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sebastianjameswrites · 2 years

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Nuri spiced sardines in olive oil

“Seriously, are you still watching that?!”, my partner, Haley, asks. “It's been 3 hours and you're still watching canned sardine reviews?!”

“Tin reviews”, I replied,

Pre-Covid, tinned sardines were definitely not an exciting lunch idea to me. In 2018, I thoroughly enjoyed plump, charcoal grilled sardines on the southern coast of Spain, but frankly, chomping down on a dozen shiny, little, cold, oily fish was never an appetising idea. We had plenty of fresh seafood growing up in New Zealand that, I guess tinned fish wasn't something we ate much of at all. We had tinned tuna, but that really is about it. I didn't have my first tuna melt until Haley made me one on one of our early dates. A simple combination which I was weary about at first, quickly became a staple.

Nowadays, as I spend plenty of time online, and some time outside in the real world, it's becoming clearer that more people are grasping the great idea of cheap and easy omega-3 fatty acids -- sardines! There are “Tin of the month” clubs, YouTube channels, TikTok accounts and Discord groups which all revolve directly around the ever growing tinned fish cult (or is it a fad? , maybe a chat for another day). Today, sardines and other tins of preserved seafood are something I keep an eye out for in every little market I walk by. I went to a few Asian supermarkets last week and found plenty of options. Sometimes hidden gems, entire walls of tinned seafood ( 1kg tins of fried dace??, maybe next time, thanks )).

After an unsuccessful hunt for this particular brand around my current home of Vancouver BC, I turned to Dan at Rainbow Tomato Garden. The largest selection of tinned seafood IN THE WORLD should have what I need. A few days of adding tins, removing tins, reading reviews and calculating funds, I eagerly placed an order for a box of mixed tins, including a little stack of NURI brand. This Portugal based company is known to produce excellent tinned sardines, and have a history of tinning a superior product. Their website quotes them to be “the only company that remains faithful to the traditional method throughout its production.” Since 1920 they have been pumping out tins using their homemade secret recipes. A short wait after shipping, a USPS box of goodness was on my doorstep.

After seeing so much talk and hype online about the Nuri Spiced Sardines in Olive Oil i decided to give one a rip for myself.

The brand has simple and recognizable packaging, paper wrapper over a tin. Something about it being my first tin of Nuri made me want to keep the wrapper, such a simple but fond memory. Right at the crack of the tin, I knew these were going to be great. The “someone just opened a tin of dines” smell was there, but extremely subtle. It almost smelt like very light pickle brine. Definitely not an unpleasant smell, which sardines often get such a bad reputation for. Peeling back the lid revealed 3 chunky boys, shimmering in the olive oil. The fish were packed tightly enough to be touching, but were firm to the touch. Firm enough for me to easily grab the middle one out with chopsticks, with little damage. The skin on all the fish was already very damaged, with large parts missing. What little skin there was, was falling off the flesh once removed from the oil. Less or broken skin is not something I'm complaining about. Less skin means less scales! No one likes eating scales.

Half a fish for the first bite; these are damn delicious. A savoury, slightly salty taste and the firm bite to go with. A complete surprise to how subtle the flavour is. Really a delight and far less “fishy” than most people would expect. The cartilage in the spine had completely dissolved into the fish and had become soft, not bringing any noticeable crunch. The trio of sardines came packed with one slice of carrot, one slice of pickle, one little red chilli, part of a dried bay leaf and a clove. A classic combination to bring subtle heat and flavour to the oil and meat. You can see the workers at the Nuri factory hand packing the ingredients in this Youtube Video. Onto the operating table for the second oily boi; I removed the spine and ate that separately (my favourite part). Once the fish was on a plate I could really notice the colours in the meat, varying from white to a dark purple pink. The deeper the colour, the stronger the flavour. The oil kept a nice shine on everything and had a very light olive flavour. It had a light yellow colour that was still clear and glossy even after all this time marinating the fish. I personally love an olive oil tin over a soya oil tin. The carrot and pickle went down next, neither of which tasted like pickle or carrot. The flavour of both must get leached into the oil by the time it gets out to us consumers. The lucky last sardine went down on simple salted saltines with a bit more hot sauce. Adding the crackers to the table obviously makes for more texture, but it also creates more of a vessel for the extra hot sauce I was drizzling on top. I haven't been able to find a bottle of the famous Salsa Espinaler locally yet, which I have read is perfect on all fish, but I have a few more artisanal stores to check out before I resort to buying online. The heat was subtle, to put it subtly. One little chilli adds little to no mouth buzz sensation. The Nuri Extra spiced uses 3 chillies per tin, so I will have to test that tin to see if they have some real spice and mouth feel.

Two saltines and three fish. Not a meal I used to go out of my way to have, but today was a healthy and highly enjoyable lunch. These sardines could easily be broken up and put on top of a salad, used as a “sardine melt” or lightly floured and then fried in their own oil. My next tin of Nuri spiced, i'm going to use this beer batter recipe: Beer Battered ‘Dines.

When a store in my hometown starts to stock Nuri brand, I will be first in line ready to pick up a stack of tins. I would love to have the spiced sardines in olive oil as my “go to tin”, I mean, who wouldn't? I recommend these to any non-sardine eater, someone who is looking to try their first tin, or to impress someone on a first date! The subtleness would be an ideal way to ease someone into the flavour rather than starting them off with Oskars Surstromming. Do yourself a favour, find a local supplier of Nuri, pick up a tin and give it a crack!

Tin Rating - 4/5

#tinned fish #sardines #nuri #snack #fish #cannedfood #portugal #canada

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toads-treasures · 2 months

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HOME AND ADVENTURE for Leda!!

I have tried so hard to be concise about this and I just can't. But I have pared it down as much as I could lol

HOME: Where was your OC born? What was their first home? Do they still live there? If not, why not? How do they feel looking back on it?

Leda was born in Baldur’s Gate, in her family’s home in the Upper City, but that wasn’t really her first home. Shortly after her birth she was moved to her family’s estate, Crescent Lake Manor, in the countryside near Amphail, just south of Waterdeep. She doesn’t live there anymore, and hasn’t since she was eighteen, due to Tragic Reasons that I maybe still haven’t completely ironed out yet.

The tldr version of the story is Leda is a tiefling, the rest of her family, parents and one sister, are not. The reasoning behind this is what keeps turning into a very long story so I have to save it for another day lol.

Crescent Lake Manor is not nearly as grand as the name suggests. It's old, drafty and almost painfully austere. Made of the mottled grey and black granite the Coulbrandt's are known for, it looks more like a tombstone than a house. The stairs creak and groan, almost all the doors on the second floor don't close properly anymore, and the window at the end of the hall overlooking the lake is jammed shut and no one had been able to get it open within living memory. It's also small, especially compared to the other manses in the area. Two floors, five bedrooms. What makes it grand are the grounds, including the lake that gave the house its name.

More than anything, Leda tries NOT to think back on it. She was usually left there, alone, apart from the small staff. But it was also her home, the only one she’d ever really known and she loved it, despite it all. She loved the grounds, especially the wilder areas on the fringes of the property, and the lake, with the tiny boat house that always smelled like lantern oil and fish. She loved her bedroom that she painted and decorated within an inch of its life. The staff were always kind to her. She loved hiding little paintings in places she was sure no one would ever find. Under rugs, behind portraits, on the underside of furniture. She's left her mark in almost every inch of that house, from childish stick figures to detailed murals of a forest with a unicorn, all hidden. It was her entire world, and even though she resented it at times, she wishes she could go back, if only to see it again. And to maybe grab some of her books she left behind, she’s never been able to find another copy The Warlock’s Promise.

ADVENTURE: What was your OC's first adventure? Is it something they'd call an adventure? How did they feel about it?

Leda tried her hand at adventuring at the ripe old age of thirteen. She was certain she could do it, she’d read plenty of adventures, she sorta had a grasp on magic at that point. She could set stuff on fire at least and that had to count for something. So she spent a few weeks smuggling food and “rations” into her room, and when she had a decent stockpile she packed her bags and ran away. Things were going pretty great, she camped for a night or two, had a grand old time running around in the forests near her home, up until she got on the wrong side of a wild boar, ended up with a pretty nasty cut on her leg and stuck in a tree. She managed to scare the boar off, but things were not looking great because she also realized she had no idea where she was. Thankfully, a hunter had been tracking the boar and he helped her to the nearest town, took her to a Temple of Ilmater. They patched her up and sent a message to her parents, letting them know where she was. But it wasn’t her parents who showed up to collect her, it was the groundskeeper.

Mostly she felt embarrassed, and it was also kind of the beginning of her realizing that she really didn’t have any firm place in the world. She didn’t belong with her parents, they wouldn’t even be seen in public with her. She didn’t seem particularly suited for adventuring either, and found she liked reading them better than participating in them herself. So it was kind of the beginning of the end for her. The end of feeling at home, anywhere in the world.

#thank you for the ask!!! It has been haunting me lol #I can't be brief its the enlgish major in me #also i hope this makes sense I'm half asleep and I just really wanna post it i've been working on it for days #oc: leda

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stouthyllested · 2 years

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Publications South African Nationwide Bioinformatics Institute

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lavendersb · 4 years

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Din Djarin x reader

Summary: Din wants to give you the universe. Making you see stars seems like a good place to start.

Warnings: Smut, this is str8 up sin, fingering, soft!dom Din, service!dom Din, overstimulation, so much praise, i wrote this at 3am so if this is hardly literate im so sorry :)

@maybege i have you to blame for encouraging my sinful behaviour

Din doesn’t know how he survived before you.

Of coursed he coped, he hadn’t become the best bounty hunter in the parsec without a certain level of diligence. His structured Mandalorian upbringing had taught him the importance of being capable and organized, of always being one step ahead.

But the child had brought with him its own unique set of challenges. Din could deal with the bounty hunters and imperial forces, they where nothing new to him. The joys of parenthood however had taken some getting used to.

He was an angel most of the time. Din could spend hours with the little womp rat and not encounter the slightest hitch, but when the fancy struck him, the child could turn into a little terror of angry gargles and twitching ears. The fact that he could also throw items around the crest with his strange magic powers didn’t make these tantrums any easier for Din to handle.

That’s when you had arrived. Offering your services as caretaker and claiming to be a half -decent mechanic as well, Din had hired you almost instantly. The child was almost as taken with you as he was, and from that moment on, Din never looked back.

He learns quickly that you had been very modest about your skills. Not only where you capable of handling whatever the child threw your way, you could also help with just about any problem the crest came up with. Din also learns that you’re not bad in a fight, and on the odd occasion he invites you out on a hunt with him. You work together like a well-oiled machine, united by a common goal of protecting the child. Protecting each other.

Perhaps it was your caring and capable nature that drew Din closer to you than he ever expected he would. Regardless of what it had been, Din has never felt as happy as when he comes home to see the love of his life waiting for him with his strange little son.

This is where his mind has wondered as he trudges through the swampy mud back to his ship. The bounty was on planet thankfully, so Din never had to worry about bringing the quarry near to his safe haven. The safe haven in question, the metallic body of the razor crest, peeks out at him through the trees and Din’s feet just can’t move fast enough.

Din lowers the ramp, and as he reaches the warmly lit interior of the hull he can’t help but pause a moment in shock.

The hull when Din had left it was a state. On the previous planet you had returned to the crest just as a team of Jawas had started to tear it apart. Thankfully Din had managed to scare them off before they could cause any real damage, but a fair few interior wall panels had already been unscrewed and tossed aside. This morning Din had left the hull in that same state. Now it was as if there had never been any damage at all.

But there, in the centre of the hull is the thing that makes Din’s heart clench beneath the beskar. You’ve set a small metal container on the ground, filled it with some warm water which gently steams, and placed the little green child inside for a bath. He watches where you kneel beside the tub, grinning at the child as he holds one of your fingers in one tiny hand, and splashes the water with the other.

“Hi,” you say through a slight laugh, snapping Din out of his reverent staring “we’re almost done here”

Din walks forward, coming to stand beside you and bending to press his forehead to yours softly.

“Did you fix the ship?” he asks softly, though he knows the answer.

“Yes,” you confirm, pulling away from him reluctantly. The child, now wholly interested in the return of his father, reaches out to Din and begins to babble uncontrollably.

“We’ve had a busy day, haven’t we? But you’ve been such a good helper,” You say to the child, and Din watches you fish the wriggling child out of his bath and wrap him up in a soft towel. He notes that the task of fixing the crest must have taken almost all of the day, and having to keep the child entertained at the same time wouldn’t have made it easy for you.

“Mesh’la, have you eaten today?”

Din takes your silence as an answer and his happiness falters just a little. Of course you would prioritise your task and the child before yourself. Sometimes he wonders how you would survive without him.

“I wanted to wait” you reassure him weakly “enjoy my break when the work is done”

“I’ll take him from here, you should rest” Din says, leaving no room for argument.

He takes the child from you, now dressed in a freshly cleaned robe (another task you’ve completed that he wants to thank you for). Din sees a moment of doubt pass over your face as you try to argue with him, but the feeling of tiredness creeping into your bones wins you over. With an acknowledging smile, you kiss the child on the head and disappear towards the nearest bunk.

Din takes care of the last few jobs of the day, content in the knowledge that his love is resting nearby. He makes the jump to hyperspace first, cradling the child in his arms. The little bundle is still warm from the bath, and Din watches his big glossy eyes blink slowly at him, trying to savour the last moment seeing his Buir’s shiny helmet before he falls asleep.

