEUROSURGEON?!-“;&2@;9???!!’alddk
username: y’all no wonder y/n hasn’t been to races if she’s in MED SCHOOL
username: she’s being miss smartie pants meanwhile u guys were hating 😒😒😒
alexandrasaintmleux: you’ll be the prettiest neurosurgeon ever💓
yourusername: alexxxx🥹🥹❤️‍🩹
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, and others !
yourusername: another busy month + finally a day off! finally spent a day w max after being at the hospital non stop for a month 😴😴😴
tagged; maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend
maxverstappen1: and we made most of that day❤️ love you, dr y/n
yourusername: soon soon, love you my maxie!❤️‍🩹
username: no way a wag goes to harvard med school
yourusername: what? like it’s hard?
username: LEGALLY BLONDE REFERANCE Y/N ILYYYYY🙏🙏
username: stop the first pic is scute🥹🥹
username: do you know how cool it is that seeing a wag as a med student??? it’s my dream to be a doctor, y/n you’re an inspiration!
yourusername: oh my🥹 you’re too kind💓
username: harvard med school to be a neurosurgeon IKTR!!!!
username: me romanticizing nursing school;
username: they could never make me hate on her for not going to races! med school is hard enoughhhh
yourbestfriend: look at us working on the same floor 🥸
yourusername: i fear they’re gonna be sick of us once we get paired together for surgeries
username: imma pretend i need brain surgery so i can meet y/n💆‍♀️
username: poor girl gets one day free a month and was getting hate for not being able to travel to multiple countries for a week💀
username: she’s out here becoming a neurosurgeon meanwhile they’re hating behind a screen ijbolllll
username: y/n would be the coolest neurosurgeon i just know itttt
2K notes · View notes
pandorxxx · 10 months
Text
Another man’s treasure
Neteyam x omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)
Warnings: cursing, oral (reader receiving), p in v, multiple orgasms, neteyam having a size kink, neteyam being “Mr. Steal yo girl” kinda, creampie, marking, scenting.
Listen to Mr. Steal yo girl by Trey Songz for the best experience 😊
Synopsis: You wanted lo’ak, and it was no secret. However, you were scared to talk to him. When you went to Neteyam for help, he made it known that lo’ak wouldn’t be interested in you because of your abnormal (among navi) size. But you soon realized, that what one brother didn’t like, the other one loved…
🔞mdni🔞
“Cant you find something else to do? I don’t have time for this today.” Neteyam chuckled, pushing leaves out of his path as he went to fulfill his duties. This was becoming an everyday thing almost. You’d follow Neteyam into the forest as he did his daily chores just to bug him about the same old shit.
You had a huge crush on lo’ak, and since you and Neteyam were…somewhat friends, you decided that the only way to get in good with lo’ak was with the help of Neteyam. Although he wasn’t much help.
“Neteyam come onnnn. I’ll leave you alone if you talk to lo’ak for me.” You whined, running behind him to keep up with his long strides. You were alittle younger than both of them, but that didn’t stop you from trying. Also, you were alittle smaller than the average female Navi, so you got made fun of sometimes. But you had a “Fuck you” mentality when it came to bullies, you couldn’t care less.
“Why don’t you talk to him, huh? Why are you bugging me about it? I’ve got shit to do y/n.” He spoke calmly, making sure to hold the leaves down for you to walk through. He was such a gentlemen without even trying.
“You know him better than I do. I just figured you could help me out…TEYAM!” You shouted his name, making him halt in his tracks with an irritated sigh. He turn to you, walking alittle closer.
“Y/n please. I don’t have time to get in the middle of this shit. And plus, I personally don’t think that lo’ak would go for this.” Neteyam confessed.
“And why do you think that? I’m pretty, no?” You asked with a hint of aggression, eyebrow cocked as you awaited an answer. He chuckled, crossing his arms.
“You’re very pretty. But you know that’s not what I meant.” He shook his head. Your eyes narrowed, picking up on what he was insinuating.
“Well what DID you mean, Neteyam?” You asked, anger radiating off of your skin. He eyed your small frame up and down in curiosity.
“Fuck, don’t make me say it. It’s very obvious.” He ran his hand through his braids with a loud chuckle. You were now visibly angry, tail swaying high in defense as you clutched your bow. Although you were smaller, you were one of the best warriors here. Some would even say better than the mighty warrior himself, so he knew you meant business.
With a loud sigh, he finally fessed up. “Y/n…you’re tiny as fuck.” He nodded with a sarcastic grin.
“Neteyam, what does that have to do with anything? Huh?” You asked with heavy aggression, shifting your body weight to one hip.
“If I were lo’ak. I wouldn’t even wanna touch you. Might break your little ass.” He joked, however you didn’t find it funny whatsoever.
“Fuck you. I can take any male in this clan, you and lo’ak INCLUDED. Size means NOTHING!” You snapped, poking his chest angrily as you peered up at him. He let out a loud laugh, placing his large hands on your shoulders.
“I promise you, and I mean this in the most humble way possible. You cannot take me, y/n.” He spoke passive aggressively, his tone becoming alittle serious.
“Neteyam, check my fucking stats. I’d have you crying when I’m done.” You growled, smacking his hands off of your shoulders. It was no secret that you’d been with other males before, what girl hadn’t? Though small, you knew exactly how to please a man. And men just like Neteyam would underestimate you all the time…until they got their feel.
“Oh y/n, please. I’ve heard about you, trust me. But I’m a REAL man. Those little boys you’ve been with have NOTHING on me. You hear me? NOTHING!” He growled, jaw clenching in restraint. You laughed in his face, taking a step back to scan his body from head to toe.
“Oh, ok there big boy. Calm down. Did lil ole’ me get under the mighty warriors skin?” You mocked. Neteyam was a man of great restraint, but you were really pressing his buttons today. He let out a deep sigh, before chuckling to himself.
“Don’t make me ruin you for lo’ak.” Was all he said, in that deep tone of his. The one that meant business. The one that created a pool of your own slick in your loincloth. The one that made you shift back and forth experimentally, trying to find some sort of friction.
“A lot of open ended sentences today. Tell me what that’s supposed to mean.” You commanded, arms crossed as you took a step forward.
“You know what it means, don’t act so innocent y/n. And DONT challenge me. I’ll snap you like a twig.” He trailed off, eyeing you up and down. You laughed in his face again, at his sudden sexual advances. It was always lo’ak for you, but Neteyam was just as hot, if not hotter. He was stronger, taller, sexier, and a lot more mature.
“So do it. You have nothing but space and opportunity to show me. If I’m being honest, this sounds like a bunch of bs. I can’t take you seriously in this light, Neteyam. You’re always so uptight.” You teased, hoping that it would make him angry enough to take you, right here…right now. But he quickly caught on to your antics. He stepped closer, until your plump breast met his stomach. Peering down at you with a crooked grin.
“Oh, I don’t know y/n. You’re too small to ride this ride. I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re better off finding lo’ak. He’s more your speed.” He nodded.
“But the things I’d do to you…it’s unspeakable.” He whispered, running his large hand down your torso, all the way to the band of your loincloth. You bit your lip, directing your attention to the scene.
“Tell me about it, I’m all ears.” You spoke sensually, eyes meeting his once again. “Well first…I’d rip this fucking loincloth off of your hips.” He spoke, simultaneously ripping your cloth off. You gasped, finding your balance again from the unexpected force.
“Then…I’d turn you around, and bend you over.” He spoke. His tone low and full of lust as he spun you around, bending you over into a 90 degree angle. Your hands immediately finding refuge on the bark of the tree infront of you. You let out a little giggle as you turned your head to look back at him, waiting for his next move.
“Mmmhm.” he groaned, smacking your ass as he watched your arousal leak out of you like a stream. You let out a small whimper at the impact, so desperate for more.
He kneeled down behind you, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. He licked his lips before diving in. His calloused hands holding your cheeks opened as he devoured you whole.
“G-God, Neteyam!” You whimpered, digging your nails into the bark. He didn’t say anything else to you, didn’t even bother coming up for air. All you could hear was nasally gulps, and squelching sounds followed by low hums of satisfaction from him.
You could feel his tongue flicking, sucking, and gnawing on your sensitive clit before licking all the way up to your ass, giving it a small peck. And then he would go back to work on you. Your legs were starting to shake as your whines increased in volume.
“I-Im sooo close.” You spoke in exhaustion from holding yourself up. He hummed in response, wiggling his head as you used the flat of his tongue to taste you completely. This in turn, sending you over the edge. Without much warning, you released into his mouth. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but his strong hands held you in place as he lapped up your juices. All of your essence dripping down his jaw and neck.
“This pussy tastes like heaven, baby.” He chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before standing to his full height behind you.
“I want you to stay juuust like this for me. Think you can do that?” He asked as he untied his loincloth from around his his gently. You nodded in response, feeling his tip graze past your slit on the way up to slap his stomach.
He grabbed his cock, using the tip to play with your clit. “Mmm…” You hum, leaning your cheek against the bark as you watched him with desperate eyes.
With little to no warning, just a devilish smirk, he slide into you slowly. His cock was stretching you out more than you’d ever been, yet it felt like the perfect fit once he bottomed out. You let out a series of loud whimpers once you felt his tip probing at your cervix. That was a feeling you’d never had before.
“I know, baby. I know…” he moaned, thrusting into you slowly to get you used to his size. His large hands trailed all the way up your back, giving it a light rub before finding their way to the back of your neck.
“You’re s-sooo big!” You whined, knuckles turning white from the grip you had on the bark infront of you. He didn’t know what it was about your cries that turned him on so much. Maybe it was the fact that you were a tough girl, and seeing you so helpless at the hands of him made his head spin.
And as much as he loved to make fun of how small you were, he secretly loved it. The comparison of you to him had him aroused from the start. He was a relatively big guy, very strong, and muscular from his endless training. And although you were a warrior too, you simply didn’t look like one. You were very fragile…delicate to him. And he loved that he could have his way with you.
“Mhm, keep talking.” He growled, now picking up the pace. His warm sack smacking against your sensitive clit, creating the right amount of friction. On top of the constant pounding to your sweet-spot. You couldn’t even form a complete thought at this point. The pleasure was consuming you. And at that point, you realized that you’d never had sex like this. Neteyam had proven to you why he was the better choice.
“I-I can’t even….I-I d-don’t- FUUUCK!” You rambled. So flustered that you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. He let out a breathily chuckle, rutting into you like he’d never see you again.
“Ok! ok! ok! I-I can’t take this shit. y-you’re killing me, Teyam!” You whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You were on the verge of such an intense orgasm, unlike anything you’d felt before. It was becoming too much for you to handle.
“But you’re so fucking close, baby. I can feel the way you’re squeezing me, sucking me in. I thought you could take me?” He spoke in a condescending tone, the same devilish grin plastered across his face as he watched your plump ass ripple with every thrust.
“I-I can’t take you! I CANT!” You whimpered, tears blurring your vision. He slowed down for you, just alittle, but not nearly as much as you needed. You began to gnaw at the bark in desperation, just trying to find some relief from your incoming orgasm.
“And why can’t you take me? I wanna hear this shit.” He spoke in a low tone, shifting his hands to your hips for more leverage. He began to thrust into you slow and deep, nearly knocking the wind out of you with every stroke.
Oh, how he loved this. He knew why you couldn’t, he just wanted to hear you say it. Hear you tell him how strong, and how big he was. It was an ego boost for him, and to have you completely drunk off of his cock was a huge turn on.
“Mmm t-oooo big. Way t-too big!” You spoke deliriously, legs beginning to shake as that knot in your stomach started to unravel. Your walls clenched around him before releasing your essence. You let out a series of loud moans, just like music to his ears.
“Thaaats right, baby. Cum on this big dick.” He moaned, smacking your ass with his bottom lip in between his teeth. His cock began to twitch Inside of you, signaling that he was about to cum. So instead, he pulled out of you quickly with a loud groan. He held your hips in place so that you wouldn’t fall as he caught his breath.
“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. You managed to turn around in his embrace, leaning your back against the bark of the tree lazily.
“Y-You didn’t-“ you began, before he lifted his finger to silence you. “Don’t worry about me. I just wanted to give you alittle taste. I don’t wanna hurt you.” He confessed, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.
“What if I want you to hurt me?” You spat, bringing him flush to you by his hips. He cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but mostly curiosity.
“Give me your all, Neteyam. Give me everything, please. Even if we have to go at it all fucking night. I want more than a taste.” You spoke sensually, wrapping your arms around his waist before planting a kiss on his chest.
“Fuck, don’t talk like that. Please.” He chuckled, rubbing your arms lovingly as he stared down into your desperate eyes.
“And what about lo’ak, huh? I thought you had a thing for him an hour ago.” He asked playfully, already knowing that lo’ak was the farthest thing from your mind at this point.
“I want you now. Is that a crime?” You asked, not even letting him answer the question before you stood on your tippy toes, engaging in a passionate kiss with him. His hand found the back of your head, gripping your hair to deepen the kiss. The other hand snaking around to lift you up, pinning you to the tree behind you. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, and your arms around his neck.
“Mmm, take this off.” He spoke between kisses, referring to your top. You backed away from him slightly, leaning all the way back on the bark. He watched you intently, as you began to untie your revealing top. It popped open with the last knot, revealing your plump breasts. And just like a man, he licked his lips as his eyes locked to your chest.
“Fuuuck me.” He groaned before attacking your nipples. Gently gnawing at them to create love bites, and running his warm tongue around your areola. He nuzzled his head in your chest with low groans of satisfaction as he scented you. Everyone would know who you belonged to from here on out.
Without warning, he lifted you up by your ass, and slammed you down on his cock. You both moaning in unison. He immediately set a merciless rhythm, impaling you over and over again roughly.
“Oh great mother, yessss!” You praised, squeezing your eyes shut as your voice rippled through the forest due to his unbearable pace.
“Mmm, keep screaming like that.” He demanded, thrusting into you harder, knocking the air out of your lungs with every stroke. There wasn’t much else you could say, you were completely silenced.
“I-I..” you stuttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You let your head find refuge on the bark behind you, revealing your unscathed neck to Neteyam…big mistake for such a territorial male like himself.
He bent down to your neck, taking a deep breath before flashing his fangs. He grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Without anymore hesitation, he bit down on your neck gently. Still hard enough to leave a mark.
“Oh my-“ you started, your head going completely limp on the bark behind you. You could feel another orgasm building deep in your stomach.
“B-Baby, Im so close. Sooo so close!” He moaned, watching your breast bounce from his hard thrusts. He was slowly loosing it, and he couldn’t contain himself much longer. He could feel his stomach muscles tense repeatedly, which is something that’s never happened to him. Beads of sweat began to roll off of his frowned forehead. His mouth was slightly agape, low whimpers falling from his lips. And at that moment, he realized he’d never had sex like this.
“FUCK!” He growled, his hand slapping against the bark behind you as he bounced you on his cock quickly.
“Give it to me, pleaseeee!” You screamed, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly, leaning your head on his shoulder. Your body began to tremble in his arms as your toes curled. You couldn’t hold it anymore. Your peak was nearing quickly.
“Ladies first. Cum on this dick again, baby.” He whispered in your ear, kissing the lobe gently. The act alone sending you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back, jaw slack as you released on him for the second time. Loud squelching sounds filling the forest as his cream coated cock slid in and out of you. He could feel your walls contracting around him, and he just couldn’t hold it any longer. “Ohhh, shit! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He chanted, releasing his seed deep into your empty womb with a loud groan.
“Don’t be sorry, I-I wanted it. Juuust like that!” You whined, rolling your hips into his to bury his seed deeper into your tight cunt. You both took a few minutes to catch your breaths before he pulled out slowly.
“Mmmhm…” He hummed, watching his excess cum drip to the ground beneath you. For a moment, you two stared at each other in awe, completely whipped by one another.
He had his mind made up, and it seemed as though you had changed yours. Neteyam was the only man you wanted from now on….
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melancholyhigh · 8 months
Text
ALL MINE.
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ft. leon x f!reader
synopsis. you realize you're in love with your roommate. it sucks that he's ignoring you all of a sudden.
content. 4.7k words. smut. slight jealousy/possessiveness, subby leon, dry humping, handjob, finger sucking, praise & degradation kink, unprotected p in v (riding), overstimulation, creampie, slight subspace.
note. i had mental anguish while writing this so i apologize if it's not my best. i'm also sorry for being so inactive :((
masterlist. i love feedback & reblogs <3
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Leon S. Kennedy was probably the best roommate you could’ve asked for.
He had fit the criteria you hand conjured for the perfect housemate the first time you met. Leon was calm, and the apartment was pretty clean. From what you can tell, he cared enough about himself and his surroundings. 
Hell, the place looked almost uninhabited save for some trinkets and a few bits of his personality sprinkled about.
Only if you had known what you were getting yourself into when you had agreed to become his roommate.
–-
The first month of residing with Leon was great. You rarely crossed paths and never really communicated with each other due to how stressful looking for a new job was, and then proceeding to attend said job was tiring enough for you to make little social interactions.
He was relatively closed off as well. Not talking to you unless necessary or common courtesy such as a simple ‘Good morning.’
After you settled in, you noticed how much of a strange man Leon was. For one, when he did go to work, he left for weeks at a time, and in his return, he was even more closed off somehow. Leon doesn’t spare you a glance or a greeting, only grunting if you ask if he is alright.
He’s also covered in bruises and bandages, leaving you more concerned.
It made you question who really was your roommate.
In the first meeting you and Leon had, you inquired about his job, mostly to try and figure out how your schedule would work, but also with genuine interest. At the time, he merely shrugged, not answering your question point blank, telling you not to worry about it. 
He mentioned his past job as a police officer. You’d dare to ask him more about it, but you didn’t want to pry, leaving the questions for another day.
Lately, you’ve been wishing more than ever that he had answered the question instead of dodging it. In rare moments that you focus on anything else but your job, it often leads you to think about Leon and what he does while he’s away.
It annoys you too that he doesn’t tell you when he’s leaving. He doesn’t owe it to you, but some nights you think he’s getting a drink, only to return a few days later bloodied and bruised.
One night, your overthinking got the worst of you after Leon returned to your apartment in the worst condition you’ve seen in the past few months you’ve been living with him.
