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#this whole book puts me in a mood
talentforlying · 2 months
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father grimaldi: forgive me, lord, for i have sinned. constantine: — understatement of the bloody century, that is. father grimaldi: the chapel is closed to the public! who are you? how did you get in here . . .? constantine: did you know vatican city has the highest per-capita crime rate of any nation state in the world? i'd have thought a touch of breaking and entering's pretty much par for the course around here.
so #1, an undeniable slay.
#2, how long do we think he was sitting in the confessional booth waiting for the guy to wake up from ellie's fake vision quest. like an hour? checking his light, practicing his Big Reveal Pose TM? he probably brought a book with him and just shoved it underneath the seat cushion when it was time to show off.
#3, knowing how intensely he studied & continues to study in order to teach himself magic at such an absurdly advanced level without any teachers to formally guide him? and how that level of dedication would absolutely carry over into researching a mark / making sure he had every corner of a confidence scheme nailed down pat? i like to imagine that the day before this meeting was spent with his severely under-caffeinated ass parked at a public library computer, squinting at articles for 'most important things to know about vatican city before you travel' or 'top 10 little-known facts about vatican city' and using the back of his boarding pass to take notes on what would be the best throwaway line to blow off all the usual questions with.
also, he probably woke up still in his travel clothes less than two hours before this scene and had to hustle to get suited up in time for his Dramatic Apparition. the demon blood was boiling so bad in that chapel that it was giving him a killer migraine. he didn't get breakfast so his stomach was growling the ENTIRE time. but all that meant was he had plenty of room to eat UP the runway and that's EXACTLY what the fuck he did.i'm
#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.#always torn in half between 'john is a freaky little weirdo who just Knows Things and Picks Up Vibes and it usually works for him'#and 'john is the most Normal Dude in the whole london occult scene he just works w/ magic like a grad student prepping for finals week'#and you know what? the answer is always 'Both. Both is good.'#also on the one hand i'm truly obsessed with the idea of john just?? Always having a bunch of weird trivia available w/ his eidetic memory#like he read about the apostolic palace once in a book when he was with the peace convoy and his brain latched onto it forever#and it just Happens to become convenient later on and this happens VERY often and no one ever really knows how he does it#but there is a real real charm in considering that he's still Just A Guy beneath all the layers of false confidence and mysticism#still someone who had to work to get to where he is now and who will always have to work to Maintain as well#i like the mental image of him pacing around his temporary digs with index cards and drilling all the necessary details for the scam#or him and ellie getting blasted the night before and dramatically playing out their Big Final Confrontation to iron out all the beats#you just Know they were laughing til they cried workshopping shit like 'MY OLD ADVERSARY! WE MEET AGAIN!' and 'DO YOUR WORST HELLSPAWN!'#still trying to keep straight faces the day of the fake fight while drastically improvising to try and throw each other off their game#idk!!! i always enjoy the Strange and Off-Putting things about him but all of the Really Really Human stuff is also just. so so precious#we always get to see The Myth The Legend as shaped by the errors of The Man. but especially in later years actually SEEING The Man gets rar#all this to say that for every perfectly executed and properly horrifying loom out of the shadows with a glimmer of his freaky glowing eyes#there is always at LEAST half an hour or more practicing angles + expressions + mood lighting in the mirror going on behind the scenes#and that is very very special to me!!!!#( headcanons. ) I'M JUST LIKE THE BASTARDS I'VE HATED ALL ME LIFE.#( visage. ) AND I'M A BASTARD.#sched.
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ofthesamewhole · 1 year
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The tiktokification of music is so exhausting.
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tildexart · 4 months
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The Magnus Archives (Season One) Production Design Project
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Hello everyone! Let me introduce myself- I'm Tilda (or Tilde), and I'm want to be a production designer.
Production designers create the overall look of a piece of media. From costumes, lighting, environments, props, etc., these designers make sure that everything looks cohesive and sets the mood.
So, I thought it would be fun to put my skills to the test by designing season one of The Magnus Archives. My winter break started as soon as I became interested in the show. Needless to say, a new obsession and an abundance of free time go well together.
You may have seen these illustrations posted separately, this is a master post of the whole project. My thoughts, processes, and critiques are all included under the cut. If you read them, I hope you enjoy! If, not, thank you for supporting my work regardless.
The Characters
When designing these characters, I tried to avoid being influenced by fan interpretations. Though, that was a challenge (especially with Jon and Sasha). I found that I looked to my friends for inspiration. Certain elements (Jon's glasses) were based off of what they wore.
Pinterest was also useful for finding clothing and pose references. Some looks were based off of different actors- in particular, Tim was inspired by Nicholas Galitzine and Elias inspired by Matthew Lillard.
Jane was the most fun to design! I believe in making terrifying characters actually terrifying.
Elias's design needs the most work. Having now finished the show, I see that it doesn't fit him. The purple is overly saturated, especially compared to the set. He looks out of place! I'd reverse the color palette to mostly green/yellow with purple accents instead. Although, I will forever defend the purple tint in his gray hair.
The Set
Jonathan's office was a treat to design! Balancing the color and clutter was especially important. This room is meant to be claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but not overbearingly so.
The wood looks to be full of splinters, but not so worn that it can be thrown out. The chairs offer no back support, and the shelves make the room smaller. The goal was to represented Jon's mind. Intricate, messy, and suffocating (Note: that is more of a season two description).
One goal was to capture the look of an actual archive. Valuable times was spent researching the different kinds of storage, files, paper, etc. The texture and color had to be accurate.
A split-complementary color palette of blue-green, yellow-green, and red was used. Of course, I had to get green in there, and the varying hues and desaturated reds worked well for the wood and filing supplies.
Jane's ashes and the Web lighter on the desk place this set at the end of season one. I find details like this to be important, it's one of my favorite parts of design. There is much needed abundance of eye imagery as well. Most obviously in the carpet, but eyes are carved into the table and watch from the shelves.
My main critique is the lighting- the filters used could be adjusted as to not distort the colors of the boxes. They look inconsistent. The Web lighter could also be more obvious, yet it is small and pixelated.
The Props
I designed these as I re-listened to season one, and it is the most recent piece I finished. Combining the details described in the show with what the objects would have realistically looked like was interesting. That was most useful for the clown, the Ming vase, and Ex Altiora.
Each of these objects came from a specific time with a specific look. Ex Altiora was bound in calf leather from the 1800s, so those books were referenced. Same with the frills on the clown's outfit.
The Ming vase was especially interesting, as it is from the Jiajing period. When looking at photographs of Jiajing vases, I found that many of them lacked handles and had an hourglass shape. That was fascinating to me, as many artists depict a standard oval-shaped vase. Also, the vase's design is described as straight lines that create distorted patterns when looking at it. That effect was achieved using chromatic aberration and the liquify tool (chromatic aberration was used to create a vertigo effect on Ex Altiora).
My critiques are... nitpicky. minimal. The shading on top of the garbage bag is unnatural. The thickness of the gold engraving on Ex Altiora is uneven. The "I" in "Immediate Consideration" is not capitalized. Other than that, I'm happy with how the props look.
Conclusion
First off, if you read everything, thank you!! It is a lot, I know.
My greatest takeaways are that 1) ask for critique, always 2) research skills are necessary for design 3) references are your friend! Seriously guys, use your references.
I hope you enjoyed this project and I'm excited to share more of my work in the future!
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It would be so groovy tastic if you wrote a lando x reader where reader is upset because the car launch is on Valentine’s Day, meaning he won’t get to spend the whole day with her…. So he has to make it up to her later that night 😏 Thanks!
Perfectly Fine - LN
I'm going to say it, the type of people who use the word groovy just have the most untouchable vibe, like you're on another level of elite and I LIVE for it.
Themes: Smut, overstimulation ;), make-up sex, aftercare, mild angst (sort of)
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Y/n hated to come across as ungrateful or bratty when it came to Lando and his job. She understands! She understands the importance and that she shouldn't fall above Lando's life-long dream. She'd never wish to.
But it's fucking Valentine's Day! Does Zak have a brain in his head?
Both of his drivers are in relationships, what is wrong with him? Is it a test of their loyalty to the team?
Seeing if the boys will argue about the fact they are spending Valentine's Day away from the people they should be dedicating the day to.
"You're upset." Lando sighs seeing her reaction.
"I'm not upset. This is your job and it's important." Is what she knows she should've said because he didn't choose the date. But that's not what she said.
"Yes, I'm upset Lando. We made plans!" Y/n states then scoffing while he looks at her. "Whatever, I'll cancel them. Spend Valentine's Day alone and you-"
"Are you not coming to the launch?"
Calm down. Count do ten. Unclench your jaw, relax your fists.
"Lando, I try to support you unconditionally. But...if I can't spend Valentine's Day with my boyfriend doing what we made plans for, I'm not going to attend the one event that is ruining the day for me." Y/n states trying to remain calm. She knows how awful she sounds, not being there for him to kick off the year by the car launch is putting her down in the bad books too.
"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't choose the date. And I'll...I'll find a way to get out of there early." Lando tries but she shakes her head.
'It doesn't matter. I...I have to go cancel everything." Y/n mutters making him reach out. "Don't."
Lando sighs watching her walk into the bedroom, closing the door as he curses under his breath and drops his head back. He knew she'd be upset and maybe it was adding insult to injury to ask her to come with him.
"Fuck sake." Lando grumbles since he knows he's going to do something good to make it up to her and he knows really he never should've expected her to be happy. But she just looked so sad about it when the anger past.
-
Thing had somewhat settled but on the 13th of Feb, she went to bed pretty quiet and in the morning, Lando's attempt at morning sex or even just getting a conversation out of her fell flat.
"I'm tired, Lando." Y/n muttered as he tried to rise her from the depth of sleep via kiss up her shoulder and to her neck.
He did manage to get a kiss from her before he left but she was still bundled up in the bed.
However, what ends up making him have to force smiles and try to really hide a bad mood is when he sees her beginning to make posts and really show him what he's missing. Because y/n apparently decided that if she's not celebrating with Lando, then she will be celebrating by taking herself out and she dresses up in what he assumes was the outfit that she'd bought specifically for Valentine's Day.
She seemed to be burning through whatever money she has saved up too because there's no activity on the card that is connected to his account but she's showing herself accumulating more and more bags.
"You could look less annoyed about being here, mate." Oscar jokes as Lando tucks his phone away in his pocket with an annoyed expression on his face. "what's wrong?"
"My girlfriend is spending Valentine's Day alone and making sure to document the fact. Unlike Lily, she had no interest in coming and spending the day here after having spending weeks planning how we were supposed to spend the day and then having to cancel it all." Lando explains with a huff. "She seemed ok with it after a while but she went cold on me again last night."
"I'm sure she'll be alright." Oscar assures him patting his back. "It's one day of the year and you'll make it up to her."
"Yeah...I just know I shouldn't have to." Lando mumbles earning another pat before Oscar decides to leave the older driver.
It's late by the time Lando eventually leaves, having been pulled into multiple conversations with big sponsor names and investors.
"Fuck sake." He curses as he pulls up to his house and notices that the lights are off meaning she's not home.
But if she isn't, where the hell is she?
It's past 9, and while that's not incredibly late. It's still unusual for someone to be out that late especially if they're on their own. Not to mention he knows his girlfriend is a homebody.
Although when he walks in he spots her collection of shopping bags when he flicks the lights on.
"Y/n?" Lando calls out then jogging up the stairs moving to the bedroom and almost wanting to laugh at the sight.
She's on the bed, an oversized t-shirt being the one thing keeping her from being completely naked and with the toy that's been carelessly left on the bedside, he doesn't have to connect the dots of what she was doing before falling asleep.
He moves over, gently touching her leg to give him a view of her pussy which does cause her to stir, whether it be from the movement or the cool air hitting her very wet heat. Her eyes fluttering up and spotting him.
"Bit of an early night, even for you baby." Lando comments, not immediately wanting to address her position.
"I guess I gave myself a really good Valentine's Day." Y/n shrugs back then swallowing and almost jumping when Lando yanks her down the bed a little. "Christ Lando."
"Are you going to let me make it up to you? Or are you going to keep being stubborn about it?" Lando questions making her grumble a little but jumping a little when he reaches to poke at her pussy, fingertips wet from the simple light touch. "Did you enjoy making yourself cum that much?"
Lando wouldn't never call his girlfriend lazy or needy for him, but he knows that when it comes to sex she'd much rather leave it to him when it comes to her orgasms and the effort that has to be put into making them happen.
Her front is wavering, the confidence she clear had in herself to hold it together being weaker than she'd hoped.
"Alright, baby. I'll keep to myself then, if you don't want me to-"
"Don't be a dick, you owe me." Y/n huffs looking very pouty about it.
"I know." Lando sighs finally leaning down and kissing her. "But I'm going to make it better."
Lando's longer fingers glide into her with ease thanks to the residue from her self-given orgasm, the stickiness coating his fingers leaving them sliding in and out of her with ease. Though his touch brings out a new wetness from her even while he neglects her clit, he intends to build up to it knowing her g-spot will work to give him her first (second) orgasm.
"Good girl." Lando praises as he feels her really gushing around his fingers, whimpering as she begins to feel the heated built up. She almost feels pathetic that it took her the better part of an hour with that stupid expensive vibrator while Lando seems able to just completely obliterate her without so much as needing to give her head or touch her clit.
Sometimes it really is about the person and not just the feeling.
"Lan..." Y/n whimpers almost making a grab for his wrist when he doesn't slow and her orgasm rises, surfacing and making her drop back against the bed again, tensing around him with her thighs closing on his arm as she arches up. And he keeps going, brushing her g-spot again and again, relentless as he doesn't let up but completely intends for this to be one of many. She only just relaxes before tensing again when she feels him finally press on her clit. "W-Wait."
"Mm-mmm. No, baby. Unless you're tapping out then I'm not stopping." Lando states making her snap her eyes closed, not quite certain she's ready to be pushed towards another orgasm so soon. "No, I want you looking at me baby."
Y/n pulls almost a pained expression before whimpering and finally bringing herself to look at him.
"That's it baby." Lando soothes gently then moving to kiss her. "I'm not stopping till you are begging, baby. I'm not even going to let myself inside you until I've got at least three orgasms out of you just from my hand and maybe my mouth."
And if she wasn't already at his mercy, well she certainly was now.
The addition of the pressure on her clit has her take heavier breaths, fists clutching the sheets desperately. He just can't tell if she's fighting the impending orgasm or trying for it. She's not always the easiest to read. But he gently rubs her clit, toying with it and pressing harder every so often feeling her tighten and clench around him at the stimulation.
"You're a mess before I'm even inside you." Lando smirks and for some reason that completely sends her tumbling into another orgasm.
"Fuck. Fu-ah, Lando." Y/n moans back arching as her body spasms impossibly tightly and for the first moment, Lando realises just how hard is at the thought of feeling her clench so tightly around his cock like that. "I think I just need a-I need a moment."
"No, baby." Lando tsks kissing her softly before disappearing while she drops back on the bed almost feeling completely distressed at the thought of another orgasm, but not having the ability to deny herself the luxury of this.
Lando disappears down between her legs with a hot flick of his tongue she's beginning to wonder if there's a puddle under her because she can feel herself dripping.
Her mind is beginning to edge on the line of melting, one more orgasms and she'll be tossed over the line and into the void of absolute delirium. But something tells her that's exactly what Lando is aiming for. He wants her a babbling mess by the end of this, or maybes in a muted daze.
As far apologies go, there's worse ways to make it up to her.
Her hand moves down, locking into his curls as she arches up against him. The increased sensitivity to even his small touch makes her feel like she almost fall apart, her body quivering from the feeling of his tongue on her clit, his fingers still expertly brushing her g-spot with no mercy.
She's never thought Lando a patient person by nature, though she also knows she tests his patience and he doesn't usually appreciate it either. But he seems to be extending his patience with y/n out as long as possible on this occasion.