Once the child is safely asleep in his cot, Din goes to fish through his bag, producing one of the fresh bread rolls and a selection of berry’s he bought before he returned. He plates them with the last of the soup that’s left, and once he’s finished his own portion and secured his helmet back in place, he calls out to you to join him.

Woozy and half asleep, Din watches fondly as you float towards the little kitchen set-up. The sleep in your eyes is replaced with excitement as you catch a glimpse of the fresh food on the table.

“Din,” you breathe “you shouldn’t have”

“It’s the least I can do for everything you’ve done today”

Din watches as you happily devour the food. He listens intently as you tell him all of the things you and the child got up to that day. How long it took to fix the panels, how the two of you played out in the muddy swamp for a while before you brought the child in for a well needed bath. This domesticity is something so new to him, but you make it feel easy. Just like you made it easy for him to fall in love with you. He would give you the galaxy, Din thinks, if only he knew where to start.

When the food is finished, Din clears the plates away but there’s a feeling deep down in his soul that he can do more for you. There’s still something else he can provide. As he sees you walk away towards the refresher, he knows he must act fast.

Din crowds you against the wall, pressing you against the panels you’ve just diligently fixed. A hand that rests at the back of your head prevents you from hurting your skull, and Din lets his fingers wind through the strands beneath them. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at his visor, surprised by his sudden movements and hopeful, Din can tell, that he might be about to pull unspeakable pleasures from you.

“Have I taken care of you? He asks quietly.

“Y-yes”

“No,” Din chastises “I haven’t. Not yet. Tell me what you need”

Your lips flutter as the words Din seeks dance around your mouth. He encourages your response by fisting your hair a little harder, not to be cruel, but to ease you into his instruction.

“You, Din” he finally hears you gasp “I need you”

Pride swells in him at your words, and he moves the hand in your hair to wrap around the small of your back and fasten on your waist, pulling you close to him whilst he presses you to the wall.

“Then you’ll have me”

Din uses his free hand to pull at the obstructing fabric that keeps him from the apex of your thighs. Softly, but without preamble his hand dips to your heat and makes a gentle swipe through your folds, groaning when he finds it warm and soft and so very wet already.

His fingers find your clit and with tiny, firm little circles he plays with it to his hearts content. Din feels you tremble and sag against him, enjoying how accepting you become to his touch.

“My sweet girl,” Din breathes, and it’s said so reverently it makes you tremble and mewl just that bit more.

“My sweet girl, you’ve worked so hard today” The movements against your clit slow and you whine in complaint. Din chuckles and shushes you “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whine desperately, moving to grip the arm that reaches between your legs, hoping to encourage it to move again.

Din smiles beneath his helmet, satisfied with your compliance as he returns to your clit with vigour, plucking from you tiny gasps that draw his hungry eyes to the way your pretty chest rises and falls.

“Then cum mesh’la. Come so I can fuck your pretty cunt with my fingers”

And oh how that filthy promise pushes you off the edge. He feels you stiffen in his arms and pulls you closer to him until you feel crushed by his solid presence. You can hardly register it though, too lost in the waves of pleasure that don’t seem to ease at all. Din doesn’t stop playing with your clit until your pretty moans turn to gasps and pleas to stop.

He doesn’t remove his hand from you, simply sliding his fingers down to trace that little fluttering hole he loves so dearly. He watches your face the whole time, enjoying how slack it goes when the first finger makes a teasing press against you.

“Pretty girl you take such good care of us, but you neglect yourself” he teasingly scolds, pressing into you a little further with his finger and watching you keen at his tone.

“Would you like to be taken care of? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, Din, yes” you nod frantically, squirming in his firm grasp.

He squeezes your hip in warning, before sliding his finger deep inside you. Both of you groan at the feeling of your soft heat welcoming his finger. He starts to pump into you, his pace direct and precise, hitting against that soft spongy spot with each push. Din wanted to give you the galaxy, making you see stars seemed like a good place to start.

“I knew from the first minute I saw you that you’d be so warm and soft everywhere” Din says as you cry out for him “and I was right, wasn’t I mesh’la? Your cunt might be the warmest, softest thing in the whole galaxy”

As he adds another finger, Din swears he’s never felt more whole then when he’s breaking you apart like this. Letting you be tender and vulnerable. You break apart for him so well he muses.

“Won’t you cum for me?” he says, and stars you’ve never wanted to come so bad in all your life. Not just because you think you might explode at the way his fingers are aiming for that spot that makes you cry out in pleasure, but also because you want- no need him to know how much you love him. How grateful you are that he treats you so well.

When you do cum its electric. You reach for Din’s pauldron for support, gripping the metal as you rock against his hand. He feels you soak his palm and groans, shamelessly grinding himself against whatever part if you he can.

He doesn’t pull his fingers from you, instead he massages your walls gently watching you twitch when he rubs that special place inside you. He waits until you meet his eye through the visor, expectantly waiting for him to withdraw his fingers.

Instead he presses his thumb back against your thoroughly abused clit and holds you tighter as you give a startled jolt against him.

“Din,” you whine, and he smirks at how wrecked and helpless you sound “I can’t-“

“You can” he insists, picking up the pace of the fingers inside you “You’ll cum again because I’m telling you to. Because I’m taking care of you, right?”

You can barely nod in response, your body to busy trying to cope with the overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. Din gazes at your face, taken by the way your brows pinch and fat tears fill your waterline and weigh down your eyelashes.

The sight of you has him desperate, and he removes the hand from around your waist, using his torso to pin you to the wall so you don’t collapse. He tugs the cowl away from his neck to expose the tanned skin of his neck. You don’t need his instruction to know what to do next, and with what little energy left in your body, you lean forward to press messy, fluttering kisses to the skin over his pulse.

Din grunts, truly blissed out by the feeling of you on him doubles his assault on your sensitive heat. He barely hears your gasping warning before he feels you come utterly undone against him. Your cunt squeezes his fingers so tightly, and he makes sure to tell you that, though he’s not sure you can hear him. Your face is still pressed against his neck, breathing against him, and he swears he feels a wet tear drop against his skin.

“I love you, sweet girl” he says, pulling his fingers from you softly.

The hum that comes from your heavy, satisfied, and sleepy body tells him he’s done his job well. He lets himself feel proud. Upstairs, his child sleeps soundly in his crib. Well protected and well loved. Here, in his arms, lays his love. Soon she’ll be asleep in their shared bed, and Din will find himself wondering how he was blessed with such a wonderful and loving partner.

#sdklmwfoncamk #anyway can yall tell im h*rny #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #my writing #smut #star wars #star wars x reader

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yeselbeethings · 4 years

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konoha’s sublime green beast

10 relationship headcanons for Might Guy

pairing: might guy x reader

a/n: similar vibe to the last relationship headcanons - any suggestions for who to do next would be appreciated.

synopsis: a few tender moments, scenes from your relationship with Guy

warnings: nsfw content for the last few: general sex, fingering, oral.. the standard

The first time you meet Might Guy, you are stunned to silence. He sits with you and the other jōnin at the local bar and shares stories and you are completely hooked. Everything about him entrances you; his vibrancy, the way he speaks, the jumpsuit, the body, the size of his hands... he's so bright and youthful? Anko is the first to spot you staring, and when she drags you to help her at the bar with drinks, she says "oh yeah, Guy is a bit weird, we should have warned you", and in your tipsy state you remember replying "I dunno, he seems kind of cool?" You spend the rest of the night trying to catch his eye and striking up conversations. A few weeks later, he asks you on your first date, and your shoulders shake with laughter when you accept and he cheers something about youth.

Guy goes through his signature jumpsuits at an alarming pace. Sometimes they rip straight through the middle of the crotch, other times they wear through at the thighs, more often than not they simply succumb to the general wear and tear of being a ninja. You take lurid green jumpsuits that develop rips on the arms from being snagged on trees, and thus are no use to Guy anymore, and repurpose them. You cut the top section off and cut the leg just above the knees and wear them around the house with oversized t-shirts and sweatshirts. The upcycled shorts become part of your casual day off outfit, and you take to wearing them when you need to run errands around the village. It’s only right to carry on the Might family tradition in your own way.

Guy loves poetry, so much so it has seeped into his general way of speaking - most people just think it’s his odd turn of phrase, but you know it’s from years and years of devouring any poetry he can get his hands on - especially after Duy’s death. Your tiny shared apartment is filled with poetry books, from every village and spanning centuries. Guy needs reading glasses and has done since his teen years - he can read mission scrolls etc. with little trouble but if he needs or wants to read for more than a few minutes he takes out the gold-rimmed round glasses that live in a basket full of odd bits and pieces that don’t have a true home in the apartment and slips them on. He pushes his hair from his forehead slightly and lies down on the floor to settle into the latest thing he’s picked to read. He keeps a small battered red leather-bound book on his nightstand; it’s a second-hand copy of a collection of Warring States era poetry. Guy scribbles in the margins of all his books, but this one is littered with annotations and underlinings. On rainy nights, while you rest your head on his broad bare chest, Guy will hold you close and read a poem or two from this book to you. Uncharacteristically quiet, measured, and serious, his voice is like honey. When he goes away on long missions, you’ll often find a note resting on top of the book with a page number and line number written on it, you know to save peaking at that passage for a particularly hard moment, when you wish his gentle voice and inspiring words were there to comfort you.

One of the major challenges of being in a relationship with Might Guy is the sheer volume of food he consumes. His strict training regime and huge energy output mean that Guy eats up to 14 meals a day; all carefully nutritionally balanced. So much of both of your free time is dedicated to bulk cooking, preparing bento boxes, dehydrating fruit and vegetables, boiling eggs, steaming fish... Guy appreciates every second you put into helping him with his training and diet. Whenever you both have a free day in the village he hand writes you a note and leaves it in the kitchen with a cup of fresh coffee resting on top inviting you to dinner. Guy always chooses the most comfortable places, with home-style food and free-flowing sake and beers. He insists you order anything and everything you want, reminding you to leave room for dessert. He holds your hand over sticky tables, wearing a T-shirt and standard-issue jōnin trousers, smiling at you widely as you share dumplings and scallion pancakes dripping with black vinegar and chili oil. When you leave the restaurant, completely full, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you deeply, a large tanned hand on the back of your head and his other pulling you into him by the small of your back. You don’t know what makes you feel drunker; the sake, the food, or the depth of his kiss.

After your first few dates, you promised to cook for Guy at your apartment. Already knowing his love of curry, you silently vowed to yourself that you would wean him off that S&B curry roux blocks he always seemed to be purchasing when you ran into him in the village. The first time you cooked him a curry, he leant his hip against your kitchen cabinet, sipping a jasmine tea, and with rapt attention listened to you explain which different spices you'd be using for the curry paste. Guy would explain the medicinal uses for each one as you measured them out, all of them known to him already due to his extensive herbal medicine knowledge. This is the moment you knew that you'd fallen in love, listening to Guy explain to you that to activate the medicinal properties of turmeric, you'd need some fresh black pepper, with Guy showing you the best time to add garlic to preserve the allicin to ward off colds. While he explained to you all the properties, you told him what would work together and what wouldn't, to ensure that the finished curry paste would actually taste delicious and not just be a mash of flavours and chili. When your relationship deepened and you eventually came to share an apartment, a weekly curry night for Team 10 emerged, with Neji, Tenten and Lee sat around your large dining table, eating whatever curry you'd made that week. You sit there, smiling, as Guy explains how each component in the curry will help them become even more splendid shinobi.

At some point, you acquired a small turtle-shaped chalkboard, that hangs from a red ribbon on the handle of one of the kitchen cabinets. In the back of your mind, you think it was originally for reminders, but somewhere along the way, it got commandeered to record the results of Kakashi and Guy's challenges. You remember searching the rubble after Pain's attack to find it, sifting through tattered pages and broken ceramics in the vague hopes that it would be intact enough to save.

It is Hana Inuzuka who holds you tight around the stomach when you see the sky fill red during the 4th Shinobi War. Years ago, Guy had told you that he believed the time would come when he would eventually open the eight gate and that he would become Konoha’s red beast. he told you what would happen, from what he had gathered from the limited research on the topic. That he would burn hot as the sun and his body would disintegrate and he would fill the atmosphere as hot ash. You had sat in stunned silence at the man’s resolve and acceptance. Hana’s firm grip was suffocating around your stomach, and you could feel the eyes of members of the allied forces staring at you as you struggled, screaming. When the Infinite Tsukuyomi takes hold of you, you dream of chubby babies wearing green with pitch-black hair and iron grips, and a sweet uncle with white eyes and flowing clothes.

After the war and Guy’s discharge from the hospital, you find yourselves lost in your relationship. Guy becomes a shadow of himself, constantly encouraging you to leave, to let him wallow in peace, and for a brief few moments, you let yourself think that you could. The strain is unbearable at times, Guy considering himself unable to be your partner and you unable to reach the lightest parts of him. It is the 6th Hokage, Kakashi Hatake’s arrival on your doorstep, a new turtle chalkboard in hand that begins to turn the tide of Guy’s grief, and the pain in your relationship. Each week, Kakashi arrives for tea, and each week he issues a new challenge. It takes 6 months until Guy caves and agrees to go along with the rock paper scissors battle. He wins, 50-47. You mark the turtle chalkboard. Guy: 1, Lord 6th: 0. It hangs in your bedroom, and slowly the board becomes a mottled grey, with old chalk stains and the ghost of numbers. Guy begins training with Rock Lee again. He begins reading poetry again. His appetite climbs and climbs, and in the darkness of the night, he holds your hands and tells you he’s so so grateful you stayed - you are too.