Up late, you were in the shared living room, wondering when he’d get home. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Leon. It was way longer than his usual business days. You had been worrying nonstop, not getting a wink of sleep. Was he dead? You’d be the first suspect on the list.
You had called him multiple times, all going to voicemail. That is until you heard the faint creaking of the front door. There he walked in, faced all fucked up. His lip busted, sporting ugly yellow and purple bruises all over the exposed flesh of his body, and a bandage wrapped around his left hand blotted with dry blood.
He was awkwardly shuffling into the room, trying not to wake, you presume. A bit late for that. 
“Where the hell were you, Leon?” your voice breaks the early morning silence. 
You see him jump slightly in surprise, almost dropping his bag. A different emotion washes through him. A mix of fright and guilt, it’s different from what you’re used to seeing him with.
Leon quickly composes himself, going back to his stoic expression. Taking his shoes caked in mud off at the front door, resting his bag down, he walks over to the kitchen opening the fridge. The light streams out, illuminating the kitchen as you follow him, awaiting an answer.
“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?” His back is turned to you, rummaging through the contents of the fridge.
“You’ve been gone for two weeks,” you stress with exhaustion, eyeing his injuries. “What the fuck happened to you.”
He flexes his broad shoulder before turning around to face you. His gaze pins you down before he’s back to ignoring you as he chugs the cold bottled water in his grasp. The fridge is still open, and it adds more nuisance within you.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs. He finally shuts the fridge close, only the moon’s light filtering into the room. “Why do you care, anyways?”
“‘Cause when you go missing, I’ll be the one locked up, Leon,” you say. He’s staring at you, trying to suppress a smirk. 
“You sure it’s not ‘cause you like me? I’m here to stay.” Is this fucker teasing you? He’s nothing like you first met him. Maybe it’s the blood loss. But to be fair, this is the first proper conversation you’ve had with him in months — you didn’t know how he actually was. 
Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, shifting your focus to his bandaged hand, blood seeping through the fabric. 
“Let me take a look at that, please,” you urge, taking his hand into yours. You overlook the questions blooming in your mind to tend to his injury.
“Okay.”
You turn the lights on, searching for a first aid kit. Once you retrieve it, you’re back in front of Leon, who’s sat patiently at the dining table. 
You roll the sleeves of your sweatshirt up before carefully peeling the fabric sticking to his bloody skin. The large gash on the back of his hand makes you uneasy. It’s deep, almost to the bone, and blood spills onto his pale skin.
“Your stitches reopened,” you tell him, cleaning the wound with a damp cloth. What did he do to warrant such an injury? “If it worsens, you need to go to the hospital.” 
“Mhm, you work with patients?” You shake your head, wrapping the wound with fresh gauze. 
“What’s your job, then?”
You scoffed, “Some office job. What’s got you busy, huh?”
“Some government bullshit.”
–-
That night the relationship you had with your roommate shifted. For the better, you supposed. 
You also bonded better with him the following morning while driving him to the hospital. He was so dramatic, yet he continued to undermine his clearly serious injury, refusing to go. The bleeding had not stopped, and you were worried it could get infected.
He was such a baby. You had bargained with him for his own health, promising to do his chores for a whole month so his hand doesn’t get amputated. 
You never really did figure out what his job was, but you guessed it was most likely confidential. It was a vague answer to your question. He could be lying, but once you’re not behind bars, you can’t complain.
You and Leon spent more time with each other.
Even though you had no idea what his job was, he did tell you why he couldn’t disclose such information, something along the lines of putting your safety in jeopardy. Wasn’t him as your roommate just as dangerous? But you didn’t bother. He had his reasons.
Leon, on the other hand, probably learned too much about you and your job. 
You weren’t familiar with the city or the people, so it was nice to talk to someone, and you may have gone overboard. You were here for a better quality of life, and it was significantly better than where you previously lived. 
You loathed your job. Your co-workers were so condescending and passive-aggressive. Not to mention, you couldn’t quit. It paid enough for you to shut your mouth. Well, not to Leon.
You’re sure he’s sick of you talking and complaining. And when you’re not complaining, you both still get along about other stuff. You mostly banter, though, because Leon is such a child.
The guy can barely care for himself, contradicting what you initially thought about him. You care for him most nights after his so-called ‘missions.’ You rebandage his wounds, scolding him for not caring about himself while he’s looped up on pain meds.
Any other night — when he’s actively not trying to get killed, and you’re not incredibly busy — you both get drunk to attempt to forget about responsibilities. Often you were spouting drunken, nonsensical rambles as Leon somehow listened to.
Ironically enough, Leon cared about your well-being more than you do. Maybe you’re delusional, but you swear he does more than a normal roommate should. It’s because you’re constantly checking up on him, you reasoned. He’s just a respectable person.
But what kind of roommate consistently asks about how you’re going? What roommate get you your favourite takeout when you’re not feeling your best? What roommate threatens to beat the shit out of your annoying co-workers?
But you’ve acknowledged that Leon wasn’t your average housemate. Not just his job, but who the fuck looks that good when they’re bleeding out?
–-
Your job has a celebration upcoming, the company’s 50th anniversary. You barely made it a year working for the place, but you want to make a good impression. You also don’t want to bore yourself to death, so why not coerce your lovely roommate to join you as your plus one?
“I’m not gonna go. Don’t you hate that place?” You stare up at him, sulking. 
“Good impressions,” you say before pleading, “C’mon, Leon, please. We can go to the bar after.”
He gives you an unimpressed look before turning away from you.
“I’ll pay for you.” You’re going to go broke because of this man. It catches his attention. 
“So desperate,” he chuckles.
“You’re going?”
“I’m gonna run you dry.”
–-
You definitely weren’t prepared to see Leon in a suit when you exited your room. He’s sat on the couch, his hand nervously running through his hair — notably slicked down with gel. 
“You that serious about making me go bankrupt?” You voice jokingly, breaking Leon out of his thoughts.
His eyes trail along your body, admiring the dress you wore — how it hugs the curves of your body — noticeably gulping as he stands up. The black suit fits his body, accentuating his broad physique and nice ass.
“I keep my promises. I hope you do too.” He says, before mumbling, “You look nice as well.”
You smile at him, ignoring the unusual feeling blooming in your stomach.
The event was indeed incredibly bland. You’re glad you bribed Leon into joining you. He’s been your saving grace. His sly quips and awful jokes have made the experience increasingly more bearable.
Your enjoyment seemed to fizzle when your co-workers wanted to converse with you. They never did before. Why would they now?
Then you realize too late that they’re not here for you. They’re there for the attractive male next to you. You watch in amusement as the girl blatantly ignores you in favour of Leon.
She’s sweet, you’d imagine, but Leon looks awkward, and there’s an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut as she squeezes his arm in a flirting manner. The feeling is unlike what you’ve felt earlier.
You could go for a drink right now. 
The poor girl’s attempt at seducing Leon goes on longer than you’d like. He’s uncomfortable, and you admire her persistence, but it’s getting on your nerves.
Didn’t she get the memo? He’s your plus one.
You decide to interrupt their conversation, you’re not particularly proud of it, but you want to get drunk. Maybe you’re doing Leon a favour as well.
You pull him away, not offering an explanation, just the promise of getting wasted. 
When you’re at the bar, you both get settled, conversing and taking shots, all on you, of course.
Leon mentions that he understands why you hate your job and colleagues, and you laugh lightly at his claims. While you two talk, a few guys approach you, trying to get your number or asking to buy you a drink, ignoring Leon.
It wasn’t a usual occurrence, but it happened more often than not. And even though you find it flattering, it did begin to irritate you.
You politely declined their requests with an uncomfortable smile on your lips. It felt wrong to indulge in their proposals in front of Leon.
Leon’s eyes gleam with an unknown emotion as another guy approaches you. His grasp on the glass tightens, and it looks like it's about to shatter.
You once again deny the request. As you get more tipsy, your filter worsens as you half-heartedly refuse the poor guy. He walks away, visibly irritated. 
“That’s the fifth guy to ask for your number,” Leon states, taking a swig of his whiskey. His grip on the glass loosens, but his shoulders are still tense. 
You roll your eyes at his over-exaggeration. His suit’s jacket is off, revealing the white button-up shirt underneath. 
“I wasn’t interested. A few girls asked you out, too,” you declared bitterly. You’re not drunk per se, just very tipsy. 
“They’re not my type.”
“What’s your type?” Taking a sip from your drink, you observe Leon shake his head before downing his glass.
“Having fun?” you inquire, and Leon’s grateful you changed the topic.
“Liquor’s better when it’s free.”
–-
It’s the next day, and you haven’t seen Leon since. 
When you woke up, you had a pounding headache. You walked into the kitchen expecting to be greeted by an equally shit-faced Leon, but he was nowhere to be found. It was unlike him.
Usually, he’s already making fun of you for being a lightweight, and you attempt to make breakfast together. He’s probably still in bed. He did drink more than expected. It was a miracle you both got home in one piece.
You took some painkillers before heading back to bed. If you’re up to it, maybe you’ll make breakfast later. 
A few hours have passed, and still no sign of Leon. You wonder if he went to work, but that didn’t make sense. Why would he go to work with a hangover? Leon was a bit careless, though.
He was most likely ignoring you. That would be the last thing you wanted. He was the only person you cared to talk as pathetic as it sounds. Did you say something last night that upset him? He was his usual self, but you probably were too drunk to notice something off.  
He probably has work-related things to worry about. Not everything was about you. Though, you were still concerned.
You had camped in the kitchen for a while, waiting for Leon so you could confront him. You wanted to make sure he was alright.
When he did enter the kitchen, you tried to start a conversation, only for him to dismiss you entirely. He refused to respond to your troubles, getting what he needed and returning to his room. 
You thought it was a one-off thing, but sadly it wasn’t. Leon ignored you the following days, leaving you perplexed. You wished Leon would talk to you about what’s going on. Isn’t that what friends do? Communicate? Every attempt you tried to make was fruitless.
All he’s been doing was ignoring you, and it broke your heart.
His sudden indifference reminded you of when you first moved in. This abrupt disinterest in you left you staring at the ceiling in your bedroom, reflecting on your relationship with Leon. 
You despise how he’s been acting lately. 
You despise his reckless behaviour. You despise his hair that falls so perfectly. You despise how considerate he is. You despise how sweet he is to you. You despise how attractive he looks when he walks about the place shirtless, in short shorts that barely contain the flesh of his thighs and lay low on his hips when he’s sweaty after working out.
You despised how other girls looked at Leon. You despised how other guys looked at you, wishing it were him.
But you don’t hate him, far from it.
You loved his company. From the first night to the night at the bar. You wouldn’t want him to share that with anyone else. He was familiar, so it hurts that he’s been ignoring you. 
He’s treating the moments you’ve had with him seemingly worthless, the time you’ve shared — the late nights when you cared for him. The insecurities you have confided with him. Did it mean anything to him?
He most likely wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you doubt he could. His job explains itself, but you’re still worried as a friend — as his roommate.
Your overthinking has got the best of you, and fuck it. You’re going to confront Leon, whether he likes it or not.
–-
You’ve been building the courage to knock on his door for 20 minutes, pacing back and forth in front of his room door. You didn’t want to make him hate you more, but his bitchy attitude made you wonder why you even liked him in the first place.
Knocking on his door, you instantly regretted it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but you had to face him sooner or later. The door surprisingly opens, presenting you with a tired Leon dressed in nothing but his boxers. You probably just woke him up.
When you meet his soft gaze, his brows furrow, and he scowls. It’s been a while since he’s looked at you, so you can take what you can get. 
“What do you want?” Leon dully asks, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he leans on the door’s framing. Okay, so he’s talking to you after a week of silence, granted, not like he used to, but it’s something.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” you counter bluntly, glaring at him. His facade crumbles, shoulders dropping as he frowns. He quickly recovers, scoffing and looking anywhere but at you.
“What are you talking about–” 
“I’m not a dumbass, Leon. Just why? Are you okay?” you quickly cut off his poor excuse of a response. He shakes his head, his messy hair concealing his eyes as he tries to reply.
The look you’re sending him gives him goosebumps as if you’re reading him with just a glance. You are, and it’s terrifying yet so arousing that you can do so easily. Your eyes don’t leave him, trying to figure out his problems. It’s equally arousing how much you care for him, looking through him like he’s glass. 
His composure crashes, stuttering an answer you’re unable to pick up. You stare at him, confused at his sudden nervous behaviour. 
Leon’s selfish for wanting you all to himself. He doesn’t want to hurt himself with the rejection that you may throw his way. He doesn’t want to feel like that even though your actions say otherwise. He wants to tell you that, but what he says is much more pathetic.
“God, it’s you,” he repeats. The look of disappointment that crosses your face hurts. It hurt that he’s the one that made you look so broken so quickly.
“What?” Your voice falters, but you’re curious despite the ache in your chest. You’re not surprised. Maybe, a bit shattered.
“Not like that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he tries to formulate his words, a blush dispersing on his pale cheeks. 
“I was fucking mad, okay? Not at you– never at you. I hated how those guys looked at you. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. You’re my roommate, for fucks sake, but–” He continues to ramble on, and the words he spews give you whiplash. 
You’re simultaneously flattered by his words and pissed. He was acting like a prick because he was jealous. As much as you were annoyed by his immature behaviour, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach.
You impulsively crash your lips into his. He stops his rambling, startled, before melting into the kiss, his long lashes fluttering close. His plush lips move softly against yours. The kiss is soft and much better than either of you could’ve imagined.
Pulling away from him, you catch your breath, huffing, “You dumb boy.”
His cheeks darken in colour, the blush leading to the expanse of his chest. He grips your hips, tugging you closer to his body. You feel his dick hardening in confined in his boxers, pressed to your lower stomach.
“Fuck,” Leon gasps softly. You tuck strands of hair behind his ear, your nose bumping together as you admire his pretty face.
“All that from a little kissing?” you breathed against his bruised lips, your fingers toying with the waistline of his boxers. “You want me to help you, baby boy?”
“Yes, please.” 
You frown, moving away from his hold. His face falls, his brows furrow in confusion as he pouts. “C’mon, Leon. You really think you’re going to get to cum that easily after ignoring me?”
“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please touch me. I– I’ll be your good boy,” he pleads, moving back closer to you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. 
“Okay, sweetheart. You’ll get to cum if you behave.”
He captures your lips in a quick kiss, moaning softly before pulling away. He takes your hand, leading you into his bedroom, and you observe the new surroundings. Even though you’ve been roommates for nearly a year, you never saw the inside of his room. Posters of bands you weren’t familiar with were on the walls of his room. 
“On the bed, baby,” you coo, and Leon shuffles on the navy blue sheets of his bed, leaning against the headboard. You crawl onto the soft sheets, straddling him as you seat yourself on his plush thighs. His warm palms shoot to rest on your waist, softly squeezing them.
He tugs you closer to him, pressing your chest flat against his. Leon gasps softly, his nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of your tank top.
“S’much better than I imagined,” he sighs, guiding your hips so your clothed cunt drags along his prominent bulge. He groans, feeling your cunt dripping, soaking through your panties and shorts. 
You move back from him, halting your movements on his hardening cock as you’re sat on his thighs once more. Your hands grip his arms, and even though he’s stronger than you, he ceases his motion. It’s so fucking hot how this huge man submits to you. 
“You’ve thought about me in your lap?” you tease, palming his erection through his boxers. The head leaks precum, staining the delicate fabric. “Playing with your pretty cock?”
“Mhm,” he whines softly, bucking his hips to your warm touch. His head tilts back, knocking the wooden headboard quietly as he writhes at your touch. 
“Ohh, you poor thing. Cummin’ in your hand wishing it was mine,” you mock, pulling Leon’s boxers down to reveal his throbbing dick flushed pink. It aches for your touch, twitching and smearing his precum on the dark curls on his happy trail.
“Fuck, yes.” Leon whimpers when you wrap your digits around his cock, squeezing it, oozing more precum, coating your fingers as you stroke him slowly. His hips eagerly thrust to meet your movement.
“So, so pretty.” The blush on his cheeks somehow deepens at your words. His head is spinning, and not just from your touch. He roughly grips his silken sheets, bunching them up. You thought he was pretty?
“God, baby, you’re the prettiest.” 
Fuck, had he said that out loud? 
His back arches as he nears his orgasm, pleasure rushing through his body. His thighs tremble as he spills his cum, coating your hand. You don’t stop tugging on his weeping cock, living for the little cries he makes from being overstimulated.
“Don’t, m’ sensitive– shit,” Leon whines, and you finally take your hand off his spent dick, admiring his cum dribbling onto your fingers. Leon props himself up, chest heaving as he tries to collect himself.
“Did I say you could cum?” you tease. Leon’s eyes widen for a second before pleading for forgiveness.
“I- I didn’t mean to. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll be your good boy.” He sniffles softly, and you take pity on his cries. You’ll punish him another time.
“It’s okay, honey. Can you open wide f’me?” you say. Leon does as he’s told, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out. You wished you could take a picture. 
You place your index and middle finger on his tongue, pressing down. Leon wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking his cum off them. Moaning softly, he peers up at you through his lashes and gags when you push your fingers further down.
“You’re such a slut, Leon,” you say, pulling your fingers out his mouth, lips slicked with his spit. You flicked his nipples, causing him to moan loudly. His cock is beginning to harden once more.
“I’m your slut.”
“Think you can go one more round, baby?” you asked, hovering over his rock-hard cock, before sinking down. Your drenched pussy through your thin shorts stimulates his overly sensitive dick, and he groans softly, squeezing your waist.
“Wanna take care of you too, angel,” he murmurs into your ear as you grind yourself onto his erection. “Can I eat you, please?”
“Maybe next time, honey.”
“Fuck, okay. Can you kiss me?” You press your lips to his softly, and he whimpers sweetly into your mouth. Pulling away from him, you take your shorts and panties off, and they’re fucking drenched. Leon tugs your tank top off, and you giggle at his eagerness.
Your body, so soft and warm, is pressed against Leon’s. It’s almost enough to make him cum, and he’s not enough inside you yet. You slide your dripping cunt along his shaft, ensuring he’s fully hard. Leon fucking whines each time the tip of his cock nicks your entrance, begging to plunge in.