"Lando." Y/n murmurs almost feeling her voice fail her at the feeling of mouth work to give her an almost blinding orgasm and admitted, she feels it hit her like a ton of brick. Her breath held as a moan rips out of her. "Lando."
Her brain feels like it might've just finally given up on being able to process anything.
"I'm sorry, baby. I gotta get inside you." Lando states, his wet face above her own catching her in a kiss that she almost feels needy of.
She's not touched starved, far from it given what's happening. But she needs to feel him, have her over him. It feels like he's not close enough.
"I need you closer." Y/n whines her hands scrambling to touch him. Pulling him closer as she feels him push into her. "I-I need you."
Lando almost wants to stop just to really let her maybe gather herself but equally containing himself is impossible.
"I'm here, baby...can I move?" Lando questions really hoping she's not about to desperately just want him to stay fully seated and painfully hard inside her.
"Please."
If desperation was personified, it'd be y/n right now. He's seen her in some states as a result of sex, but there's really something about right now that she's just completely unable of processing anything around her but Lando.
Each thrust seems to change between hitting her g-spot to slamming into her cervix all while he somehow manages to give a grind that nudges at her already very sensitive clit that is almost begging for less attention because each grind is pushing her closer and closer.
When y/n starts chanting "please" he actually hesitates over whether he really should stop but one grind and he realises that she was just asking him not to stop because she was close.
"Fuck." Lando groans feeling her tighten around him like a vice, locking him in and triggering his own orgasm with her seemingly sucking everything from him while he drops his head to her neck, trying to keep his weight from completely pressing on her, or he tries to till he mumbles something that can only be described as gibberish as she yanks him closer, forcing his body flat against her as he softens on her.
She breathing heavily underneath him, a sheen of sweat on her face.
"Ok, baby. I'm going to pull you on top." Lando whispers slightly adjusting, mainly to pull himself out before he rolls them over and tries to soothe her when she whines. "It's ok, it's alright."
They stay there for a while, y/n eventually going quite beyond slowly evening and lighter breaths.
"Baby?" Lando tries after feeling like enough time might've past.
"I'm good. Really good." She promises then slowly sitting up, own own cum spilling out of her onto his stomach while he smirks lazily up at her.
"You're making a mess."
"You left it in a place that was going to make a mess once I moved." Y/n shrugs earning a small laugh from him before his large hands run up her thighs, rubbing the skin. "How was the launch?"
"It would've been better if I had my best friend there." Lando states making her smile sadly. "But I didn't deserve to have you there when I ruined our Valentine's Day...how about you left me run us a bath and I'll get the surprise I bought back with me? I know you want me to stay here with you, but if it's part of taking care of you, will you let me go?"
"Ok."
"I promise it will be worth it." Lando promises earning a small smile before she climbs off of him. He steals a kiss before rushing to get on with his task in hand.
Y/n sighs pulling off the t-shirt she's still wearing which is damp with sweat and in need to get it off before slumping back on the pillows yawning as she tries to fight off the urge to just go to sleep. About 15 minutes pass before Lando reappears almost looking breathless.
"Come on, baby." Lando grins, teeth flashing and dimples appearing as he does so.
Walking into the bathroom, y/n slows, shocked at the set up of candles and a tray of food precariously balanced on the bath rack. Chocolate dipped strawberries with a dipping pot of cream too, a bowl of crisps, pretzels along with some skittles.
"Lando...this is...perfect." Y/n smiles then kissing him.
"You didn't think I was just going to use orgasms to redeem myself, did you? Give me some credit."
Lando helps her into the bath, holding her hand to keep her balance before he follows her, sitting beside her.
"I'm sorry I was so harsh." Y/n mumbles earning a sad smile before he kisses her neck since she's still facing away.
"No, don't be sorry. It was my job that go in the way." Lando insists since it's true and while he wouldn't change his job for the world, but he is thinking about maybe requesting they not make the launch on Valentine's Day. "I got a couple more things up my sleeve to make it up to you."
Y/n would say he's done enough, but she's not going to deny herself the obvious pleasure of Lando's need to make it up to her.
"Have something to eat baby. You were out of it not that long ago, need something to give you some energy even if you just go straight to sleep." Lando states softly reaching forward for a strawberry for her, holding it to her lips which makes her lean forward and bite into the chocolate covered strawberry. "Wasn't sure you'd want cream with them. I know you've already been filled up with it."
"You're disgusting, if you want me to be sick in this bath then keep it up." Y/n groans feeling his body vibrate with his laughter. "You should not be proud of that."
"Baby, you couldn't form words. I did that. There's not a point in my life I won't be proud of that...or be trying to do it again."
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navybrat817 · 5 months
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Bucky needs to pay attention to me. 😤
I feel you, nonnie. 😂
Running on Empty
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You had a long day and need Bucky to give you some attention.
Word Count: Almost 1.3k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), established relationship, dirty talk, humor, sassy reader, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me, lovelies), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Work left me in a mood, so apologies for this. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You huffed as you took a seat on the couch and wondered why you bothered getting out of bed today. Contrary to popular belief, Mondays weren’t always the worst. Naturally, the universe decided it would be fun to give you problem after problem today at work in retaliation for having a positive attitude. How you managed to get anything done outside of putting out so many fires, you had no idea.
And Bucky?
Your beefy, gorgeous specimen of a boyfriend had time to sit, relax, and reread his copy of The Hobbit for the umpteenth time. Manspreading in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. Not that you wanted him to have a bad day, too. God knows he deserved rest and relaxation.
But why was he reading instead of fucking the obvious frustration out of you?
“You’re staring at me,” he said, turning a page without looking up from his book. “Which I would say it’s creepy, but we both know you like looking at me.”
True.
You bit your lip as you unashamedly checked him out, wishing he’d lift his gaze so you could see the blue of his eyes. It was an impressive feat that his prosthetic arm matched his right arm in terms of the muscular form and structure, the fabric of his shirt stretching to accommodate his torso. It didn’t matter if he decided to hold you down with his flesh or metal hand, he loved to remind you of his strength as he pounded your desperate pussy, stretching your walls and driving into you so deep that you swore you saw the gates of heaven.
Maybe that was why you thought Bucky looked like Jesus when he was in Wakanda.
“Yeah, I am staring,” you replied, tapping a finger on your thigh when he hummed. “Because I’m trying to figure out why you’re reading instead of eating my pussy.”
Bucky waited a beat before he picked up the bookmark beside him, carefully slotting it between the pages before he shut it and gave you his full attention. “You mind repeating that?” He asked, his voice gruff as he tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He wore it down today, but kept a hair tie around his right wrist.
Perfect for him to pull it back when he went down on you.
He smirked and scratched his scruffy chin when you narrowed your eyes. You craved the burn it left behind when he rubbed his face against your most sensitive area. He knew that.
“You want me to spell it out for you, Bucko? Fine,” you said, leaning back on the cushions as you spread your legs and planted your feet on the couch. Your hands formed a perfect V by your mound, which might as well have been a neon fucking sign since you ditched your under minutes ago, as he tried to hold back a groan. “See this? I have a perfectly good pussy right here and it isn’t going to eat or fuck itself.”
Bucky ran his tongue along his bottom lip before he inhaled. The beautiful bastard was actually sniffing out your arousal. You almost wished you could go back in time and let the scientists know that the serum they created helped super soldiers use their heightened senses to get their dicks wet.
Not that you were complaining since Bucky eyed you like he wanted to devour you whole.
“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t realize eating or fucking your pussy was on my ‘To Do’ list today,” he said, purposely running a large hand over his crotch.
Fucking tease with his fucking massive hand and cock.
You pouted when he didn’t make a move to get up. “I am your ‘To Do’ list. I’m your girlfriend and I want you to do me because I had a long day,” you huffed, dipping your hand between your spread legs before you batted your eyes at him. “You haven’t fucked me in ages. It isn’t fair.”
Your beautiful man snarled at that, making you shiver as you teased yourself. You didn’t dip a finger in, but you did spread your growing wetness around as he watched. “I fucked you last night,” he reminded you.
“It feels like ages,” you corrected yourself. Thanks to him, you experienced what all-consuming desire felt like and you didn’t like going long without him having you. He couldn’t fault you for that, even if he did thoroughly wear you out the night before. “I’m so empty, Bucky, and I have this tight, wet hole for you to fill up. It’s all yours if you want it.”
His nostrils flared as he finally pushed himself up, his fingers flexing as you kept rubbing yourself with a sweet smile. “It’s my pussy,” he rasped, palming himself again as he stood in front of you. “And since she’s so needy that I can’t even finish a chapter of my book, stop touching her and let me get to work.”
Like you don't have a needy cock, big boy.
The growl in his voice brought a moan out of you, but you didn’t stop touching yourself. “Unless you mark it,” you began, looking him dead in the eye as you brought a glistening finger to your lips and traced along them like a gloss. “It isn’t yours.”
You managed not to smirk triumphantly when he took the hair tie from his wrist and pulled his luscious hair back. “She knows she’s mine. Bratty pussy just wants some attention,” he said as he dropped to his knees and leaned in to nose at your slit. “But I don't mind leaving my mark again.”
“Did you just call my pussy a brat?” You questioned, the last word coming out as a strangled moan when Bucky darted his tongue out, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.
“No, I called my pussy a brat. Good thing I know how to tame her,” he said, winking up at you when you looked down. The playful look in his eyes made your heart swell. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. “Kisses are a good way to start before I pump her full.”
“A very good start,” you smiled, clenching in anticipation.
“And she loves my kisses,” he replied before dragging his mouth along your folds. The sensation that shot through you almost had your thighs clamping around his head, but it wasn’t possible with the hold he had on you. “I gotta say though. She's a messy little thing. Gets my mouth so wet.”
“Bucky,” you whimpered, tugging some of his hair free as he gently wrapped his mouth around your clit.
He hummed and lightly sucked on it before he pulled away, making you whine in protest when the sparks of pleasure fizzled out. “Speaking of kisses, I almost forgot.”
You gave him a small smile when he leaned up to tenderly kiss your mouth, letting him swallow down your moan as you opened up for him. It ended far too soon for your liking, making you loop a finger around his dog tags to pull him back to your lips. “Love you, Bucky,” you whispered.
On the days you practically ran on empty, you appreciated having someone like him by your side.
“Love you, too, baby,” he whispered back, his gaze soft as he slid back down your body. “Now hold on and let me make you and my pussy forget all about that long day.”
You knew he’d ask later if you were okay, but for now you’d let him shut your brain off and make you feel boneless.
And maybe you'd offer to warm his cock later as a thank you while he caught up on reading.
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We all deserve that, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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lizzieisright · 3 months
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My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand
power bottom!reader x subtop!Abby
Summary: Abby comes home agitated and asks for a different way to blow off her steam.
Tags: fingering (r and abby!receiving), oral(r!receiving), strap usage(r!receiving), tribbing, face sitting, Abby has to sit and watch as a punishment, light primal play(????), cumming untouched, Abby wears a collar, reader is a little bit of a pain slut, slight degradation (no name calling), begging.
wc: 6.3k
a/n: I was this 🤏 close to writing puppy play with werewolf alpha!abby, I swear
MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Abby comes home from her usual “gym rats hangout” with twitchy fingers. You've learnt to notice those things because they signal the same thing to you: Abby is in the mood. 
“Hey Abby.” You greet her from your place on the bed where you've been reading the book Abby recommended a week ago. “How did it go?”
“Pretty normal.” She answers and you note her higher than usual tone: she is not telling you the whole story. “I'm gonna go shower.”
You hum and go back to your book, giving Abby the space she needs when she lies to you about her feelings. She will come and talk eventually, so you're not anxious - Abby has a very complicated relationship with being emotionally vulnerable and you follow her pace in these moments, letting her come to you. 
Abby takes a shower and comes back in her usual joggers and a muscle tee - you ogle her as a dutiful girlfriend should and she smirks at you. 
“Nice to know I don't spend my time in the gym for nothing.” Abby chuckles and you nod, eyes following her movements until she finally collapses on top of you, putting her head on your tits. 
Abby doesn't speak but starts to draw circles on your waist and you sigh from contentment: it's nice. Abby's hands always feel nice, and you tune yourself to her mood and relax, giving her the reins: restless Abby likes being in control, likes being busy and likes to take her mood out on you. 
“Hey um- Can we try something?” This is not dom Abby's voice. Dom Abby is quiet and cold, concentrated, scary even. This Abby is soft and warm, which confuses you for a second as you come back out of your lazy bliss. 
“What's up?”
“I got so pissed at these assholes today and I really want to not think about it.” She admits and you hum again, listening to her. “But I don't want to be in charge.”
You take a second to give Abby's words more precise form in your head. She is not in her usual subby mood, her hands are still gripping you tight, so she is not talking about subbing right now, but she doesn't want to have control...
“So you want me to dom you? But you want to top the whole time?” You finally say.
“Yes.” Abby looks at you with hopeful eyes. “Can we do this?”
You take a moment to think about it. You don't let Abby touch you when you dom her because she is usually in a subspace to escape her daily responsibilities and you decided long ago to spoil her, give her space to do nothing but be pretty. So right now your brain is trying to figure out how to get Abby into subspace by making her work. Ideas pop up in your head fast, and you smile at her. 
“Come here.” 
Abby climbs up and you weave your fingers through her unbraided hair, massaging her scalp before guiding her into the kiss. 
It feels different, having Abby press you into the bed and still maintaining your control over her, but there's really no dominant bone in her body right now. Yes, her sculpted arms are caging your face on the sides, but her mouth is so fucking soft you can help but smile into the kiss. 
“You want to fuck me, princess?” You whisper into her lips and Abby nods a few times. “Use your words.”
“Please let me fuck you.” Weak, weak little baby, you think as you caress her pink cheeks while she looks at you with big eyes. “Let me, please-”
“Bring me your collar.”
Abby's eyes glaze over for a second and she rushes to get the collar and give it to you so you can put it around her neck. You fasten it quite loosely, since you got into a habit of tugging on her collar and you don't want to hurt her.
“That's my good girl.” You tell her and Abby tries to kiss you, but you stop her roughly. “Who told you you can do that?”
“I'm sorry, ma'am.” She says, but you hear her impatience, her eagerness. “Can I kiss you, ma'am? Can I?” Abby's hands are twitching by your sides as she restrains herself from touching you.
“Oh baby.” You chuckle, amused. “Not yet.” 
“Fuck.” Abby whispers to herself, desperate. “Sorry- I'll be good, I'll wait.”
This is interesting. You are so used to Abby giving you all the control, asking you to do something instead of asking if she could do something that it throws you off balance a little. But you take your time and take a breath, then tug on her collar and kiss her. 
Well, you tease her: you make Abby chase your mouth, stopping her from crossing the distance when she almost touches your lips, and you can see a small frown forming. Oh, Abby is not happy with your game. 
“Ma'am-” Abby growls and you smirk. 
“Watch your tone or go sit and watch me touch myself.” The steel in your voice quickly puts an end to Abby's antics. 
“Please, ma'am, let me touch you. I've missed you today.” 
Abby's hands hover over your thighs and you take pity on her: you guide her hands to your hips and let her squeeze them. 
Feeling Abby's hands on your body reminds you of a second reason why you don't let her touch you when you dom her: she just feels so good. Her strong fingers digging into your flesh make your thoughts go out of your head and you take another breath to collect yourself. 
“You wanna kiss me, princess?” 
“Yes, ma'am.” Abby rushes closer, a little bold, like an over excited hound who has zero discipline. She likes it, you realise. Abby likes the game, likes pushing on your buttons. She moves her face dangerously close, testing the limits, her breathing fanning your lips. You put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she listens, but watches you almost maniacally, tracking your every movement. 
“Oh princess, you’re really impatient.” You say, amused. “If you want to kiss me, you’ll have to earn it.” 
Abby nods.
“Of course, ma’am. I’ll do whatever you want.” Abby whispers feverishly as she kneads your thighs. “I’ll be good.”