Guy loves giving you head. He licks short wide tongued across your clit repeatedly and waits to hear your breath hitch and feel your hips twitching before he switches his tactic, enveloping your whole clit into his mouth and humming deeply as he licks and sucks, his bottom jaw rhythmically moving until your moans become deeper and longer, his hands pressing your hips into the bed. He loves it when you card your hands through his hair and grind into him. Sometimes he lets you cum like this, hips rising to meet his mouth and your fingers grasping at the sheets crying out his name, other times he edges you by drawing you closer and closer to your climax and allowing two fingers to slowly stretch you out in time with the licks of his tongue. He stops when you’re beginning to feel the pleasurable heat build and build and throws your legs up, moving quickly and lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you before your pleasure completely dissipates. He fucks you, giving himself a moment of relief before stopping to continue where he had stopped moments before, head between your legs and eyes looking up at you, dark and heavy, watching your chest brace and your muscles tense, pushing you over the edge in a few minutes, switching back to being inside you before the waves of pleasure have subsided so he can feel the clenching of your muscles around him and bring you quickly over the edge for a second time.

Even within your relationship, Guy has set himself personal challenges. When he is thrusting into you, or his fingers are deep inside you while his thumb rubs circles over your clit and your mouth hangs open, gasping and your hair is sticking to your face as you groan underneath him, overstimulated and hazy, he leans down and whispers into your ear - one more, okay? give me one more.

#might guy #maito gai #might guy x reader #maito gai x reader #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto #reader insert #guy sensei #guy sensei x reader

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kell-be-belle · 3 years

Text

Ribbon of Sunlight

@sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo

Prompt: Duvet Day/Spending the Day In Bed

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier

Rating: General

Content Warnings: None

Summary: While wintering in Kaer Morhen, Jaskier manages to convince Geralt to spend the day in bed. Much tenderness ensues.

Ao3

Geralt’s lashes fluttered against his cheeks, a contented hum worming its way up from his throat and out between his parted lips. He was beginning to rouse, but sleep still held him in its tenuous grasp, leaving him drifting aimlessly in the ether between. He gradually becomes aware of the warmth nestled beside him; of the weight spread across the expanse of his chest. The sensation of it all teeters precariously between just enough and too much. He cannot yet be bothered enough to decide on which direction it leans.

Geralt had drawn the curtains last night, but apparently not with enough care. They remained parted just enough that a slim ribbon of sunlight stretches across his bed and splits him in twain. It glows red and molten behind his eyelids. Sleep finally relinquishes its hold, content to release Geralt to the day until the night returned once again. He rises to the surface of his consciousness like emerging from depths of a pond. The world swims before him as he opens his eyes, pupils contracting against the glimmer of the sun. For a moment, he feels disoriented by the juxtaposition of the dawning day and the lingering night. Panic flares like a spark in his chest in danger of catching alight.

And then he is brought back, grounded by the weight over his chest.

Jaskier’s deep, heated breaths snuffle into the hollow of Geralt’s collarbone. His auburn lashes quiver against Geralt’s skin with all the substance of butterfly wings. He has slotted himself into Geralt’s side, undoubtedly huddling into his peternatual heat in the cold of the tower room Geralt calls his own. Jaskier has an arm flung carelessly across his chest; has one leg bent up and hooked over the witcher’s thigh. Jaskier sleeps with all the banality of a child and it makes Geralt’s heart swell.

Sleep still seemed to hold Jaskier firm and Geralt takes the opportunity to bask in the moment of stillness. He presses his nose into the crown of Jaskier’s mousy head. Jaskier smells of the almond oil he had rubbed into his hands the night before. Just as Geralt oiled his sword, Jaskier treated his hands with oils and scrubs and massage. They were the tools of his trade, afterall. Geralt even helped from time to time, carefully stretching his lithe fingers and kneading his palms. He had done so that night while the two of them lay basking in the tender afterglow of their love making. Geralt reached up and took Jaskier’s hand within his own. He pressed his nose into the curve of his palm and a kiss to the place where Jaskier’s pulse fluttered under the thin skin of his wrist.

Jaskier began to stir then, mewling softly as he nuzzled deeper into the pit of Geralt’s clavicle. Geralt continued to rouse him with kisses. He kissed Jaskier’s fingertips and knuckles, each fold of his palm and the tendons of his wrist. Jaskier was waking in earnest now. The shape of his smile pressed against Geralt’s skin. “Oh…” He hummed in bliss. “I must say, this is probably amongst my most pleasant awakenings.” His voice was husky with sleep and it made Geralt chuckle. “You do spoil me so, dear heart. I am afraid I shall not wake again if it is not to this kind of tenderness.”

“Then I shall tell the bandits that next invade our camp to hold off on robbing us so that I can kiss you awake.” Geralt quipped, his smile wry.

Jaskier retaliated with a little nip to Geralt’s collar and it made a spike of pleasure jolt down his spine. “Now, now, don’t be a brat.” Jaskier breathed deeply, his chest expanding with the volume of his robust lungs. He released it in a hum of random melody. “What time is it? I feel as though I’ve been asleep for at least a decade.”

Geralt’s eyes flickered to light spilling between the curtains. “Judging from the angle, it is well past dawn. Vesemir will have my head for missing morning training.”

“I don’t think he should mind too much.” Jaskier replied. His fingers had started drumming in an aimless rhythm against Geralt’s chest. Ever a man in motion. Even in sleep Jaskier never truly settled, but as he awakened further Geralt could feel his energy beginning to thrum just under the surface of his skin.

Geralt cocked a brow, “Have you met Vesemir? I once forgot to bring my empty dinner plate into the kitchen and he made me run laps around the keep.”

Jaskier snorted a laugh, “Yeah, alright, I suppose the old wolf may have punishment in store for you, but this is worth it, right?” Geralt traced his fingers over Jaskier’s back, circled around the knob of each vertebrae and the sharp cut of his shoulder blade. He shivered pleasantly in Geralt’s arms. Vesemir could punish Geralt to repair the entire Eastern curtain wall with nothing, but an ice pick and still he would choose to lay here in this morning bliss.

“Yes.” He hummed, breathing in the bittersweet scent of his love. Savoring the press of his supple skin against the jagged edges of his many scars. “Worth it.”

Jaskier turned his head and rested his chin upon Geralt’s chest, looking up at him beneath the curve of his lashes. They shone translucent and honeyed in the sunlight. Geralt is struck by the sight of him. How many mornings had they awoken side by side and still Geralt feels like every time he looks upon his love anew. The dimples in Jaskier’s cheek deepen, preceding the smile that soon spreads over his lips.

Geralt’s life had been long. Geralt’s life had been hard. For decades life had been a yoke about his neck and he was only sloughing through it. The next town. The next contract. The next wound. The next glare. With Jaskier in his arms all of that melted away like frost beneath the first ray of spring sun. With that glow in his eyes and that smile on his lips all of it darkened into a dream, faded to an impression, but not a memory. With Jaskier, every day dawned as a gift and it was one Geralt felt blessed to receive.

There were not enough words in Geralt’s underused tongue that could ever articulate the way he felt about Jaskier, but fortunately there was no need for them. Where his words lacked there was still feeling. It swelled in the space between them, filled the breadth of their bed, the space of the room, the expanse of the keep. It reached as far as the shores of places they had never been and would likely never see. It could stretch across the latitude of the world itself and reach them once more here in this bed tucked into the shape of each other.

They kissed languidly in the ribbon of sunlight that peeked between the curtains.

Jaskier settled onto Geralt’s chest once more, breathing deeply, “You know, if you’re going to piss off Vesemir, you may as well go all out. I am feeling rather comfortable and very disinclined to move as I am sure you are, too. What say you? Shall we spend our day here?”

Geralt chuckled, “We’ll have to leave eventually, Jaskier. You get cranky when you haven’t eaten.” Jaskier nipped his collar once more in retaliation. “Do that again and I’ll have to show you how to behave.” He growls against the shell of Jaskier’s ear, fingers tightening around the meat of his thigh.

“Oh, you tempt me so, dear heart.” He laughs breathily, wrapping his leg tighter around Geralt’s hips. “I will heartily endure your punishment, but after we have broken our fast.” Jaskier suddenly peels back the quilt and Geralt nearly whines at the loss of his weight and warmth. The swift footed shuffle the fully nude Jaskier makes to the door is quite comical and Geralt snorts at the sight of him. Jaskier waves him off as he retrieves a basket that is sitting on the floor just inside the threshold. He continues his shuffle back to the bed and dives back under the covers. Geralt folds them quickly around him before the chill of the air can sink in.

Triumphantly, Jaskier cradles the basket in his lap, pulling up the thatched lid and presenting the contents to Geralt. It is stuffed full of food. Hard cheese and cured links of sausage. A thick loaf of black bread and small pots of honey, jam, and butter. Dried apricots and dates and two bottles of mead. Geralt turns to Jaskier with his brow arched and the bard smiles blithely; batting his honeyed lashes innocently. Geralt rolls his eyes, but fishes out a date and pops it whole into his mouth. Jaskier beams and does the same.

The two of them settle once more into the shape of each other. They break fast with hushed laughter and shared bites and tender kisses. It is as splendid and incandescent as the ribbon of sunlight that peeks between the curtains and wraps them together.

#the witcher #geralt x jaskier #Geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo #prompt fill #fanfiction #I am finally getting into the groove of things and it feels so good #no beta read

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

Text

Pasta Sauce - Klaus Hargreeves

You knew when you fell for Klaus that you were in it for the long haul. What you didn’t know was just how terrible of a cook Klaus was. One night, you try to remedy that.

“Is it supposed to be screaming?”

“What?”

“The water, is it supposed to be screaming?” A sharp streak of panic rushes through you and you darted over to the stove where Klaus stood. His curious and concerned green eyes were focused on the pot of boiling water in front of him. Bubbles popped, splashed up after the steam and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not screaming,” you sigh and turn the knob to lower the heat. “It’s boiling. It’s ready.” “Oh.” You shook your head and nodded your head towards the piece of paper on the countertop. “Hand me that, please.” Klaus handed you the recipe and you busied yourself with rereading the steps. “Once the water comes to a boil, pour in the rigatoni and cook for eight minutes. Stir every so often so the pasta doesn’t stick.” “What the fuck does a rigatoni look like?” Klaus asked. His eyes scoured the counter near the stove with furrowed brows. You bit back a laugh and pointed to the package of pasta that came with the recipe set. “It’s noodles?” “Pasta, yes,” you smiled at him, “did you not see the picture?” You flipped the recipe page over and held it out to him. His confused expression morphed into one of disbelief and he stole the paper from your grasp. “It’s supposed to look like this?!” He points at the picture showing the dish. You had thought signing up for a free trial, delivered-but-make-at-home food service would cut the drama out of cooking with Klaus. So far, it had done the opposite. “Not exactly like that but…” Klaus squinted his eyes at you, “something like that.” Klaus grumbled something under his breath and you snatched the recipe from his hands. “I don’t understand why we can’t order out…” “Klaus, we talked about it.” He rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up on the counter. His long legs swung in the air, his bare feet nearly skirting against the floor. “I know, I know. It’s ‘too expensive’ and ‘not healthy’.” As he spoke, he scrunched his fingers for air-quotations to mock what you had told him. You raised a brow at him and, noticing your cold stare, Klaus let his hands fall to his sides. “It’s so easy though.” You hummed gently as you turned back to the stove and poured the uncooked pasta into the water. “Sounds like you’re just lazy.” “I am,” Klaus said dryly, “you’re just figuring this out now?” You heard his feet slap against the floor as he landed. Your body tensed, waiting for Klaus to tickle you or try to scare you; but what surprised you was his wiry arms wrapping around your waist. “I guess I just had faith you were putting on a show,” you joked. Klaus hummed softly in reply and you could feel the vibrations in his chest against your back. You wanted to turn away from the stove and just melt into Klaus’ warmth. Maybe even order a pizza? No, you had to stay strong and firm. To show yourself you were steadfast, you set a timer for the pasta. “I do like putting on shows for you,” Klaus whispered lowly in your ear. His embrace around your middle tightened and you felt your resolve waver, only until a wicked idea entered your mind. You turned in his arms so that you faced him. There was a mischievous glimmer in Klaus’ green eyes ad you grinned at him. Your hands lifted and cupped his jaw, ready to pull him in for a kiss. “Then why don’t you,” you leaned closer, just so that when you spoke, your lips brushed against Klaus’. “Put on a show for me now?” “Really? Now?” Klaus raised a brow and let his arms around you fall. His hands found your hips and a smile spread along with his features. You nodded in response and Klaus’ smile grew larger as he lifted a hand. “What kind of-” “This one!” You slapped the wooden spoon you had been stirring into his palm before he could reach your face. “Happy stirring!” You slid away from the stove and darted over to the far end of the counter. Klaus was too busy staring at where you had been to look over at you. A laugh slipped past your lips when he finally turned to face you. His smile was gone, replaced by a knowing smirk. “You’ll pay for that,” he teased threateningly. You grinned and shook your head. “No, I won’t. I gave you the easy job.” “Oh yeah?” “Yup,” you gestured towards the counter that was covered in a variety of lingering ingredients. “I have to make the pasta sauce.” You waited for Klaus to speak up, tease you further, but, instead, he went to mindlessly stirring the pot of cooking noodles. For a moment, you thought he was joking. You waited for him to turn and walk off to sulk in your shared room; but he didn’t. With a small sound of shock, you turned to busy yourself with chopping the vegetables. The process went quickly in the quiet. In fact, it was the calmest you had ever seen Klaus; besides when you were bed. Every so often, you heard the tell-tale ‘swish’ of the spoon in the water as you finished chopping. You glance over at him and smiled. If the future looked like this, with the easy quiet and Klaus, would felt you could be happy forever. “How’s it going?” You asked as you brought the vegetables over to the stove. “Slow,” Klaus replied without missing a beat. You smiled as you set a saucepan on the stove and set the flame on underneath it.