Every time the tip nudges your clit, your cunt clenches, and each flutter sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Please, angel. Fuck me. Use me– I don’t care. ‘M all yours.” You guide his cock to your entrance before finally sinking down slowly. The tip enters you with a soft moan. He’s so fucking thick. Once fully sheathed in you, you grip his shoulders for support.
“You’re all mine to use, right? F- Fuck, you’re stretching me so good, Leon.”
Your tight walls hug him so tightly, and when you bounce on his cock, each drag of his sensitive dick adds to the building pressure in his tummy. He filled you so good, reaching spots you didn’t think were possible as you used him like your toy.
Leon thrusts his hips to meet your pace, your ass slapping his thighs, making obscene sounds. He can’t get enough of you. From your tits bouncing as you rode his cock, or the expression you hold when he hits that special spot. 
It’s so much better than he has imagined.
He rubs your clit with his thumb, a broken whimper leaving him when your gummy walls clench around him tightly. The pressure in his tummy was rising, and you were no better as he played with your clit.
“‘M so close, sweetheart. Can I cum in you, please?” he pleads, his hips stuttering to meet each of your moves. His pink lips parted, eyes barely stayed open, and he looked utterly ruined.
“Yes, baby.” You trail kisses along his neck, sucking marks along the column of his throat. You’re pleased with yourself that you’re the reason he has those marks now. Each bruise you suck on his flesh adds another butterfly to his tummy. He’s all yours now.
“Cum with me, please.”
After a few more thrusts, the pressure within him bursts he cums inside you, filling you with his warm seeds. You climax along with him. Your cunt spasms around his sensitive cock, gushing its arousal, clinging to his happy trail.
You collapse on top of him, your head falling on his shoulder. Leon kisses the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. You try to get off to clean yourself and Leon up, but arms encircle your waist, preventing you from doing so.
“Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t want you leaving.”
You comply, laying with him, your skin, sticky with sweat and cum, clings to his as you both enjoy each other’s embrace.
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4K notes · View notes
itadorey · 8 months
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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 & 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒
pairing: neuvillette x gn!reader summary: the melusines are on a mission, you just don't know what their end goal is. (hint: it's to get you and neuvillette together). furina may or may not be involved. genre: fluff notes: pls ignore the fact that melusines live in the water when it gets to the rain. i just thought it'd be a cute scene and i forgot that they would be fine in the water. we can pretend they just don't want to get their uniform wet. i'm also not sure if the cafe serves tea bc i know they sell coffee beans oops. wc: ~3.6k
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A huff escapes you as you approach the doors to the Palais Mermonia, late for work and stumbling slightly as you reached for the handle.
"Please wait! Can you open the door for me?"
You pause when you hear Liath calling after you, and you turn to see the Melusine hurrying towards you. She's carrying two boxes in her hands, making it impossible for you to see her face until she comes to a stop next to you.
"Liath!" you gasp, holding open the door with your foot as you reach for one of the boxes. "Let me help you with that."
"Thank you! They are pretty heavy," she chimes, proceeding to stack the other box on top of the one you're currently holding. You're taken aback by her actions, giving her a confused look as she looks up at you and smiles. "I hope you don't mind dropping those off to Monsieur Neuvillette. I have some other duties to fulfill!"
Your eyes soften at her words, and you nod in agreement before shifting the boxes, making sure you have a good grip on them. The lid on the top box is askew, giving you a glimpse of some court documents sitting inside. You quickly fix the lid, glancing over at Liath to see her standing by the door, hands behind her back as she hums to herself. Your brows furrow when you notice that she doesn't make a move to leave, and you can't help but feel confused about her abnormal behavior.
"You should go before it gets too late in the afternoon to complete your other duties," you say softly, earning a confused look from Liath.
"What other duties?" she asks, a hand coming up to her cheek as she gets lost in thought. She gasps softly before meeting your gaze, her hand dropping to her side as she took a step back. "Oh! Yes, you're right. Thank you for bringing those to Monsieur Neuvillette. Bye!"
You watch Liath skip away, following her usual path around the Palais Mermonia. There's still a confused look on your face, and you merely shake your head before nudging the door open even further with your foot. You're still thinking about Liath's weird behavior when Sedene greets you.
"Good morning, Sedene," you greet in return, giving the Melusine a soft smile. "Is Neuvillette back yet?"
"Yes! He's been waiting for you!"
A stressed look appears on your face, and Sedene's eyes widen slightly as you glance towards Neuvillette's office.
"He has?" you ask, earning a nod from the Melusine in return. "Oh. I guess he really wants these court records huh? I hope he isn't too upset that I'm late."
"No, no," Sedene says, shaking her head back in forth to emphasize her words. She gives you a soft smile. "He's waiting for you, not the court records."
"Me?"
Sedene nods, and you can only hum in response before giving her a small nod and walking away. You pause as you reach the doors to Neuvillette's office, shifting the boxes so that they rest on your hip before raising a hand to knock.
"Come in."
"Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette," you say as you slip into his office and shut the door behind you. Your head is slightly bowed down, the respectful gesture preventing you from seeing the way Neuvillette frowns at your words.
"Good morning," he says, setting his plume down before looking up at you. "I've told you multiple times already, there's no need to be so formal. 'Neuvillette' is perfectly fine."
"Pardon me, sir—" you pause when you notice the look on his face. "Pardon me, Neuvillette. I suppose I'm just not used to addressing my higher up that casually just yet."
"Higher up," Neuvillette scoffs, dipping the plume into a pot of ink before writing something down. "That's incorrect. We are equals, are we not?"
"The job description quite literally said 'assistant to the Iudex'," you tease, causing Neuvillette to pause. There's a small smile on your face when he looks at you, and he finds himself clearing his throat before responding.
"We both know you're more than a simple assistant, don't we? I got lucky considering you're ridiculously overqualified."
You deliberately refuse to respond, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you fully process Neuvillette's words. Instead, you glance at the boxes still in your hand, approaching his desk and clearing your throat to get his attention before you speak.
"Here are the court records you asked for. Should I just leave them on your desk?"
Neuvillette nods before giving you a confused look, his eyebrows furrowing as he shifts his gaze down to the boxes in your hands.
"Did something happen to Liath?" Neuvillette asks. Your heart warms at the concern on his face.
"No," you reply, shaking your head softly as you set the boxes down on his desk. "She mentioned she had some other duties to take care of."
"Ah, I was not aware she had any other duties," Neuvillette says, looking down at his desk. You pause at his words. "Perhaps I should have a talk with her and see if there's something bothering her?"
"I'm almost certain she's fine," you respond, unable to stop a smile from appearing on your face. Neuvillette is still lost in thought, wondering how to approach the Melusine. "Perhaps just make sure she's getting enough rest?"
Neuvillette looks up at you, nodding once before picking up his plume once again. "You're right. I'm certain she would've come to me directly if there was a problem. I'll make sure to speak with her later."
You nod at his words, bowing slightly before making your way back to his office doors. "If you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."
"You're not working in here today?" Neuvillette asks, sitting up even straighter as he watches you.
"I apologize Neuvillette," you say, smiling sheepishly before tugging the door open. "I'm afraid that Lady Furina requested my help for the day. I'll be back later to make sure everything is ready to go for tomorrow!"
Neuvillette nods, and he feels the paper on his desk rip slightly as he digs his plume into it. He slides the paper aside, grabbing a new one before speaking once more.
"I see. Tell her I said hello. Remember that tomorrow we meet directly at the Opera Epiclese, not here."
"Yes, I understand. Have a good day, sir," you say, giving him a wide grin before scurrying out of his office. You're gone before he can scold you for addressing him formally, the tapping of your shoes fading quickly as you rush off.
He wonders if there's a reason that Furina has suddenly decided to steal you from him. He decides not to think about it too much.
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The tapping of your shoes is drowned out by the rain as you approach the Opera Epiclese.
You silently pat yourself on the back for remembering your umbrella, and you quickly sidestep a puddle before you hurry towards the Fountain of Lucine, stopping when you Veleda huddled next one of the trees nearby.
"Veleda!" you yell, gaining the attention of the Melusine. You wave her over, concern all over your face as you angle your umbrella to shield the both of you from the rain. "What happened? Did you forget your umbrella?"
The Melusine nods before shaking her head, trying to get rid of the excess water in her hair.
"Do you want to come inside with me?" you ask softly, holding out your hand. Veleda shakes her head again.
"No, I have to stay out here and finish my rounds!"
You bend down slightly, placing the handle of your umbrella in her hand before straightening up.
"Take mine. I won't really need it inside," you say, earning a smile from Veleda.
"Thank you! I really appreciate it."
You smile back at Veleda, reaching down to brush a strand of wet hair from her face before walking off. You hurry past the fountain, holding your bag tightly against you in hopes of keeping it dry. Aeife opens the door for you with a smile, and you quickly thank her before rushing inside, being met with smiles from Trow and Blathine.
"Oh no! Did you leave your umbrella at home?" Trow asks, tilting her head as she observes you. There's a trail of water behind you, and you cringe when you realize that you must look like a mess.
"No," you reply, shedding your coat and holding it away from you as it drips. "I lent it to Veleda. She was standing outside in the rain and she didn't want to come inside."
Blathine nods at your words, and it's only then that you notice the two umbrellas in her hands. "We had to finish our rounds but we got caught in the rain. That's why I came in to get umbrellas for both of us!"
"Oh, I didn't know that," you say slowly, watching as Blathine skips to the door. She's gone before you can even ask for the extra umbrella, and you can only hope that it's not raining by the time the trial is over.
"I can take that from you," Trow says softly. "You can head on in. Monsieur Neuvillette is waiting for you. Lady Furina will not be joining today."
You nod and hurry into the main room, grabbing your paper, plume, and a small pot of ink from your bag. Neuvillette watches you as you slide into your usual seat, eyebrows furrowing at your lack of coat and umbrella. It's common knowledge that it tends to rain during trials, and he wonders if you've had a bad morning.
The trial passes by quickly, and your page is filled with notes by the time it's over. Neuvillette looks down towards you and nods, silently letting you know that you should wait for him. You give him a small nod in return, quickly packing up your stuff and heading to the exit.
Neuvillette is already waiting for you by the time you reach the front desk, listening to Trow as she speaks softly to him. You approach them with a smile, digging out your notes once again and passing them to Neuvillette.
"Pardon me for interrupting, Trow," you say, smiling at the Melusine and receiving a fond look in return. "Here are the notes from today's trial, Neuvillette."
"Thank you," he says, taking them from you and putting them away. "I always enjoy reading your notes at the end of a long day."
"Now that that the trial is over, you should go get some food," Trow suggest, waving the two of you towards the door. She pauses briefly, returning to the desk to grab your coat. "Here's your coat. I'm sorry, it's still a little damp."
"That's okay, Trow. A little rain won't bother me," you say, smiling gratefully as you slip it on.
"Did you not bring an umbrella today?" Neuvillette asks, watching as you tighten the tie of your coat around your waist.
"I lent it to Veleda," you say, repeating your words from earlier. You smile sheepishly as he fixes you with an unreadable look, pulling your bag up higher on your shoulder as Trow nods along. "I didn't want her to get sick. Oh! But I noticed Blathine taking an umbrella out to her. Trow, did they bring my umbrella back in here by chance?"
"No, they haven't been inside since," Trow says, shaking her head.
"We can share," Neuvillette states. His tone leaves no room for arguments and you simply nod, keeping you mouth shut to stop yourself from objecting.
"That's a great idea!" Trow exclaims, clapping her hands at his words. Neuvillette smiles softly at her before offering you his arm. "I'm not too hungry, but I'd like to join you for tea, if that's okay?"
You nod silently, linking your arm with his and gently resting your hand on his upper arm. The two of you say your goodbyes to Trow, receiving an enthusiastic wave in return before you walk out the door. Neuvillette holds his umbrella out, swiftly opening it and making sure it covers the two of you before descending the steps of the Opera Epiclese.
The rain hits the umbrella with soft thuds, and you shake your other arm to try and get rid of the stray droplets that dot your sleeve. Neuvillette notices the action, and he simply brings his arm closer to his side, pulling you in and making sure you're completely shielded.
"M-Maybe we can pick something up and eat back at the Palais Mermonia," you suggest, hoping that he didn't notice your stutter. He smiles down at you, and your mouth goes dry as you try to ignore the way your heart races at the sight. You glance down at your shoes, frowning slightly when you step over a large puddle. "It doesn't look like the rain is going to stop anytime soon."
The walk to the aquabus station is relatively quick, and the two of you stand huddled close together as you wait for it to arrive. You're greeted by a happy Elphane, who seems excited to see Neuvillette waiting for the aquabus. She greets him with a grin before waving shyly at you, a small umbrella clutched in her hand in an attempt to keep her uniform dry.
The aquabus ride is filled with casual conversation, and Neuvillette takes the time to ask Elphane if there's anything bothering her or any of the other Melusines. He receives nothing but smiles and reassurances in return, and you can feel him relax at her words. The two of you wave goodbye to Elphane as you disembark, making your way towards the Café Lucerne in search of food and a hot drink.
"I can order for the both of us," you say once you're close enough. The two of you stop underneath one of the cafe's umbrellas and you finally step away from Neuvillette. "Is there a certain type of tea you'd like?"
"You can choose for me," Neuvillette replies smoothly, pressing the umbrella handle into one of your hands and a small pouch full of mora into the other. "I trust your judgement. Besides, Menthe has spoken about how good you are at choosing teas she likes. I'm sure you can do the same for me."
You feel your cheeks warm at his words, and you silently look around for the Melusine he mentioned, knowing better than to argue about the mora. "Menthe isn't around today, is she? I hope she finally got around to taking a rest."
"I hope so as well," Neuvillette agrees. There's a moment of silence before you spin on the heel of your foot, leaving him behind as you go up to the counter to order. You order your favorite tea, conch madeleines, and two servings of ile flottante, swiftly handing over the right amount of mora before returning to Neuvillette's side. He wastes no time before taking the bag of food from you, using his free hand to gently take back his umbrella before offering you his arm once more. You shyly slip your hand into the crook of his elbow, letting him guide you towards the Palais Mermonia.
"I ended up ordering my favorite kind of tea," you say eventually, breaking the silence. "It's a white tea with notes of peach and ginger."
"That sounds lovely," Neuvillette responds. "It's seems very fitting. A lovely tea for an equally lovely person."
You can't stop the grin that breaks onto your face at his words, and you glance at him bashfully only to find him already looking at you. There's a tiny small on his face as you meet his gaze, his eyes soft as he observes your reaction.
The rain falling around you comes to a stop.
"Oh look! The rain has finally stopped," you remark, looking around you as you approach the Palais Mermona. Neuvillette hums in acknowledgement as he shuts his umbrella, making no move to separate himself from you. "That's good."
"Do you not like the rain?" Neuvillette asks, turning his head to look at you. You shake your head.
"No, that's not it," you say, lost in thought as you speak. "It just reminds me of something that Lyney's brother told me once."
At Neuvillette's questioning gaze, you continue.
"He said that when it rains, it's because the hydro dragon is crying," you explain, laughing lightly to yourself. "Maybe it's only a children's story, but I don't like the thought of the hydro dragon crying. I think he deserves to be happy."
You turn to see Neuvillette staring at you with an unreadable look, his eyes shining as he hums.
"I think I agree."
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"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you."
The two of you look up, arms still linked together, to see Furina standing near the front desk. Her hands are on her hips, nose turned up as she taps her foot. You suppress a smile at the sight, instead deciding to greet the Archon.
"Lady Furina," you say, bowing to her before straightening up. "How may I be of assistance?"
"I need you to help me finish what we were doing yesterday," she states, hesitating slightly before sniffling. "Please."
"Yes, of cou—"
"Actually we were just about to have lunch together," Neuvillette says, sending you an apologetic look for his interruption. Furina scoffs, half-heartedly glaring at Neuvillette before crossing her arms.
"Fine!" she concedes, turning her back to the two of you before sending you a glance. "I guess you can come find me when you're done."
She starts to walk away, only to stop when Sedene speaks.
"Lady Furina?"
Furina turns, nodding at the Melusine in acknowledgement.
"If it's not a problem, perhaps I can help you," Sedene continues, smiling softly up at the Archon. "That way we don't cut their lunch date short."
There's silence as Furina sends a sly glance your way, her eyes taking note of the way the two of you are still arm-in-arm. She nods in agreement, walking off complaint.
"You're right. Come find me in a few minutes, Sedene."
The three of you watch Furina stalk away, and you're only snapped out of your daze when Sedene tugs at your coat.
"I can take that for you," she says, and you finally let go of Neuvillette to slide your arms out of the coat. Before you can thank her, she's ushering the two of you towards Neuvillette's office, wishing you a happy meal and shutting the door swiftly as she leaves.
A chuckles leaves your lips as you approach Neuvillette's desk, sliding into the seat across from him as he clears off the table. He unpacks the food carefully, making sure to spread them out before walking over to grab a tea set.
"Forgive me if I'm being too bold," you start, reaching over for the tea you had bought and placing it into the tea pot. You carefully fill up the two teacups, relaxing in your seat after you swipe a conch madeleine off another plate. "But it seems like the Melusines have been acting a bit suspicious lately. I think they might be trying to set us up."
You wait for Neuvillette to wave your words off, but instead you're met with a sharp inhale, a slight hint of pink tinting the tips of his ears. He straightens up in his seat, rearranging the plates on the table as he tries to gather his thoughts.
"Ah, yes," he finally says, clearing his throat before glancing at you. He averts his gaze immediately, choosing to bring his teacup up to his lips instead. He takes a sip before setting it back down, taking his time before finally looking up to meet your eyes. "Forgive me, I believe it's all my fault. You see, I may have let it slip to Sedene that you looked beautiful on a few occasions."
"Oh," you breathe, your eyes widening at Neuvillette's confession. You're frozen in your seat, trying to think of what to say when his eyes widen slightly.
"As I said, please forgive me," he says hurriedly. "I'll ensure this behavior stops immediately and I can discuss your transfer from my office to Lady Furina's if you'd like."
"No!" you say, wincing when you realize your words are louder than you meant them to be. You pause, looking down and clamping your mouth shut. You compose yourself before continuing. "I mean, um, you're quite handsome yourself, you know?"
You look up to meet Neuvillette's gaze, your breath hitching when you see the soft smile on his face. There's an equally soft look in his eyes as he observes you, and he nods to himself before taking another sip of tea.