Seeing Abby so desperate but so determined makes you wet in your pants: it’s a new, more delicious kind of power trip. Abby wants to be active and do everything, but your one light touch stops her. One light touch against 5 '10 built like a brick woman who can do whatever she wants with you if she decides to - it makes you dizzy, to have so much power when Abby is not giving up hers. 
“Use this pretty mouth and make me cum, princess.” You order and Abby’s eyes go dark. She’d manhandle you usually, but right now she is looking at you, waiting for permission, even though her grip on your thighs is strong. You decide to drive her crazy even more and once again you move your face until you almost touch her lips with yours. “My good girl knows what I like, doesn’t she?” 
“Yes ma’am.”
You lick the corner of her mouth and Abby tenses, restraining herself from kissing you. You move your lips to her ear, slightly touching it, and Abby’s hold gets tighter.
“Mark me.” You kiss her under her ear. “Bruise me.” You kiss her under her chin. “Hold me down.” You murmur in a low voice right into her ear and Abby growls, really growls.
“Please, ma’am.” Abby pleads and tentatively tugs on your waistband. “I’ll make you feel so good.” 
You lift your hips up and Abby takes them off in a hurry, throwing them somewhere, not caring. You’re tempted to make her go and fold everything to tease her more, but you can’t ignore your own needs: your clit is pulsing, your skin is on fire, and you need Abby’s mouth on you. 
“Can I take your shirt off too, ma’am?” 
“Go ahead.” 
Abby’s fingers are even shaking a little as she takes your shirt off, leaving you fully naked. Her eyes are devouring you, the obsession and lust overpowering her. She doesn’t waste any time and tugs on your thighs to get you comfortable before she buries her face in your cunt, but you tug on her hair in return, moving her head away.
“What did I tell you to do?” You ask her sternly. “Don’t think just because you get to touch me you can do what you want.”
Abby kisses your thigh apologetically, grazing it with her teeth, and you pet her head. 
“That’s better.”
This is all Abby needs to latch onto your thigh and suck a bruise into your skin while you hiss and grip her hair tighter.
“Good.” You sigh, your voice breaking just a little when Abby moves to the other thigh and bites you, holds you between her teeth like a prey, sinking her canines to cause the pain she knows you like. “Yeah, good girl.”
Abby snakes her arms around your thighs and pins you to the bed - you know you won’t be able to move until she lets you, and it makes you roll your eyes from arousal. 
Abby watches you as she licks her way between your folds, opening you up - your taste weaves the moan out of her and she puts her whole mouth on you, licking and rubbing your clit as you leak on her tongue and sigh so heavy, so pretty above her. 
You look back at Abby and she looks absolutely fucking feral, her eyes trained on you like you're her prey, and you can only smirk at her tauntingly. 
“Big bad wolf, aren't you?” You mock her and grip her hair to push her further into your pussy. “I might get a leash then.” 
The grunt Abby lets out into your cunt and the hold getting tighter signals she likes the idea, and you chuckle before breaking into a moan as Abby doubles the effort and really eats you out. Her devilish tongue destroys you piece by piece, contrasting with the pain of her grip on you as she squeezes your thighs, spilling your flesh between her fingers. 
“You're doing, uh- so good, baby, fuck-” You whimper for her and Abby's brows go up in a pleading manner, as if she silently begs you to cum for her. “Add your fingers.” You order her and Abby listens right away, pushing two fingers inside you. “Fuuuuck..” 
“Can I make you cum, ma'am?” Abby asks in a low voice and you push her head back into your cunt.
“Yes-yes-yes-yes, fucking- give it to me, princess.”
There is a millisecond pause before Abby gets overpowered by her own desires, and then Abby's fingers start to curl inside you violently, almost lifting you up with the sheer force of each curl. Your moans get higher and higher until you're almost screaming on her fingers and her tongue as your orgasm builds up in geometrical progression, taking you out fully. 
You cum, gripping into Abby's hair painfully, clamping down on Abby's fingers as she continues fucking you through your orgasm, lazily rubbing your clit on her flat tongue. You feel like you just exploded, fell apart and can't find your own pieces again after what Abby just did to you. Abby sucks another hickey into your thigh and you melt into the bed, feeling high. 
“Can I get my kiss now, ma'am?” Abby asks, almost smirking at you.
“Spoiled little girl.” You murmur, but motion her to come closer. “Barely did her job and already asking for rewards.”
Abby whines quietly, her previous smug face turning into pleading one again. 
“Ma'am-” She can't argue with you, you have all the power, but Abby is desperate. “I made you cum, I was good.” She begs and you chuckle, caressing her cheek, cleaning your cum from her chin. 
“You fucked my brains out, princess.” You kiss her and Abby moans, turns into mush on top of you, opens her mouth for you, because hearing you say this almost makes her cum in her pants. 
You make out for a while, your wet hot mouth on her soft, warm one, feeling each other with your tongues. You calm down from your high, but Abby just gets more restless. She needs her energy released, she needs to burn through it, and you know exactly how she can do it. 
“Do you want to fuck me with your strap, babygirl?” You tease her, but Abby can only nod. 
“Yes, ma'am.” She gets bold again and kisses your cheek. And then she grinds against you and you can't help your surprised chuckle when you feel the hardness in her pants.
“Oh, you naughty girl. You took it to the shower, didn't you?” You can't help your smile when Abby blushes, caught, hiding in your neck.
“Ma'am, I wanna fuck you so bad.” She admits into your ear and your clit throbs. “Wanna see you cum again.” 
“You're so spoiled.” You scold her and tug her hair to make her look at you. “Straighten up.”
Abby sits up and you take her strap out of her pants, lining it up with your hole, and Abby, naive Abby, thinks she can just thrust into you, but you stop her with your other hand on her hip. Again, it's such a light touch, but it stops her immediately.
“No, you're just going to watch, greedy little girl. You're not pushing inside until I let you.” 
Abby nods and can only helplessly watch you play with yourself using her cock. You run it up and down between your folds, smearing your slick, and Abby watches it glisten in the lowlights of your bedroom. God she wants to fuck you, she wants to make you scream and leak onto the bed, she wants to hear you whimper how good she is, how good she is making you feel, but instead she watches you nudge your clit with her dick. 
You watch Abby's tortured face with a smirk, the soft silicone rubbing you just right. 
“I can cum just like this, grinding against your cock, princess.” You tell her and Abby looks at you, genuinely terrified. 
“Please, ma'am, I'll do so much better for you, I'll make you feel so much better.” She begs and you smile when her hips twitch. 
The relief Abby feels when you nudge your hole with the head of her strap is downright religious. She looks at you, waiting for permission, her fingers lightly squeezing your thighs. 
“Prove yourself, then.” 
You both moan when Abby smoothly slides inside after you coated her dick with your slick. She watches you, how you arch, how your naked body reacts to her, how your tits spill to the sides and your nipples tighten. She sees the shiver cover your skin from how good she feels inside you, and Abby can't stop herself but to go as deep as she can in your pussy. 
“You're beautiful, ma'am.” Abby sighs, her voice trickled in lust, as she thrusts into you slowly, her hips hitting the underside of your ass. 
You moan and tug on her shirt so Abby would get closer, and then you push your fingers under her collar, wrapping them around it, and hold Abby down while she ruts into you, desperately grunting into your ear. 
“So good f’me, princess.” You sigh and then moan when she thrusts into you so hard it makes you move up on the bed, knocking the air out of you. “Fu-ah-ck, shit, you're barely holding on, aren't you?” You tease her with your broken voice and Abby growls into your neck. “Look how you're fucking me, baby. Fucking look.” You growl in return.
Abby listens and tries to move away to see properly, but you only let her go as far as looking between your bodies since you still hold her by the collar. 
“God, ma'am- you're so wet, fuck-” Abby sobs and fucks you hard and slow, hungrily watching her strap move in and out of you.
“You did it.” You say between your whimpers. “Like a good girl.”
Abby scrapes her teeth on your neck, desperate, but you tug her back so she continues watching fucking you while you moan and dig your nails into her shoulder. 
“Ma’am, fuck, please-” Abby pants and looks up. “Can I go faster? Please, I'll be good for you, I'll fuck you so good, please.” 
You pull her closer and kiss messily, feeling as feral as Abby looks right now, bite her bottom lip painfully and feel her hips snap into you in response.
“Go ahead, princess. Make me cum on your cock.” You pant into her mouth and Abby's eyes go dark. 
“Thank you, ma'am.” She tells you in her scary fucking voice and you feel like the power shifts between you for this one second. She places both of her hands by your sides for stability, and you know this is it. You're going to be destroyed. 
The first hard thrust makes you squeak and then there is no break: Abby's pace is unrelenting, her hips are strong and she uses it to her advantage, slamming into your pussy, going so deep on each thrust it becomes hard to breathe for you. You moan and whimper into her ear, scratching her shoulder when Abby hits the spot just right, but you keep holding her by the collar to make her remember who is in charge here. 
“Fuck, unnnhhh, you're so good-” You tell her and Abby looks into your eyes like she can find a proof there, like the noises she fucks out of you is not enough. 
“Thank you, ma'am.” She pants and buries her head into your neck, licking your skin with her whole tongue, lapping at your collarbones. 
You feel animalistic, like both of you are stripped down to your instincts with all growls and grunts that leave both of your throats. Abby sucks on your skin and grabs your hip painfully, pinning you down so she can move even faster, harder, making your cunt squelch with how wet she gets you. You don't cling to her - you grip like a predator grips their prey in their claws, and the desire to hurt, the same desire Abby has in her, makes you dig your nails into her throat. Abby whimpers and gently bites your shoulder, licking her bite right away to soothe you, and she feels how your walls grip her strap, not letting her pull out easily, almost with a pop - you're close, you're so close Abby can't help but moan. 
“Ma'am, would you cum for me? Please, please cum for me-” Abby says into your neck as her hips keep drilling into you: by this point she doesn't care how tight you are, she is going to keep fucking you until you cum. 
“Fuck!” You sob, every movement of Abby's cock making you open up for her. “Fuck, baby- shit, keep going, yeah?” You feel like you are about to cry: it feels so intense, your legs start to shake in anticipation. “Holy shit-” You sob and Abby looks up at you, watching your now wet face with blown out eyes and an open mouth: you look like a god to her. “Baby-”
You squeeze your eyes shut from how much you feel as your orgasm bursts out, dragging you to the pits of hell with white hot pleasure and you can't help the scream ripping from your chest. 
Abby moans involuntarily: seeing you like this while she is in subspace, while she is serving you, is goddamn holy. She feels how her own clit pulsates and the desperation takes over her.
“Ma'am, can I cum?” Abby asks you shyly while she is fucking you through your orgasm, but you barely register her voice, so overwhelmed. 
“You better, princess.” You growl and then squeak as Abby gains her speed back.
The mess of whimpers and grunts gets louder as Abby approaches her orgasm while she is watching you cry from overstimulation, feels your fingers grip her throat, listens to the best sounds in her life and this all trips her over the edge. Abby ruts into you, chasing her orgasm, and moans into your shoulder when it finally hits her. Her hips erratically slam into you and you tug on her hair: the perfect mix of pain and pleasure makes Abby see stars.
You can't help the quiet moans that leave your throat on every exhale: you're still pulsating around Abby's strap, and Abby lies on top of you, making your sensitive skin feel her everywhere, even though she is fully clothed. 
“Holy fuck.” You chuckle, surprised. “Are you okay, babygirl?”
Abby hums in agreement. 
“Tired?” You are gentle now, smoothing Abby's hair out: you don't know her limits in this.. order of things, so you're being careful. 
“No, ma'am.” Abby presses her forehead to yours and you smirk. “Whatever you want, I'll do it.” 
“Yeah? Did it feel good to cum while you fucked me?”
“Yes, ma'am. You're so beautiful when you cum.” Abby looks into your eyes, needy, definitely waiting for something. “Can I kiss you, ma'am?”
You hum and pull Abby into the kiss and she gets bold, kissing you a little too aggressively than she is supposed to, but you let her - she deserves it. She shifts her hips and the strap presses inside you, making you gasp into her mouth. Abby gets excited and presses harder, but you stop her. 
“What do you think you're doing?” 
Abby just looks at you dumbly, caught in the act. 
“Please.” That's all Abby can manage. 
“Please what?” You hold Abby's chin between your fingers, making her look at you. 
“I want to make you cum again.”
You pretend to think, but then you let Abby go. 
“Take your clothes off.” You tell her. 
Abby nods and slowly pulls out of you: you feel your hot slick dripping down your ass and it makes you smile - you like knowing how well Abby fucked you. 
“You see this, princess?” You nod at her absolutely soaked strap. “You see how good you made me feel?” 
Abby swallows, really tempted to lick the strap clean since it has your cum on it, but you asked her a question and she has to answer.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I bet your pussy is drenched as well.” You smirk and Abby blushes while she takes her clothes off. “Come here, princess, and ride my clit.” 
Abby freezes for a second, taken aback, so, “Colour?”
“Green.” Abby says in the husky voice and gets on top of you. She slots herself between your legs and- “Oh my God-” Abby gasps when she feels your hot wet cunt on herself. “Oh my god it feels so good.”
You pant as you look over Abby: her collar is loose around her neck, her hair sticks to her back and her eyes are so wide it is almost funny, and you'd have teased her for this, but Abby starts grinding on your clit and all thoughts leave your head. 
Abby's legs and glutes are strong, meaning she moves fast and hard on top of you, bumping your clits together: she slides so smoothly since you're both soaked and you moan quietly, and the idea comes to you. 
“You're not allowed to cum until I do, do you hear me?” You tell her as sternly as possible and Abby whimpers. 
“Yes, ma'am.” 
You smile at her, mean - you know between the two of you Abby always cums quicker, so you just set her up for failure. And Abby knows it as well, looking at you with pleading eyes and an open mouth as her moans leave her lungs - she hopes you'll be kind to her. But you won't. 
You try to calm down your breathing and hold off your orgasm, even though Abby is moving perfectly: she is fast and her clit brushes over your clit just right. And then you feel how Abby sneakily tries to slow down. 
“Are you tired, princess?” You ask with mock concern. 
“No ma'am.”
“Then pick up the speed and make me cum.” You tell her with the steel in her voice. 
“But ma'am, I'll cum.” Abby whines. “I wanna be good for you, please.” 
“I told you, you don't get to cum until I do. Figure it out.” 
You're being mean to her and Abby doesn't have a choice but to pick the speed again and try to not cum, even though she feels how close she is: she is already twitching when your clit touches hers just like she needs it, and it won't take long for her to fail you. 
And Abby knows you are good at punishments, so she decides to do only one thing she can:
“Ma'am, please, I can't hold it any longer, please-” You frown and slap her thigh lightly, not pleased. “Please, I'll be good, please can I cum now, I'll do anything you want, I can't- It's too much-” 
Abby is sobbing but keeps going, driving herself insane: she can't stop herself from cumming but she also can't stop moving without you punishing her and Abby feels her adrenaline going up at the thought of what you might do when she fails you. 
“Don't even think about it, princess. I said no cumming.” You growl at her and Abby is done. 
She keeps moving pathetically, riding out her orgasm and thinking you will forgive her if she just keeps going even though her clit is pulsing and her slick is dripping down on your pussy, her pace lost and erratic. You move up and grab her by her collar, letting her moan into your lips as you watch Abby ride out her high. You're pissed off and Abby gets the tingles - the fun ones when she is scared of you but she is also absolutely fucking thrilled about what is to come. 
“Oh, this is a bad, princess.” You tell her coldly. You look so calm and collected while Abby is a mess. She can feel her lower stomach quivering from the aftershocks, her hair is stuck to her body and her face is fully red. “I didn't give you permission, did I?”
“No, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“Sorry is not gonna cut it.” You snarl. “You had the audacity to cum before I was satisfied.”
“I'm sorry, ma'am. Can I make you cum? I promise I will make you feel so good.” Abby pleads, but it's to no avail. 