“Have you tested one of the noodles?” Klaus turned his eyes to you with a wary glance. “You can do that?” “You should,” you explained. You took the wooden spoon from him and fished a pasta spiral out of the pot. “Blow on it before you eat it.” Klaus let out a smug chuckle and you rolled your eyes. “What, it’s what-” “Just eat it, Klaus.” Before he could giggle like a school-girl, you pushed the spoon to his face. He took the bite and cringed. “What is it?” “Is it supposed to be crunchy?” You wanted his jaw tense as he bit down and the sound made you cringe too. “It needs a bit longer then.” You gave him the spoon back with a smile. “Get back to stirring.” Klaus gave you a grimace. “Anything for you,” he teased.

“Thank you, babe.” You played along with a smile as Klaus went back to the pasta. Quiet settled over the two of you once more. After pouring a tablespoon or more in the saucepan, you added the vegetables you chopped. Each cubed tomato and shreds of green onion sizzled in the hot oil. Before you could even begin to stir the base of the sauce, Klaus looked over in the pan with an almost child-like curiosity. “Wanna switch?” “What?” “Switch stirring positions,” Klaus clarified, “do you want to switch?” “Are you asking for a raise?” Your teasing made Klaus grin, but it wasn’t the type of grin you were expecting. There was something in his eyes that set you on edge; like the top of the roller-coaster before the downwards rush. It was thrilling and fun and terrifying all at once. “No, I just want to stir the sauce.” You gave him a questioning quirk of and eyebrow and Klaus sighed. “My face is full of steam. Please?” Klaus stuck out his bottom lip dramatically and widened his sad eyes. Against your better judgment and with a momentary lapse of memory regarding Klaus’ history with pranks, you conceded. “Alright, fine.” You and Klaus shuffled around each other in a small dance. Now you stood in front of the steaming pot of water with cooking pasta and Klaus in front of the start of the sauce. You gave him a careful glance as he pushed the tomatoes and onions around in the saucepan. When you saw that the onion had gone brown, you nudged Klaus with your elbow. “Tomato paste.” “What?” “Add tomato paste and look at the recipe.” Klaus reached for the paper and read it carefully. His brow furrowed and you saw that he was reading the same step over again. “You’re the one that wanted to be in charge of the sauce.” “Yes, I did,” Klaus murmured as he squeezed the tomato paste from the tube. With a ‘plop’, soon followed by a sizzle, the paste spread into the oil and the sauce began to form. You watched as he stirred. “I did.” “You did,” you echoed with a furrowed brow. Once the sauce had melded, Klaus flicked off the stove and let it cool. Yet, he still continued to stir as the heat faded away. You glanced at your own pot of food. You still had a bit until the timer you set went off; the sauce was done sooner than it should have taken.“Klaus what are you-” “I did because I wanted to do this!” Before you could respond or shriek or even flinch, Klaus flicked the spoon in your direction. Warm red-sauce splattered against your clothes and cheek. You screamed in shock and fright, although the sound was drowned out by Klaus’ laughter. “Oh you,” you clamped your jaw shut to keep from saying something you would regret. Klaus, on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less. “I told you!” Klaus choked out between fits of laughter. “You paid for it!” As Klaus got lost in what you imagined was pure joy, you reached your own stirring spoon into the saucepan. When you were content with the amount of tomato mixture you had gathered, you flung it at Klaus. Even when the sauce got in his chocolate curls and splattered across his face, Klaus continued to laugh. “Hey!” You stepped towards him and Klaus wiped at his eyes. His hand brushed against his cheek and swiped away a spot of sauce. “You’re a menace,” you grumbled under your breath. Klaus met your gaze and, with a smile like the one he gave you, you couldn’t stay mad for long. “But I’m your menace,” Klaus leaned in but before he could kiss you, you dragged your index finger along his cheek and gathered up some sauce on your fingertip. You popped the taste in your mouth and hummed. “And my cook, apparently. It’s good sauce.” Klaus smiled and reached his hands up to your face. You could feel his fingers brush through the sauce on your own face as he pulled your lips to his. For a moment, all you tased was tomato, then something sweet. Something you wished you could savor for the rest of your life. “Ya know what else is good?” Klaus asked when he pulled away from your lips. When he spoke, his breath tickled your neck and you couldn’t help but smile. “You cleaning up the mess you made?” Klaus let out a breathy laugh and let his head fall before he brought his gaze up to meet yours. “I think I remember you throwing some sauce too,” he pointed out. “Ah yes, but you threw the first spoonful.” You tapped Klaus’ nose lightly to tease him. “How about you start cleaning and I’ll salvage what I can of the sauce.” “Fine,” Klaus sighed. He leaned in once more and gave you a kiss. His soft lips melded against yours and you hummed into the touch. Klaus pulled away and you ran your fingers through his messy hair. Droplets of sauce gathered between your fingers and you cringed. “You have sauce in your hair.” Klaus grinned. “So do you.” You grinned back at him. You could live with this; all of it, including the mess, if it meant Klaus would be by your side.

#klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves imaignes #klaus hargreeves fanfic #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #tua #tua imagine #tua imagines #tua fanfic #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy fanfci #the umbrella academy fanfiction

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placestew1 · 3 years

Text

The eight Greatest Extra weight Loss Plans

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the-jade-cross · 3 years

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Burning Water - Chapter VIII

Chapter 8

Maya knew that one day her family would step foot in Kings Landing and she would have to make the choice to either remain hidden as a serving girl in a brothel or to emerge. Ever since she had arrived in Kings Landing, Maya had imagined this day over and over in her head. As she got older and her powers became stronger and more easily controlled, the more times she thought about leaving the brothel as the long lost Mayaka Tyrell. All her secrets would remain locked and guarded in the heart of Zarina. Now, as she stood staring down at the single handbag she had packed with her special keepsakes, she realized just how real her dreaming had become.

FLASHBACK. 4 HOURS PRIOR

“Maya,” Zarina chirped as she entered the washroom with dirty linens, “There is a lady requestioning you.”

Maya raised her eyebrows, “Since when has a woman ever wanted to see me?”

Zarina shrugged, “Never. Except this isn’t a woman but a lass. She couldn’t be older than you. And I don’t think she is looking for a lay.”

Maya nodded and tossed the handful of linens into the wash basin. “I’ll take care of it.”

Maya wondered as she walked to the front parlor, who it could be. It couldn’t be Zarina’s cousin Zinnia who would visit often. Had someone discovered her identity? Or worse, was it Lillia? Out of all the friends Maya had made, Lillia was the last one who should even be near a brothel, much less inside one. When Maya rounded the corner, she was relieved to not come into view with curly blond hair, but her relief soon washed away into stunned shock. Short brown locks cut just above the shoulders, contrasting like caramel and cocoa with the deep sun kissed smooth skin that was delicately garbed in deep orange clothes. Anyone would think the girl was unarmed but Maya could recognize several daggers hidden beneath the clothes. One on the side of her sandal, one over a thigh and the other up the lacy sleeves. The girl turned and brown met blue as the two girls glanced at each other.

“Nan?” Maya breathed.

The other girl grinned widely and rushed over before grasping Maya in the tightest hug the girl had ever had.

“I wasn’t imagining things,” Nanteza sighed as she took in the view of Maya, “When I came by earlier to find my uncle, I knew I had seen you, but I thought it was too good to be true.”

“What on earth are you doing here in Kings Landing?” Maya insisted.

Nanteza frowned, “You didn’t know? Maya…. Margaery is set to wed King Joffrey at the end of the week!”

END OF FLASHBACK

Maya sighed. Of all things to make her choose to leave the brothel, it had to be her little sister marrying a tyrant. Nanteza was presently waiting outside, having sent a message to Lillia to prepare a room for Maya without Cersei Lannister knowing. Maya reached beneath the mattress and pulled out two slender dual swords that she had kept hidden there. Both had zig zag razor like edges that made them fit together, so they looked like one sword when they were actually 2.

“what do you do when it rains?” a girl’s voice asked from behind Maya.

She hadn't heard anyone approaching, which was a first, so she spun around and raised her hands defensively but froze. Sitting in a crouched position on the wall of the roof like a gargoyle on a Castle wall was a dark figure. Garbed completely in black and dark Gray with a hood that concealed everything and a mask that only revealed the eyes. the person's hands were gloved in black while one rested on their leg the other held a massive bow of iron. Maya had heard tales of the Warlock which had spread like wildfire over Westeros since the first viewing when the Warlock rescued Jaime Lannister and Brianne of Tarth from the Boltons. Maya's hands instinctively tightened around the hilt of her sword when she noticed the person's eyes. framed by long black lashes with the Faintest of red tips like flame were two Golden orbs. There had been only one person Maya had ever met who had eyes like liquid gold.

“Evelyn Stark?”

The amber eyes crinkled as the person smiled and one pale white hand reached up and pushed the hood and mask back. If Maya thought Nanteza had grown since she last saw her it was nothing compared to how sweet rosy Evelyn had changed. Her smooth features had sharpened, and her pale complexion accented her straight nose, firm smirking lips and sleek black eyebrows. Her cheekbones were defined and her eyes more wise than mischievous now. Evelyn hopped down from her perch and began to scan the roof thoughtfully. Maya’s first thought was to wonder why Evelyn seemed standoffish but then it dawned on her that Evelyn had not been in the friendly company of anyone in almost two years.

“when Nan said your sister was marrying Joffrey, I thought you might emerge.”

“what are you doing this far South?” Maya inquired.

Evelyn smiled. “I had to go underground for five months till little Robb was well enough to travel. when that happened, I couldn't help but want to journey a good distance to stretch my legs.”

Maya chuckled. “you have definitely stretched them.”

“and I wanted to make sure there was no attempted murder on Cersei Lannister.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong but I thought Cersei was on the top of your hit list.”

Evelyn chuckled. “death is too merciful and peaceful for her. but over a dozen houses in one place with Cersei as host… I wouldn't blame your Oberyn Martell for dropping some venom in her wine.”

Mya went to agree when she paused. “he's not my Oberyn Martell.”

Evelyn smirked and Maya realized it suited her just like the wide smile suited Lillia and the calm expression suited Nanteza.

“where are the little ones?” she asked, looking around for any sign of a horse, owl, dire Wolf or little person.

“I left the boys in the Woods with Zinzi and lady. when Rob is old enough to walk, I will start bringing them on face-to-face encounters. Chance is out grazing, and Ace is below keeping an eye out.”

Maya smiled. Evelyn had made a pack for herself.

“And your training with Brisingr?”

“complete.” Evelyn replied. “I can manipulate fire as a basic, but I must understand the three other elements if I want to conquer my soul flame. Brisingr has sent me on a mission to find my next mentor but I thought a pit stop was in order.”

“a six-month pit stops.” Maya teased.

the flapping of wings interrupted the two girls and Ace appeared landing on Evelyn’s shoulder.

“I should go.” Evelyn explained.

Mya nodded. “me too. Nanteza would chew me out for making her wait.”

Evelyn resituated her hood and mask back on her head. “Maya.” she stated. “it was good seeing you.”

Maya smiled. “you too Eve.”

the Stark girl hopped onto the ledge and made to leave when she turned back to Maya.

“what I said about someone murdering Cersei… I have a feeling that there is a real possibility.”

“a gut feeling?” Maya asked .

Evelyn nodded solemnly. “but I'm not sure if it is directed at Cersei.”

********

“No absolutely not, there is no way!” Maya objected.

Lilia and Nanteza stuck out their bottom lips in a pout. They had pushed Maya through a serious bathing of oils and soaps and all kinds of perfumes to find the right aroma before bringing in a seamstress to have outfits made for her to fit . And by outfits, Lillia insisted on a riding outfit, 5 nightgowns, three ball gowns , four party dresses, 6 everyday dresses, two fighting outfits and six entertaining dresses. Maia agreed hesitantly on the agreement that all of them would be either lined with chainmail or easy to fight in. Preferably both. Now after having her endure that they had dressed the girl up and we're presently pushing her to go greet her siblings whom she hadn't seen in years.

“I promise your father is not in there!” Lilia assured her. “Only Margaery and Loras.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you're lying?” Maya asked through narrowed eyes.

Nanteza shrugged. “maybe because she hasn't blushed like a rose at the very mention of Loras's like she used to?”

Both Anne and Maya looked to Lillia for an explanation, but the blonde shrugged and bit her lip to hide the sad look on her face.

“What is the point of wanting someone you could never have and could never love you back because you are lacking in a male body parts?”

Anne snorted at the girls answer while Maya raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, I'm gonna kill him. Who are you and what have you done with Lillia?”

Lilia chuckled as she pushed Maya toward the door. “Oh, go on! Don't be a puffer fish!”

“Puffer fish?” Anne inquired.

Lillia nodded. “Instead of chicken, if Maya is ever scared, she's a puffer fish. Puff ! Puff!”

“But what the hell.” Maya sighed before pushing open the door.