"In light of this revelation, I would like to ask you if you'd do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner sometime this week," Neuvillette proposes, the smile on his face growing as you nod.
"I'd love to."
The two of you turn when you hear a soft slam, the receding footsteps letting you know that Sedene had returned to eavesdrop. You giggle at the situation, turning back to see Neuvillette staring at the door with a fond look in his eye.
"Something tells me she's going to go tell everyone what just happened," you say, earning a soft chuckle from Neuvillette.
"I get the feeling they've been plotting this for quite some time," Neuvillette admits. "There's been too many coincidences to count."
You hum in agreement, thinking about all the weird behavior the Melusines had been exhibiting lately. Without them, none of this would have happened, and you let out a soft laugh as you realize just how obvious they had been. Your giggle draws Neuvillette's attention back to you, and the two of you share another soft smile as you begin to dig into your food.
"I guess we'll have to thank them then."
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rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!
4K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 3 months
Note
would you write a threesome w leon and chris… because… like maybe leon is your (older,,, like death island) boyfriend and he introduces you to his friend chris!! and idk you three end up having a threesome (consensual)… and you’re embarrassed because. you’ve never done this before n you’re all clingy with leon (maybe daddy kink??) n he’s like comforting you as he and chris fuck you at the same time ?!?!?
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield
summary: your boyfriend leon wants you to get a little more comfortable with his friend chris.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, dacryphilia
word count: 6.6k
a/n: thank you anon for sending this idea, it's right up my alley fr. also thank you for sending it again after i fumbled the bag the first time🤭🫶. the next threesome fic will be coming soon, i just ended up having more inspo for this one lol. hope you guys like it. reblogs and comments are super appreciated <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi
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“I’m just saying I think you both would really like it if you gave it a try,” you say, a bright smile on your face as you walk up the path to your and Leon’s shared place. Him and his friend trail behind you with equally pleased looks, the friend in question being Chris Redfield.
“No way. I did try it, and it was boring. Slow and drawn out. Also, it’s so unrealistic,” Chris says.
“Booooo. It’s not even slow. Stuff happens in like every single episode, at least in the early seasons,” you argue in an attempt to convince the pair to watch one of your favorite shows, “I just think there’s a lot you guys would like about it if you weren’t so impatient.”
“Babe, it’s got like, what? Over five seasons? I don’t have that kind of time,” your boyfriend replies.
You playfully roll your eyes and unlock the front door, stepping inside followed by the two men you were with. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go change cause this skirt is like super itchy,” you tell them.
Before you can walk away, you feel a familiar palm swat your ass. “It’s like super cute though, shows off those pretty legs,” Leon teases, his tone affectionately mocking.
You whip around to shoot him a glare, face hot with a mixture of emotions, mainly embarrassment with a pinch of arousal. 
“Leon,” you whisper, giving him a look that says not in front of Chris. 
He simply chuckles at your quiet protest and shakes his head with amusement, ruffling your hair and planting a kiss on your forehead before sending you off. You catch Chris’s gaze as you turn to leave. To your surprise, he isn’t rolling his eyes or visibly wishing for the two of you to get a room. He’s smiling. His expression is different from the one you were used to seeing on Leon, but it still held the same patronizing adoration that soaked your panties in seconds.
Brushing it off as your imagination, you scamper down the hall to the bedroom. You hum to yourself as you drop your skirt and kick it into the laundry. Rifling through your drawers to find something more comfortable to wear, your hands search through some different clothes before settling on a pair of loose pink shorts. After pulling the soft garment over your legs, you look in the mirror and then decide to slip your bra off too.
Sure, some people would frown on that move, but you were in your place and it’s not like Chris is a total stranger. He was one of your boyfriends closest friends. You’d hung out with him and Leon together multiple times, and from what you gathered, he was pretty cool. It’s not like the two of you were best friends yourself. Like your boyfriend, he was quite a bit older than you. But just as you bridged that gap with Leon, so far it seemed like you managed to bridge it with him too. To say the least, he didn’t strike you as the type to have an episode over your nipples peeking through your shirt.
Unbeknownst to you however, while your thoughts lingered on the men down the hall, their conversation centered around you as well. They had taken to the couch, sitting close to each side and leaving a space for you in the middle.
“She’s a cute little thing,” Chris chuckles, watching the hallway you had gone down.
“Mhm,” Leon confirms simply. He was scrolling through the tv, trying to find that show you’d been talking about.
His friend looks over at him. “You sure she’ll wanna do this?” he asks with some uncertainty in his voice, “She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’s had a whole lot of experience with this type of thing.”
“Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” he reassures, “You just gotta let me ease her into it.”
Chris opens his mouth to respond, but he cuts himself short once he hears your footsteps approaching. You bound back into the room. Your eyes catch on the way they’re sitting, closer than you would expect. They still left room for you though, so what does it matter, right?
You hop onto the couch and tuck yourself against your boyfriend’s side, gently kissing his jaw as you get comfortable and curl up on the cushion. He smiles down at you and returns the affection. He pulls you closer, but your feet are still brushing Chris’s thigh with how close he is.
“We were thinking we could watch an episode of that show you were talking about, see if we really would like it,” Leon tells you.
“Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s fine, baby. Chris doesn’t feel like driving home just yet, and you know if you’re happy, I’m happy,” he says.
You look over at Chris who nods. With that, Leon puts on the show. The familiar intro music plays and you watch the screen as a scene that you’d seen a million times plays out. You sink into his side, settling against his warm body. The episode plays, and you point out little things you like or remember something specific about. Both men nod and chuckle at your excited remarks.
Even though the couch and cuddling are comfy, your legs start getting a bit cramped from being curled up for an extended amount of time. You squirm around a bit, wanting to just stretch out. Chris prevented you from doing that as his bulky frame occupied the space your legs could be.
Leon smirks as he notices your restlessness. He shifts around a bit himself and leans back further into the couch. His feet rise up and land on the coffee table a few feet away, his legs stretching out in front of him. He doesn’t even have to see your face to know your eyes catch on his limbs. Their state of being outstretched only makes your need to do the same more intense. He gives Chris a quick glance.
“You uncomfortable, honey?” the larger man asks you.
Your eyes dart up to meet his. Hearing that pet name coming from anyone else but Leon left you flustered. You tried to reason that it didn’t mean anything. This was clearly another instance of you overthinking. Maybe Chris was just the type of guy who said that sort of thing? The kind that called cashiers sweetheart or darling. The kind who’d put your hand on your waist when saying excuse me. You didn’t remember him acting like this any of the other times you’d met him though. He was always polite with you, but that was about it. Maybe you just didn’t notice before?
“Um… I’m fine. Just a little cramp,” you explain.
He smiles at you, that same kind from earlier. “Well, I don't bite. You can stretch your legs out if you want to, princess,” he teases.
Princess. Ok that was definitely something. That name was reserved solely for the man whose arm was around you, and it usually came out only when he was prepping you to take his cock. You typically heard it as a coo when you were already crying out your own special name for him. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. The two just went hand in hand. Honestly, you couldn’t really hear one without the other following close behind.
That’s why you get all timid and shy so easily. You were pretty sure Leon had psychologically conditioned you or something. Just a few touches in the right place, some words whispered in your ear in the perfect hushed tone, and you were a goner. Suddenly, your brain would feel soft and malleable. Urges appear within you to sit in his lap and cuddle. You’d just wanna look up at your daddy with dazed eyes and have him stick something in your mouth.
And sure, it wasn’t like you were brainwashed or something. You still possessed self control. It wasn’t like he’d pet your head and call you his baby, and you’d instantly lose yourself over it. It was just a slow slip into this side of your personality, and being around Chris didn’t exactly deter those feelings from coming out either because just look at him. He looked like he was meant to be called daddy. Whenever Leon would tease you in front of him, it felt like you soaked your panties even quicker than normal.
You're snapped out of your analysis of this moment when you feel a large, warm hand wrap around your ankle. He pulls your leg out, and in-turn, drags you closer. A soft squeak escapes you as your body slides down Leon’s. Your back is still resting against his side, just lower. More of you is spread across the sofa, and your calves were fully in Chris’s lap.
You look up at your boyfriend to see his response to his friend’s action, but he didn’t even seem interested. He barely spared you a second glance in your new position, simply adjusting his arm to accommodate the new location of your head. He wraps it below your jaw and has you rest your chin on the bend of his elbow. His fingers start rubbing soothing, little circles on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Chris’s large palms merely rest on your legs. He gives you a smile before turning his eyes back to the tv screen. You quickly follow suit. If he wasn’t thinking this was weird, you weren’t going to make it weird by dwelling on it.
For a while, it’s fine. The three of you continue watching the show, albeit a little more quiet than before. Leon’s hand remains on your shoulder and keeps up his light touches. Your body relaxes again though as you let go of any nervousness you had. But then, Chris starts moving his hand too.
His palm smooths out over your lower leg. His other hand rubs your ankle, his fingertips coasting over the joint. One is moving in long strokes while the other stays in tight circles, but both go at a sensual pace, slow and teasing.
Your head turns to look at him again, but you find his stare is still on the characters of the tv show. You watch his hands move. They’re now essentially massaging your legs. His hand that had been lower has risen and works on the muscles, digging his warm digits into the flesh.
You squirm a little, trying to alert your boyfriend that his friend was touching you in a way that seemed more than friendly. It doesn’t work though. If he does see, he doesn’t mind because he simply leans down and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head before reverting to his same position. You almost felt crazy for a second. This wasn’t normal, was it? Had you just lived your life not knowing that it was a regular thing for a boyfriend’s friend to give you a massage like this? Was Leon ok with it cause he was there so it couldn’t go too far? You really had no clue.
If you were being honest though, Chris’s hands didn’t feel bad. Not at all. They felt really good. They were big and warm and moved with strategy. They hit all your sweet spots. Kinda made you wanna crawl into his lap so he could rub more of your body, but that was the problem. This wasn’t right. You felt that saccharine heat creeping up your spine and seeping into your head, but you shouldn’t be feeling that for anyone else besides the man behind you.
Now guilt casts a shadow over you too, and the pair of emotions was a volatile mix. You didn’t even realize it, but your nipples had started to stiffen. Your thighs shift against each other, and had you really been paying attention, you would have seen the way Chris’s lips slightly quirked up into a smirk. Your body gets a little tense as you run through the possibilities of what you should do in this situation.
As if Leon could sense your thoughts racing, his hand lowers and starts rubbing your arm. Deciding to remain where you are for now, you press your cheek against his bicep for comfort. Not that you could see, but just like Chris, his expression grows smug. His hand readjusts again so it’s closer to your chest. Your eyes widen as he basically starts feeling you up. His hand squeezes your breast before his fingers circle your nipple, gently tweaking the hardened bud. 
At the same time, the hands on your legs start moving higher. The broad strokes begin meeting your thighs too. Little bumps of anticipation erupt across your skin. You already knew your center would soon be slick. 
Your head feels hot now. It made you feel a weird kind of dizzy. Even though it was only a few hands and simple touches, it was so much. Combined with the fact that it was so unusual, you started feeling overwhelmed. Your pulse pounds in your ears and your hands feel tingly. You feel a whimper rising in your throat. When he finally glides his hands up to the hem of your shorts, your legs jerk and you scoot back.
By the time Chris looks over, you’re already in Leon’s lap, arms around him, face buried against his neck. He’s worried for a second that something was seriously wrong. Profuse apologies rush to the tip of his tongue, but Leon signals him to just wait.
“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” he coos, a hand sliding beneath your shirt to rub your back. Of course, he knew the answer already. He knew exactly how you got with this kind of stuff which is why he knew exactly how to handle it.
You end up simply shaking your head, unable to articulate the exact reason for your distress. Because really, nothing was wrong. Everything felt right. But it shouldn’t feel right? Maybe that’s what was wrong. That’s too much for your mouth to get out while you feel like this though.
“Aw, is my pretty girl feeling shy?” he whispers and strokes your hair.
You nod, pulling back a little to reveal your face and look up at the familiar set of eyes you found so much comfort in. He gives you a small kiss of reassurance before continuing to coax you with his low and soothing tone.
“Oh sweetheart, why are you shy? You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he says.
“Because…” you start softly, nervously glancing at Chris only to see him watching the entire exchange. You force your attention back to your boyfriend. “Because Chris is here.”
His chest rumbles with a low laugh. “Oh, princess. That’s not a reason. Didn’t you like how Chris was touching you? Wasn’t he making you feel good?”
“I guess…” you admit.
“See? You don’t have to be embarrassed around daddy’s friend. He only wants to play with you because you’re so cute,” he teases and lands a barrage of kisses on your cheek.
You were going to freak out about him using the d word in front of someone else, but looking over at Chris, he didn’t look at all shocked. His eyes were soft and comforting as they watched you, but you were still a little uncertain. You turn your face back into Leon. He keeps rubbing your back and holds you a little closer on his lap.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. I just think you’d have a lot of fun,” Leon says softly, “You know how wet that pretty pussy gets thinking about someone else watching you with daddy, joining in because he just can’t resist a good girl like you.”
He was right. He knew your fantasies like the exact situation playing out in your living room right now. But it was scarier when it was real. You didn’t have the control anymore. That's what made it exciting too though.
“It’s just Chris, honey,” he continues reassuring you, “He’d never hurt you. He thinks you're as precious as I do. But even still, daddy’s gonna be here the whole time. You know I’d never let anything hurt my girl.”
You soften up more, relaxing under Leon’s touch and tender words. As you’re thinking it over, leaning towards going through with this, Chris scoots closer to the two of you on the couch. He tentatively places his hand on your leg and caresses your skin.
“It’s up to you, babydoll,” he says, “I only wanna help your daddy make you feel good.”
Oh god. He was a natural at this, talked down to you just the way you liked.
“See, princess? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Leon says. He strokes some of your hair back and watches as you look at the other man, deciding whether to let him in or not. He chuckles in your ear. “He’s acting cool, but you don’t know how bad he’s been wanting a turn with you. I’m sure you’ve seen him staring. Sometimes I think he’s practically drooling watching you. You know he goes home and strokes his dick raw, wishing it was your pretty little hands instead.”
It’s obvious there’s some truth to Leon’s statement from the way Chris remains silent. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you mull it over. Why was it so bad? You wanted it and they both wanted it. Why should you stop yourself?
You look up at your boyfriend and nod, silently communicating that you wanted this. He smiles and shifts you in his lap so that you’re in a more accessible position. One hand rubs your inner thighs while his other arm stays wrapped around your body to hold you close. 
Upon seeing your confirmation, Chris comes even closer. As he gets situated, Leon leans in and connects his lips with yours in a few soft kisses. Your noses brush and breathing deepens. He strokes your cheek before pulling away and looking in your eyes.
“Why don’t you try that with Chris, baby? Give him some of those kisses he’s been dreaming about,” he breathes.
Your focus shifts to the man sitting to your boyfriend’s right. Eyes casting down, you bring your head forward, and Chris closes the gap. Your breath hitches when you feel the unfamiliar lips meet your own. They’re noticeably different from the pair you were used to, but it wasn’t a bad different.
You move your lips with his, shuddering a little when you feel him grunt. He struggles not to take more than what you give. Leon watches on with a grin, stroking your hair and making sure it was out of your face. Your hand maintains an iron grip on him the entire time. 
“Such a good girl,” he purrs in your ear.
All three of you had long stopped paying attention to the tv, so Leon shuts it off. He then leans in to suck little love bites onto your throat. You whine into your kisses with his friend. The sound causes you to open your mouth, allowing Chris to slip his tongue in to meet yours. You moan and reciprocate the advance. His smiles against your lips as his hand glides up and gropes at one of your breasts, drawing another whimper from you.
Several hickeys later, Leon removes his mouth from your neck to admire his work. His fingers drag over the wet, darkened skin. He licks one more stripe over the area before leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re slightly out of breath, eyes dilated, and lips a bit puffy.
“Aw, look at that face,” Leon teases, talking more to Chris than you, “She loves her kisses. Sometimes I think she likes it more than the actual fucking.”
“I could tell. All those sweet sounds she was making,” Chris chuckles. His chest rises and falls in a pattern similar to yours.
“Oh yeah, so sensitive, my baby,” Leon coos, “You wanna go sit in Chris’s lap and give him some more kisses?”
You shake your head and tighten your grip on his hand. They both smile at your timid display.
“My mistake. You just gotta give her some time to adjust. She’s not used to anyone but daddy. Isn’t that right?” Leon jokes.
You nod and snake your arms around him, hiding your face against his chest again. He couldn’t get enough of how clingy you became when you felt like this.
“No, no. No more being shy. C’mon, his lips still have your spit on ‘em. There’s no reason for you to hide,” he teases you and guides your head back up to see your eyes, “You still wanna do this, don’t you?”
You nod again, looking up at him with those loving eyes.
“That’s what I thought, so how about this?” he starts. He gets your arms to unlock from their position around him and tucks his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt. “How about we show daddy’s friend more of this precious body, yeah?”
You lift your arms and allow him to tug the fabric up and over your head. Your breasts spring free, but his hands are immediately there to cup them, knead the flesh, and tease your nipples. From his place next to the two of you, Chris’s eyes drop to the swell of your chest.
“You’re even prettier than Leon told me, baby,” he coos before leaning in, giving you one more kiss and then trailing his lips down the side of your throat. They glide over the warm skin and across the expanse of your chest.
Your boyfriend’s hands drop from your breasts, letting Chris’s take their place. You shift and lean back so your back is pressed to Leon’s chest, giving the other man more access. He fondles them before latching his mouth onto a nipple, his tongue swirling around the little peak. A little sigh escapes your lips to the pleasure of both men.
“I think she likes that, Chris,” Leon croons, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.
Chris sucks on the pebbled nub a bit more before alternating to the other one. He spends less time over there before just kissing all over your chest.
“Got such pretty tits,” he grunts, laving a tongue across your skin.
Your face heats up at the compliment, and of course, Leon knew without even having to look. He could tell by the slight way you squirmed your hips on his lap.
“Aw, princess. You like when daddy’s friend calls you pretty?” he coos. Once he sees your little nod, he continues. “How about you let him pull down your shorts and see how cute your cunt is next.”