“No. You fucked up, you won't get to touch me until I let you. Go sit at the edge of the bed.” 
If Abby could whine like a puppy, she would. But she listens and sits where you told her. 
“Give me your strap.” 
Abby perks up with a small hope as she passes you the harness: maybe you will let her fuck you again? Maybe, at least, she will get to lick your cum from the strap? Oh Abby would give anything to just taste you right now. 
But you take the dildo out of the harness and spread your legs, showing Abby your soaked pussy. 
“Hands behind your back and spread your thighs, don't even think about touching yourself. Bad girls only get to watch.”
Abby swallows and does as she is told and just watches as you drag the dildo between your folds, smearing it with your slick.
“You see this? Your cum is all over my cunt.” Oh fuck, Abby thinks. Oh no. She will have to- “Watch how I'm going to fuck it back in and make myself cum, since you were so busy being a brat.”
Abby whines. She can't help it - she is supposed to do it. It's her job to serve you, to please you and make you feel good, and you took it away to punish her. 
“Yeah, I bet it felt nice, not listening to me.” You murmur and moan when you push the dildo inside. Abby watches how it stretches you and her fists tighten, it is supposed to be her. “Can't wait to have your cum inside me, princess. The only good thing from this.” You scoff.
Abby bites her lip to cope with what she is seeing; you pull out and rub the strap on your pussy to collect the slick on her strap just to push back in. Her cum is in you. This thought makes Abby dizzy and desperate: she really considers not listening to this order as well and just- just touch you and taste you. 
“Your cock feels so good.” You taunt her and Abby whimpers. 
“Ma'am, please! Let me do it, I'll make you cum, please-”
“Quiet.” You bark at her and Abby listens. “You don't get to ask for anything. Be grateful you get to watch.”
“Thank you, ma'am.” Abby says in a small voice and quiets down. 
You relax and continue playing with yourself as if Abby is not even here - you're concentrated on your own needs right now, fucking yourself with the dildo, feeling how it rubs all over your walls, and it's not enough now. So you lick two of your fingers and put them on your clit, rubbing and flicking it the way you like, moaning when you feel yourself tighten around the strap. 
Abby is going to cry, she thinks: everything you're doing now is torturing her. She needs to be the one who fucks you and plays with your clit, it's her job. There are red crescents on her palms from how hard she is digging her nails into her flesh, and she is leaking on the bed, because you're so fucking hot. Abby can't take her eyes off you, off your perfect pussy with her cock inside, off your pretty face contorted in pleasure. 
“You're beautiful, ma'am.” Abby blurts out, not controlling herself.
“Yeah?” You smirk. 
“Yes, ma'am.” 
You like it when Abby compliments you, but she is being punished, so you don't give her a chance to redeem herself. You start rubbing your clit faster, feeling your orgasm approaching, and Abby whimpers again: she can see it as well. She wants to beg you again, she needs to make you cum, but Abby also needs to be good, so she stays quiet and doesn't look away. Your thighs start twitching and your moans get louder now, and Abby can't sit still anymore; she almost bounces on the bed, trying to cope with the fact that you're going to cum without her. 
“Fuck, it feels so good.” You taunt her again, knowing how much it upsets her. “Oh, I'm going to cum-” You whimper when you feel the first wave of orgasm washing over you before the whole tsunami of pleasure. 
Abby is panting, her mind is empty, and she watches you again like a predator, feral eyes trained on your face: you look so good when you cum. 
Tsunami hits you and you moan deeply, frozen in place as your cunt pulsates around Abby's strap. Abby doesn't even breathe, waiting for you to come down from your high. She tries her best to be good and patient for you, and you notice it. Abby is damn near tears, but she is still sitting like you told her to, and she is being quiet as well, waiting for you. You feel like this is enough for her and motion her to come to you when your high subsides. 
Abby is super fast as she climbs on top of you, getting comfortable between your legs again. 
“Hi, baby.” You tell her in a sweet voice and Abby buries her nose in your neck, squeezing you in her arms. “You did so well, sat through your punishment like a champ.” 
“Thank you, ma'am.” 
“Do you want to stop?”
Abby looks borderline hurt at your suggestion, and you laugh kindly.
“I’ll take it as a no.” You caress her cheek gently. “Well, since you’ve been so good, I suppose you can choose how you want to fuck me, princess.”
Abby moans at your words - she is so greedy she can’t pick an option right away, she can’t believe her luck! 
“Sit on my face.” Abby says in a low voice that faintly reminds you of her dominant side, but she quickly remembers her place. “Please.”
“Lie down.”
Abby listens and watches impatiently how you get up and swing your thigh over her chest, your soaked pussy so close to her face she feels how her own cunt pushes more slick onto the sheets. 
“Hold me down and leave bruises.” You gasp when Abby immediately wraps her strong arms around your thighs and pulls you down, making you sit on her face. “Good girl.”
Abby moans into your pussy and opens her mouth wide, as if she is really trying to eat you, and you relax in her grip - the pain from her fingers digging into your hips is mixed with the pleasure from her soft flat tongue and you feel amazing. And Abby is so eager, she eats you out feverishly, watching your every movement. Abby needs to make you cum, to hear you choke on your own moans, but right now you only make these quiet breathy moans - so she sucks on your clit and you twitch, overstimulated. Abby grins into your pussy and you frown.
“Oh, you wanna play games, princess?”
And then it’s Abby’s turn to twitch because you push two fingers into her and curl them. 
“Don’t you dare to cum before me again.” You growl at her and Abby mewls pathetically, tugging you even harder, pinching your thighs when you curl your fingers and hit her sweet spot. You whimper, getting high on pain-pleasure equilibrium, and all hell breaks loose. 
Both of you can’t stop your moans, and everything becomes a chain reaction where you fuck your fingers into Abby and Abby drags her tongue over your clit, sucking and rubbing it while her hands try to break your bones with the force she is holding you down. Your thighs are suffocating her, but she is in heaven: you’re all around her, all she smells, tastes, feels and hears - it’s only you. This is how it is supposed to be: Abby under you, serving you, making you feel good like no one, not even you, can.
“Fuck, baby, just like that-” You choke on your moan and Abby moves her hands to your hip junctions, keeping you in one place as her tongue fucks you like you need her to. “Yes, princess.” You hiss and buck your hips into her mouth, but the iron grip she has on you doesn’t let you. 
You keep curling your fingers inside her and Abby closes her thighs around your hand, trying her best to concentrate on you and not cum before you do, but your pace doesn’t falter even when your voice breaks and your hips twitch. Abby concentrates on your puffy, warm cunt and listens to your moans - but it seems to only work against her, spiking her arousal even more, bringing her closer to the inevitable. 
“You are tightening on me.” You smirk and thumb at her clit, making Abby’s hips jump. “You’re gonna cum when I cum.” You manage to tell her and then there are only moans and whimpers as Abby sucks your clit. 
And then she gently grazes her teeth over it and your climax hits you suddenly; Abby eases her grip on you, letting you ride her tongue while you moan and whine for her. You feel how her cunt sucks your fingers in and Abby is such a mess now, cumming on your fingers while you use her face to prolong your orgasm. 
“Good girl.” You whimper and sit on her chest, looking at Abby’s red wet face as she keeps moaning. “Came with me like I told you to, good fucking girl.”
You take your fingers out and Abby makes eye contact with you when you suck your fingers clean. 
“Oh god-” Abby sighs pathetically. “Fuck, ma’am.”
You chuckle, still riding your high, but you find your strength to move and lie next to Abby, petting her head gently with your shaking hand.
“You want to cuddle, princess?”
“I wanna hold you.” You are surprised, but you go back on top of her and Abby wraps her arms around you, caressing your back. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, princess.” You gently kiss her shoulder and then her cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. High.” Abby chuckles. “Thank you. It was amazing.”
“You did amazing, baby. I’m proud of you.” You kiss Abby gently, feeling her whole mouth, trying to show her all the love you have for her.
“You got so pissed at me.” Abby grins and you roll your eyes with a smile.
"Was it too much?"
"I think if you want to punish me again like this, you'll have to tie me down. I almost broke, wanted to fuck you so bad." Abby murmurs and you kiss the marks on her throat. "Does anything hurt?"
You're surprised once again - usually you ask this question, but given the circumstances...
"Deliciously." You murmur into Abby's lips and kiss her again.
"We need to get a leash." Abby says suddenly and you snort.
"Yeah, we do."
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capslocked · 6 months
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KINKVEMBER DAY: 4
[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words
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“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”
-
Here’s the truth:
Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.
"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."
(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)
You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.
Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.
"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."
She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:
"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."
-
Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.
There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a  pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.
You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.
Until,
"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -
And then it hits you.
"ah."
"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.
-
A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.
Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.
There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:
The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.
The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.
(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)
A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.
But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.
"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.
The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.
"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"
"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."
"Smooth."
"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."
Hyewon nearly snorts.
"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"
"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.
Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."
Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.
"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."
You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:
"Pretty."
It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.
"I know. That's what my husband calls me."
"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"
"Different day, different you."
"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."
It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."
"Women like you."
"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.
Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.
"Isn't it," she agrees.
The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -
And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.
But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.
"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.
You blink, drawing her out.
"They know how to tie a knot."
There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.
(What a character, honestly.)
"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."
Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."
You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."
"Never said as much either."
“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”
Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”
"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."
She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.
"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."
So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.
Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.
"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"
That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.
(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)
When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.
"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."
"Mhmm."
"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."
"Like?" you continue to prod.
Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."
You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.
"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.
"I thought you'd never ask."
At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.
Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.
She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.
The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.
The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.
"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."
"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."
"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.
"Something like that."
Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.
And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.
"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."
"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.
"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.
You try to finish it for her:
"She likes it rough."
"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."
She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.
"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.
(Damn.)
Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.
It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:
"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."
She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.
"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.
It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -
She cums just like that.
Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.
"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.
"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."
Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"
"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"
You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.
You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.
And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -
"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"
And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.
(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)
"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."
"Four more floors."
-
Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.
"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"
This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.
See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.
It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.
Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.
You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.
"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.
And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -
"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."
“I don’t know that I am.”
Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.
"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."
You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.
But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:
"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"
"Say it again."
"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.
"Pushy."
"Gentle's got no appeal for us."
"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -
You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.
The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:
"Like that. Harder."
"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.
Her throat flinches: this shudder.
She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.
"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."
"Or talk?"
And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -
Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.
"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"
In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."
There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.
So you pull.
And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.
You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.
A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.
"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"
Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."
"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"
"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."
"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"
"My husband loves me."
"Then it seems-"
"He makes me cum with his hands alone."
Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.
"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."
"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"
A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight. 
You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.
You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.
"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."
There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.
(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)
With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.
Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.
You curse under your breath.
Hyewon fucking collapses.
It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.
"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"
Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.
It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"
You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.
Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.
"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"
She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.
"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"
And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:
"More-"
"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.
Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.
"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.
The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.
Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.
"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"
She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.
It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.
Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"
The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.
"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"
"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."
Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.
And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"
You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.
(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)
You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.
She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.
This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.
"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.
Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.
"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.
"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.
A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."
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french-goodbye · 8 months
Text
in the low lamplight
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summary: your boyfriend is perfect, except for one tiny little detail.
warnings: conversations about sex; dry humping; consensual slapping and chocking; praise kink; fingering; p in v sex. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.
notes: i'm tired of experienced steve and virgin reader all the time. i want steve and confident slutty reader who's more experienced than him and blows his mind. also a little praise kink bc i feel like my boy would be insanely into that. also my first time writing smut!!! i! am! nervous! title from work song by hozier.
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it's not that steve is bad in bed, it's quite the opposite actually. but he's just... extremely vanilla. and you totally get it. most of his sexual experiences were with young suburban girls in the back of his car or in his room when his parents weren't home. he was a couple of girls' first time and knowing steve, he probably put their own comfort above his wants. not probably, definitely.
you just wish he was... kinkier. nothing too intense, just something a little more exciting. and it's not that you don't get to cum, you totally do. he knows exactly how to move inside of you, the spots that make your body burn in need and he gives the best head ever, which is a nice bonus.
but after three months together and having sex everytime you have the opportunity to, because you're still in the honeymoon stage of the relationship, it's getting kinda repetitive. it's always missionary, maybe you on top if you're in a particularly bossy mood. but he nevers puts you on all fours or asks you to sit on his face or even sixty-nine. nothing.
you know steve's attracted to you (he isn't exactly shy to tell you how much) so you know that's not the issue, so you've tried so hard to subtly ask him to be rougher, you've tried placing his hand on your neck and squeezing, you've tried guiding his hands to your ass, but you've had no success so far. every single time he'll respectfully pull his hand away and press them to your shoulder or keep them there but not do anything.
but tonight. tonight is the night, you've decided. his parents are out of town (as usual) and it's just you two in the house, you've made sure he's free the whole day the tomorrow (no driving little shits around or shifts at the video store) so you'll have the whole friday night and the next day to yourselves.
you even splurged a bit and purchased a set of overpriced lingerie, way too expensive for just two little scraps of fabric and shaved, exfoliated and moisturized your entire body the night before. you still haven't approached the subject with him, but you've already planned a careful yet objective way to approach the subject and even practiced what you'd say in the mirror and bought a cosmo magazine. you're not exactly proud of yourself for that last one.
your plan is finally set in motion after you and steve get home from work and throw yourselves on his couch, half watching a movie and eat leftovers from the dinner you cooked the night before. when you're both done, you tell him you need a shower, where you use that lavender soap he likes and spray on the perfume he gave you on your birthday. after you're done, he's waiting in his room for you, halfheartedly flipping through the book you're currently reading.
"you can take your shower now" you tell him distractedly, holding the towel you've wrapped around yourself tightly to your body. he finally looks up and realizes your state of undress, his eyebrows shooting up.
"what are you doing?"
you stop going through your over night bag to throw him a confused look, "what are you talking about?"
"you used that soap i like, and that perfume i gave you that you only use on special occasions..." he stands up from the bed and stalks to you, watching you from narrowed eyes, like he's suspicious you're planning his murder. "what are you planning?"
you fake surprise, your hand coming up to clutch imaginary pearls. "me? why would i scheme something against my dear loving boyfriend?"
he looks at you unimpressed and you stand on your tip toes to rest your hands on his chest, his hands coming to support you on your waist and you whisper next to his ear, "okay, maybe i do have something planned... why don't you go take your shower and find out?"
he glances at you one last time before squeezing your waist and letting you go.
"fine..." he sighs dramatically, "i'll go"
once he's locked the door behind him, you put on your recently purchased underwear and bra on. you throw on one of his old highschool t-shirts since he once mentioned how much he likes seeing you wearing them.
by the time he gets out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam surrounding him, you're sitting on his bed, rubbing lotion on your legs and he's shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants, that hang low on his hips, his hair half dry as he finishes towel drying it.
you tsk and shake your head disheartened. "oh- wow, okay, harrington"
he glances at you once and goes back to drying his hair. "huh?"
"the chest, the scandalous dick print..." you explain and gesticulate towards him. "are you trying to seduce me or something?"
"why are you looking at my dick? you interested?" your stomach burns with insinuation but you ignore him, simply tucking your lotion back into your bag.
"i mean... it's hard not to notice when you're whoring yourself around" you shrug with fake nonchalance.
he scoffs loudly at you, going back into the bathroom quickly to hang both of your towels and getting on your way when you're about to climb on the bed after having dropped your bag in the corner.
"i'm whoring myself?" he looms over you, hand resting on your shoulder to snap the strap of your bra that's peeking from his shirt "you're the one wearing a new bra babe."
you don't answer, simply slapping his hand away and climbing on the bed, intentionally giving him a peek of your ass as you finally sit near the foot of the bed, with your legs crossed.
"why don't you turn off the lights and come take a look?"
he earnestly complies, almost tripping on a sweater he left on the bedroom floor earlier that day as he does what you asked. he lights the lampshade on his bedside table and walk towards you, leaning down to reach you when you stop him.