Loras who had been trying to explain to Margaery why Lillia seemed so angry with him without revealing the content of the conversation they had spoken together, turned at the sound of the door and froze. Margaery rose to her feet and her jaw dropped.

“Maya?” She whisper screeched.

Mya smiled, unable to speak for fear that the tears would breakthrough. Margaery was across the room in a very unladylike speed and threw her arms around her sister.

“Oh, you're here! You're really here!”

Maya gave up on her battle with her tears and let them wet Margaery's shoulder as she clutched her little sister to her. When the two sobbing girls parted, Maya approached her brother who was still gawking, and mile couldn't help herself . She grasped Loras's face and felt his cheeks, his hair, his straight nose.

“You are all grown up!” She choked out.

Loras is face scrunched to fight tears but let them fall as he wrapped his arms around maya's shoulders and buried his face in her red hair.

“You are so beautiful!” He sobbed.

The last time Loras had seen his sister, she had been pretty but still growing up and now, with the ripe glow of womanhood, he was proud to have her for sister.

“how have you been? Where have you been hiding all this time? Were you treated well?” Margaery clambered out in a rush.

Maya knew that the answers to those questions were not ones that her siblings would want to hear so she did something she had never done to her siblings. She lied.

“I have been well. Just hanging around in the shadows. People tend to ignore me which is nice.”

Margaery smiled in relief as she gripped maya's hands urgently.

“Please tell me that you will be at my wedding? I will be Queen even if I'll be married to a turd. It will be so much better if you were there.”

A wedding …with lots of people …talking …and Oberyn Martell ….hell no!

“She would love to!” Lilia announced when she saw the way maya's face was practically yelling in objection.

“Indeed.” Nanteza hastily added. “We just ordered the seamstress to make her some outfits! She will be recognized as lady Mayaka Tyrell again!”

Margaery seemed satisfied with the girl’s suspicious intervention and clasped her hands joyfully.

“Wonderful! Every time I meet someone they ask where Maya Tyrell has been hiding ! It will be so good to not say that she is ill!”

Maya found herself chuckling, but she shot her friends warning glares that told them they would be hearing a lecture about their intervening.

“I have to visit the gardens again,” Maya apologized. “Kings Landing is so bright and high above sea level that I get dehydrated fast.”

The two Tyrells beamed. “Of course! We will be here all day.” Margaery assured her. “Will you join us for dinner? It is at 6.”

Maya smiled and nodded. “I'll be there.”

As Maya headed out toward the garden gates, she eyed Lillia and Nanteza coldly, “you will never do that ever again! Otherwise, I will send you to the deep North to find Evelyn and good luck with that!”

The two girls snickered in reply to her very threatening, possibly not so threatening, threat but Maya knew that they wouldn't do it again. She left them alone as she headed into the garden and Nanteza turned to Lillia.

“Now what? We have nothing to do for the next hour until dinner and I most certainly do not want to have to go off to look for my uncle because I know exactly where I will find him, and I would prefer not having to visit that place again.”

Lilia smirked, “we make sure no one disturbs them.”

Nanteza frowned, “them?”

Lillian nodded to the left and Nanteza followed her line of vision until she saw the all too familiar figure of her uncle heading into the garden, completely oblivious to the two snickering girls or to the fact that he would not be alone in the garden this particular afternoon.

#got #game of thrones #oberyn #oberyn Martell x you #oberyn Martell x oc #oberyn martell #oberyn Martell x reader

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antichristsxbox · 4 years

Text

Knight in Shining Armor

Summary: You’re a princess— locked away in a tower, under a sleeping spell, waiting for a brave suitor to come rouse you from your slumber. Luckily, Sir Michael Langdon has come to the rescue.

From the writer: Hey guys, I’m so excited about this! I think there’s going to be a few more parts to this, so stay tuned and let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list. Big shoutout to @jocelynscloset for proofreading this for me! Also, if you like this, be sure to check out my masterlist here! <3 Update— here’s part two, here’s part three, and here’s part four + here’s my masterlist with more fics!

Word count: 2,404

Background knowledge in italics:

A princess blessed with the gift of the Light, as it is known. To be able to conjure up power from the good, almost like a wizard of the time. A scary gift, sure, but a gift nonetheless. It must be a recessive trait, as nobody else in the family has been touched by the Light thus far. As your powers grew with you, you turned from a whimsical girl to a seemingly omnipotent woman. Whispers became less hushed around the castle as doors would open with no servants, candles would light with no match, and books would become loose from top shelves with no ladder. The King and Queen, your parents, have decided it is best for you to wait for one of your own power to suit you. ‘Only the best, or better, for our princess,’ their words replayed in your mind. A tower was built with barriers only a skilled knight could make it through alive. It seems irrelevant, though, that you would have liked to stay awake. As you were lead to the tower, you were apprehensive, but excited for when you would soon be roused, if ever.

Soft rays cascade through thin curtains to fall on bedsheets. A faint chirp! chirp! chirp! of the birds from outside can be heard. As you lift your head to see who has come, nobody more perfect could be thought of. This is not a figment of your imagination. Bright, blue eyes that energize you more the longer you look— soft, long, blonde hair that hangs a little past his shoulders, right above his silver, gleaming armor.

How long it has been, you cannot tell. Your parents had you put up and locked away for your own safety. Your conjuring abilities had been far too much for them to handle. As powers grew, so did the desire to use them. Such a convenience to have, and a waste to not use, you thought. Now, that urge has subsided, all due to the happiness you were feeling that somebody had finally come to save you. A loving kiss was all it took to break the spell. Although it was a one-sided love for now, a warm feeling began again in your chest. The suitor must have made it through the traps and misleadings that lead up to your room— the highest room in the tallest tower. The tallest tower guarded by a moat full of fish, bigger than the great, big whale that swallowed Jonah, your father said. Top floors of the tower protected by a dog-beast of three heads and enormous size, and misleading staircases that would send the adventurer falling down thousands of feet if one wrong step was taken.

“Are you here to save me?” you ask, sitting up and glancing at the mirror in your bedside table. A repressed memory tells you that you never looked like this before, not even entering the castle. A gold crown sits atop your head, three rubies, each in the middle of their own peak, the biggest gem sitting in the center. Red fabric falling from your arms as you reach up to touch the cold metal.

“Yes, Princess,” he says, guiding your fingers from your crown into his warm grasp to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand. As you fully sit up, you swing your legs to the edge of your bed and stand.

“Who is my suitor?” you ask, reaching for a gold pitcher and a crystal glass. Flowing from the top with ease is your first drink since probably five years. Clear liquid passes your lips and beads on your top lip, and you rub your lips together to rid them of the excess, then turn to the man behind you.

He is now standing, at least six feet tall it seems. A very impressive, strong knight. A long sword hangs down from his belt, leading your eye to his gleaming, black boots. His hand makes its way to your shoulder, glistening in the sunlight. Wrist so reflective, it’s aggressive for a little clock. Diamonds glisten, light shining in through your arched window.

“Sir Michael Langdon,” he says, kneeling before you and releasing his sword from its sheath, cling! The long strip of metal lies in his two hands as his head is bowed towards you. As you place your glass down, a finger of yours makes its way to the bottom of his chin, tipping his head up. Azure is all you can see, eyes almost as beaming as his armor in this sunlight. The warmth of his body being a now-familiar feeling, and a welcome reminder that you are, in fact, awake now.

Sir Langdon stands again as you release your touch from his face.

As you know, Michael is likely here to rescue, then marry you. He seems like a fine man, although you had only just met him. If he leaves without you, you are stuck here, now awake and with little water and food to sustain yourself with. The spell had been broken, and it seems nearly impossible for you to replicate it yourself. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you toy with the idea or running off with Michael and never returning. How would your family know that you’ve been saved? Do they come to check up on you often? The barriers set seem near impossible to sneak past and still leave intact.

“Come with me, Princess, your kingdom is so eager to meet you,” he says, offering an arm for you to grasp.

“Do you not wish to know who it is you are leading?” you say, taking a small step back and offering a small smile.

“My apologies, Princess, what is your name?” he says, now holding his hands clasped behind his back, posture straightening up in anticipation of an answer.

“Lady Abigail of Minnesott,” you say, softly reminiscing of your home before the tower. A river ran down behind your castle, and an open field before it. Wild deer, turkey, and mustangs all present in the temperate, deciduous forest around your home. Oh, how the leaves would turn in autumn. How sharks teeth and pottery fragments were readily available as the tide drew in, when you pursued the river bank searching for lost treasures. You could only hope for a place as beautiful, wherever Michael would take you.

“A beautiful woman of a beautiful land,” he says, offering his arm again. Warm metal is a refreshing sensation across your fingertips, and Michael leads you down the staircase. With horror, you witness the scattered bones of at least ten men, splayed across the floor beneath you, piled up near where the dog-beast once resided. Dried-up blood stains and gore were on display across the walls, the only other artwork here besides the oil on panel of your family, safely tucked away in your room.

Past the slain dog-beast, for it was not just a creature of your father’s dreams. Across the long bridge of the moat, above the murky waters. Shadows of large fish and glimmering of large scales suggest that one of those creatures may still hold Jonah captive.

Out on a post was a dark horse, secured with a rope skillfully tied. One pull, and the rope is free of its tangles. A firm hand grasps your waist as you mount the horse, but hands are careful to travel no further south. A true gentleman, you must remark in your mind. As Michael mounts the horse in the seat in front of you, one swift kick is all it takes before the four feet under you are trotting, then running. A small jingling noise is coming from the seams of your dress, and a quick investigation is needed before you determine that a compass is in the pocket of your dress. One small glance down, and you realize that the horse is taking you south rather than North.

“Should we not be headed toward Vandemere?” you ask, a somewhat urgent tone in your voice.

“My kingdom is south, Princess, near Havelock and towards the Croatan Forest,” he says, a stern look in his face as he scans the path ahead. As Michael seems to know where he is going, your worries are washed away. Your sense of direction may have been put on hold during your deep slumber, but it is back now, and perhaps stronger than it was before.

The forgotten feeling of tiredness washes over you, and before long, your grasp on Michael loosens enough so you could relax, but you’re still steady while he’s riding horseback— you lean in to drift off on his shoulder, warm metal and all. When you wake, it is now dark outside, and the horse has stopped running, but it now simply slow-trotting through a forest. A few more minutes through the dark forest, and Michael beckons the horse to stop. He is now dismounting his ride and tying up on a tree branch.

“Stay here, Princess, I must go search for a landmark on our way,” he says, walking off. You pull out your compass once more, only to realize that the arrow will not point anywhere besides south, no matter where you turn.

“Are we more towards Trent, or Pollocksville?” you ask, but Michael is already into the woods before you even began to speak.

Ears alert and ready to pick up on any cues as to where Michael is. Not a chirp! from a bird, not a crackle! from skimming the side of a bush, not a swoosh! as his feed passed over the ground. Only visual cues left to guide you towards him— if you choose to go and venture— even the stars being hard to see through the thick foliage.

“Princess!”

Your heart skips a beat as Michael shouts. Your leg swings over the saddle so you’re sitting atop the horse, then you carefully slide down, using the stirrup as a guide as to where to place your feet. It is only then you realize how fatigued you are, running on barely any water and no food since years ago, probably.

“Sir Langdon, I’m following your voice!” you shout, heading the direction his initial call came from. Step by step, you make your way on the dusty ground. There is no path, no landmark presenting itself yet. Only the memory of which way his voice had come from. It is now colder than you remember it being at night, although this could just be due to being farther inland— no body of water acting as a heat sink during the day, then releasing heat through the night.

Leaves crunch! under your feet as you begin walking faster. The darkness tends to disorient you. Faint outlines of trees begin to grow and shrink as you walk further. Turn around and you’ll see nothing, only the night’s dark blanket, engulfing the sky and almost everything around you.

“Are you alright?” a faint voice causes you to turn around, and you find Michael waiting for you by a strange stump, it seems like. As you walk closer, you realize it is a ring of mushrooms, leading down to what seems to be a small cavern, only there is no other demarcation other than the ring of mushrooms to warn any passerby of this dip in the road. Walking closer, you see it is actually a well, as the inside is even darker than the ground surrounding it, and the edges are a perfectly symmetrical circle. Very strange, you thought, but perhaps Michael would like to stop for the night and continue the long journey tomorrow.

“Could we draw up some water?” you ask, looking towards the well, but not daring to step any closer than four feet. The last thing you would like is to be a victim in another situation where you would be in need of rescuing.

“Of course, Princess,” Michael says, stepping closer towards you and taking your cold hand in his warm one. As his fingers travel up your arm and toward your jawline, you shudder at the sensation and move back. He begins to lean closer, with his still-warm armor grazing your front. He takes another step forward to move into you closer and brings his arms around you protectively. A small shuffle in your direction from him has his warm face nuzzled between your shoulder and neck.

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he says, voice muffled from his face being buried in your dress. You step back to look at his face, although you can barely see a thing in the overwhelming darkness of the night. It is very hard to trust a man you had only met earlier today, and you would only have to see with time if Michael could hold up to this.

Creeping in from the back of your mind, a very fatiguing sensation begins to wash over you once more. You feel wobbly almost, and contemplate just falling asleep then and there, your dress is thick enough to keep you warm through the night, and it seems as if Michael wouldn’t let you lie down alone. Michael then removes his face from your shoulder, and the cold air is again exposed due to your low neckline. His thumb rests on your top lip before his hand is entirely pulled away, moving towards your chest. It doesn’t take much to move you, and you almost melt at his lively touch.