You agree to this with no hesitation, trying to elevate your hips so he could remove your clothing. Chris smirks at your overt desire. In a quick move, he scoots back and pulls by your hips so that you’re laying across the couch again. Your head is on Leon’s thigh so you can look up at him while your fingers remain tightly interlaced with his.
The larger man peels your shorts off and then your panties. He gazes upon your dripping cunt. His thumb drags up and down through your slick in an exploratory touch.
“Oh, honey,” he breathes, circling your clit. His hand moves down again before he slides two fingers into your hole. “You’re gonna take our cocks so well. Pussy this pretty is made for that.”
You suck in a gasp that turns into a long whine as his digits fill you up. His fingers were nice and thick, filling you up just right. Your eyes flutter, and your head presses against Leon’s thigh. Chris starts pumping them in and out, stroking your inner walls.
“That’s right, baby,” Leon reassures you, “He’s gonna open you up, and you’re gonna feel so good.”
A breathy whimper falls from your lips. Your hips rock a little, but Chris allows it, enjoying your enthusiasm as you become more comfortable. You feel his fingers curling within you in motions that drive you wild and have your hands grabbing at the edges of the couch cushion beneath you.
“There you go, sweet baby. Am I doing it right?” Chris asks teasingly. With your frantic nod, he works a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back and you choke out a moan.
Leon smiles down at you and strokes your hair. His bulge grows harder, watching you get so wound up for his friend.
“Make sure you rub her pretty little clit, Chris. She loves that,” he says, “Might be a little sore since she likes to play with it so much.”
Chris grins at that, taking his turn to tease you now. “Is that right? You like playing dirty, princess? I bet you can’t help it. Cute girls like you get needy so easy. Can’t think without making yourself cum every few hours, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.
“I’ll be gentle then. Think your sweet spot just needs some special kisses,” he coos.
He bends down so his mouth can be level with your cunt, a bit of a challenge with his size, but he manages. His lips meet your clit and give you some soft kisses. A little flick of the tongue and the light movement of his flesh against your sensitive bundle of nerves has your walls fluttering around him, little mewls escaping your lips.
Then, with a harsh suck to your clit, he works a fourth finger inside you. Your legs kick a little, but he simply slides them to rest on his shoulders. Every little twitch next to his head has more of his blood rushing south. Your hips buck too as you adjust to the minor stretch.
“You’re daddy’s perfect girl, you know that right? Girl of my fuckin’ dreams. Doing so good for me right now,” your boyfriend says from above you. His eyes watch on fondly as Chris slides basically his entire hand in and out of you. “Think you can cum for Chris, baby? Gush all over his fingers so it’s nice and easy for him and daddy to fill you up?”
You nod quickly. 
Chris sucks harder on your clit and flicks his tongue against you with more fervor. His hand finds a rhythm that you seemed to like, had you twitching more than before. He could hear your voice rising to a higher pitch.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Make your daddy proud,” he murmurs against your folds.
You really don’t know what it was, but that phrase does you in. You turn your face against Leon’s hip, dig your fingers into his palm, and erupt into a frenzy of whining and bucking your hips. 
Chris continues his efforts, relishing the sensation of your slick coating his fingers and palm. His lips gradually loosen on your swollen bud. He gives it a few more licks before sitting up and gazing down at your blissed out body.
They both give you a second to rest before Leon sits you up on the couch. He gives you a quick kiss and looks into your eyes, hazy from release.
“Think you’re ready for daddy and Chris to fuck you?” he coos and rubs your cheek.
“Mhm,” you hum, returning his loving stare.
“Of course you are. My sweet girl,” he says.
The two men don’t waste time undressing themselves. Clothing piles up on the ground as they match your nudity. Both of them stand as they undo their belts and drop their pants. You’d seen Leon’s dick a hundred times by now. You watch him pull it out and give it a few strokes. The tip flushes bright red like always, a couple familiar veins span up the side. You turn your attention to Chris, looking upon a sight you hadn’t seen before.
You’re snapped out of your post-orgasm stupor when you catch a glimpse of the appendage hanging between Chris’s legs. Just like every other part of him, it’s noticeably thick. The length was good too, sure, but it wasn’t the main attraction. His cock didn’t get as red as Leon’s, but it still had the veins. He even had a few beads of white, sticky precum leaking from the head.
“Oh, you like what you see, baby?” Leon teases when he notices your wonder, “I’m sure Chris would be happy to let you suck on it next time.”
“Daddy, it’s not gonna fit,” you say, looking up at him and ignoring the tempting idea of giving Chris a blowjob.
He smiles down at you, simultaneously condescending and affectionate. “Of course it will. C’mere, princess,” he says. 
In no time at all, Leon’s back on the couch, guiding you on top of him. You crawl to meet the place he’s directing you. Lowering yourself against him, your front rests against his and your head lies near the crook of his neck. The warmth of his body comforts you but not enough to push out your concerns completely.
“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you nice and comfy on daddy’s cock, and then Chris will just slide right in,” he reassures you, “You’re gonna feel so good. You just let me take care of everything.”
His arm had already slithered beneath your hip to line up his shaft with your entrance. He runs the tip through your soaked folds then pushes in. A whiny moan escapes you, and your arms wrap tighter around him. The feeling wasn’t a new one, but it still felt so good. He works himself in and out slowly, hips rocking off the couch in small thrusts.
“That’s my girl, taking it just like you’re meant to. I’ve got you trained so well,” he murmurs against your hair.
The entire time, you feel Chris’s eyes on you. His pupils fixated on the sight of Leon pumping in and out of your gushing cunt. You hear him spit down onto his hand and know he’s started to stroke himself in anticipation. Other than that, he stays quiet, locked onto you sucking up every inch of your boyfriend's cock.
Leon continues gliding in and out. You feel the muscles in his chest and neck straining with the pleasure your pulsing walls give him.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Chris did a good job with you,” he groans. His breaths become ragged as he staves off true euphoria. This couldn’t end too quickly. “You know, babydoll, I don’t think you said thank you to Chris for making you feel so good. That’s not very nice.”
You whimper as your brain registers the implication of his words. At the moment, you were more focused on rolling your hips with Leon’s, but you force some words out of your mouth cause you’re a good girl after all.
“Sorry daddy,” you say, cut off by a whine as he pokes a sensitive spot, “T-thank you, Chris.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he responds. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, but you don’t have the chance to linger on it since you feel his broad palm land on the small of your back. His fingers rub the skin gently, as if to keep you calm while he positions himself on his knees behind you. You whine again and cling harder to Leon.
“You can say thank you better than that, baby,” he teases, trying to keep any fear away from you. He presses a kiss to your temple as well and rubs your back, “What are you thanking him for?”
“Thank you for making me cum, Chris. Your fingers and kisses felt so good,” you whimper, adding on the last bit before Leon could correct you further.
“Oh, you’re welcome,” he repeats with excessive adoration, “You deserve it for being such a good girl. Besides, that pussy was so fucking sweet, makes me want another taste.”
You squeeze around Leon and bite your lip as your lower belly erupts with butterflies. And then you feel it. You feel the hot tip of Chris’s heavy cock nudging at your entrance above Leon’s. You tense and dig your fingers into the flesh of his back.
“Just relax, baby. You’re gonna be just fine. Daddy’s right here,” he coos and holds you tighter against his chest.
“You ready?” Chris asks softly.
You squeeze your eyes shut but nod, waiting to feel the stretch.
And it comes right away. You gasp as another cock enters you. Whining, your hands scramble to grab at something. Leon takes one and squeezes it lovingly, pausing his thrusts. You bury your face against his skin, your chest erratically puffing as you try to accommodate the sizes. Both men are groaning, eyes fluttering or rolled back, muscles flexing as they take in the tight, wet heat engulfing them.
“Doing so good, pretty girl, so good,” Leon mutters.
You can’t fathom any kind of response. The burning sensation of both of them was still so intense and from what you could tell, Chris wasn’t even all the way in yet. He was still pushing forward as far as he could. At a certain point, you can’t fight off the tears pricking at your waterline. Your free hand clamps over your mouth as a choked cry tumbles out.
“So fucking tight, I could cum right now,” Chris grunts.
Leon’s hand covers your right hip, tracing tiny soothing circles over your skin. Chris occupies your left, digging his fingers into the flesh. The subtle difference between the two sides drives you further into the throes of ecstasy.
When Chris manages to bully his cock nearly all the way inside you, as deep as it could go at least, Leon feels your hot tears sliding off your cheeks and pooling on his chest.
“Oh, poor baby,” he croons. He lets go of your hand for a second to swipe a few drops away, but then he takes it back. “You ok, honey? Too much for you?”
You weakly shake your head that it wasn’t too much, sniffling between whimpers. They’ve both stopped now to let you get used to the entirety of them. The site of your connection pulses with need on all three accounts. You feel Chris gripping you a little harder in an effort to keep his composure.
“My tough girl, so brave for daddy. Makin’ me so proud,” he whispers and kisses your hairline.
“So fuckin’ pretty too. You look gorgeous all filled up like this,” Chris moans from behind you.
His gaze remains on his and Leon’s cocks splitting you open. He starts rocking his hips a bit, groaning at the combined feeling of your slick walls with Leon’s length rubbing against his. Leon starts moving again too.
You let out a sound that’s between a yelp and a moan. Both of Leon’s arms snake around you to keep you engulfed in his embrace. He’s more vocal than usual, the mix of stimulation getting to him as well.
“That’s right. You keep crying for your daddy. Let me hear how much you need me. Just cry it out like the good little girl you are,” he mumbles against you.
Once you’ve become comfortable with the stretch, it starts feeling better than you’d imagined. In tandem, they’re stroking every part of you. They slide in and out, back and forth, pulling soft whines from you. The only noise apart from the three of you grunting and moaning, is the obscene noises that come from them pumping into your wet pussy. You feel your ability for coherent thoughts slipping away. You just wanted to be full of your daddy and his friend.
Chris smacks your ass while picking up his pace a bit. “Now she’s getting into it,” he says.
You get a little louder to both their enjoyment. Grabbing at Leon a little more, you shudder while hearing moans bubble up from his chest and out of his mouth.
“That’s cause you’re such a good girl. Right baby?” he asks, his voice breathier, “So good at whining for your daddy’s cock.”
You nod without a second thought. You’re panting a bit as the thrusts start hitting just right. Your expressions and the tightening of your cunt give you away. You hear both of them groaning and getting a little more primal with their movements.
“You feel that, Chris? She’s getting closer. Can always tell by the way her pussy starts trying to keep me in. So desperate for some cum,” Leon says.
“Yeah. I can feel her cute little cunt begging for it,” Chris growls.
They’re both going harder, making your mind get all fuzzy and causing more tears to fall, although by this time they’re purely tears of pleasure. Your cries are whiny and needy.
“My baby, my baby,” Leon grunts while lacing his fingers in your hair, “I want you to cum for me, ok? Wanna feel you cumming all over our cocks. Show Chris how good you make me feel every single night when you start clamping down on me.”
You don’t finish right then. It takes a handful more thrusts from each of them to hit the right buttons and work you over that edge, dropping you into a pool of euphoria. The bliss washes over you, and as Leon described, your pussy squeezes around them in waves. They’re both moaning now, grabbing you harder, sighing and gasping. You twitch on top of Leon, and he holds you close and helps you through it.
“Look at that sweet face. Always so pretty when you let go,” he mumbles just for you to hear, “Keep cumming, dolly. Want you feeling like you’re in heaven.”
Leon’s the first to blow his load, shooting it deep inside you. He pumps it in while you’re still releasing. His own hips twitch and buck while that hot, sticky liquid flows from him. 
Chris takes a bit longer, savoring every last moment he has inside your precious cunt. He keeps thrusting after you’ve finished, making you squirm with the slight overstimulation. Leon hisses too, feeling the friction from his movements against his dick.
When he finally does cum, your body is overtaken with a shiver. He fucks it deep into you. His thrusts don’t weaken while he spills it inside of you. He keeps moving in powerful strokes until he’s satisfied.
After he’s truly done, Chris leans down and kisses the space between your shoulder blades. “So good, pretty baby,” he praises softly before pulling out.
It feels weird just having Leon’s dick in you. It’s your normal but so strange now too. He slides himself out next though, so there isn’t too much time to fester on that. Sitting up, he pulls you with him while covering your face in kisses.
Everyone is laid back right now, letting the post-high wear off as you all come down. You stay curled up to Leon like you always did after finishing. He rubs your back like normal, knowing your head was most likely still up in the clouds. Eventually, all of your breathing steadies and returns to a regular pace.
Your hazy eyes open and gaze over at Chris. “Thank you Chris,” you say, tone a bit dreamier than it usually is.
“You’re welcome, honey,” he says, smiling at you.
“Look at you, so polite,” Leon teases, “By the looks of it, you’re gonna be sitting on Chris’s lap soon enough and leaving me on the sidelines.”
You shake your head and nuzzle him. All of you take a brief moment to finish the descent back to normalcy. Chris stands to pull on his pants again. 
“We’ll get there one of these days,” he jokes.
“I don’t know about that. This one’s a daddy’s girl before anything else,” Leon says, before smooching your forehead.
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astrow1zar6 · 4 months
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Astro Observations-19
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I notice Earth suns tend to have a very bullying type of humor. Very harsh dry humor that’s borderline offensive is their style. Sometimes it’s hard to know if they’re joking or serious especially Capricorn’s 😭
Aries men are surprisingly not as hot headed as people would expect. It actually takes a lot before they really yell at you. Usually only if u insult something they’re passionate in. The women are a lot more hot headed & easily set off imo
Mercury Rx people usually struggle with speech or reading problems. I notice it can result in having a stutter or a lisp, dyslexia or just very bad social anxiety. In extreme cases I’ve seen selective mutism. I also notice they have a very intense relationship with books & reading, it’s either they absolutely love reading or it’s really challenging for them in some way. A lot started off in their earlier years finding reading challenging then ended up loving reading as they grew. It’s like a mental exercise for them.
Saturn RX people always make bad choices lol. They always choose the path that will lead to the most hardship just for the fun of it or the excitement (which it’s normally not fun for too long) they usually grew up having a hard time with authority. Could of had very authoritative parents that were too hard on them which caused them to rebel. In this lifetime they are here to learn the value of HARD-work because in past lives these people were usually really irresponsible & put fun and pleasure over building their futures. These people will face so much disappointment until they surrender their rebel lifestyle. Deep down they do want to mature & be better but many believe they aren’t good enough. Once they reach this maturity however their life will do a 360.
Venus in the 1st house people can act very unpleasant when they are getting ignored or the attention isn’t fully on them. They value people liking them & fitting in so when they feel like they aren’t vibing with anyone they go into this deep self pity downer attitude. Their self esteem and happiness is determined by how many people accept them.
Venus in the 3rd house people have relationships that look more like friendships. Their partnerships are more playful & light then deep and intense. They usually end up dating their best friend. Could lack in the physical realm however in some cases.
Venus in the 7th house people usually have a lot of crushes. Most of them however never turn into anything deeper. It’s surprisingly hard for these people to fall in love. They can also lead a lot of people on because of their multiple crushes. Not easy to keep these people attention.
Moon in Caps are really afraid of rejection. They will act they hate you even if they’re in love with you to avoid showing their vulnerable side. Their coldness can ruin a lot of relationships that they actually really wanted.
Mercury in Pisces people can never stay on topic while speaking 😂 they have this habit of going off topic then completing forgetting why they were even telling the story in the first place. They also disassociate like a mf. They can be staring dead in your eyes for hours and not hear a word you’re saying lol.
If you try to argue with a Mars in the 3rd house you will never win. These people are natural born lawyers. They come with all the receipts 👀
Cancer placements tend to have really round faces. Like the moon.
Pisces placements are really wise and really childish at the same time. They all have this naive childish aura around them where you assume they don’t understand much but then when you really get to know them they will talk to you like your listening to an Alan Watts lecture 😂
Mercury in the 12th house I believe is the most introverted mercury placement. Even with a more extroverted mercury sign there’s still this deep reserve to them. These are usually those kids in class that you never heard speak once then they finally speak u think “holy shit they do know how to talk” lol. I notice they choose to stay quiet because people ignore them anyways. Like people will ask them to be more open and talk more & when they actually try they are usually brushed off.. it’s really not fair, and they know this all too well.
Aquarius Venus 🤝 having their friends catch feelings for them
Uranus/Venus aspects are usually apart of the LGBTQ community.
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atskiruma · 1 year
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his attempts at courting you
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expl: he finds himself thinking about you more often, wanting to seek you out consistently, and giving you numerous gifts every day to see you smile
a/n: it has come to my attention that the last ff i wrote, (snow day) was not very well depicted for all readers to enjoy, i want to apologize for that and promise that i will get better at trying to make sure everyone is able to read it and enjoy it, my writings are targeted for all | unfortunately, i can not edit it right now seeing as there's a poll going on, but once that poll is finished i will change my wording in the ff
ask me anything masterlist
second person writing no pronouns used
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Zhongli often felt himself thinking about you more often while he was working around the parlor. Even seeking out your name in conversations and listening more attentively when someone was speaking about you. It didn't confuse him though, he was aware of his interest in you.
You opened up the warmth in his heart and welcomed him kindly every time you two saw each other. It made him happy to see you happy, and this was evident when flowers were delivered directly to your door one sunny afternoon.
"These are for you," The mail lady said before turning around and walking away to do more deliveries. You didn't even get to ask who they were from before she was gone. Staring down at the bouquet of tiger lilies in front of you, you could only assume that the bright orange and black colors could depict a certain someone's hair color.
It was a nice piece on your kitchen counter and went well with the other decorations spiraling around your house. That was, until the next morning, you were greeted again with another gift. A bright orange vase to compliment the tiger lilies you received the other day. It was funny, why was he going out of his way to send you such nice gifts?
You finally managed to confront him when you saw Childe and Zhongli sitting together on the seats of an outside cafe. Walking over and waving to the both of them. They greeted you back, and small talk was given for only a couple minutes.
"I actually came over here to thank Zhongli," This caught his attention, and he turned to look up at you, "I really loved the flowers you sent and the vase goes really well with them too!" You said while smiling.
He nodded back at you, seemingly collecting himself extremely quickly at the fact you figured out so quick who it was. "I'm glad you liked them," He said.
"I came to give you this in return," You said," "I know it's probably not as extravagant as the ones you gave me, but I like it." Handing over the small gift box, he opened it and smiled softly at the item. It was a small keychain, nothing special, and it was decorated with a lovely orange seem.