"no" you say firmly. "go sit on the bed, near the headboard."
he complies, but not without giving you a look. "ooh, bossy"
you turn to watch him and can't help the spark that lights up in your tummy. he looks ridiculous attractive, hair fluffy from not being styled properly, his hairy chest all on display for you and his thick spread legs giving a privileged view of his dick in those sweatpants. it's almost criminal, but you swallow it down and keep going with your plan.
you crawl to him on all fours, purposefully, until you're between his legs.
"i don't know about bossing " you run a long manicured fingernail through his thick chest hair. "but i was thinking about something i'd like to try with you..." you only stop when your fingers are almost at his waistband and you swirl your fingers around his bellybutton. you glance at his face and he almost looks dazed, eyes following your finger avidly.
hook, line and sinker.
your boyfriend was almost too easy sometimes.
"yeah, babe... whatever you want" you hold back your laughter and finally climb on top of his legs, his eyes following the curve of your hips and your bare legs as you straddle him.
"how do you feel about chocking?" you ask, making his gaze shift to your face.
"chocking? are you serious?"
"yeah, i think it'd be really good to have your hands around my neck" his fingers dig tightly on your hips, but you can tell he's still unsure.
"what if i hurt you?"
"if it makes you feel better, we can have a safe word and we can immediately stop if one of us says it. no questions asked"
"what if you can't speak?"
"then i can just tap you three times, like this?" you demonstrate, tapping his shoulder. "is that okay?"
he nods quietly, so you ask: "what if i do it on you first so you know what it feels like?"
"yeah, sure"
you gently put your hands on his throat, not applying pressure yet, just resting there.
"you just have to make sure you squeeze the sides, not on top so you don't stop airflow" you explain, spreading your fingers so they're on each side of his throat and squeezing carefully. steve himself is more surprised than you when his breath stutters and he lets an almost groan out.
"did you like that?"
"fuck yeah, that's super hot" he tells you breathlessly, surprising you with a forceful kiss. he manages to distract you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and brushing against yours as his fingers squeeze your hips and start guiding you to grind on his lap. you let him call the shots for a moment, slowly moving your hips against his now half hard cock and sinking your fingers on his hair to scratch his scalp lovingly.
however, when his hands start to wander underneath your borrowed shirt you bite his lip softly, letting it slot back in place as you pull away.
he's about to complain, big brown eyes staring at you and almost pouting. you press your pointer finger to his lips, silencing him, hips still moving at a torturously slow pace against him.
"there's one more thing, actually" you move your finger away and trace his bottom lip carefully.
"more?" his eyebrows raise in question.
"what about you... i don't know, maybe you can be a rough with me? like slapping me a little bit"
"slapping?! babe, i don't wanna hurt you and i don't-"
"you slap my ass all the time!" you accuse him, reminding him of all the times you'd walk past him or bend down and he had slapped your butt teasingly.
"yeah, jokingly"
"babe, i trust you" you grip his face, forcing him to look at you. "i know you'd never hurt me if i didn't ask you to. i just think it'd be really hot, and who knows... maybe you'll like it too. and if you really don't like it we'll never speak of this again" you shrug, gently pushing his hair from his face.
"you sure?" you nod and press a quick kiss to his lips.
"if you wanna stop just say red, okay? anytime."
"yeah, i like that"
"you'll tell me if you wanna stop, right?" you press another quick kiss to his lips in thanks.
he nods eagerly "you too, okay? just say the word and we'll stop" you nod in agreement. "okay... but now what? do i just... jump right into it?"
"no... what about we start the way we always do before having sex?" you smirk, starting to move your hips in slow circular motions again and his hands slide down your back to slip under your t-shirt again.
he laughs huskily next to ear, making you shiver. "we're really good at that", his lips make contact with the skin of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses there. you keep moving on top of him, hands sinking into his hair and keeping him there.
"fuck, steve" you whine when he sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck, his hands squeezing your thighs roughly, moulding fat like dough underneath his fingertips.
suddenly you feel a sharp sting on your backside as steve slaps your ass. you whine deep in your throat and your hips stutter in their rhythm against his lap.
"oh, you really like it when i do that"
"god, i do" you breathlessly tell him with a smile, tugging his hair harshly to guide him to your mouth. "you like this too, don't you? just wanna give me what i need, huh baby?"
"i do, i do. just want my girl to feel good" he whines against your mouth, while he spreads your ass and digs his fingers into your skin.
you kiss him some more, until you can feel his now hard cock against you, through the lace fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants. his hand lift up your t-shirt and carefully takes it off of you.
"god, you're gorgeous" you push on his chest gently until his back is against the headboard so you can show him the whole thing, from the intricate lace to the small straps keeping everything together. "you got this for me?" he teases you, his hands playing with your underwear, pulling it and letting it snap against the skin of your hip.
"yeah..." you answer distractedly, his cock rubbing in a very nice spot near your covered clit. his hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing your pebbled nipple through your bra. "you like it?"
"fuck yeah, i love it" one of his hand cups your breast, while the other pushes the fabric of your bra down so he can pull and twist your nipple.
you're already a mess on top of him, feeling the wetness on your underwear sticking to your folds, when he lowers his head to suck your nipple into his mouth and his hand plays with your other breast. the nails of your left hand dig half crescent moons on his bare shoulders while the other tug on his hair to keep him there and your head drops back in pleasure.
his hand stops massaging your breasts and you're about to complain when you feel it start to slip down your stomach and hook under your underwear to rub his fingers through your wetness, his knuckles grazing your clit. you hold him tighter, a loud moan leaving your lips when he sinks two fingers inside of you.
"yes, yes, yes, baby" you whine, hiding your face in his hair as he realeases your nipple with a lewd pop.
"you're so fucking wet" he rasps against you and sucks a mark on the swell of your breast, pumping his fingers in and out of you as the palm of his hand rubbing on your clit everytime he moves. "god, you feel so good around my fingers. can't wait to have my dick inside you."
you're lost in the rhythm of it, his palm brushing your clit at every stroke, the feeling of his lips sucking on your chest and his hips bucking underneath yours occasionally. but you finally reach your peak when his free hand slips down your back and slaps your ass again, harder this time, palming it underneath his fingertips.
"that's it... come for me, baby" you pull him to your mouth again as you come down and he guides you through it, still feeling yourself clenching on his fingers as you twitch in his lap.
"god, you're so fucking hot" you whisper against his mouth, still breathless. "you're so good to me, baby. such a good boy"
suddenly, he's holding you tighter and manhandling you, roughly dropping you on your back and looming over you between your knees. before you can react, he's ripping off his sweatpants and throwing it on his bedroom floor.
he stands completely naked in front of you, helping you spread your legs. you eye him lustfully, from his mussed hair to his throbbing cock standing tall, the tip pink and dripping with a little pre cum.
"can i go down on you?" you ask him avidly, starting to lift yourself up but he stops you, holding your wrist above your body.
"nuh-uh, baby. i'm gonna blow my load if you do that" he denies and you giggle, about to complain when he licks the palm of his free hand and strokes himself one, two, three times, shutting you up real quick. he's starting to align himself with your entrance when you stop him.
"wait, wait" he stops immediately.
"what? what's wrong?"
"i want you from behind"
he groans, dropping his head on the curve of your neck and letting go of your wrists. "you really can't say shit like that to me if you want me to last"
you giggle and tap his shoulder sympathetically, "you'll live". you lightly scratch his back, sliding your hands from his shoulder to his lower back and wrap your legs around his hips, feeling the tip of his cock nudging your inner thigh. "now... why don't you put me on my knees, handsome?"
he quickly moves to reposition you, helping you lift yourself up and pushing your spine down gently when you get on your knees. you lower your torso all the way until your chest is pressed against his bedsheets, lifting your ass up.
"fuck, baby. you look so good like this" he says when he slots himself behind you.
"maybe you should listen to me more, harrington" you tease, looking at him from over your shoulder as he kneads your ass.
"maybe i should, pretty girl" he answers distractedly, and you feel his thumb spreading your entrance. "look at this pretty pussy"
you moan and try to wriggle in the hold he has on your hips, "steeeve-"
he laugh mockingly and starts rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. "you this desperate babe?"
before you can answer he starts sinking himself inside, both of you sighing at the feeling. when he's finally inside you can't help the moan that escapes you, his big cock filling you up beautifully and the stretch in this position making you feel so full. however, his strokes are slow and languid and while that's nice, it's not exactly what you need.
"come on, babe" you grumble, trying to rock your hips against his grip. "fuck me like you mean it"
he scoffs and speeds up, his hand wrapping around your hair to press your face against his mattress and to keep you still, changing the angle slightly and pressing right against your spot inside of you.
"is this how you want it?" he huffs, slapping you again.
"oh god, yes. right there!"
he pulls you up until you're both kneeling on the bed, his hips slapping against your ass. his free hand climbs up your chest until it's resting on your neck. "do you want-?"
"yes, i want it. please, please, choke me" you interrupt, begging him to keep going, begging him for more. his fingers carefully start squeezing you throat and you wrap your hand around his to guide him until the pressure is just right.
"squeezing my cock so tight, baby. should've told me you wanted this sooner."
you don't get to answer, his free hand suddenly slipping down to rub circles on your clit and you're gone, your orgasm hitting you like a fright train. he helps you ride it out, until you gently pull his hand away and bend down again, resting your weight on your elbows.
"your turn, baby" you tell him, tilting your head slightly so you can see him.
he starts babbling and pressing you harder against the bed, a clear sign that he's close himself. he bends down, his chest against your back until he can stretch his hand out to hold yours against the mattress and he can babble against your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, how much he loves being inside you.
"that's it, babe. you made me feel so good, it's your turn now" you tell him, still slightly breathless and sensitive around his cock. "please come, need you to come so bad"
"god, i'm gonna cum" and it's all it takes to feel him pull out and finish himself off on your back. you're both still for a second as you catch your breath and he squeezes your hand still intertwined in his gently. when you turn your face to the side to see him, he presses a kiss to your cheek.
he taps your hips gently as he gets up and goes to the bathroom, coming back quickly to wipe you and himself clean with a wet washcloth. when he's done he throws it on top of the rest of his dirty laundry, still thrown on his bedroom floor.
when he finally turns to you, you're finally laying on your back and getting comfortable on his pillow. steve throws himself next to you and his arms immediately wrap around your waist. you hug him back, guiding his head to rest on top of your bare chest, now littered with purpling marks.
"you had fun, pretty girl?"
"you couldn't tell?" you laughter, his head shaking slightly against your chest as you comb his hair away from his face and his breath against your skin.
"god, i'm obsessed with you" he complains, hiding his face on your boob. you laugh, gently coaxing his face away so you can see him.
"that's good," you smooth the messy hairs on his eyebrow. "i'm pretty obsessed with you too"
"we're pretty perfect for each other then"
"you should keep me forever" you tease, tracing his features gently. he presses a kiss to your sternum and gets comfortable against you.
"maybe i will"
it sounds like a pretty good deal.
1K notes · View notes
xxblairexxss · 14 days
Text
Cookies!
Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader
Them : Angst, I think.
Word count : 2k
Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.
I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔
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Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.
But you did.
There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.
Some even called you lucky.
A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.
But there were still ups and downs.
The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.
“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.
Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.
And so did Aaralyn.
Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.
“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”
You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”
“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.
“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.
She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”
“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”
“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.
“What kind of powder?”
“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.
••
Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.
“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.
“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.
The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.
“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.
“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.
You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.
“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.
“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.
You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.
“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.
“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.
“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.
Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”
“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”
You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.
“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.
“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.
Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.
“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.
“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.
Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.
“Daddy…?”
“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.
“It’s me, Alyn!”
“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.
Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.
Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.
“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.
“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”
“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.
Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”
Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.
“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.
“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.
“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”
“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.
“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.
“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.
“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”
Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.
You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.
“Come, baby,”
Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”
Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.
“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”
“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.
“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”
**
Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.
3:02
Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.
It was empty. Untouched even.
“Honey?”
His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.
“Aaralyn. Honey?”
Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.
“Daddy’s
— Aarlyn ❤️”
••
You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.
As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.
Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.
“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.
“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.
“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.
“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.
“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”
“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.
“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.
“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.
“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”
546 notes · View notes
jallerentrags · 19 days
Text
Better than him.
James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.
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James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.
He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.
Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.
At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.
He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.
“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”
James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.
“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.
“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”
Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.
“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.
“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.
“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”
“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”
James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.
“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”
————————————————————————-
The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.
"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.
"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.
"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.
From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.
"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."
"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."
James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."
You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.
You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.
"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."
"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.
"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.
"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.
"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.
"You'd like that." you said between laughs.
"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, hands balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.
The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:
'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’
- Y/n Black and James Potter
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
Note
Hey, I dont know if you are currently acepting asks but... Please can you write something with Clockwork/Alfred? I'll give you a cookie?
I really love how you write and i cant find fics with this ship
Danny gets a cryptic message from Clockwork the night that he, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are supposed to go on a three-week College tour road trip.
A trip that they were going to use to decide where the three graduating students planned on going to college. Jazz was coming along to ease their parents' worry, mainly as a voice of reason. She had taken time off of work and classes just to make this happen.
It had taken months to plan.
So cryptic messages put a damper on the mood. Granted, all notifications from Clockwork were cryptic, but that didn't make this any less stressful.
He had just sat by his bed, leaning his back onto his lower bed frame and mattress, when he noticed the glowing sticker note on the carpeted floor.
"What does it say?" Sam sighs, closing her suitcase. She was kneeling a few feet away from him, double-checking their luggage. "A warning about the trip? Insight of an upcoming trial? Oh, let me guess, one of us is pregnant?."
"It's me, isn't it?" Tuck asks from where he's lying on Danny's bed. He places a hand under his chin with a sigh. "I've noticed a glow in my reflection lately. Danny, you're the Father."
"Shut it, Tuck." Danny laughs, turning the glowing sticky note over. "It just has an address, a date, and a time. Nothing else. I think he wants us to go there when the day comes."
Jazz walks in carrying a tray. She insisted they all take some bedtime tea to help them get enough rest for the drive. She recently started making her own blends after much research and experimenting. Danny loves it and always begs for a jar of her tea whenever he visits her. "What's going on?"
"We have to add a stop to the road plan," Sam sighs. She takes the black mug covered in white laughing sculls, nodding in gratitude to the redhead. "In one week, we have to go to Gotham."
"That's doable. We'll be going through Bludhaven by then. We would use the following two days to go sightseeing a few cities over, but we can sacrifice one of them to head to Gotham instead." Jazz hums, mentally going over their planned-out map that she likely memorized.
Danny groans, carefully resting the black mug with white constellations on the floor beside him. "I really wanted to see the hot springs resort, though."
"Member next time, Danny." Tuck pats his head while his own black mug- this one with little game controllers- is held carefully in his other hand. "After the baby is born, we'll go again."
"Why are you stuck on the whole baby thing?"
"Danny, that's no way to speak to the father of your children, especially while he's carrying," Sam chided from her corner. "The stress is bad for the baby."
"Please stop."
"But Danny," Jazz cuts in, sitting across from him. She crosses her legs underneath her, and her black mug with white books completes the set. "You should be supportive of Tucker in this very delicate time."
"I'm going to Go Ghost and never come back."
"I knew you be a deadbeat dad," Tucker tsks.
The four burst into impish laughter; the ease of the teasing joke and the calming tea rekindled the mood of excitement, even with Clockwork's glowing sticky note being shoved into their luggage to be revisited in a week.
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"Are you sure this is the place?" Danny asks again, leaning forward to where Tucker is driving.
Jaz looks around in fascination at the large houses and spacious yards they pass while Sam sleeps beside Danny in the backseat. She just finished her turn driving for seven hours and wanted to catch up on sleep.
Personally, Danny thinks she shouldn't volunteer for the first shift- they set out at four in the morning to keep to their road plan- but he knows no one else would do it if Sam didn't.
Neither Fenton works well before nine a.m., while Tucker needs help seeing in the dark, so he always gets the day shift.