“Forgive me, Princess,” he says. Without any time for you to question what he is asking forgiveness for, your fatigue has gotten the better of you. In perfect timing for Michael, a small jostle is all it takes for him to send you down the well. Unbeknownst to you, Michael had you exactly where he wanted you, luring you towards the secret Hellmouth.

Information on ring of mushrooms mentioned:

Fairy rings are acknowledged to have otherworldly powers or be connected with dark forces, according to various folklore tales. They have a mythical reputation of fairies or supernatural creatures being present around the rings— there are many warnings of the dangers of entering a fairy ring throughout different stories. Many sources warn of fairy rings being created by shooting stars, lightning strikes, or the work of witches. Some even say entering a fairy ring can lead to certain doom.

///

Tag list: @langdonsoceaneyes @ms-mead @daydreamingofcody @psychobitchtess @swampwitchh13

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon alternate universe #michael langdon au

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yodawgiherd · 4 years

Text

Locked

Rating: M

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Setting up some dom Mikasa stuff, the main load should arrive next chapter. I missed her.

Enjoy!

“Just a tiny bit to the left love, and it will be perfect.”

“A bit more pressure…”

“Use the tips of your fingers more.”

The hands from his back disappeared.

“Eren, I swear to god, if you give me one more pointer I’m going to stop.”

“But baaaaaabe,”, he drawled, looking over his shoulder on her adorable pouty face, “I’m just trying to help you! Don’t forget, I’m a licensed professional.”

“You had one course in college.”, Mikasa corrected him, supporting the words with a slap on Eren’s back, “One.”

“That’s still one more than you.”

Rolling her eyes, Mikasa squeezed a bit more oil on his skin, putting her hands back to work. It was a neat idea, in concept, to greet Eren home with scented candles, dimmed lights and the massage table that till now was mostly used for her pleasure. She spent uncountable hours there, under Eren’s care, having the kinks and tiredness worked out of her muscles by his amazing hands. He really did have a magic touch, no matter that he kept laughing at that idea. Mikasa wanted to pay him back for once, to make him feel as amazing as he made her feel, but it wouldn’t be Eren if he just kept silent and enjoyed it. Nope. He had to keep giving her tips, pointers, where to apply more pressure and how to knead his shoulders. Ungrateful bastard.

Then again, if he knew that this whole massage thing had a bit of an ulterior motive….

Maybe it was about time that Mikasa let him know. But how was she supposed to break the idea to him? Thinking hard, she once again focused on making Eren’s skin glisten and massaging him to the best of her abilities. Thankfully he was silent, eyes closed, and just enjoyed her efforts. Moving down, she kneaded his sides, moving down until she reached the place just above Eren’s ass. She should really say something, or there was the rising danger that Eren might just fall asleep, being quite tired from his shift and relaxed from how Mikasa worked him, despite his constant nagging. Well, here goes nothing.

“Baby?”

One green eye cracked open, watching her, a sign that he was paying attention.

“Do you remember the… uh… thing you asked me to do a few days back? The… ass stuff.”

“You mean the beads? Of course I remember.”, his eye twinkled with amusement, “We did that last Friday babe, it’s just three days past.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking and…. I’d want to do something of a kind to you.”

The eyebrow she could see rode up.

“You want me to put pearls up my ass for you?”

Mikasa shook her head.

“Nope, not that. Something similar, but different.”

Yea, that sentence made a lot of sense.

Eren was silent, most likely waiting for her to elaborate, but staring at his obviously interested face, or the part that she could see, Mikasa found herself unable to talk. Blushing, she choked on the words, mentally cursing the absurdity of this. They did so much stuff together, her and Eren, fulfilled so many fantasies and kinks for each other, and while she had no problem doing them, talking about them was a different thing. She opened and closed her mouth, no sound coming out, much to Eren’s amusement.

“You okay?”, he asked, obviously mocking her a little bit.

Screw it. Jumping to the practical part of her show and tell, Mikasa pushed herself away from the massage table, making a beeline up the stairs and to their bedroom where she stashed the thing. Fishing the box out, she returned to Eren, who didn’t even shift in his position, waiting patiently. With bated breath, Mikasa popped the box open, pulling out the contraption. Eren looked at it, then blinked and looked at it again before turning over and sitting up cross-legged on the table, eyes wide. Not that Mikasa blamed him.

“That’s a cage.”, he stated the obvious.

“Yes.”

“Small cage.”

“Yup.”

“For…?”

Still with red cheeks, Mikasa pointed between his legs.

“That.”

“Right…”

Eren was slowly taking the situation in, the proposition and all, the gears in his head obviously turning. Mikasa gave him a minute, then another one, but when he remained silent, staring at the metal bars, she decided to act.

“Look, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, obviously, it was just an idea.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Yet. I’m just processing.”, he reached for the thing, curious, “May I?”

Nodding, Mikasa gave it to him, resuming her waiting period while Eren inspected the thing up close. She wanted him to say yes, if only because the idea of controlling him this much was hot, and Mikasa really wished that Eren would be open-minded enough. Or brave.

“So? Are you interested in the idea?”? it was hard for her to keep the excitement out of her voice, “Willing to give it a try?”

“I’m not opposed to it.”, Eren’s voice was sober, and putting the toy down next to him on the massage table, he looked up to meet her eyes. “But I need to hear the details first. How do you imagine this would work?”

“It’s Monday today, so I was thinking I’ll lock you up tomorrow, Tuesday morning, and then you won’t take it off until Friday when we get back from work...”, Mikasa smiled, “Because after that I’ll proceed to dom the shit out of you. Sounds good?”

Judging from the way he smiled back at her, it did.

“Terrific.”

“Are you up for it then?”, she asked.

“I do have a few conditions.”

Wouldn’t be Eren if he didn’t complicate things, right?

“Let’s hear it”

“If I’m to have my cock locked up for three days, I want you to abstain too.”

“Huh?”

“Come now Miki, don’t play coy.”, leaning closer, Eren’s voice dropped lower, “You want to tell me that you didn’t plan on making use of me, of my mouth? Make me eat you out or finger you while I won’t even be able to get hard? You did, don’t deny it.”

She sighed. Okay, maybe Mikasa did have something like that on the agenda. Maybe she did plan on having him eat her pussy and ass. Maybe Eren did expose her. Oh well, it will have to wait then.

“Okay.”, she shrugged.

“I’m fine with you doing anything you want with me on Friday, that play will be completely in your hands, but until then…”

“Nothing.”, Mikasa finished for him.

“That’s correct.”

She looked at him, at his naked body there, sitting on the massage table, skin glistening with oils she smeared all over him during that massage earlier. Three days? But hell, Eren was actually willing to go in the cage for her, and if Mikasa had to sacrifice some of her pleasure for it, fine. She’s going to take everything from him on Friday. And more. With a resolute move, Mikasa stepped closer and took hold of the massage oil squeezing a bit more onto Eren’s abs, watching it trickle down to that place between his legs.

“Might I ask what you are doing?”, his voice betrayed a degree of excitement, as Mikasa’s hands moved in soothing circles, moving closer and closer to his awakening length.

“If we are doing a small chastity trial for us both, I’m getting some fuck right now.”, she pointed out, “Your cock is free until tomorrow morning and I intend to use it before then.”

Pushing him back on the table, Mikasa took a step back, stepping out of her sweats and shrugging her shirt over her head. Now only in her underwear, she noticed Eren’s excited gaze, giving her an idea. Mikasa bit her bottom lip and slowed down, as stripping could be made into a lot of fun if so desired. Normally she wore something spicier while doing a stripper dance for Eren, some lacy lingerie, stockings and garter belts, high heels and all that, but she would make it work even now, in her uninteresting day-to-day stuff. Turning around, she gave him a prime view of her ass, running her hands up and down the firm curve of it. With a shake of her hips, she turned back to face him, undoing her bra in very unhurried movements. As it went slack, Mikasa let the cloth fall on the floor, palming her bare breasts. Rolling her nipples between the fingers, she threw her head back, overplaying her reaction a bit just to tease him. It was way too much fun. Squeezing her tits, Mikasa moaned out load, not missing the hiss that Eren let out.

“I thought we were going to fuck.”, he rumbled, obviously holding himself back, “But it looks like you don’t even need me.”

“Mhmm.”, letting go of her chest, Mikasa dipped her right hand beneath her panties, tracing the outline of her sex, “But it feels so good…”

“Come here and I’ll make you feel even better.”, Eren’s voice was deep and seductive, just the way Mikasa liked, “I promise.”

Quickly convinced, Mikasa stopped pleasuring herself and swiftly got rid of the last article of clothing on her body. She closed the distance between them and climbed on, straddling Eren’s cross-legged form with her weight. The table would handle them, it wasn’t the first time it was forced to bear them both.

“Well,”, she said, loping her hands behind Eren’s neck and raising an eyebrow, “I’m waiting….”

Taking it an invitation to move, he finally kissed her, long and hard, their tongues sliding against each other. At the same time, Mikasa’s hands moved again, finally reaching in-between their bodies to palm his excitement. Grasping the length firmly, Mikasa began massaging the oil into Eren’s cock, hard already, getting it all nice and scented for her pleasure. Her touch made him moan into the kiss, the way she played with the sensitive head, teasing it expertly with her thumb. Mikasa knew just how to touch him, how to make Eren weak with only the tips of her fingers, making him melt into her care.

“You want to fuck?”, a heated whisper, right into Eren’s ear, “Want to push your nice cock inside my pussy?”

It was impossible to speak with her hands hard at work between his legs, moving up and down in perfected motions, only pausing to add more of that nicely smelling massage oil. She controlled him, Eren realized, her hands were keeping him on the brim with the cock massage but at the same time Mikasa didn’t allow him to spill, anytime he got too close she changed her hold to apply pressure to his balls and the base of his length, stopping the orgasm before it could happen. If Eren wanted to cum, he had to beg, his pleasure was completely in Mikasa’s hands. Literally.

“Pl-Please, Miki, I can’t…”, throwing his head back, Eren groaned, hands squeezing Mikasa’s thighs where they were straddling him.

She could edge him for hours and did so in the past, but right now Mikasa herself was quite turned on, and knowing that she won’t get any fun in the coming days made her cut it relatively short. Plus oiling Eren’s cock so perfectly and not riding it after would be quite wasteful. Planting her feet on the table, she positioned herself over him, angling his cock and moving down until she pushed the tip inside herself. The penetration was easy, Mikasa was wet and Eren was all lubed up by the massage oil, so she slid down his length all the way. With Eren’s whole thing inside her, Mikasa was sitting on his lap now, staring into his eyes, cheeks flushed. Sure, the lube made it easy, but Eren’s cock was long and thick, and having all of it inside her tight heat was overpowering, the tip brushing Mikasa’s cervix anytime she moved.

He could sit and stare, waiting for his queen to move, but Eren was never the type to do that. Instead, he reached for the oil bottle, abandoned by Mikasa, deciding to do some massaging himself. His every move followed by curious grey eyes, he squeezed it above her chest, letting the oil trickle down her rising and falling chest, over those small perky tits with their hard raised nipples and down to that valley of perfect abs. As she was holding onto him, hands behind Eren’s neck, his own were free, so he put them to work. Mikasa let out a small giggle when Eren began kneading her breasts, massaging the oil into the firm shapes, but It soon dissolved into a drawn-out moan. He was good with his hands, as she told him uncountable times. To reward him for such a nice treatment of her breasts, Mikasa finally began to stir her hips, making small circles on Eren’s lap, shifting his cock inside her. It always felt good, when he rubbed those places, only made better by his hands still touching her chest, now preoccupied by playing with the nipples. And then Eren’s mouth appeared, latching onto, sucking, gently biting, and Mikasa’s hands changed into claws on his back, nails drawing her pleasure into his muscles.

She moved slowly not rushing it either. Mikasa was more than capable of riding him hard, hell, she was the one who broke the bedframe once doing it, but there was no need for that. Hips circling, she pressed her body as close as it could physically be to her lover, clinging to him, to his warmth, while Eren’s mouth and hands played with her chest, giving her exactly what she craved. It was perfect, the closeness, the pleasure he was giving her both with his mouth and his length, making her moan and sigh in total bliss. Mikasa was so out of it that for once she didn’t notice the tensing of Eren’s muscles, the small twitches and tells he tried to hold back but couldn’t. Mikasa was too much, she always was, and with her weight on his lap, with her tits pressed right into his face, with the incredibly tight warmth of her cunt spasming around his length, with how effortlessly she rode him using the tireless strength of her abdominals, Eren was on the losing side of his endurance battle. Her hands on his cock felt amazing, but this massage he was getting right now while being inside her, how her walls rubbed against his sensitiveness, that feeling was unmatched. Eren held himself back as much as he could, bravely fought against his instincts, tried to think about unsexy stuff to stop the inevitable, but his brain was overwhelmed by Mikasa. Unable to win, his body tensed beneath her, a muttered curse escaping his lips as his cock twitched inside, the warmth spilling there being a sign that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Mikasa pulled back, staring down at her flushed lover, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Did you just cum inside me?”

“S-Sorry…”, he muttered against her skin, preferring to face Mikasa’s tits instead of her eyes, “Couldn’t stop myself.”

“Guess I should have put a cock ring on you.”, Mikasa sighed, not really mad or anything, just finding it a bit funny, “Mister premature ejaculation.”