That same keychain would be hung up right next to his bedframe, along with variant letters you sent him on the table accompanying it.
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Diluc was someone who took courting another person seriously. He found it tradition since his father had spoken so much of it when Diluc was younger. He always wanted to treat the one he loved with respect and be as much of a gentleman as possible.
This was why you were taking a stroll with him through his grapevines on a sunny afternoon. He offered for you to come down to the Winery a couple days ago and you had just gotten around to accepting his offer. His hand rested on your back as he took you through multiple different paths and explained everything. As you strolled, he talked about things concerning the vine, his profits, the seasons they needed to be planted, etc.
You smiled at him, knowing it was something he took dear to his heart, and listened very attentively to what he was saying. In reality, Diluc was really hoping that all he was talking about didn't bore you in any way.
Then, the next couple of hours were spent sitting in his large dining room, eating food made by the cooks in his home. It was nice, and you were very happy that he wanted to spend this much time with you. Diluc even found himself watching you eat here and there, asking you if the food was good or if you needed anything else in the time being.
After everything was over, and the night sky shined over the two of you as you stood outside his doors, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your hand. Telling you how much of a pleasure it was to have you here, and how he wished you could stay longer.
Diluc even offered to walk you home, tediously not taking no for an answer, he reached down to take your hand and hold it the whole walk home.
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Alhaitham was very closed off when he first met you, he was closed off with anyone in general. He found it strange that you always seemed to be there when he was thinking about you, and when his eyes would try and search a room in the akademiya for you.
He realized that something had to be done about this, so, he did what any other raging nerd would do, and researched about it.
You also found it odd when you'd see him looking at you from across the library, or holding the door open for you whenever you'd walking behind him. Alhaitham always seemed like the guy who only cared about his own, yet he was so evident in helping you out here and there.
Helping you when you'd be confused about a book, rewording your essays to make them better. Alhaitham seemed to want to assist you with almost everything. This was no different than today.
You found yourself back at the library looking down at a long-written parchment on the forest rangers' activities. Trying to figure out how you could make this work in the essay you were conducting on Sumeru's forest.
This was when you heard the chair scrap right next to you, and looked up from where you had originally been focused. Alhaitham took his seat next to you, slightly taking up more space than necessary with his manspreading.
"Do you need help with that? It looks like a longer report than usual for you."
"Longer than usual?" You shot back, "Are you saying that I'm not capable of reading this?" His eyes widened a bit and he instantly tried to retort his original statement. "No, no, I thought- Well- You know you usually read shorter reports in order to get more details. I didn't think you'd take something this large to account."
His confession made you smile, and you leaned in closer, "How'd you know how I like my reports?" At the response with your cheeky grin, a blush formed on his cheeks before he looked away.
"Scholars are supposed to be attentive, it's natural to know a few things you prefer in order to work best with you."
The response he sent back your way caused you to roll your eyes and turn back to what you were originally doing. "To answer your question, no, I do not need help, but thank you for offering."
That didn't seem to make him budge, because he kept sitting there watching you copy down and write words from the book.
"You misspelled climate."
The sound of a book colliding with his head echoed throughout the library.
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Ayato enjoyed your company, a lot, so much that he seeks you out anytime he and his sister go down to festivals or strolls through the city. He always wanted to start up a conversation with you, and if anyone else walked by anytime he'd be down there, Ayato would be right next to you listening with a smile at whatever you said.
Ayaka loved you too and found it amusing that her brother was so interested in you. She often found herself trying to spark up conversations with you, asking if her older brother proposed yet in a joking manner.
You laughed it off, Ayato was nice but you were sure he had other rich and important people to concern his love life with. He was just a very nice man to talk with here and there, and you didn't seem to notice that you were one of the few he'd actually seek out.
That was, until, every time he saw you, he came with some form of jewelry or expensive item to give you. Asking you how your day was, what you were doing, and if you wanted to come to spend some time up at the estate with him.
"What about Ayaka?" You said with a tilt of your head in confusion. He smiled back and said, "I'm sure she'd rather stay down here and explore more of the shops.
Ayaka would have loved to come along, but before she could even turn around, the two of you were already heading back up to the estate.
He catered to you, made sure you were comfortable, and even asked if you'd like anything from his personal chefs. It was a bit much to handle, seeing as you weren't used to living so luxurious, but he was very nice about it all and understood.
The catering didn't stop after that day either, more and more people began to wonder why the Kamisato siblings were spending so much more time outside their palace. Ayaka once mentioned that you loved a certain color, and the next day Ayato was handing you a box with that color, and a necklace with the pearl containing that color too.
He even found himself marching over to you when he saw someone speaking to you in a more flirtatious matter. Moving next to you and asking if everything was alright while his hand wrapped around your own.
5K notes · View notes
nyimasu · 1 year
Text
IT WON'T FIT! — TOJI FUSHIGURO X FEM!READER
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— CW : toji is a well-hung menace still broke af (what's new), rough!toji, wall sex, implied size kink, this man fucks you raw 24/7, is 'girl' a pet name?, cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, slight teasing, double penetration at the end (monsterfucking), squirting
— WORD COUNT : 1.5k┊AO3 LINK
NOTE : well, this takes place in the jjk verse and nothing I say can justify my horniness lmao I wrote this at 2am because toji always comes back to remind me why I'm so down bad for him (ssh don't tell geto)
enjoy!
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Toji is a man on a mission tonight. That being to fuck you into oblivion.
"Come on, be a good girl and stay still," his fist lands a hair’s breadth away from your face pressed against the wall, hips snapping against yours in a dance of curses laced with moans erupting from you both. He hides his nose in your hair as his next words hit you. 
"I want your pussy to milk me dry again.
I said don't move."
You squirm anyway, feeling his tongue lick a fat stripe of your tensed neck to then bite it as his calloused, experienced fingers roam your body to get rid of what's left of your clothes. You hear the fabric tear apart under Toji's touch, pooling at your feet, shreds of the shirt flying around when the groan the man lets out when you try to look at him from above your shoulder. It's primal, the one lions use to chase away other predators when eating.
He's possessive over his precious, little toy.
"T-Toji."
A sharp hiss on his part, followed by a merciless thrust that shuts you up with a wail. He is practically rutting into you.
Your eyes roll in the back of your head as his whisper grazes the shell of your ear, "Want new clothes? I'll get you new ones after my cum fills every hole of you, girl."
His cock has been kissing your cervix for a good minute, bruising and hitting it with his monstrous cock. The first time you saw it you were certain it wasn’t going to fit. You still wonder the same, but it always fills you to the brim with little to no effort. 
Toji always makes sure of that.
The drag of his dick is so delicious, grazing your walls — no, clogging them with its size like occluded pipes ready to burst yet the slick wetness you're so drenched in helps him move in and out of you in smooth, calculated moves you find maddening.
Every time its head collides with that sweet, intimate spot all you can see are flickering stars, but today there are so many more than usual, getting closer to you by the minute. They just get brighter, hotter and you feel them coat your eyelashes and cheeks in flocks until all you can see are them. Liquid stars falling from your eyes and he's your favourite star seeker.
His grip on you tightens as the fist still close to your face opens up, palm digging into your open mouth to suppress yet another desperate moan from you. 
What other women said about him is true. Before your paths crossed, you had listened to them without thinking much of it. But now, as he is using you as his personal cum dumpster against the wall of some run-down bar in Tokyo, you know they were right.
How Toji Fushiguro's stamina is as endless as the arsenal of cursed tools in his possession.
How he doesn't stop until his semen overwrite your own blood, marking you permanently as his.
How lewd is the sound of skin slapping against skin, muscular thighs colliding with your quivering ones in the dead of the night.
But they didn't warn you about his peculiarities, oh no.
Truth is, nobody managed to keep him interested in them for as long as you did. Hell, you still do.
You have him wrapped around your little finger, and he knows it. And a part of him loves it, being desired beyond limits, free to act upon his most twisted urges without the fear of judgement. 
Those sluts he had sex with before are nothing compared to the real deal. You.
Toji is grinning like the maniac he is when his digits pry open your lower lips, stretching them further while he's still buried deep inside your aching pussy. For a moment, the man sees how far he's driven himself into you through the bulge in your lower tummy and groans under his breath. You're so fucking perfect.
You clench around him in response, whipping your head around to see why he’s bucking into you so slowly. It's sloppy, the pace he's just set, and the Sorcerer Killer never half-asses anything.
So why- 
You don’t seem to understand what’s happening until a blunt object between your flush bodies comes out to play, and your hitched breath doesn’t go unnoticed. Startled, you look down to see the familiar shape of Toji's cursed spirit snaking around his leg and up to the hip bone, poking your entrance already full of his master’s cock.
Nope. No way I’m going to indulge him on this one you think to yourself.
"This really won't fit." you say in a daze, but the man hears you the same. And betrayal is around the corner, the first to fall your body, arching on its own at the sensation of the worm’s spongy head delving deeper. Your juices, mixed with Toji’s thick cum leaking out of your cunt, smeared all over it as it rubs itself in the ache between your legs and you gulp, ready to be smothered.
But it’s never enough, not when it comes to Fushiguro.     
Apparently your eyes are speaking louder than words because the man’s gaze is on you before you can look away. His green eyes bore a hole in you, and if he really does, you’re sure he’d find a way to clog it as well with his fingers, his mouth or some other tool of his.
“Aww, my girl wants to back off now? Too bad you can’t,” he coos, faux concern in his tone but it suddenly rises in volume when the hand still on your body. the one that nullified your clothes, slides down to where the cursed spirit is. He strokes it like he would with his cock, and something in the way he does so sends jolts of electricity down your spine.
“You can, girl. Also, we’ve been working non-stop for weeks. Let it take the edge off the stress too, would ya?”
That last sentence blows the air out of your lungs and under your scorching stare, Toji’s finger brushes the worm’s body, motioning for it to move. 
It lasts a second, but it’s more than enough, because the curse pushes into you altogether. It splits you open and you let out a scream. You spread your legs wider to accommodate both, but the stretch is still clawing from within, and it burns with every inch the spirit adds to Toji’s girth. Coated as they are in your releases, the man behind you simply laughs in ecstasy before his dominant hand finds your hair, pushing you flush against the wall again as he resumes pistoning into your pussy with force.
This time, the cursed spirit joins in and all you manage to mumble are strings of Toji's name dying on your lips when his other hand covers flies up to border one of your tits.
The coil in your stomach jumps up and down with each jerk of his in you, the cursed worm following his master’s movements to bring you closer to fold for them.
You do bend forward more for Toji to yank at your roots harder, eliciting sweet sounds from you, until his mouth is on you once more. The scarred tissue surrounding the scar scratches the back of your neck, just like the black shirt he still has on — but everything fades in the background with him so close.
You won’t last long.
“Do you want to cum? Does it feel good to be stuffed like this, uhm?”
“Yes, yes. Tojiii” whining, you stare at him dead in the eye, but lose momentum the second the worm’s head slips off just to dive back in you. Words are trapped in your throat, yet another feeble plea escapes you and hearing that, Toji’s smirk gets bigger.
“Go on, then. Make a mess.”
The softness of his pitch-black locks contrasts with the roughness, tautness of his muscles as he leans closer, his cock and cursed spirit stilling into you as you come with your head falling back on his shoulder, eyelids shut and mouth open. 
That sight alone brings Toji to his own release, and he gets so lost in the feeling of you squeezing his cock that he never stops fucking into you, not even when he spurts creamy ropes in your spasming cunt. That’s why he misses you biting your lower lip, mewling in overstimulation as you squirt all over him.
But when his gaze gets fixated on your parted legs, finally coming down from his high, he takes a double look and the shit-eating grin plastered on his face is the first thing you see after he and the worm slip out and flips you around. 
Before you can say anything his mouth is on yours in a hungry kiss, tongues battling for dominance as his fingers gather your arousal on them, both amused and proud. He steps back enough for you to catch your breath, but not far enough for him to miss your cheeks burning, taunted by the scene before your eyes.
Toji’s digits rest on his tongue, licking them clean as the dim lights of the streetlights show you the wicked man moaning at the taste of your juices.
His eyes soften as he chuckles, “Guess I’ll have to fuck you more often with my cursed spirit if I get you to squirt.
Let’s go steal some clothes now.
I can't have my girl walking around naked.” 
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© azanthys — do not copy, translate or share my works.
7K notes · View notes
thedreamlessnights · 15 days
Note
Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so
Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!
For Your Eyes Only
Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW
Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.
Word Count: 5.8k
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After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.
You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it. 
The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing. 
Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.
What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.
Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long. 
The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.
A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.
Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”
Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”
“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path. 
“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”
“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”
“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”
And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.
“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel. 
You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face. 
Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.
When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.
“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.
“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”
“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”
Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch. 
“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war. 
“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”
“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”
“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”
But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.
Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now. 
“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”
“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.
 “Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.” 
Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same. 
Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.
“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.
“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”
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By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel. 
The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”
It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best. 
Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.
The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too. 
You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees. 
Nothing. You find nothing.
“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”
“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?” 
He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”
“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”
A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”
Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.” 
“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”
“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”
“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”
The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.
“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.
“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”
“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”
You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud. 
“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”
You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.
You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.
Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.
When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything. 
Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”
But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound. 
Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.
Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?
Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.
In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”
Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood. 
“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”
Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”
“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?” 
Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”
He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.
There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.
When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.
The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.
For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision. 
You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?
Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.
“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”
You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.
“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.
He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue. 
Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.
He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.
Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind. 
You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.
He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething. 
And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.
After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief. 
You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.
“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”
He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps. 
You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him. 
After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck. 
Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.
One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.
When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.
Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.
You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 
The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.
“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”
“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.
“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”
“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.
And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.
You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it. 
Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.
He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.
He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.
And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-
And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.
“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”
Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.
“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”
He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”
You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”
He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”
He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-
Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand. 
You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.
Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again. 
He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot. 
For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.
You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.
“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”
And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.
“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.
“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment. 
You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements. 
Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.
You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble. 
If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire. 
He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.
Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”
You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”
He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.
“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”
Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals. 
His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.
You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”
And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.
 You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.
You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.
“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”
And, gods, all you can do is laugh.
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gffa · 4 months
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I have been drifting back to STAR WARS fandom lately and I have been greatly rewarded for it, especially in the gen fic veins, because there have been some banger fics authors have been putting out! And the thing that really gets me in the fannish heart is that there's more and more fics about the Jedi, both for exploring the characters and the culture. I have been able to find multiple fics that have been kind to Mace Windu! I have been able to find multiple fics that explain what attachment actually is to the Jedi and to Star Wars! I have been able to find multiple fics that lift my spirit up or punch me in the feelings in exactly the right way, both for the usual disaster lineage faves, but also for the Jedi as a whole. I'm serious, that means the world to me in this fandom, and I desperately want to share that with you all. LET ME SHOVE FIC AT YOU THAT LOVES THESE CHARACTERS AND THIS WORLD AS MUCH AS I DO!!
FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ wayfinding by night by wrennette, obi-wan & luke & cast, time travel, 10.2k     Before him stood a fellow Jedi, worn and weary with loss. Obi-Wan finds himself on Ahch-To and helps Luke find a path through his grief. ✦ may you inherit his light by notbecauseofvictories, leia & bail & anakin & cast, 2.5k     When your father dies, say the Coruscanti, you are left clutching a star map for a different galaxy. In this, as in many things, Leia is her fathers' daughter. ✦ No Freedom From the Storm (But Peace In Its Midst) by Be_Right_Back, mace & cast, ~1k     Mace is freefalling. On his way down, he meets Hatred, and reaches for Serenity. ✦ "...if you remain his student" by Peppermint_Shamrock, anakin & ahsoka & cast, 3.9k     Ahsoka doesn't leave the Jedi Order. This does not save Anakin. This was never going to save Anakin. Nor stop him. ✦ a distant fire is burning by e_va, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cal, time travel, 47.4k wip     Cal Kestis can move backwards in time (kinda-sorta-not really), and his confrontation with Darth Vader in the Fortress Inquisitorius plays out a lot differently. Fixing the timeline while stuck in his 10-year-old body will be quite the task, but Cal is up to it. He has to be. (Obi-Wan, Anakin, and the clone troopers have no idea what to make of Kenobi's weird new padawan. At least the kid fits in, though.) ✦ No Death, Only the Force by ExtraPenguin, anakin & mace & depa & shmi, 2.8k     Anakin Skywalker is just about to to free his mother from the Tuskens when the Force rudely yanks him to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant – and into Mace Windu's body. Mace, on the other hand, gets tossed into Anakin's body on Tatooine. ✦ Well Met by avocadomoon, obi-wan/padme (unconsumated) & corde & anakin, 19k     "Here and then gone again," Padmé said. "It must be lonely." "Sometimes," Obi-Wan said. "But a Jedi is never truly alone."
THIS FANDOM HAS A HAMMER AND A WHOLE BUNCH OF NAILS AND A REALLY GOOD STAPLE GUN, WE'RE FIXING WHAT CANON BROKE AND NOBODY CAN STOP US NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Begin again by mauvera, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & padme & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 78.9k     Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. ✦ Repetition by Peppermint_Shamrock, cody & obi-wan, time loop, 3k     Cody wakes up from a nightmare on the way to Utapau, again and again.