Tucker's grip on the steering wheel tightens as he grits through his teeth. "For the sixth time, Danny, this is where the GPS said to go. I am literally staring at the icon move on the map as I drive."
"It's just....look at this place! It's rich people. I think they call the cops on us for driving through here." Danny defends, knowing his consent doubts driving his bed friend up a wall but unable to stop fretting.
"I don't think they call the cops....but I think we should move as quickly as possible." Jazz advised as the houses started to grow in both size and property amount. "We're almost there."
"Why would Clockwork want us to come here?" Tucker hissed as their old beat-up fan made a turn into a road that had the trees cut into arches above their heads. It was so obviously fancy that the three got highly uncomfortable. Even Sam's house wasn't so drenched in wealth, and this was just the front entrance.
"Maybe he wants us to investigate a haunted mansion." Danny offers, "Since we're in the area and all."
Danny leans back in his seat. He glances over at Sam; upon noticing the blanket she was using had slid down, he reaches over to tuck her in.
It's just as he sits back that his enhanced sight catches the faintest outline of a man in the trees, crouched down on a branch and watching them. Danny's heart spams, but he has no time to react further as the van moves on and the man's figure disappears in the floral.
"Holy shit!" Danny swears loudly, causing Tucker to jump and tilt the van.
"Dude!" Tucker hisses, "Don't do that! You scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry, sorry." Danny places a hand over his heart, trying to calm the rapid beating. "I think I just saw a demon. Pretty sure that's what Clockwork wanted us to investigate."
"A demon?" Jazz whimpers, eyes flickering all over the trees with unease. "Are you sure it was a demon?"
"It looked liked like a one," Danny responds. "I highly doubt some guy will just go around dressed like a bat for fun."
" Great. Just great. A demon, that's going to be so much fun to deal with," Tucker complains, pressing on the gas more. They don't call him out as the feeling of being watched becomes suffocating.
The sooner they're out of the open, the better.
The end of the driveway opens up to a grand manor that would have made any noble Lord green with envy. Tucker drives around the giant fountain, pulling up to the park in front of the stairway of the main entry.
He squints out the front window as he loops before gasping. "Is that Clockwork?"
The Fenton Siblings each press their noses to the glass of their windows when they come to a complete stop. Both gasped at the exact same time and in the same volume at the man who was casually waiting for them at the door.
It's obviously Clockwork, but he's not in the form they are used to. Not the flouting child, not the sticking middle-aged man, or the aged old entity. No, the form Clockwork uses is a man in his early fifties, with the grace of a sliver fox and, oh, not a ghost.
"Hello, children," Clockwork says, walking down the stairs to meet them. The three are staring at him with slack jaws, half out of their vehicle but lingering in their doors just in case.
Sam snores.
"I'm ever so glad you have come." Clockwork continues, his green eyes flickering with mirth. A smile pulls at his lips, causing laughing lines to appear around his eyes, and it complements his warm bridge skin. He is not blue. "Not a moment too late. Punctual as ever, Jasmine."
"I- ugh, thank you, sir." Jazz shutters before getting her wits about her. "Why did you call us?"
"I will be delaying your trip for the next week." Clockwork lifts up a hand as if to stop any complaints this announcement may cause, which isn't really necessary, seeing as none of them can find the strength to speak. "I will, of course, make it possible to make up the time lost. I just need you four to act as my children for the next week."
"Why?" Tucker's voice is barely above a whisper.
"I can only keep this form for seven days, as I am not a halfa, but in that time, I hope to woo a man. He is a family man through and through, so if I can show him that I am more than capable of caring for a large family, it will help me in the long run." Clockwork then shrugs. "Plus, I need an anchor, and what better than four virgins?"
"Hey!" Danny shouts offended.
Clockwork raises a brow. "Am I wrong, Daniel?"
"No, but you didn't have to expose me like that," Danny grumbles.
"Who are you trying to woo?" Jazz asks, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
Clockwork's cheeks gain a reddish hue, and the three eyes practically pop out of their socket. They never knew the time god could be so...human. It's jarring. "Alfred Pennyworth. The butler of Wayne Manor, four houses down from our manor."
"A butler?" Tucker repeats slowly, "You, the god of time and overseer of all that is, has been, and will be, want to seduce a butler?"
"Yes. He is the love of my core," Clockwork nods determinedly.
Well, who can argue with that?
"Alright." Danny agrees. "So what's our cover story?"
"Yes, my four children- all adopted- and I have recently decided to go learn about our family roots and visit our ancestral home. Only to remodel and check out the family records, we will be out by the end of the week to our next grand adventure. We are old money but one that faded from importance due to lack of contact with the rest of high society. To remedy this, I will be taking you to high-class events." Clockwork sighs dreamily. "We were invited by the Waynes to a gala tomorrow night as a welcome-back party. There, I will see Alfred."
"Alright. And the demon?"
"Demon?"
"A man in the driveway that looked like a bat." Danny helpfully says, even though his voice wavers slightly.
"Oh, you mean Bruce. Yes, that's Alfred's son. Don't worry; he can not cross our driveway. I put a spell that causes humans to forget why they were coming here if not invited by us. Also, he is not a demon. He is a human who dresses like a bat to fight crime. Bruce's children dress like birds to help him."
There is silence that sounds louder than it should as they all take in this information. Clockwork smiles at him, mischievous and graceful in equal parts as they try to make sense of the weird kid Alfred the Butler has.
"I'm going to need a lot of stress-reducing teas for this week." Jazz sighs.
"We can go buy some for you tonight," Clockwork promises, pulling out a black card and grinning with all his teeth. "We're old money now, darling."
"oh my god."
Master Post Link
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Love Language
masterlist
summary: you’ve never said it, neither has he…is that weird?
paring: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 0.6k
warnings: language, not being able to say “i love you”, talk of sex
author’s note: i always found it interesting dean never told lisa he loved her…like ever. which is strange to me, considering how long they were together?
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Three whole years you’d been with Dean, and neither of you saw an end anywhere in sight. You had grown up a hunter and you’d hit it off with Dean almost instantly when you had met him about five years ago. What started off as a wholesome friendship became deeper and more passionate after a night of drinking.
He cared about you so fucking much, you cared about him too. You were deeply in love. But neither of you had ever actually said love.
It was beginning to really bother you. Why hadn’t he said it? Every other relationship you had up until now had imploded long before the three-year-mark because of your inability to say the three big words.
Did Dean not love you? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t said it yet. You knew you felt that way about him, that you L-worded him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way.
“You okay?” Dean asked when he looked up from the lore book he was reading and was met with your blank stare.
“Yeah…just thinking.”
“About?”
“Do you think it’s weird we haven’t said you-know-what to each other yet?” you asked. He furrowed his brows before he realized what you meant.
“Oh…no? No, definitely not.”
“Dean,” you sighed, closing the book in front of you. “I care about you so much it’s fucking insane but-”
“Right back at ‘cha! Let’s just leave it at that,” he cut you off.
“But, isn’t it strange we can’t say you-know-what? I mean I’d fucking die for you and I can’t say the three words? That’s fuckin’ weird!”
“To be fair, you have died for me. Like twice now,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood. You smiled a little. “And maybe we haven’t said the words but we’ve done other things.”
“If you’re talking about sex right now I swear to god-”
“No!” he chuckled. “I’m talking about that time you jumped in front of a bullet for me. I’m talking about when you were dying in my arms and I made a deal with Crowley to save you. I’m talking about how you bring me chicken noodle soup when I’m sick and force me to stay in bed till I’m feeling better. I’m talking about how many times I’ve bought you tampons and pads and chocolates so you didn’t have to leave the bunker when you were on your period.
“I’m talking about letting you drive Baby, I’m talking about you letting me use your precious espresso machine. I’m talking about the way I look at you when you aren’t looking, and the way you laugh at my clearly un-funny jokes. I’m talking about holding you when you cry and bringing you breakfast in bed. I’m talking about you letting me sleep on your boobs because they’re more comfortable than our pillows even though I know you’re sore in the morning.”
You let out a laugh and slightly rolled your eyes, though you were swelling inside. Dean smiled as he continued.
“I’m talking about those three words that we don’t even have to say because we prove to eachother we feel it every fucking day.”
“God damn it Dean Winchester!” You shook your head, still smiling. You got off the chair, walked around the table, and sat down in his lap. You put your hands on his face and kissed him sweetly. “You mean everything to me, you know that?”
“I do,” he whispered as you rested your forehead on his. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” You nodded. “See, then I think that’s enough.”
“Me too,” you replied before you kissed him again.
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rose-pearls · 3 months
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Hi! Could request something for clarisse x reader? Where reader is daughter of persphone and she’s sweet and kind but also strong and intimidating and can stand for herself and that’s what clarisse likes abt her
Hi! Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!!
Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)
Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303 (open)
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Clarisse loved her girlfriend, but she could sometimes be too kind towards others, most specifically towards a certain Poseidon’s son.
“I don’t understand why you dislike him so much, he is a sweetheart,” you tell her one evening, wrapped in her arms as she tries not to fall asleep as your fingers brush against her skin delicately.
“I just don’t like him, he brings too much attention to himself,” she says, feeling a bit annoyed at the turn of conversation but as she smells the delicate smell of honey blossom, she feels herself calm down. Every child of Persephone had a certain smell of flowers that followed them, but it could change due to their mood. The only flowers she could pinpoint in yours were honey blossom and roses when Clarisse managed to make you blush or when you got angry.
“He doesn’t do it on purpose, just give him a chance,” Clarisse was happy when you then turned the conversation to another topic, not wanting to spend more time than necessary on the stupid topic of Percy Jackson. 
Everyone knew you were kind; it was something that was known around camp when you helped others around, but it was also known that you were Clarisse’s girlfriend and that you were fiercely loyal to the Ares daughter. Some people saw it as a flaw, your unwavering loyalty, but she only saw it as proof of your love.
Kindness was often seen as a weakness, but Clarisse could make a whole book about you where she proves that entire point wrong, you had proven that to her when playing capture the flag. You weren’t just as sweet as a blossom but just as deadly as a rose, she had seen you throw a dagger at the head of a camper, only slightly cutting the skin of his cheeks.
“Try to take the flag again and this time I won’t avoid cutting your face entirely,” the sweet daughter of Persephone had said with a tone that would make even the god’s tremble. And that is how Clarisse had fallen for you; hard and fast as she saw you cutting through the other team as if you were just helping the Demeter kids growing flowers. 
She had been waiting patiently, or not as she had no patience, for Chiron to reveal who would be on which team in Capture the flag. Rules had been made at one point that the Athena and Ares cabin would always be on opposite teams as they couldn’t get along, just like their parents. But the other cabins were often mixed up between the two.
“I can’t believe he would do this to me!”, Clarisse screams, and a couple of children scramble away at the angry daughter of Ares.
“Clarisse?”, you ask softly, making her slightly relax as she smells the comforting smell of flowers. You seem worried, hands on your hips as you look at her with wide eyes.
“Chiron put you on Annabeth’s team, I’m sure that little devil is really happy right now,” she murmurs the last part, crunching the paper in her hand as she begins to plot her revenge.
Your hand softly covers her, and she feels your fingers slowly stroke a pattern on her hand to try and get her to loosen her grip on the paper. When she finally does let go you take a look at the paper, humming to yourself as you see the teams.
“You have the Hermes cabin, which means you have Luke. Not all is lost my love,” Clarisse can’t help but blush at the nickname, you didn’t say it that often but when you did it would turn her into a blushing mess, just like right now.
“I would rather have you then Castellan and the other pipsqueaks,” she says, going back to her grumbling but she looks at you as you laugh softly.
“Common, it will all be alright. This is good, now you can already mentally prepare yourself to lose,” Clarisse raises her eyebrows at your statement, a smirk can be found on your glossed lips.
“Oh, really? And what you think that you are going to win this?” she whispers as she gets closer to you and you nod, confidence radiating off you.
“Of course, I will, and I will enjoy wiping the floor with your bodies,” you say and Clarisse doesn’t know if she feels competitive or hot and bothered at the sight of you so confident.
“Better prepare yourself to prove that statement princess, wouldn’t want to see you crying on the floor at the end,” Clarisse says, and she enjoys the scoff you let out at her words.
“Give me your worst La Rue,” you tell her, and she can only whisper it back before brining you into a heated kiss, efficiently bringing the conversation to a stop.
--
She should’ve known Annabeth would be using you against her, after all the girl was smart even at the age of twelve.
“Funny seeing you here,” she hears you say, and she can’t help but snort at your words before seeing a dagger in your hand.
“Common princess, really? Just one dagger?”, she can’t help but say, feeling already like they were going to win this game of Capture the flag.
“I don’t need more, you on the other hand seem to have a lot of weapons on you. Isn’t that too much weight?”, you ask her, with that sweet voice you always used on her, if you had been a daughter of Aphrodite, it could’ve been seen as charm speaking. But then again it only seemed to work on her. 
You get closer to her, much more than how close you would usually get to an opponent, but she doesn’t say anything as she can only enjoy the touch of your fingers as you adjust her strap.
“You look so stunning in this, like a real warrior,” she knows you are trying to get to her, get her to lower her guard and it works, of course it does.
“Please don’t be mad at me?”, you whisper and before she can ask why you push her in the direction of the water, her sibling quickly falling with her as an invisible Annabeth pushes him.
“Percy, now!”, Annabeth yells and the boy manages to crash a huge wave on them before they can try to get up. The girl takes the flag and puts her cap on before running as fast as she can through the forest.
“Good job water boy,” you tell him as he comes out of the water, somehow already completely dry with a smirk on his lips. 
“This was fun!”, he says before he sees a glaring Clarisse starting to stand up and running away in the direction of the blue flag.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” the Ares girl says with furrowed eyebrows, and you can see the glare in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, it was Annabeth plan, and I couldn’t really tell her that I wasn’t going to do it,” you tell her, but she grumbles under her breath, still looking beautiful even completely wet.
“I’ll make it up to you,” you tell her as you get closer to her, and she raises her eyebrows in interest.
“Really? How?”, she asks, and you smile as you wrap your arms around her neck, smiling even wider as you feel her arms slowly circle around your waist.
“You can decide, I’ll do anything you want for the rest of the day,” you tell her, and a flicker of mischief appears in her eyes, and you know far too well what that means.
“Except for pushing Percy into the water,” you tell her, and a pout appears on her lips.
“Fine, I want you to spend the rest of the day with me and give me your dessert at diner. I also want a back massage,” she has a smirk on her lips, and you quickly nod in agreement, excited to spend the rest of the day with her.
“And one more thing,” she says but before you can ask what her hands on your hips twist you around and push you into the cold water. 
As you come back up, you can’t help but laugh at your satisfied girlfriend.
“Now we’re even,” she says before taking her armor off and joining you into the water.
--
Requests are open!
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awfcspencer · 3 months
Text
Nine Months || leah williamson x reader
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leah williamson x pregnant!reader
Part 1
prompt: The 9 months leading up to the arrival of your baby.
warnings: pregnancy, throwing up, self-doubt/anxiety, mentions of miscarriage, mostly fluff but a few instances of angst.
a/n: almost 7 thousand words of fluff
Month 1: Poppy Seed
Upon flipping the positive pregnancy test, your whole life suddenly felt fast, there felt like a million things you need to accomplish. You have having a baby. You quickly scheduled a prenatal appointment and the doctor told you that you were about 5 weeks pregnant. She prescribed you some vitamins and medications to help the baby grow properly and scheduled a few more future visits.
Leah had gone out and bought several pregnancy books. You joked with her that she had purchased out a whole bookstore when she brought home roughly about 13 books and there was no way she would actually read them. But she did read each one, thoroughly, even taking little notes on post-its and showing you passages she found interesting. One of the books she had bought had a little pregnancy growth chart, indicating your baby was about the size of a poppy seed, it was hard to imagine something so small. Every month she would tell you how big your baby was getting through the sizes of fruits, it always made you laugh. Almost every day you had to convince Leah not to buy something baby-related. You would be at the shops and she would see an outfit or a toy and plead with you that you had to buy it. When you weren’t looking she would place whatever it was in the cart and you wouldn’t notice until you got home.