It wasn’t very fair to tease him, it was her fault that he came so early anyway, she didn’t give him time to calm down after edging her boy. Yet while she was willing to forgive him, Eren wasn’t willing to forgive himself, judging from his frown. He prided himself on being able to satisfy all his fiancé’s needs, sexual included, and this accident upset him. Maybe she should give him a chance to redeem himself, a chance for Eren, a captain of Gondor, to show his quality.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”, Mikasa whispered, smoothing the long hair away from his face with a smile, “I’ll train you properly on Friday, but for now…..”

With a shove, Mikasa all but slammed Eren’s back on the table, forcing him to lie down while she stared down at her victim, tone dominant when she ordered him.

“Don’t even think about getting soft.”

Staring up, at Mikasa’s athletic body, her muscles and firm curves glistening with oil, losing his erection didn’t even seem like a possibility. She was a goddess, Eren thought to himself, strong and beautiful at the same time, firm and soft and effortlessly surpassing anything a man could dream about.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

And she moved, up and down, this time way harder and with more power, riding his sensitive cock with wild abandon. Slamming her hips into his with force, the massage table shaking underneath them, Eren could just stare at her, his body under her control once more. Mikasa was using him for her pleasure, eyes fluttering closed as her own orgasm finally neared, the nicely shaped cock she was riding giving her all the stimulation she could ask for. Gritting his teeth underneath her, Eren focused on watching her chest bounce with her movements, the small perky shapes hypnotizing. He could see the red where his teeth went to work, Mikasa was bound to have love bites littering her chest come next morning. That’s going to be fun.

Close and closer still, Mikasa’s head lolled back, eyes closed as she savored this feeling of being pushed over the edge. With a moan of pure pleasure, she came, squeezing Eren’s length inside her, milking it, but it was still way too soon for him to follow her once more. And that just wouldn’t do. Once she enjoyed her own orgasm to the fullest, she moved. With a wet sound, Mikasa pushed herself from Eren, moving to lay on her side. Taking hold of his cock, slick from both the remnants of the oil and the time inside her, Mikasa began jerking him off, fully intent on making Eren finish again. Attacking on more places that one, she claimed his mouth too, swallowing all the sounds her hand forced him to make. Kissing Mikasa always felt amazing, kissing her while she attended his primal need for her was even better. Muscles tensing, Eren was peaking again, and this time Mikasa noticed. Withdrawing her tongue from his mouth, she ended the kiss, moving until she was facing his cock, a smile on her lips.

“What are you…?”

But Eren couldn’t even finish the sentence, because Mikasa doubled her efforts, one of her hands sliding up and down his shaft while the other gently massaged his balls, easing the orgasm out of him. And he came, hard, his cock twitching in her fist, the ropes of his finish splashing her face. Opening his eyes, Eren was greeted by the sight of Mikasa kneeling between his legs, her beautiful features covered in his release, yet she was still smiling. Getting Eren to cum on her face was apparently her goal. Dragging a finger down her cheek, she licked it after, keeping eye contact all the while.

“Delicious.”, she purred.

Where were those times, when Mikasa would get angry when Eren unwillingly came on her face? Long gone. And seeing her embrace her sexuality like this, naked, confident and beautiful, he was happy, so happy of what they managed to achieve together. He kissed her then, not minding the mess, not minding anything, because as long as it was with Mikasa, Eren was willing to give anything a go. Even the damn cage.

The next morning, Mikasa locked him up, as they agreed to. Knowing what to do, she first slid the ring to the base of his cock, securing it in place before adding the cage on top. Seeing it, how willingly he went into chastity for her, made the goth both so happy and turned on at the same time, taking full advantage of Eren’s submission always did it for her.

“There.”, holding out the key, now securely placed on a chain around her neck, Mikasa had a very smug grin on her lips, “Now I’m your keyholder. You won’t get your cock back unless I let you.”

“It would appear so.”, Eren shrugged, the tightness between his legs unfamiliar but not that unpleasant. “Friday it is then.”

Now that it was finally happening, the cage sitting firmly between her boyfriend’s legs, a bit of worry crept up Mikasa’s mind. Sure, she wanted to try new things, but they both had to like it, there was no reason to do something Eren didn’t enjoy.

“You know that anytime you’ll really want me to let you out, I’ll do it immediately, right? There are copies of the key and if you are too uncomfortable just…”

Eren shushed her by the only way he knew that was sure to make her shut up. He kissed her.

“Hey…”, he said, when they separated, forehead pressed against hers, “I trust you, okay? I want this, don’t worry.”

She rewarded him with a small shy smile, not really fitting the act they were currently engaging in. The blushing girl who just locked her boyfriend’s cock in a cage, how cute.

“I love you, you know?”, Mikasa whispered back.

“I love you too,”, the easy smile on Eren’s lips faltered when he felt the pressure increase between his legs as his length wanted to rise but was denied by the metal bars. Maybe he should cut down on the kissing thing for his chastity period, as it felt too good not to yield certain results. Swallowing, he forced the smile to remain, not wanting his coy dominatrix to worry.

“And I’m looking forward to Friday, mistress Ackerman.”

“Well,”, her smile becoming more confident, Mikasa slid her nose alongside Eren’s, her voice getting throatier, “You are not the only one, puppy.”

And she kissed him again, harder and more demanding, making the cock cage quite bothersome all of a sudden. It didn’t help that Mikasa just had to touch it, to swipe her fingers over the metal that encased Eren’s pride, part of her still not believing that he did this for her. Her lovely puppy, so good for his mistress.

It’s going to be a long three days.

#eremika #snk #fanfic #smut #:) <3

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emichelle · 5 years

Text

Curious

Summary: Ellie has had a taste of Colt at prom, but he's pushing her away again. She's not having it this time.

Warnings: 🍋

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Ellie leaned out from under the hood of Logan's Devore GT, placing her hands on her lower back and attempting to crack it. Logan looked up and smirked at her, "Had enough troublemaker? Let's go get some grub."

"Yes! Food!" Toby agreed, rolling out from under his car next to them. "X! Mona! Let's go eat!" He stood up heading to the kitchen to wash his hands.

"I could eat, I'm sick of these cars today anyway." Mona agreed, her hair tied back in a ponytail, not the usual for her.

"Yeah let's go get something, we've been working all day. Colt! You coming?" Ximena yelled over to where he was, crouched down and working on his bike.

"Nah, you guys go ahead. Maybe bring back a pizza or something." He waved them off, going back to his bike.

"You wanna go change first Ellie? I know your hands aren't as bad as mine" he held his grease stained hands up laughing, "but I figure you might want to freshen up some."

"Actually, I don't think I'm up for going either." She shrugged, seeing Colt's eyes on her from across the shop floor. "I am so sore from being under the hood of this thing, I just want to shower and lay down."

"I can stay with you! They can bring back food for everybody, right Toby?" He turned to Toby expectantly, as he shot him a thumbs up and started walking for the door.

"NO, no, I mean...you go ahead Logan it's fine, go eat! I'm not gonna be doing anything interesting here, just a shower and laying around. Go eat!" She shot him her sweetest smile and he leaned down pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Alright, if you're sure. You just relax then, we'll bring you something back." And with that the crew left. Just me and you Kaneko, you can't avoid me forever.

"I guess I'm gonna head up and shower, you good down here?" She asked as she wandered over to the white bike in the far corner.

"Yeah. Not like I need help." He didn't even look up, continuing to turn something she had no idea the name of. What were you expecting Ellie, him to jump up and hug you because they left? Logan just had to kiss you before he went, and you let him. Stupid girl.

She turned and headed upstairs, missing the way his eyes hung on her as she went. After a quick hot shower she threw on her Langston sweatshirt and some sleep shorts, going for as much comfort as possible because her back really was killing her. Trudging back downstairs she caught his eye as he was walking into the kitchen.

"You feeling better?" He asked, not stopping his walk to wait for an answer.

So she followed him. Why are you following him? He was leaned down into the fridge grabbing a drink, and she couldn't help but take in his form. The muscles in his back evident through his white tee shirt, those strong arms.. You're playing with fire Ellie, stop it!

"Why do you want to know?" She leaned against the door frame, watching him as he stood and turned to look at her.

"I can help you know, with your back" her eyes widened, "Get your mind out of the gutter, I mean I can give a great massage. I've even got the oils." He's even got the oils...why does he have the oils. How many girls has he lured in with this line? "No I don't use it to lure innocent girls to their death, you're really so predictable El." He laughed sarcastically, turning towards his room in the back of the shop. "You coming?"

She stared at his retreating form, waging a war in her own mind. He's just helping with your back, you and Logan are not an item...and even if you were it's just a massage! Screw it, I'm doing it. "Yeah wait up!"

Standing in his room she felt like a fish out of water. It was so...neat? I was not expecting this.

"You can just lay on the bed, you're going to have to take your shirt off though." She stiffened, why didn't I put a bra on after my shower? "I'll turn around, no need to have a panic attack. I won't tell pretty boy." He rolled his eyes, turning back to find the oil and allow her some privacy.

Just do it Ellie, you're here now, no backing out ...unless you want to back out ...no...no I don't want to back out. I'm tired of playing this game and getting the second place prize. She pulled her sweater over her head, and in a brazen move she pulled her sleep shorts down her legs as well, letting them pool at her feet. Left only in her pale blue cotton thong she laid on her stomach on his bed. "I'm ready when you are."

He turned, seeing her laying there and his breath caught in his throat. I did not expect that. Shaking off his shock he walked around to the other side of the bed, kneeling beside her and laying out the bottles of oil. "I've got vanilla, coconut, and citrus. Which do you want?"

"Ohh, citrus! I bet that will smell amazing" propping her head up on her crossed arms she turned her head towards him, watching him put the other bottles on the nightstand and pour a little oil in his hands to warm it up. He caught her eye and she smiled softly, while he barely smirked, just enough to acknowledge her.

He began by gently rubbing the oil across her shoulder blades, kneading gently to start. "Mmm...that feels great, but most of my pain is in my lower back." She bit her lip, wondering if he'd take the bait. Either way this really does feel amazing.

Yeah sure, make me get closer to that perfect ass I've dreamt about since that night. No problem. He rolled his eyes. "I'll get there, be patient." He murmured, pouring oil straight from the bottle down the length of her spine. He started working his way down her back, varying pressure and direction. He shifted down the bed, running his hands down the back of her thighs and calves, spreading oils as he went.

He continued by lifting her left leg and pressing it back towards her backside to stretch it out, repeating the process with her right leg. Applying firm pressure on the backs of her thighs, she could feel herself getting wet. Running his calloused fingers right up to the bottom of her ass cheeks and back down again, then switching to her calves.

I don't know how much more of this I can take, and he hasn't caved at all. Maybe he really doesn't want this. He started gently massaging her feet as she laid there lost in thought.

"Ellie...Ellie...El!"

"Yeah? Sorry!" She jumped slightly when she heard him trying to get her attention.

"I said I'm done, do you feel any better?" She felt him shifting and reached her arm out to grasp his wrist, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves. Won't know if you don't try.

"What about the front, don't normal masseuse do the front too?" She asked, in a very low voice because her nerves were getting to her.

He hesitated, staring at the side of her face trying to decide what this means. She's with Logan, isn't she? What is going on here? I don't think I can control myself if she rolls over...I could barely keep from grabbing that beautiful ass as it is. "Uh, yeah...but I'm not a fucking masseuse."

She laughed, "sorry, that's just what they're called." She hesitated, biting her lower lip as she slowly turned over to lie on her back. She saw his eyes darken, still chewing her lip as his eyes swept over her body. Her nipples instantly hardening under his gaze.

Taking a deep breath he decided, fuck it. Fuck Logan. He poured the oil in his hand, letting it warm up as he watched her close her eyes and relax. Here goes nothing. He cupped his hand and drizzled the now warm oil over her peaked buds. She sucked in a gasp, afraid to open her eyes so she just enjoyed the feeling as he began massaging around the sides of her breasts. Moving down her ribcage to her hips, she arched into his hands and he knew. She wants this too…

Hands caressing back up her sides, taking his time and brushing just his fingertips over her erect nipples. She moaned, writhing beneath his hands and he grabbed both of her breasts in his hands, squeezing and massaging, rolling her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. He leaned down and captured one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud and sucking lightly, swapping sides and showing the other the same attention.

Her mouth had fallen open and obscene sounds were making their way out. I sound like a needy whore, this is so embarrassing but soo good… Biting down on her lip again she chanced a glance at Colt and found that he was already watching her, sending a bolt of electricity straight to her core. He smirked at the sight and grabbed the oil again, pouring some down the front of both thighs.

Starting from her knees he started kneading up, thumbs creeping under the edge of her panties, brushing her wet folds. She arched into his hands again, body begging for more of his touch. He hooked his thumb into the front of her underwear, pulling them down her long legs and exposing her completely to him. He was painfully hard, but this was about her.

He started rubbing his thumb in loose circles around her bundle of nerves, setting a slow pace to build her up. Gently he pushed one finger into her, working it back and forth before adding a second one and hooking them to rub her sensitive spot perfectly. He watched her, writhing beneath him, mouth open letting out gentle pants, eyes still tightly closed. Yeah, you like that don't you? I remember. I can't believe I've waited this long to get my hands back on your body. He leaned down replacing his thumb with his tongue, swirling around and giving her clit a soft suck. He continued to lick and suck on her sensitive nub, fingers moving at quicker speeds now, driving her straight over the edge as she arched off the bed.

"Ohhhhh, Colt! Yes mmmm… " she relaxed back to the bed as he worked her through her orgasm, slowly removing his fingers and licking them clean. Her body visibly trembling, breaths coming out in soft pants. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze and smiling. "Hi" She breathed.