CANON-COMPLIANT (MOSTLY, UP TO A CERTAIN POINT, WHATEVER) DISASTER LINEAGE: ✦ it's like i can feel time moving by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 5.4k     “Hi,” Anakin says. It's after midnight. “Is everything alright?” “Can’t a man stop by his old master’s room?” Obi-Wan stares at him blankly. “Are you out of food?” ✦ yes, I will take you / I will love you, again by foreverstudent, obi-wan & anakin & cast, time travel, 2.5k     "So you have tried, Padawan." Qui-Gon takes a moment, and his expression is steely but not unkind--the one Obi-Wan remembers from particularly grueling training sessions. "Would you try again, if you had the chance?" OWK!Obi-Wan gets another chance, with a child he once left behind. ✦ No Good Deed Goes Unpunished by kittona, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.1k     Anakin gets a bit overprotective when his loved ones are sick. Luckily, he has the best home remedy for a cold. ✦ nothing a cup of tea can't fix by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.5k     when Anakin shows up to Obi-Wan's quarters in the middle of the night, the Jedi Master knows something has gone awry. answering Anakin's desperate cry for help, Obi-Wan is reminded of how very, very prone to dramatics his former padawan and grand padawan are. or Ahsoka gets sick and Anakin flips his shit. ✦ Stick Figures by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 2k     war is hard. war is draining. to make it more bearable, little mementos* are routinely given. *mementos: encouraging notes, funny little drawings, little gifts, fun snacks, and poems which might get Anakin in trouble. ✦ When the Ground Breaks by stolen_pen_name23, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 4.7k     An earthquake causes devastation on the planet of Berchest. Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka work together to help save civilians until disaster pulls them apart. ✦ never fear, young one by marverse, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 6.2k     Ever since her first day of being a padawan, Ahsoka Tano remembers the words that Master Skywalker had once told her. And every time, she wonders, wonders, and wonders. ✦ the street's a little kinder when you're home by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin, 5.2k     "So catch me up," Anakin says. "What did I miss?” Nothing. Nothing happens when you’re gone. “Oh, the usual.” [or: anakin goes missing. obi-wan doesn't handle it well.] ✦ holding anchor by foreverstudent, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 3.2k     At the landing of Point Rain, an injured Obi-Wan allows himself to be sentimental over his former padawan, and Anakin patches up his old master. ✦ Nothing to Say by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & satine, 3.2k     (or: Anakin and Satine don’t know how to talk to each other. Until they remember the very important thing they have in common.) ✦ Aggressive Negotiations by SkyBlue1309, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 2.2k     People forget that Anakin was raised by the Negotiator. He was bound to pick up on a thing or two. ✦ At The Window by Peppermint_Shamrock, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k     In the early days of Anakin's apprenticeship, Obi-Wan searches for him in the Temple. ✦ The Words by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin, 3.9k     Obi-Wan Kenobi has never said I love you in his life. He can say a lot of other things, though.
JEDI CULTURE AND WORLDBUILDING AND CELEBRATION: ✦ Refractions of Light by Independence1776, ezra & kanan, 1.3k     Kanan celebrates a Jedi holiday with Ezra. ✦ The grand outing by Ingata, dooku & sifo-dyas & obi-wan & bant & garen & reeft & yoda & cast, 4.5k     Eight younglings and two Jedi masters on a field trip. What could possibly go wrong? ✦ into the statue that breathes by spoonks, obi-wan & feemor & cast, 8.5k     The night watch in the garden was supposed to be the calmest of them all. No mischievous Padawans “sneaking” in or out, or ne’er-do-well civilians conducting “business” around the lower-level entrances that they didn’t know existed. No the gardens was still, and it was like time was frozen in ice that slowly melted away with the rising of the sun. A slow drip, drip— Drip. Immediately Feemor turned towards the central waterfall. Someone was standing there. Whoever they were, they were small and moved through katas with their hands open like a greeting. ✦ The Temple vs. Order 66 by LauraBWrites, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cody & jedi & jedi temple, 3.9k     The Temple cannot defy the Will of the Force. But it can, it will prepare for the possible outcomes. It can damn well fight back. ✦ We Three Runaways. by Aethir, obi-wan & depa & komari, 2.7k     In which Depa and Obi-Wan bond, and a new sister is found. ✦ A Short Break by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & yoda, ~1k     Luke complains about his training, and asks about Jedi training of old. ✦ we are made of our longest days by bereft_of_frogs, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 4.4k     Two years after the events of The Phantom Menace, Obi-Wan and his new apprentice are called to a remote moon to fetch a baby who’s showing signs of a rare, unique power. On their journey home, Obi-Wan reflects on the last child he brought to the Temple and catches a faint glimpse of three possibly entwining futures.
I AM A PREQUELS ERA BITCH AND I'M MAKING THAT EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEM: ✦ the salle at dawn by maragny, anakin & mace, 1.5k wip     Master Windu is the best duellist in the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker is seventeen, he duels Mace for the first time, and it ruins both of them for anyone else. ✦ Saving People Counts as Revenge, Right? by ImperialKatwala, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, time travel, 4.3k wip     Count Dooku of Serenno is an intelligent man. His methods may be a bit severe, and he may not be allowed true freedom to plan campaigns in the war he helped create, but he has always had an eye for strategy. Moving the pieces around the board and plotting out where they will need to be next. So, when he opens his eyes after Anakin Skywalker cut his head off, he knows to take a moment to assess what’s going on. ✦ if I could find solid ground again by maragny, anakin & depa, 1.5k     “You never told me what we’re doing today,” Anakin says, a little hesitant. “I…I don’t know much about Jedi things yet.” "Good thing we’re not doing Jedi things, then,” Depa replies. “We’re cooking!” Or, Anakin and Depa, finding their places in their family. ✦ Birds Fly in Different Directions by Triscribe, jedi & clones, time travel, 14.6k     In the corridor beyond her quarters, other Jedi were emerging from their own doors, most of them wide-eyed with shock. A few merely looked blearily concerned, and Aayla heard snatches of questions as she darted past, queries as to whether everyone experienced the same distressing vision. But those who clutched at their chests or throats, their weak points- those Jedi bore a muted horror in their eyes, and Aayla didn’t doubt they’d just suffered their own betrayals from trusted men.
✦ The Master, The Padawan, and The Force by Pandora151, padme & ahsoka, 1.9k     Padmé Naberrie was never one to procrastinate. More than that, she maintained a steady, consistent schedule — something that she’d managed to keep ever since she was a Padawan. She was always on top of everything, from her responsibilities with the war to training her own Padawan, Ahsoka. She was well-known throughout the Order for being steady, reliable. And most notably, no matter what, she didn’t just forget things. Which made her current situation all the more…ridiculous. ✦ Off-by-one Error by Jessepinwheel, obi-wan & cast, 12.2k     A stranger appears in the Jedi Temple. Nobody knows who he is or where he came from. Nobody knows what has happened to him except that it must have been something truly terrible. The stranger's name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. ✦ splinters of light by wrennette, dooku & jocasta & sifo-dyas & yoda & jaster & jango & cast, time travel, 22.5k     When Dooku's dying consciousness was sent back into his younger body, at first he remembered only that something important would happen on Korda VI, and soon. His investigations brought both clarity and confusion, and a conviction that he must atone for evils not yet enacted. ✦ The Road that Reaches by ExtraPenguin, anakin & mace & yoda & depa & shmi, 11.5k     As the Council sits down on Naboo to consider the newly-knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi's request to take young Anakin Skywalker as his padawan, they're informed of what transpired on Tatooine – and that Anakin used to be a slave. Mace Windu goes to interview the young child to confirm this, and gets rather more than he signed up for. ✦ the salle at dawn by maragny, anakin &/ mace, 5.1k     Master Windu is the best duellist in the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker is seventeen, he duels Mace for the first time, and it ruins both of them for anyone else. ✦ through the dark (like two flames) by treescape, kanan/cal & quinlan, 5.3k     A Jedi found him on Bracca. Or, in the weeks after Order 66, Cal Kestis and Caleb Dume are reunited on Jabiim. Five years late, on the run from Inquisitors, they have a decision to make. ✦ Resilience by TemporaryUniverse, obi-wan & mace, 3.3k     Twelve years after his defeat at the Battle of Naboo, Obi-Wan's greatest enemy has returned from the dead. Obi-Wan has faced Maul and lost. Now it is time to face himself. ✦ The Buried Truth is Your Favorite Lie by Peppermint_Shamrock, dooku & yoda, ~1k     Dooku tries and fails to leave the past behind. ✦ Hanging On by the Last Threads of Our Hope by IllyanaA, ahsoka & rex, 5.2k     Ahsoka and Rex have endured too much. After the Fall, they stay together until they can't, but the Force has a way of bringing them back together. It's a fact for which both of them are immeasurably grateful.
MULTIGENERATIONAL STAR WARS IS THE BEST STAR WARS: ✦ Future Tense by CeruleanTactician, obi-wan & anakin & luke, time travel, 1.4k     Obi-Wan and Anakin find themselves twenty years in the future, where they meet a young man by the name of Luke Skywalker. ✦ Keepsakes by Coalmine301, obi-wan & leia, 2k     “You were the one who gave me my bantha, weren’t you?” “Yes,” Obi-wan nodded with a small smile. “Your father told me they were your favorite animal. At least then it was.” ✦ Why the Sith Don't Have Class Reunions by Peppermint_Shamrock, anakin & palpatine & maul & dooku & ventress, time travel, 1.9k     Sith apprentices rarely agree with one another (there’s a reason for the Rule of Two, after all), but Darth Sidious is starting to think that it’s worse when they do. ✦ My Dear Padawan by Tulak_Hord, luke & yoda & palpatine, time travel, 3.2k     In which a time-travelling Luke Skywalker successfully saves the Galaxy in perhaps the most horrifying manner imaginable. ✦ The Return by Pandora151, obi-wan & leia & haja, 1.4k     Haja wonders about the others. He wonders about the people he’s sent to the Path from Daiyu — not just Kenobi and the Princess, but that Force-sensitive boy and his mother, the Nautolan teenager from a few weeks ago, the young Kel Dor child and his even younger siblings. Did they all make it home? Are they safe? Was all of this worth it? ✦ Message From Guiding Light by Batsutousai, obi-wan & leia & mace, time travel, 2.2k     Ben and Leia never make it to Mapuzo on the borrowed supply shuttle, instead finding themselves in the middle of the Clone Wars.
FRIENDSHIP WITH CANON ENDED, THIS COOL AU IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND NOW: ✦ Not A Moment Too Soon by Triscribe, depa & kanan & cast, 2k     The first time she stumbled, her padawan said nothing, simply offering his shoulder for her to lean on. ✦ Parallel Lines by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin, time travel, time loop, 10.7k     Darth Vader leans back in his chair, allowing a small smile to form on his lips, hidden by his helmet. “There is no escape from this, Obi-Wan,” he utters. He looks down at the neat line of text, and the Force echoes his words. “No escape from the past.” ✦ through the dark (like two flames) by treescape, ca/kanan & quinlan, 5.3k     A Jedi found him on Bracca. Or, in the weeks after Order 66, Cal Kestis and Caleb Dume are reunited on Jabiim. Five years late, on the run from Inquisitors, they have a decision to make. ✦ Loth-Cats and Loth-Rats by TessaDoesThings, mace & depa & kanan & ezra, 19k     All Mace Windu wanted out of the Post-Clone Wars world was a simple trip with his lineage to the long-forgotten Jedi Temples of the Outer Rim. However, on Lothal, the three might have bitten off more than they expected. The Republic may have triumphed, but the roots of what could have become the empire are gripped in the corners of the galaxy, and it might be time for some aggressive space weeding. Or a coup d'etat. That would work too. ✦ a princess, a farmer, a teacher by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & luke & leia & bail, 1.4k     Early in the morning, a girl and few men knock on a door. They don't wear anything resembling a soldier, but Obi-Wan has been a soldier long enough to notice the tense shoulders and wary looks beneath civilian clothing. She doesn't wear anything resembling a princess, but Obi-Wan knows these fierce eyes and grace coming from a righteous cause. or A New Hope AU where Vader doesn't attack Leia's ship and Leia herself delivers the news to Obi-Wan and consequently Obi-Wan doesn't die. ✦ What I Wouldn't Give To See Your Ghost by Triscribe , depa & kanan & cast, time travel, 1.2k     “Who are you?” Depa demanded, externally calm but internally frantic. “What is this place? And where is my padawan?” ✦ when that day comes by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & maul, modern au/reincarnation au, 44.8k     [or: the alternate universe where anakin skywalker has the chance at some new life…but only if he saves the life of a reincarnated obi-wan kenobi. the catch: neither of them know who the other was in the galaxy far, far away…but that might very well change.]
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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we can send in ideas you say 👀 dark! Cory with a reader who’s not so inclined to behave and listen to him, being bratty, turning him away, embarrassing him in public ….. his frail ego would shatter (and who knows what he’d do to her 🫣🫣)
TEMPER TANTRUM
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pairing: president!coriolanus snow x fem!bratty!reader
summary: you were the daughter of one of the richest couples of panem. everything you’ve ever wanted, handed to you. coriolanus had a short temper and you were stubborn. who knows what could happen?
warnings: arguments, bratty reader, public scenes, punishments, kinda smutty, fingering, not proof read i’m lazy
a/n: stand up and fight back to that rude bitch babe
they’d messed up your order. again.
you’d ordered three dresses, all pink and one was too small. you’d already returned it multiple times but apparently the shop owner was incompetent. did he know who you were? the first lady of panem deserved nothing but the best and this imbecile couldn’t even do his job.
you’d give him another chance you figured. “soreen!” you shouted out as you heard the pitter patter of footsteps on the floor. “yes mrs snow?” you sighed, “pull the car around please. we’re going down to the genevieve store.” she nodded before scurrying away to arrange your mode of transportation.
the car ride was smooth, much to your relief. you needed at least one thing to go right today, and the car ride helped boost your morale as you pulled up in front of the aforementioned store. “here we are mrs snow.” your driver spoke as he promptly exited the vehicle to open your door, “thank you phillip.” he tipped his cap to you before shutting your door, “i’ll be waiting ma’am.”
the store was quite large, for someone who hadn’t been there before it was quite easy to lose your way. but you knew exactly where you were headed, walking a path of determination as you reached the front desk. a young lady, clearly disengaged from her job sat filing her nails at the desk. “what do you want?” your face twisted into a disingenuous smile, this was going to be fun, you thought. you cleared your throat as you placed your handbag down with care.
“mrs y/n snow, here for adina?” the girl looked close to tears as a string of apologies fell through her lips, “let me go get him, again, i cannot express my apologies mrs snow.” you’d already turned around to sit at one of the many chairs strewn about.
adina was frantic.
he sure as hell wasn’t expecting the first lady of panem, in his store, by herself. nonetheless, he quickly nodded along to her explanation of her dilemma, the dresses, the sizes, the unresponsive customer aid line.
you’d walked out of the store were five new dresses, all free of cost. a successful day in your eyes. the whisperings were there, of how the last store clerk who’d kept you waiting went out of business. or how the cook whose meal caused you to choke had his hand cut off. mistakes were made in the process of the workers bending over backwards to produce the upmost quality service for the presidents darling wife.
who was known for her own expensive tastes.
and god help anyone who kept her waiting.
the dress was for a charity event that night. coriolanus of course didn’t want to go, but it was seen as beneficial to his own cause to be seen out and about, especially at a high profile event. whereas you on the other hand? you’d ordered three new dresses, five now, two new pairs of heels and that jewellery set you’d been eyeing up for a while.
coriolanus wanted to get through the night, that was it. the office was as stressful as ever, his secretary was out sick, so a fill-in took her place, stuttering every time he spoke to her and messed up his meetings of the day. but since marrying you, coriolanus knew nothing was ever easy with you.
you prided yourself on your unpredictability. to keep people on their toes. you loved being able to stick out from the rest, keep people guessing. and most of all, you loved being seen, admired. you were never one to be tame, coriolanus knew it. you always tested his patience and temper.
but this?
you’d worn a burgundy gown, off the shoulder, floor length and a v-cut too low for his likes. the one dress out of five he’d disapproved of. you’d disobeyed him purposefully, coriolanus hoped you’d grow out of old habits, but again they die hard.
the eyes were on you like vultures, his wife.
he’d deal with you later, just get through the night.
“and that dress! it’s certainly, something.” you didn’t know the girls name, but her face seemed familiar. “why thank you! coriolanus had picked out some others but then again what do men know about women’s fashion?” the woman’s slack jaw caused you to giggle, “well aren’t you fiery! the president has a lot on his hands with you.”
you tossed your hair behind as you took a sip from your glass, “well i’m sure if he can handle a whole country,” you leaned in before whispering, “he can try his best to handle me.” coriolanus saw red. one night, without your antics was all he’d wished for. the dress and your behaviour had sent him over the edge.
“miss.” coriolanus acknowledged the woman as he grabbed a hold of your hand, “president snow! how nice it is to see you here, and your donation! how splendid.” coriolanus’s charm seemed to switch on instantaneously, “anything for the, good cause.” coriolanus couldn’t give a flying fuck about the cause let alone remember what it was. “it’s time for us to go.”
you had an image, pristine and clear. a lovely woman, kind and respectful. at times naive but overall a caring wife. your slick words, which charmed any man or woman, your striking beauty and sweet personality.
but at your core you, like your husband. couldn’t care less, it was one of the reasons you got along so well. it was all a facade and coriolanus was the only person who knew the real you. much to his chagrin, the real you was a total bitch. a smooth talker with a pretty face who got everything she wanted. you’d never wanted to marry him in the first place, so it seemed to be your personal mission to embarrass the poor man.
“if you’re tired then head on home love. i know you need your hours of sleep, cranky without them!” you made him sound like child without his favourite toy, unable to go on until he had it again. “sweetheart, you know we go home together. now come along.” his tone was nothing like the fake warmth it mimicked, you were on thin ice. “yes i know, honey, but you’re not incapable of returning home without me now are you? i’m sure the driver remembered the directions for you.” you pinched his cheek. pinched. his. cheek.
you may as well have started praying for your soul.
so he left, alone.
you had no clue as to why you wanted to stay. it’s not as if there was someone actually worthwhile to engage in conversation with, but you just wanted to be out of the house. you had to soak up your time outside while it lasted you assumed. coriolanus wouldn’t be letting you out anytime soon, especially after what you’d said that night.
the door slammed shut as you hung up your coat next to corio’s. you took a deep breath in before exhaling. it was going to be a long night.
“did you have fun?” corio was sat in a large, plush, arm chair, swirling a drink in his hand. you could only wonder how many he’d had in the hours by himself. “i did.” your voice was gentle, the house quiet in the dead of night. but the large mansion echoed, he would’ve heard you anyways.