You had experienced pretty typical symptoms, swollen breasts, mood swings, and nausea, but nothing too extreme. To be fair, it mostly just felt like you were on a month long period. But you now found yourself rubbing small circles on your stomach more often. Right before you and Leah would go to bed, she would always politely ask to put her hands on your belly. She wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable and you would always tell her that she really didn’t need to ask, she was also the baby’s mother, but every time without fail she would ask for permission. Leah would whisper small affirmations to your belly and sealed it with a kiss.
“Do you think the baby can hear you yet?” you ask her.
“One of the books I read says the baby can begin to hear sounds at around 18 weeks.” she quickly tells you, feeling satisfied in her knowledge that she got from all the reading she did.
“Oh, what a nerd” you jokingly say to her, hitting her with a plush pillow.
“Your nerd” she replies as she sends you a cheeky smile and a kiss.
“So corny,” you tell her, shaking your head slightly before dozing off to bed in her arms.
Month 2: Raspberry
Today’s appointment was one you and Leah had been crucially waiting for, circled on the calendar for weeks, today you would hear the baby’s heartbeat for the very first time. You had previously looked up pregnancy journeys to get an idea of what to expect and you knew that for some people, this is where some parents had found out that their sweet angel baby had passed. The thought was absolutely crushing and waved over your head as Leah drove you to the clinic, it was utterly terrifying. Since you had taken the IVF route, there was a higher possibility of having a miscarriage up until the second trimester. You tried to keep your cool and not tell Leah in fear that if you got the horrible news, would she blame you, would she hate you? Your hormones were all over the place and did not help you whatsoever so when it all bubbled over and you broke out in instant tears when you pulled into the parking lot, Leah knew something was wrong.
“Baby what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you in any pain?” she quickly asks as she turns to face you in the car, reaching out to hold you hand.
You try to answer her through your sobs, only being able to get out, “...You will hate me”
“Hey hey hey, I need you to calm down love. Breathe in and out okay?” she tells you as she over exaggerates her breathing to have you follow along. Her comforting soft voice and the physical contact of your hands, you manage to relax.
“I was online and loads of people say that this appointment can shows sign of birth defects or even if…” You can’t get yourself to finish the sentence, not even wanting to possibly speak it into existence. But Leah knows what you are talking about, she’s done her research too, she’s read about this appointment, she knows the news you could hear.
“Look at me”, she pulls your lowered head up by your chin, “Whatever happens in there, we will weather it together okay? I could never, ever, hate you. You are the bravest and strongest person I know and the courage it has taken for you to go through this process is already enough for me. I’m sure baby is perfect, just like her mother.” Her words put you a little at ease, this was something neither one of you had ever done, it was scary but also you knew it would eventually be the best thing to ever happen to the both of you.
Once you had managed to calm down a bit more, thanks to Leah’s perfect ability to know exactly what to say, you walked into the appointment with high hopes.
The female doctor was kind, asking you questions on how everything was and if there were any problems. On the table, you and Leah held hands, needing to be as close to her as you could. The time had come and the doctor warned you that the gel would be cold. You squeezed Leah’s hand tighter.
The next few seconds felt like forever, a lifetime, desperately waiting to hear the pitter-patter of a heartbeat. And then it came. A strong heartbeat was music to your ears. Your baby’s heartbeat. Tears brimmed in your eyes as did Leah’s, it was the most perfect and beautiful sound. You wish you could burn it on a CD and listen to it forever, luckily, Leah had recorded it on her phone so you could replay it any time you wanted.
“See baby, it’s perfect” she beamed. For Leah, this was incredibly special. She was sat with the love of her life listening to their baby’s heartbeat. The moment was perfect, just the three of you. A healthy baby was all she could ask for.
Month 3: Lime
For the third straight morning in a row, you had woken up to overwhelming nausea and was sat hunched over the toilet throwing up. If anything, it was mostly just annoying, but every time you though about how much you hated having morning sickness, you quickly reminded yourself that you were growing a full baby, your baby. Leah had started to become a light sleeper when you initially realized you were expecting, wanting to be ready for anything at all times. So when you felt a body come behind you to rub your back and hold your hair, you knew it was Leah.
“Baby you are doing so well” she coos as you once again throw up, her long fingernails run up and down your back, trying her best to soothe you. Your sore everywhere, your breasts continue to get bigger and more tender, your lower back now aches constantly, and you have to pee more often than you ever have. But you knew it was worth it, willing to do it a hundred times over.
Each morning you woke up sick, Leah would try to stay home from training, but each time you would convince her to go, explaining you and baby were fine and you promised you would call if you needed anything. At this point, you and Leah were the only two to know, keeping it just the two of you for a little bit, enjoying the journey together. Leah had secretly told an Arsenal staff member that exchanged numbers with you to text or call in case anything happened.
At one of your appointments, Leah had asked for an extra ultrasound of your baby so she could put in her locker in the changing room. Her teammates had asked about it, telling them it was a future cousin. If they had taken a second to look closer, they would have seen your name at the top. She liked having a piece of her future baby near her, spurring her on to play better, practice harder.
This was also the month when you finally let Leah go crazy and buy more things for the baby. You just didn’t expect Leah to buy so much, receiving a package almost every day. You were sure the postman had your address memorized with how often he was there. But you can’t deny that the tiny outfits or booties weren’t absolutely adorable and increased your already high need for the baby to arrive. Since you and Leah had not found out the gender yet, most of the stuff was necessities or gender-neutral things.
One day after training, Leah ran into the house screaming for you to close your eyes. Doing so, she places something in your hands.
“Open”
A small Arsenal baby kit with the last name Williamson across the back along with a small number 6.
“Awe baby! When did you get this?” you asked holding up the small jersey. It was so tiny but one day your baby would be wearing it, and your heart swelled.
“I told the man working it was for a family member, fresh off the press today.” she smiled.
“It’s perfect” giving her a kiss and pulling her down so she could massage your achy shoulders, “Love you baby,” you told her as her strong hands helped relieve some of the tension.
Month 4: Sweet Potato
The beginning of your second trimester was relieving as most miscarriages occur in the first trimester, so you were passed one of the scary humps. Your morning sickness had thankfully passed, a godsend really. One thing that had dramatically increased was your very quick mood changes and your emotions. You found yourself snapping at Leah when you really didn’t mean to, but she was always slow with you, understanding it was just a matter of hormones and you didn't mean to get angry. You also had a bad case of pregnancy forgetfulness, you would say something one second and completely forget it the next.
“Leah I do not want pizza for dinner, I said I wanted Nando’s” you angrily say to her, thinking she never listens to you, quickly becoming agitated.
“Babe you told me like maybe 10 minutes ago that you wanted to order pizza in. Do you want me to cancel it and order something different?” Leah pinches the bridge of her nose, clearly stressed out trying to figure out what to get for dinner since you had suddenly changed your mind.
“I never said that! Great now you are mad at me” Tears begin to brim, begging to fall from your eyes. You really thought you had said you wanted Nando’s but now you can’t remember, did you say you wanted pizza?
“I am not mad love, I just want to make sure you and baby eat.” Reaching for her phone as she orders online from Nando’s getting your favorite without even having to ask, knowing you like the back of her hand.
“God why are you always so sweet. I’m trying to be mad at you” you tell her. She doesn’t have to respond, rather pulling you in for a hug as she wipes your tears. She carries you over to the couch to relax before the food gets here, putting on a show that the both of you have been binge watching.
Baby was growing each day and you were starting to show slightly. It was honestly crazy, it was one of the surreal moments where you really thought about how you were carrying a human inside you, it was beautiful. Both you and Leah figured that now was a good time to start telling family and close friends.
You started with Leah’s parents and her brother first, gathering them around your house for a family dinner. Dressed in an oversized jumper and sweats, nobody could really tell you were pregnant unless they knew you were. After everyone had finished eating, you and Leah announced you had a gift for them. She placed the perfectly wrapped package on the table and Leah stood behind you and placed her head on your shoulder as you watched them open it.
Inside was the same small Arsenal kit that Leah had bought. You could tell Amanda knew immediately but wanted to give the boys a chance to figure it out.
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think this might be a couple sizes to small” Jacob bluntly states, laughter filling the room as Amanda hit him in the back of the head.
David had put the pieces together a few seconds later and had gotten up to congratulate the both of you as Amanda did the same, both had gotten emotional which made you get emotional and then Leah emotional, a happy emotional though.
“Oh I’m so excited” Amanda beams smiling with tears in her eyes. By now Jacob had finally realized and said his round of congratulations, telling the both of you that he calls ‘the fun uncle’, causing both of you to chuckle.
Telling your family went roughly the same, your parents sending congratulations and wishings, discussing each way they were going to spoil the baby when they arrive.
Next up was the Arsenal girls. You and Leah thought back and forth on how you wanted to tell them, trying to figure out the best way. You both had settled on getting each of the girls little plaques that had their names with the word ‘aunt’ written in front of it. Leah had gotten all the girls together at lunch and announced that you would be joining them, which was not untypical for you. The girls all loved you and enjoyed when you were around. Walking in with the bags of gifts, the girls immediately greet you.
“Leah your missus is glowing, way out of your league” the irish woman yells at Leah when you make your appearance. Leah quickly slaps her upside the head and pulls you in for a quick hug and kiss.
“Always lovely to see you McCabe” you send her a smile as she returns the smile.
Leah explains that you had brought them all something and they light up like a kid on Christmas. With Leah’s help, you pass them all out and tell them to open them when everyone had one.
There was a moment of silence as they opened the gifts and then chaos ensued, questions thrown at you and Leah, everyone talking over themselves.
“Does this mean what I think it means?” Beth asks. You simply smile back and nod your head.
"Wait! Is the ultrasound on your locker your baby?" Steph asks as you both nod your head, Leah grinning from ear to ear.
All the girls suddenly rush to you, pulling you in a few directions trying to give you hugs or feel your belly. You really didn’t mind, you knew they were all just excited.
Leah’s yells of telling everyone to be careful or backup went unanswered.
“EVERYONE BACK UP” She yells as she now has the attention of the girls as they do as she says.
“Are you okay baby?” she quickly asks to make sure and you reassure her that you are perfect.
Her protectiveness has increased dramatically since you started to tell people. She would never let you lift anything too heavy and would much rather her do everything. She set clear boundaries when people asked to touch your belly, always assuring people that they needed to ask you, and if you ever wanted to say no or felt uncomfortable you would tell her and she would fix it. You find her protectiveness cute, and annoying at times, but mostly cute.
The girls come in small clusters up to you and you chat with every single one of them, all of them talking about babysitting, play dates, asking you questions about pregnancy and such. They were all so lovely and you were blessed that you would be raising a baby with the Arsenal girls as their role models.
Arriving home, you were dead tired, a long day on your feet and socializing. Leah helped you do your skincare as you were basically falling asleep at the sink, but not long after you were in bed. Leah was in the middle of talking to your stomach when you felt the baby kick you. At first, it didn’t register to you, but now you were suddenly awake.
“Lee the baby just kicked” you tell her, grabbing her hand to show her where you felt the kick. It took a few seconds before the baby inside your belly kicked again, but now Leah felt the kick.
“They just kicked my hand” she yells, obviously excited. For a few minutes, the baby would kick every so often before stopping for the rest of the night.
“Looks like we got a future striker in here” you jokingly tell her, knowing it will rile her up.
“No way, they will be playing defense, that’s where it is at.” She says so asserting that you can only tilt your head back and laugh. Your back is parallel with her chest, as she places a kiss on your head and whispers ‘Good night love’ in your ear. You were now about halfway through your pregnancy.
Month 5: Ear of Corn
Throughout your whole pregnancy, you and Leah both had talked about whether you guys wanted a boy or a girl. Thankfully, you were both in agreeance that all you wanted was a healthy baby, the gender did not matter, and you both would be happy either way.
For the next appointment, you had invited Amanda so the doctor could tell her the gender and she could begin to plan the gender reveal party. At every appointment, whenever you got the chance to hear the baby's heartbeat, you would soak in each second of the beautiful sound. The doctor told you that the baby was developing well and that the baby had begun to grow hair. Baby was very active now, kicking more often and it felt like they were doing backflips on your blatter every few hours.
"Do you want to know the gender?" the doctor asked.
Both of you screamed "No" very quickly, shocking the doctor a bit.
"Sorry, no, we want to do a gender reveal later. You can tell my mom though, she will be planning the whole thing." The doctor told Amanda privately and then you all left the clinic to get food. Your cravings now ran rampant and you were always hungry, obviously now eating for two.
You began to get impatient waiting for the day of the party to arrive, often times you thought about simply calling Amanda and demanding she tell you, but each time you talked yourself out of it.
The day had finally arrived, surrounded by your family, Leah's family, her Arsenal and England teammates, and other close friends piled into your backyard. The sun was shining and everyone talked among themselves. You were mostly the star of the party, everyone vying to speak with you or feel your belly, but you wanted Leah to feel important too, this was her baby shower as well. You wanted her right next to you at all times, having her answer some of the questions shot at you.
About an hour into the party, you started to get a bit overwhelmed, lots of curious hands on you, and your social battery was dying by the minute and Leah was off with a few of her teammates. You just needed a few seconds to collect yourself so you escaped off to the baby's room. You and Leah had been working piece by piece setting up the room, late nights spent building furniture and then rebuilding it when Leah wouldn't listen to you when you tried to tell her instructions. A small lion stuffed animal that Amanda had bought out at the shops one day sat in the middle of the bassinet. She had said that Leah had an identical one when she was a baby and the thought made your eyes swell with tears whenever you thought about it.
"You all good? I saw you sneak out and head up here." a voice you recognized as Alessia asked. You and Alessia had gotten quite close when she moved into your home for a few months when she first transferred to Arsenal. She was absolutely lovely to be around and she was like a sister to you.
You turn towards her with red-rimmed eyes and you can tell the poor girl is immediately stressed, quickly saying, "Do you want me to grab Leah?"
"No I'm okay Less, I just needed a few minutes from the craziness outside," you tell her as she pulls you in for a hug. You trust Alessia so you relax into her arms. The baby kicks inside your belly, almost as if they knew Aunt Less was near.
"The baby just kicked, here give me your hand." Reaching out to grab her hand and place it on your stomach, the baby kicked her hand.
"No way!" she exclaimed. "A future England number 9 in there."
"Oh please do not let Leah hear that, she has insisted the baby will play defense." you laughed out.
Walking back down with Alessia, you were told the reveal was soon. Amanda had a cake made the color blue or pink inside when you cut into it. Leah gathers everyone around as you take place behind the cake, Leah coming to your side after.
"1, 2, 3" Amanda yelled out as you cut into the cake together, each holding a piece of the knife. The cake was a light shade of pink inside.
"It's a girl!" Leah shouted out as she jumped up and down and pulled you in for a searing hug and kiss. A little baby girl. Once again, you were in tears, the pregnancy hormones never took a break.
"A baby girl!" you said.
The rest of the party had gone swimmingly, everyone raving about a little baby girl. Kyra spent a lot of time trying to convince you and Leah to name the little girl after her, claiming it was the best name possible and all you could do was laugh at her valiant effort. Alessia and Ella argued over who would be the best aunt and Viv and Beth were talking about how Myle would love the baby. Your little girl already had so many people who cared for her.
Month 6: Head of Lettuce
At this point in your pregnancy, everything had really gone according to plan. Your growing girl was hitting every milestone and the doctor assured you both that she was healthy and that at this point, her eyebrows and eyelashes had fully developed. The dreaded Braxton Hicks contractions began at the beginning of month 6. They were like painful squeezing of your uterus or abdomen but they never lasted too long and most of the time you had Leah right next to you to guide you through them. They were a bit similar to period cramps.