“hm.” he feigned interest in your response. all he wanted was to put you in your place. “corio?” he turned to view you, whilst you walked over before situating yourself on his arm chair. but as soon as you did his glass clattered onto the side table as he rose up. “we’re going to bed.” you weren’t sure if he’d snap if you protested, your feet were aching and you found it best not to argue.
you should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy, which is how you ended up fully exposed whilst coriolanus was fully dressed. “please.” you’d been on your back for the last, ten? twenty? “please what?” coriolanus liked to put you in your place, it was one of his favourite things to do since you forgot it so often. “touch me.” his hand slipped into your panties, fingers sliding into your already soaking hole as you clutched onto his shoulders.
he’d been teasing you for what felt like forever and you felt you were finally done with it. “close your eyes.” he whispered as his fingers slid out, eliciting a whine from your throat, but you listened, closing your eyes, wondering what he’d do.
it’d been a minute since corio spoke and you were feeling restless. on one hand you could wait for him to speak up, allow you to open your eyes. on the other, you opened them to peek at what he was doing and he dragged out your punishment.
and to your right lay your husband, asleep. “corio!” you groaned out before shoving his shoulder, “you didn’t think i was going to fuck you tonight? after the shit you pulled? you have fingers, use them.” and coriolanus fell asleep soundly to your attempts to finish off without him.
now that, would teach you a lesson.
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reiderwriter · 5 months
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hii!! can you do 49 and 68 please??? i love ur writing so much btw
prompts: #49 - "I'm so fucking obsessed with you." #68 - "Sit on my face."
A/N: Thank you for much for requesting! Munch Spencer for the win once again! Not to sound like a broken record, but I think I'm physically incapable of writing a smut that I dont somehow become obsessive over 🫡 I hope you like it!!
Warnings: possessive Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, alight come play, penetrative sex, creampie, just some very obsessive writing ngl. 18+ MINORS DNI (that means do not interact for those of you who still don't understand!!)
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You weren't sure if you were going to give into him.
You know it'd taken a lot of courage for the man to ask you out, you'd seen first hand that he threw himself head first into relationships, and that meant he was entirely careful about kindling them.
But you'd been so shocked by Spencer Reid's admission that he was romantically interested in you that you'd all but gaped at him the entire time he stood there talking you through it.
After he'd finished, you still didn't know what to say, you just knew that your entire body was aflame with the words he'd dropped in the space between you, and you were vaguely aware that your phone had clattered to the floor, forgotten.
“Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me take you on a date? Please?”
He stood fidgeting in front of you and you almost apologised but your tongue still wouldn't move accurately.
You swallowed, and calmed your heart from the tempest it was running through in your chest to answer him.
“I need some time to think. We work together, it's going to be complicated and I want to make sure I think this through.” He'd politely agreed to that and seen himself out of your apartment, having appeared on your doorstep at near midnight on a work night.
And two weeks later, you were no closer to your answer.
But Spencer seemed to have grown bolder in his advances. He seemed to have taken your entire plight of never realising he was into you to heart, though. Because you sure as hell knew where he stood now.
He used every excuse to put his hands on you.
He came up behind you, putting his hands on your waist as he slid past you, moving you this way and that to arrive at his intended destination.
You'd found that a most annoying male trait in the past, but when Spencer attempted it, you practically leaned into his heat, shivering each time his hands brushed you.
He'd taken to brushing your hair out of your eyes as well, tucking it behind your ear in front of others, and, embarrassingly enough, tying it up for you with one of his own hair elastics.
You'd frozen in the moment as you leaned down to examine some footprints on a case, complaining your hair was in your face as he immediately came up behind you and began gently pulling it up himself.
His fingers moved skillfully, and felt soothing on your scalp as he made sure to get every hair.
You couldn't even say a word of thanks as you sat there wondering what the fuck had just happened, and if anyone else had been witness to it.
Luckily, no one had, and you could only contemplate it alone.
And contemplate it you did. In bed. In the shower. In your sleep. You couldn't stop contemplating it.
You couldn't seem to step over the boundary of professional working relationship to more, though.
So you weren't exactly surprised when he showed back up on your doorstep a month later.
“Spencer. Did something happen?” you breathed a slow sigh as you opened the door to see him standing there, still and tense, as if he was ready to spring an attack at any second.
“I'm obsessed with you.” His voice was low as he took a slow step forward, letting his gaze rest on your lips, and not moving it as he continued his path forward.
“I'm obsessed with you and I've tried to show you that for the last month, and god, please you have to please release me from this if you can't accept it.” He took another step closer and then he was in your apartment and closing the door behind him, blocking out the cold that had your nipples hardening. You assumed it was the cold.
“I think about how you would taste daily, how you would smell, how you would feel wrapped around me, the sounds you would make. I think about any other man getting close to you and I feel angry and sad and my chest physically aches.”
“I think about how I could make you happy, how you'd smile at me every morning,” his hand hesitantly reached up to tuck another stray hair behind your ear as he stuttered through yet another confession.
He was close now, so close your back was pressed against a wall as you resisted your chest meeting his.
“I will leave and never mention this or touch you again if you can't take that on, but if even one part of you thinks this is an experience you want…”
You finally looked into his eyes as your fingertips rushed forward to touch him, darting out to feel his chest and press yourself further into his warmth.
The physical confirmation must have been enough, as in moments his lips were dropping to meet your own in a sweet, but still strong kiss.
He moved achingly slowly as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further in to his atmosphere, taking each small caress as an indulgence, each run of your lips across his as a blessing coated in lust.
He went so luxuriously slow, that you had to be the one to pull him in closer, to give into the passion threatening to throttle you from inside out.
You tugged him back through your apartment to your bed, making sure to rid him of his coat as you went, lips still exploring each other as you did. His hands held you firmly, wrapping you up in a strong embrace even as you needed him to move faster, to touch, caress, tease, and pleasure you.
You pushed him away when your back hit another wall, only so you could get some air between you as you waited for the next logical step in the direction you were headed.
“Spencer, I want you to make love to me.” You always hated that phrase, feeling it was so cheesy and overly sentimental, and yet that was the only way you could describe what you wanted from him.
He looked at you and suddenly, it was as if a flip had switched inside him. His slow, discovering kisses became bruising and hot as he marked his way down your neck, eager to please and desperate to know all of you. Your body was another book Spencer needed to read, more knowledge for him to acquire and never forget, never let go of.
Gently raising you off the ground, he pinned you against the wall, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his notable arousal through his clothes. He began divesting you of yours, the casual t-shirt you'd slipped into after work being easy work for his hands, sweatpants following suit as he memorised every inch of flesh visible to him.
With two hands firmly cradling your ass, he made his way into your bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, you in hand. Your core rubbed over his cock, and a deep dissatisfaction crept up your body. You were empty and you wanted so badly for him to fill you.
Your need became a great force clawing at his clothes, rocking your hips into him needing as you scrambled button after button, wishing your hands would obey your mind.
He groaned under you, the sound catching you off-guard and flooding your panties even more. He caught your hips and steadied your pace as you worked yourself up to a high without ever having fully touched him.
“Y/N…” He breathed it out like a prayer and a curse combined, pushing your hips down tighter as he tried to put an end to your elicit movements.
“Y/N stop, I want…” His lips finally left your neck as he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look directly into yours.
“Sit on my face.” It was a demand, one that wouldn't be ignored, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to ignore it.
He laid himself down more comfortably on the bed, pulling you down with him as he stroked small circles into your lower back.
His hands worked down until they reached the waistband of your panties, hooked a finger under them and slowly dragged them off your ass, forcing your hips up to get them further away from his prize.
“Please, Y/N. Please sit on my face.” You moaned at the request again, dropping one final messy kiss to his lips before climbing up and over his head.
You completed the job he started with your underwear, deciding to go the extra mile and discard your bra as well. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and shifted your cunt to better suit his own position, and you braced yourself as he pulled you closer to his devilish tongue.
The first swipe of it was so foreign that you almost bolted upright like a cat dropped into a bathtub. But he held you fast and pulled you right back down as he began his meal. He'd said his prayers, and now he was ready to indulge himself in the taste he'd been craving for the last month.
You braced your hands on the metal headboard of your bed, thankful that you lived alone as you knew there was no way of muffling the noises that were beginning to toll off your tongue.
Head thrown back in pleasure, it was all you could do to not beg him to never stop, to keep up your pleausure for eternity, even as he left himself unsatisfied and rock hard.
Everytike you pulled slightly back from the stimulation, he pulled you even further in, until you were sure he couldn't breath, his mouth and nose so lost in your heat and so intent on your pleasure.
You almost forgot it was his face below you, and started desperately riding him, grinding your clit into anything that would allow for some friction.
Every few minutes he came up for a larger breath, letting his fingers slip inside you as he explored your every reaction.
There was only so much you could take, and apparently tongue and fingers was just that step too far, as you let your body convulse over him.
He let you ride it out, drinking in every drop of juice that escaped you, finally getting that taste he'd become so obsessed with discovering.
When you finally pulled away, his lips and chin were slick with your arousal, and his face was awash with desire.
A tiny push had you on your back as he crawled up between your legs again, taking the time to unclassified his pants and pull them off, discarding them along eith the shirt you'd so painstakingly unbuttoned for him.
“I am going to make love to you, Y/N, and you are going to be mine. You'll always be mine.” His forehead rested against your own as he finally slid inside of you, sheathing his whole cock inside of you as it expanded with his intrusion, trying to find room for him.
He fit like a glove, provided the glove felt this fucking good, so warm and comforting to know he was filling you completely.
His thrusts began and you were almost overwhelmed by the sheer arousal he inspired in each heartbeat.
Wanton moans left your mouth as words failed you, tongue lolling about as you desperately wished he'd slip his head down to let you taste yourself on him.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said, tightening his grip on your hips so much you were sure his nails were going to leave tiny crescents carved into your very bones.
Your second orgasm snuck up on you, hips suddenly jolting up as if they'd a mind of their own, milking his cock as he whimpered at the sudden tightness.
“Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you I love you so much,” the words were overwhelming as you struggled to speak through the after shocks of your climax, legs still twitching even as he spilled his seed inside of you.
“Now you're mine,” he whispered into your ear as he again found a stray lock of your hair and tugged it right back behind your ear, as if it would help you to see him that much clearer.
Your vision was already so filled with him though, that you were sure it would not matter how far he was or how obstructed your view, he would be the only thing you saw for the rest of your life.
Maybe you were a little obsessed with him as well.
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ghouljams · 4 months
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Missing (part 2) Tags: Ghost x f!reader/f!oc, 1870s cowboy au, kidnapping, guns, violence, damsel not exactly in distress Summary: Ghost finds the men that took his wife, and is reminded exactly why he fell for her in the first place. Part 1
The gag is overkill.
Although you suppose after hours of your swearing and threats, the multiple people you've bitten, and all the spitting in your captor's faces, it's reasonable. They've had to change your bindings at least three times, your hands bound in front, then moved to being bound behind your back, now your legs roped together as well. Fuckers can barely tie a decent knot, it's their fault you keep getting loose. The fact that they've confidently left you without a blindfold is a wonder. You can't imagine what they have to be so sure of themselves over.
You rub your wrists against one of the rocks poking you in the back, working the rope over the rough surface. It's not the sharpest thing around, but then again neither is the asshole "watching" you. He learned to keep his hands to himself after the second time you headbutted him. Even dogs know what "no" means.
You narrow your eyes at him, glare as he levels his pistol on you and makes a faux firing noise. When you get your hands on him...
A commotion further up in the cave draws your attention. Gunshots and shouting are never a good sign. You turn your head to listen, eyeing the opening to your little prison area. You watcher looks confident, or at least looks like he's trying to be confident. Moron. You work your ropes a little faster and feel the knot come loose. A last tug and you have to hold back a sigh feeling the rope untangle and fall to the ground.
You make a noise to try and get your watch's attention, he glances at you before fixing his eyes back on the entrance. You let out an exasperated breath and try again, louder, and really glare at him to make your point. "Shut up," He tells you. You give your best impression of fear and scream behind your gag. You don't particularly care if whoever's outside hears you, but it makes your watch crouch in front of you and wave his gun for you to see. "If you don't shut up, I'll give you somethin' to scream about," He threatens, just long enough for you to smash your head into his nose.
When he reels back to clutch his nose you make a grab for his pistol. It's enough of a surprise to keep his grip loose, and you're quick to clock him with the butt of the gun as soon as it's in your hands. You hit his temple square on and the man crumbles to the side. Asshole. You tug your gag down around your neck and debate shooting the guy as you untie the knots holding your ankles together. You suppose you have more important problems, you concede grabbing the rifle leaned next to his chair.
You check that it's loaded and holster the pistol in your skirt as best you can. "You just stay there, I'm gonna go find a ride." You tell the, you think he's unconscious, man on the ground. He doesn't object.
The commotion at the mouth of the cave seems to have drawn most of the outlaws hiding out in it, but that doesn't stop you from running into the few cowards that are still in the back. You dispatch them quickly, your rifle raised as you move through the cave's tunnel. It's too bad cowards are slow shots, smart of them to carry extra ammunition though. You swipe one of their hats, since they so rudely tossed yours.
You reload as you move, eyes darting between your hands and your way out. It's not a big cave, but you're happy to know the way out. Not a big crew either you decide, shooting the first man to see you as you find yourself in the open air of the main cavern. You're happy to see a familiar silhouette in the midst of the chaos near the mouth of the cave. The setting sun gives your husband a nice unearthly glow to him. You smash your rifle into the gut of the man that tries to come up behind you, and shoot another just to clear your path. You're not particularly in the mood for being grabbed again.
"What took you so long?" You yell, watching Ghost shoot a man twice between the eyes.
"Was picking up your wedding gift," He yells back, voice rough from a lack of sleep. At least he still has the energy to make jokes and shoot straight. He stalks over to you, flipping his pistol to bash the butt into the temple of the first man to try and stop him.
"Hell of a honeymoon," You grumble, shaking your head. Ghost stops in front of you his eyes fixed on your growing smile. "Hey there pretty boy," You grin, he snorts.
"Darlin'," He greets you with a quick tip of his head, "got a horse waitin' if you're ready."
"Any of these fools have a bounty on 'em?" You ask, glancing around your husband to eye the corpses littering the cave.
"Couple," He tells you, holding your chin to turn your head, inspecting you for injuries, "You look good."
You hum, "Better than the guys who were watching me." Ghost's eyes crinkle behind his mask, brown and warmly affectionate. Your heart clenches in your chest, he looks so proud of you.
"Good." He tugs his mask up and you catch the quirk of his smile, the tug of the scars around his mouth, just before he kisses you.
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radiance1 · 6 months
Text
Danny was having a good night, laying down on his side and purring contentedly while his tail swayed lazily. He was living a good life nowadays, freed from his responsibilities as the eternal prince of the Infinite Realms and taking on the mantle of the head of a Familia.
Perhaps, one of these days, he should try and find the wizard who turned him into a cat and thank them for it. What would a wizard even like anyway?
He pondered on that for a moment, perhaps a magical artifact or another could suffice? He stretched. Oh well, it didn't matter right now, he wasn't going to do it so soon anyways.
He opened his mouth, a yawn escaping him as he finished his stretch, tongue peeking out to lick his lips. He changed his position to something more comfortable, sinking into the lavishly soft pillows and reminding himself to get Catwoman something once again for giving him this high-quality cat bed.
Custom made too, multiple times bigger than him, the softest pillows he's ever felt and smelling extremely good. Even when multiple others forced themselves into his bed, even though they had their own as a gift from her as well.
Perhaps another diamond is in order?
His ears perked up as the sound a crash echoed throughout the warehouse, and he lazily peeked an eye open as the sound of paws running towards his direction made themselves known.
His nose twitched, the familiar scent of iron controlling the air as he sighed.
Kevin.
"Graaaaaaaaaaaamps!" A cat of what was once white fur, now stained with blood, skidded to a stop in front of him. Danny sighed once more, other eye opening as he looked at his first, and what others call his second-in-command. "I'm not that old, 150 is still quite young Kevin." He spoke calmly, no real heat in his voice and instead, amusement.
Kevin, predictably, ignored him. "You won't believe what happened tonight." Kevin then turned cheeky, stepping forwards towards his bed, and Danny had half a mind to try and prevent him from staining his bed, before discarding that thought just as quickly. "Guess!"
Danny's stare turned flat, and he had an urge to facepaw. Instead, he sighed, staring at the blood staining the other's fur before resting his head back on his bed. "You died again, didn't you?"
"Yep!" Kevin stepped onto the bed, both face and reply cheerful as the sun. "But that's not it!" Kevin bounced his way over to the elder cat, bloody pawprints marking his path on the previously clean bed.
Danny sniffed, a faint unknown tickling his nose before Kevin flopped on top of him, the blood stains on the smaller cat rubbing off on him, causing Danny to shift position, one that would support the younger better. "Oh, really?" He inquired, reaching out to grasp a glass shard from Kevin's side and placing it onto the bed.
"Yea! I fought spark, the spark!" Kevin purred, tail swishing behind him. "Can you believe it!?"
Danny hummed, picking another shard of glass from his first's skin.
"She was suuuuuper strong! Not stronger than you obviously, but she was really tough, I almost couldn't keep up with her!" Danny used a paw to silently request for Kevin to turn, and he did, with Danny plucking another shard from his skin. "She went all woosh, and boom! And then I went swish, and whish and she could barely touch me!"
"Mhm." Danny shifted, gently lowering the other, younger cat from off of him and instead to his side onto his stomach, reaching over to pick the shards from his back. "Then, then she used her power and then I was going fwoosh! Then I crashed into a nearby window and then we had to scatter because the human inside was mad about it." Kevin chirped, easily moving through his story despite the biggest pieces of glass being currently taken out of his back. "Then I ran all the way here because I wanted to tell you about it!"
"That's nice Kevin," Once he was done, Danny reached forward to lick the other on his head, his tail moving forward-the fur turning from black to glowing white- and flinging the shards of glass up through the air and into the rafters. "However." Danny's speech turned from that of a cat to one of a more humane-like tongue, his eyes narrowing at the form of one of those vigilantes running around the city- this one seems to be the Robin, based on his description of the hero- took the thrown shards of glass as a sign to drop down onto the ground.
"It seems you've managed to have drawn one of the humans into our territory in your excitement." Danny rubbed his chin against Kevin's head, uncaring for the blood soaking into his fur. "I don't blame you, that strain of human is known to be quite sneaky when they want to be."
Robin stood up, cape shrouding his form from ankle to shoulders. He narrowed his eyes at the scene, and Danny, in turn, narrowed his own as the rest of his fur turned glowing white, toxic green eyes staring at the lone human in a den of cats.
A silent threat.
"Care to explain, human known as Robin?"
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