You weren't completely bedridden yet either, but your belly had grown significantly which made tasks such as seeing your feet or bending over particularly difficult. Your sleep had also been disrupted as you were still getting up in the middle of the night to pee. Cuddling also got a bit difficult but you and Leah managed to make it work. After long days, Leah would stand behind you and carefully lift your belly up to relieve some of the tension in your lower back.
"Baby, I am going to set her back down, is that okay?" she asks as you shake your head in agreement.
Each month, Leah would take a Polaroid of you and place it in a scrapbook she had been making to show your baby girl one day. The scrapbook was filled with ultrasound photos, and wristbands from the hospitals, and had room for when baby girl made her arrival.
Leah had taken the initiative and signed you both up for courses such as a Lamaze class. The class was to help you with breathing techniques and relaxation. In class, you were the only same-sex couple but everyone welcomed you and some even asked about the IVF process which you were happy to answer.
The teacher had you and Leah sit on a yoga mat with your back to her chest as you practiced different breathing processes. The class helped you and Leah learn a lot and prepared you for the scary nature of childbirth. Especially with Leah by your side, you knew you would be supported, and she took the classes very seriously, asking questions and taking notes to look back at when the time came.
When a particular Braxton Hick rattled through your body one night as you both lay on the couch, Leah held your hand and guided your breathing like she learned in class. When it eventually passed, you thanked her and she simply insisted there was no need.
The past months have gone rather quickly, time was flying by as you were now on the last turn before giving birth. The baby's room was now painted a light shade of grey and all of the furniture had been built. While you were excited for her to come, were you actually ready? ready to be a mother?
It all came to the forefront one night as Leah finished up talking to your bump.
"Lee? Have you ever thought maybe you won't be a good mom?" you asked in almost a whisper tone, hopefully, low enough maybe she wouldn't even hear you. But she definitely heard you.
"Love, you will be the best mother. I see how you interact with children in both of our families, they love you, and they cling to you. You have this careful nature about you and I wouldn't trust anyone else on earth with a baby than you." Leah pleads with you, wanting you to help those thoughts leave your brain.
"I needed that Lee, thank you"
"Whenever you feel that way, I want you to communicate with me, tell me how you are feeling okay? I will always be here to help." She sweetly says. You can tell she really means what she says. She understood your thoughts entirely, feeling the same way at times but she would take on her own advice and talk to you when she felt that way and you would help ease her nerves and reiterate how great of a mother she will be.
Each night she would rub your back until your breathing evens out and she knows you are asleep. Pulling your body as close to her as she could. Dreaming each night of different things she can't wait to experience as a mom, and you did the same.
Month 7: Papaya
While Leah had genuinely bought every baby product you could possibly think of, she insisted that she plan you a baby shower, wanting to hit all the major highlights of being pregnant. You secretly thanked her for it. Your home was decked out in pink decorations as family and close friends entered your home. A simple late lunch and keeping things very casual was how you wanted to spend the day. You and Leah had said on the invites that you didn't need much but that you wanted everyone to bring a book as a card and write a little note to your baby girl to eventually read one day.
The Arsenal girls piled in with several gift bags, obviously not listening. Almost every single player had purchased a small kit with their number on the back so she could wear them when she came to the games, arguing over whose jersey she would wear more.
Steph and Caitlin had purchased several small kangaroo plushies and claimed that one day you all had to visit Australia with the baby. Lotte had made the baby a little blanket herself with the Arsenal red and white colors, she was incredibly talented and you knew it would get good use. The girls had absolutely spoiled baby girl and your heart couldn't be more full. As usual, the conversation about what position in football the baby would be playing came up once again, with Katie and Beth claiming she would teach her how to score an absolute banger of goals.
The day was very relaxing and the baby was very active as most girls got to feel her kick. At the baby shower, you played a little game and found that most of the girls held a baby like a football so you had to properly teach them, you could tell Leah's eyes were threatening to beam out of her head thinking about some of them holding your precious baby.
Eventually, Leah kicked everyone out of your shared home as she could tell you were getting tired. The rest of the night was spent relaxing on the couch and picking at leftovers from the shower.
In the coming days, you and Leah spent time trying to figure out the perfect name. Naming a baby was hard, she would have this name for the rest of her life, and it was overwhelming. You bounced around ideas back and forth.
"Emily?" you ask.
"No"
"Hanna?"
"No"
"Okay Leah maybe you throw out some ideas since you say no to all of mine" you laugh out.
"What about Stella? Like the star, since she was like a wish upon a star."
"I love Stella, Stella Amanda Williamson" you stated, revealing your intention to name her after an amazing woman.
You have known for a long time how important Leah's mother was to her and you knew you wanted to incorporate it into your baby girl's name. Leah thought about it but only wanted to do it if you were comfortable with it but hadn't mentioned it yet. Amanda was an important figure in your life too and you loved her just as much as Leah.
"You want to use Amanda as her middle name?" she asked to clarify she heard you right and you nodded back to her. Leah's emotions take over her as she breaks out in tears.
"Oh baby, it's perfect," she says through cries. "I am just so happy, happy tears."
Leaning down to your belly she says, "Stella Amanda Williamson. Stella after the star that I wished on for you to come, and Amanda for your amazing grandmother who will love you endlessly." sealing it with a kiss. You and Leah would keep the secret of her name until she was born.
Month 8: Watermelon
Your body had changed drastically at this point. You felt massive in every sense of the word. Your belly had grown significantly and little stretch marks outlined the top of your stomach. Your feet were in a constant state of swelling and that is when you could even barely see them through a mirror. You were tired all the time, sleeping was even worse as you could never get comfortable, and you were in a constant state of soreness.
You were supposed to be getting ready to go out for a dinner date with Leah since you knew that when the baby girl arrived you would be very busy, wanting to relish in just you and Leah time. Most of your clothes no longer fit so you typically sported a comfy jumper and sweats, so you didn't know what to wear for tonight. All of your clothes felt too tight and you felt utterly ugly.
"Baby are you almost ready" Leah asked as she peered her head into the room to find you sobbing in front of the mirror with just your bra and underwear on.
"Hey hey hey, what's the matter?" immediately coming to your side.
"Nothing fits and I look ugly!" you scream out. Your body no longer felt like yours, all these changes happening, it was like an out-of-body experience. "I'm constantly swollen, my breasts are huge and they hurt, I look and feel massive."
Leah didn't feel the need to answer. She simply bent down and leveled her head with your stomach. She placed a soft kiss on every single one of the narrow, streak-like lines that had developed.
"You're growing a baby love. Your body is growing to change. You have never looked so beautiful to me, a goddess might I add." She kissed every inch of your body in a non-sexual way. She kissed your chest and stated, "These are growing because they will be feeding our baby love."
"Thank you baby," you told her.
"How about we order in and watch a movie? How does that sound?" she asked.
"Sounds perfect" as you threw on some comfy clothes.
Month 9: Pumpkin
The last month had finally come and Leah took her last Polaroid picture, 9 photos of your growing belly, you could barely remember being so small in your first few months. Most of your days were spent on the couch watching trashy reality TV because the doctor advised you to spend less time on your feet.
Each day you had to basically shove Leah out of your shared home to go to training, promising you would call if you needed absolutely anything. Since the Arsenal team was made aware, the girls would ask questions about you almost every day and Leah was always happy to answer, she loved talking about her little family.
The Braxton Hicks had increased dramatically, and they were now more painful and lasted longer. I mean your body was gearing up to deliver a baby.
You and Leah had mapped out a plan with every instance in the thought process, if you were to go into labor at home, at a game, or when you were out. You had Amanda and your mom on speed dial as the days got closer to your due date.
This morning you woke up to a lot of pain but you assumed it was normal and continued with your morning routine and said goodbye to Leah as she left.
Sat on the couch, you felt a sudden rush of wetness between your legs. You knew it was time. The pain in your lower abdomen increased as the contractions began. You quickly called Amanda and explained your situation as she got into her car and came to your home.
"Love where are you?" she asked as she walked in.
"In here," you say through another painful contraction. She is immediately at your side, holding your hand, and guiding you through it.
Through a breath of pain, you say, "Call Leah."
She helps you to the car and grabs your to-go bags as she gets in contact with Leah and tells her to meet you guys at the hospital. She also thankfully called your parents and informed them, telling her they were on their way.
The drive to the hospital felt forever, in and out of pain, but thankfully you had arrived and got set up in your room and connected to a few devices that measured your heart rate, blood pressure, and contractions.
Back at the Arsenal training grounds, Kelly had pulled Leah aside and told her the news. Leah ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, throwing things in her kit bag as she tried to leave quickly.
"We're having a baby!" she yelled around the changing room. Luckily Lia was levelheaded and threw Leah in her car and drove her to the hospital as all of the girls yelled out good wishes and to send photos when she arrived.
A prayer was answered as Leah walked into the room, another painful jab hitting. She is at your side, clutching your hand, and reciting the breathing techniques she has learned from the classes.
Unlike the movies depict, labor was not quick by any means. Rotating between carefully squatting on a yoga ball and taking laps up and down the hallway, all with Leah by your side, telling you how strong you were. It hurt her to see you in so much pain, so she tried to be as helpful as she could. At times you would snap at her but then the next second you would need her close by. She kneaded your sore skin, paying attention to your lower back as it was in the most pain.
The doctor had come in periodically to check how dilated you were and after about 6 hours in labor, she told you that you were now ready to push. Leah helped you get situated on the bed and helped peal your legs up to begin pushing. Amanda and your mom left the room, you and Leah both wanted to experience just the two of you. By this point, your body was incredibly tired, having no energy to even think.
"Baby are you ready?" she asked with her soft voice.
"I'm tired Lee. I can't do it." you sobbed out to her. Your eyes wanted to close, you wanted to sleep, worn out from pain.
"Baby I know, but you need to push. Baby girl wants to come out." she could tell you were tired, she felt for you, and her heart hurt.
You pushed, mentally and physically, through the pain with Leah by your side, wiping your face with a cold rag every so often and telling you how amazing you were. Each push made progress and baby girl was making her entrance into the world. After what felt like hours of pushing, which was only really roughly about 20 minutes in reality, a loud cry filled the room. Baby girl has arrived. You and Leah both cry out, you had done it. The doctor and nurse together clean her off and she continues to cry, she sure has some strong lungs. You and Leah had told the nurse you wanted skin-to-skin contact when she came so the nurse carefully placed her on your skin, immediately calming down as she heard your voice.
"Hi baby" you sob out. Looking down at the most perfect baby in the world, she had Leah's nose and your ears, she was perfect. Leah was now staring at the two most important people in life. You look up at her and pat down at the side of the bed, wanting her to lie down and you tell her to take off her top to do skin-to-skin contact.
Leah quickly removes her top and lies down as you place Stella on her chest. All Leah can do is silently sob as she stares at your daughter, she can recognize Leah's voice from all the times Leah talked to her before bed.
"Hello Stella"
The nurse had gone through diaper changing and walked you through breastfeeding as you fed Stella for the first time. Wrapped in a pink blanket with a little pink hat on, you had Leah grab both sets of parents. She was weary at first, not wanting to overwhelm you, I mean you quite literally just gave birth and she knew they would all want to hold her, maybe Leah also didn't want to share Stella just yet. But you convinced her you were both okay and welcomed them in.
"She's here" is all Leah says out to the hallway as they make their way in. Leah took her seat back on the bed as you held Stella.
"Oh, she's beautiful" Amanda coos. Your parents and hers check on both you and Leah before you hand your mother her.
"She's perfect you guys." Your mother says as she cries, you can also tell your dad has tears in his eyes but he is stationed at your side, checking you out with his eyes to make sure his baby girl is okay, David and your father each check on their children as Leah talks to her dad about how everything went. Amanda is now holding her as she asks her name.
"Stella Amanda Williamson" Leah says as Amanda cries more. The room was mostly focused on passing her around and taking pictures. Your heart felt full, a very emotional day, but every second was worth it. Stella had begun to cry after a few and when your mom placed her in your arms, she settled down. Most of the day was spent feeding her every few hours and changing her. You also had pumped milk into a bottle so that Leah could feed her too. Stella was absolutely perfect, everything you could imagine and more. You and Leah were parents. A wish come upon a star, a wish come true.
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marvelfanfics1 · 3 months
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Hi, could you do a Rafe x little!Reader where the little is being bratty and keeps telling Rafe no when he asks them to do something, so he ends up putting them in timeout and after that theres just a whole lot of fluff and cuteness please?
I totally get it if you can’t!
Btw, I love your writings! Happy Holidays!
Moody Princess
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Pairing: cg!Rafe x little!reader
Warnings: Age Regression, reader telling rafe 'no', punishment (time-out), fluff at the end
A/n: I'm sorry it took me so long to answer this but I hope you still like it!! <3
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It's not often that you act up, because you know better. When you do it's because something upsets you. Like today, Rafe had been running some errands all week, barely at home, and when he was he had to leave abruptly some time later.
You were grumpy. He said he would be here when you'd wake up from your nap, but he wasn't. You tried to light up your mood by coloring for a while and it did work, but you just missed Rafe.
In the evening you were still occupied in your designed playroom when he came back home, heavy and tired footsteps making their way to your room.
Usually, you would have run in his arms the second he opened the front door but you just didn't feel like it today, angrily filling out a page in your color book when you heard him approach you from behind, not bothering to turn around and greet him.
"Hey, baby." You did melt a little when he kissed the top of your head. "Come, it's time for your bath."
He was about to go and run you said bath, stopping dead in his tracks when he heard you say something he's not used to from you at all.
"No."
His head whipped back to face the back of your head. "Excuse me?"
"'M not finished yet- Hey!" you exclaimed when he took the crayon from your hand, finally turning to face him.
He was looking at you sternly and you knew it wasn't the brightest idea to rile him up more, but he wasn't the only one upset here.
"Wanna try that again?" he asked raising an eyebrow at you.
You just turned your back to him again, grabbed another random crayon, and continued to color.
Rafe chuckled crouching right behind you to whisper in your ear. "I'll give you exactly three seconds to-"
"No." you interrupted him, big mistake.
You're suddenly hoisted up by your armpits and whined when you realized where he's carrying you. Brat corner.
He sat you down on the mat, facing the wall. You pout, you didn't really know what you expected by telling him no but you definitely didn't want to sit here now.
Turning your head you watched him put away your books and crayons. He caught you looking and motioned with his finger for you to face the wall again.
All you wanted was to cuddle with him after not being able to the whole day and now you're sat in the corner after being bratty. All the emotions you felt right now were too much and you started to tear up from frustration, sniffling quietly.
The minutes went by and you didn't even know if Rafe was still in the room with you but didn't dare to turn your head.
"Alright, times up," he said and sighed when you didn't move, shaking your head while sobbing.
You were bad. Rafey doesn't like bad girls. Bad girls don't deserve to be cuddled.
"Baby, come here, please." he tried again and this time you stood up, shuffling your way over to where he was seated on your queen-sized bed, standing between his legs as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.
His hands were resting on your hips, frowning a little at seeing the dried-up tears on your cheeks. "Wanna tell me what got my princess all moody?"
"Miss you..." you sniffled in response, placing your hands on his shoulders to get comfortable on his lap, burying your face in his chest.
"I'm right here," he assured you but you shook your head.
"Were busy all week and...you said you will be here after my nap..." you mumbled and Rafe grimaced, mentally cursing at himself. "M sorry I was bad-"
"No." he pulled you back slightly to look at you. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much I actually neglected you the last few days. I promise it'll not happen again."
There was silence for a moment until you held your pinky up to him.
"Pinky pwomise?"
He smiled at you, lacing his pinky with yours. "Pinky promise," he repeated, planting a kiss on your forehead as you snuggled more into him again. "My good girl..."
He held you like that for some time, rubbing your back occasionally and rocking a little back and forth with you.
When it seemed you calmed down he stood up, carrying you to the bathroom were a warm bubble bath was already waiting for you.
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