He smirked "Hi yourself, El. Not that I want to rush you, but they'll be back any time now. You better get back out there." He nodded towards the door.

He thinks I want to leave? Is he crazy? "They'll be ok, coming out of your room won't be the craziest thing I've done recently. Unless you just don't want them to see me with you." She shrugged.

"What about Logan?"

"What about him?" She quirked her head to the side.

"Aren't you two together? Pretty sure he wouldn't be ok with you even talking to me, much less what just happened." He laughed.

"We're...not. We're not together. I know he wants to be, and at one time I did too. But he lied to me, and I just can't." She closed her eyes, hoping this wasn't just something easy for him and she wasn't telling him this for nothing.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Yeah, ok. You can stay in here until they get back if you want then."

"Colt...did this..uh, did this mean anything? To you?"

"Are you asking me if I like you El?" He smirked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Yes Colt, I am asking you if you like me." She rolled her eyes. Always such a smartass.

He shifted, coming closer to her on the bed and her heartbeat shot up. He ran his fingers along the side of her face, "of course I like you El, a lot more than I'm supposed to." And with that he stood and walked into his bathroom, Ellie hearing the shower start and the front door open.

"Ellie!! Foods here!" She heard Logan shout.

Sorry for double tagging, I’m reposting this. I tweaked it a little. @desiree-0816 @client-327 @riseandshinelittleblossom @flowerpowell @lovehugsandcandy @omgjasminesimone @queenkaneko @lovemychoices @drakewalkerfantasy @emceesynonymroll

#Colt x mc #colt x ellie #RoD #ns*w #lemon #emichelle

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ladyboltontoyou · 5 years

Text

Arthur Morgan x Reader: What Goes Around Comes Around

Ask: 1. I am literally obsessed with Arthur’s bottom, it is just so nicely shaped 😍 if you could pretty please with a cherry on top do a smut where for days you’ve been teasing Arthur about his ass with sexual comments, ass grabbing and him catching you checking it out until he snaps and give you a real good dicking! My god would be heaven😍💦

2. hi! could you write a fic where arthur decided to spank the reader and really it’s just about arthur marveling over the readers ass?? love ur writing ❤️

Warning: Cursing, smut, butt grabbing, spanking, bondage.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: Sorry this took so long, hope you both enjoy!

The first time he noticed you looking was when the two of you were fishing on the lake near camp. It was a peaceful sunny day and the fish were biting good, you had already caught more than enough but the weather was so nice you decided to stay a little while longer.

He had bent down to pick up a large fish when he caught a glimpse of you blatantly staring at his ass. When you saw he had noticed you just smiled casually like nothing was wrong and looked back over the lake.

He caught you staring a few times after that, it confused him a little but he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered by the attention. But when it escalated to you full-on grabbing his ass he had to ask you what the hell you were doing.

“Sorry, did that make you uncomfortable?” You teased after he questioned you, smiling innocently.

“No, not at all. But I don’t know, uh, why-”

You cut him off. “You’ve got a nice ass. And don’t act like it’s weird, I’ve seen you looking at mine before.”

He furrowed his brows and thought. “Yeah, well, that’s different.”

You placed a hand on your hip and smirked at him. “Is it? How?”

Arthur didn’t know what to say to that. Was it really all that different? Did women like that about men? His whole life he hadn’t even considered that to be an attractive male quality, he mostly thought it was the normal stuff such as muscle, his face, his facial hair, etc. But his ass? He never even thought about that.

Throughout the week your advances became more up-front. You’d made a few comments here and there, even pinning him against the wagon when he was lifting up a box of canned food so you could squeeze his ass with both your hands.

Finally, he had enough of it. You were staying up at a nice hotel in Saint Denis when he snapped. You had made a comment about him having the ass of a god and he turned around and pushed you onto the bed.

“Holy shit.” You laughed nervously when you regained your sense of balance, sitting up. “Was it something I said?”

“Damn right it was.” His voice was different then, you could tell he wanted to fuck you because that’s how he sounded when he was horny. He walked over to you and grabbed you by your knees, yanking you towards him at the edge of the bed.

You let out a squeak of surprise at the roughness of his actions. Arthur had never manhandled you before, he was always so gentle and careful with you. This was a whole new side of him you’d never witnessed before.

“I’ve never met a girl who liked that part of me before.” He started speaking, choosing his words carefully since he still felt strange about talking about it. It felt the same to him as a foot fetish would feel to someone who’d never heard of it before.

You were going to speak but he continued talking. “I gotta admit, you’ve been getting on my nerves lately. What you been doin’ isn’t somethin’ you can just surprise someone with. How’d you like it if I came up to you in camp and did this?”

He palmed you through your pants, his fingers massaging your clit through the fabric. Oh, well, when he put it that way…

When you moaned and laid back down he grinned, taking his hat off to throw on the floor. “Not so funny now, huh girl?”

You didn’t realize you’d been getting him horny every time you touched him. You thought he found it funny or even awkward, the fact that it turned him on was a shock to you. “Sorry, Arthur.” You breathed and opened your eyes to look at him. He looked ready to tear your clothes off and fuck you into oblivion.

He shook his head and hummed. “No, not good enough.” With quick and rough hands he yanked your pants down to your knees, almost pulling you off the bed. You helped him by kicking your legs and they slid right off. “Now, (Y/N).” He muttered as he unbuckled his belt, looking down at your form on the bed in front of him.

Your breathing quickened as you watched him take his belt off. “Yes?”

He grabbed your hands and looped the belt around your wrists, flipping you over to tie them behind your back. The sudden change in positions caught you off guard and you gasped.

“You know I’m a firm believer in an eye for an eye.” He pulled your panties down your legs, not even bothering with your shirt. It was only a night-shirt anyways, he could practically see through the soft fabric.

“And as much as I’d love to leave you here, as wet as you are…” Jesus Christ, who was this man? This couldn’t be your Arthur, no way.

The air felt cold on your bare ass and legs, even colder on your pussy since you were already so wet. You wished he would fuck you already. The fact that he tied your hands behind your back was still so stunning to you, bondage was something he’d never even talked about. So where did this come from?

“I’m not a patient man when it comes to you.” He completed and ran his hands up your legs, squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs before doing the same to your ass. He squeezed each cheek firmly in his hands, spreading them a bit so he could see how wet you were. He cursed and shook his head, letting out a whistle. “If only I had my lasso, I’d love to see you hogtied naked.”

You shivered at his words, a wave of pleasure rippling through your walls sending more cum to prepare you. You loved how eager your body was, you never failed to get wet enough for him. There was never any time where he had to use spit or oil, your body was so attracted to him that your cum alone was more than enough to last you hours.

Arthur was silent for a minute, confusing you. You opened your mouth to ask him what was up but he suddenly smacked your ass, causing you to cry out. “Oh my god!”

“Too much?” He asked and rubbed the area he had smacked, successfully easing the irritation.

“No, do it again. Please.”

He grinned and raised his hand again, making you wait a few seconds before he finally spanked you.

You squealed and threw your head to the side so you could get the hair out of your face. “Harder, come on, you’re holding back on me Arthur. I’ve seen you lift a deadweight black bear, I know you can do better than that.”

Arthur paused and bit his lip, considering what you said. There was no way he could hit you like that. “(Y/N),” He muttered cautiously and adjusted the front of his jeans.

You looked at him as best as you could from your position. “I can take it.”

He shook his head and sighed. He knew there was no way you could, you were asking for something you’d regret. He spanked you again, only a little harder than the last. You made sweet noises and he applied more and more force until he was sure any more would seriously hurt you. If he did any more your skin would get too raw and you’d get blisters. By sparing you that painful process he hoped you’d thank him later.

Soon he couldn’t wait anymore. His cock ached from the lack of attention so he pulled his jeans off and climbed on the bed behind you. You felt his knees on either side of your thighs and you waited as he took the rest of his clothes off. Just as you were about to see what was taking so long he grabbed your knees and spread your legs. You panted in anticipation, you were so ready for him you had made a wet spot on the sheets under your hips.

Arthur lifted your bound arms off your back so he could guide himself inside you. As soon as the tip of his cock touched your lips the both of you moaned. It had been so long since you wanted to fuck him this bad. Your clit was throbbing and burning, so when he finally pushed inside you the tension released and you came.

The feeling of your wet and hot walls clenching around his cock almost made him finish then and there. He could tell he wasn’t going to last long. The foreplay before was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, there was no way he’d last more than a few minutes.

He fucked you fast and hard, pounding into you with a force that made it hard for you to breathe. You couldn’t catch your breath so you had to settle for quick short gasps.

You didn’t think you had another orgasm in you, but sure enough, Arthur fucked one out of you. You pushed your ass up to meet his hips and he cursed, grabbing hold of your hips to hold you still. As you came he hammered into you like his life depended on it.

His orgasm was sudden and long, he managed to draw it out for longer than usual by burying himself balls deep inside of you. Once you finished your orgasm your body fell limp in his grasp.

“Son of a bitch.” Arthur breathed and pulled out, falling beside you on the bed. The two of you were in the exact same state, hearts pounding, covered in sweat, lungs struggling to replenish the oxygen you’d lost.

Once you were able to talk you thanked him for not hitting you as hard as you asked. “I don’t know what came over me to lead me to believe I could handle that.” You laughed as he freed your hands.

Arthur snorted and nodded, watching as you rubbed your wrists. “Yeah, figured you were just talkin’ nonsense.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, processing the amazing sex you just had. Your clit was still throbbing from all the blood that had rushed to it. “Well, maybe I can spank you next.” You teased and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Now, we’ll have to talk about that.”

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mxdanni · 5 years

Text

When Push Comes To Shove. p.1

m!MC’s name is Cheng Lee. Actually, I was calling Cheng MC’s cousin from my f!MC timeline. But ok. Guess, I like that name a lot. I will be adding a Time.dot before every story so that you will know where it fits within the Open Heart timeline.

Time.dot: Around a month of internship at Edenbrook. MC did help Dr Ramsey with the fainted woman on his first day, yet Dolores wasn’t yet brought in. Spoiler alert: she will be admitted but a bit later into the story. The competition hasn’t been announced yet, and everything’s been particularly quiet but for Dr Ramsey keeping the interns on their toes and being his grumpy self.

Summary: when Dr Ramsey assigned MC a terminally ill patient he was rather proud of himself for finding the exact case the young intern would certainly take interest in. After all, Dr Ramsey did read MC’s studies from med school, fascinating yet incomplete finding those were indeed. The patient seemed to fit the pattern. What Dr Ramsey didn’t realise is that it would strike too close to home for MC to handle. Or that MC’s reasons behind studying the exact illness were absolutely opposite from the very start.

He hated him.

“Damn...” Cheng shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. The frown would creep back the moment he stopped massaging his skin, and that simple reaction was tripping Cheng over the edge.

Absolutely. Gutter-ly.

“Just... just burn, why wouldn’t you, Dr Ethan Ramsey?” muttered Cheng and rested his forehead against his knee.

He was sitting curled up like that for some time now, the anger burning deep into his chest. Behind the shelves in the inventory room, it was dark, a little too chilly, but more importantly, Cheng was alone in there. And it was so quiet he could hear his every breath echo off the walls.

“I mean...” Cheng sighed and imagined, “how hard is it to accidentally catch fire? People set themselves on fire every day, right? Like, cooking accidents happen, or they leave candles burning and fall asleep, or that time gran left Hong and Jing in charge of the wok and they added too much sesame oil, and that blazed...”

Cheng shook his head.

“Well, of course, he wouldn’t!” He groaned. “He’s the damn always perfect Mr Right, I know everything Dr Ethan Ramsey, isn’t he?!”

Cheng started at the wall for a few seconds. None of it was right. None of it should have been happening, yet there he was: devastated and heartbroken. Tired. Defeated. And proven wrong.

“I give...” The word up wouldn’t leave his mouth. Cheng found himself gaping like a fish, he choked on the final dot several times. It felt wrong, not just wrong but the betraying everything he ever believed in scope wrong.

“Damn it.” Cheng clenched his fists. “It was everything I ever believed in, wasn’t it? The reason I tried so hard, the reason I got so far. It was to prove him wrong, to prove any other doctor but him could’ve saved her... I would have saved her... and he gave up on her...”

He fell quiet and with a hitching noise held his breath – the door creaked, and a peak of light slid in. A cautious step.

“Dr Lee?”

Forks. Just the person he wanted to see! Cheng grimaced, a mere moment away from revealing himself. But then again... he was behind all the shelves, curled on the floor in the furthest darkest corner. No one could possibly see him in there from the door, right? He just needed to sit tight and make no sound.

“I know you’re somewhere in there, rookie,” sounded the always confident voice. Cocky. Cheng hated it. “Unless you’ve learnt to walk through the walls, which would explain how you have managed to avoid me all day when I have been looking for you all over the hospital.” Dr Ramsey walked in and quietly closed the door behind him. “Or you are simply a ghost.”

Cheng blinked, his breath catching in his throat. Did Dr Ramsey, the Dr Ramsey make a joke? A pretty bad one, but still.

Oh, wait, and did he also say he was looking for him? For Cheng, all day?

“Why?” Cheng couldn’t help it, the word left his lips on its own.

“Oh, there you are, rookie,” said Dr Ramsey and turned to his left to go around he shelving. “I am not talking to myself after all.”

It was too dark for Cheng to see, and he reminded himself he never cared enough to even raise his head and look at the other. Was that a faint smile tugging just on the corner of Dr Ramsey’s lips, or an amused chuckle the doctor shoved down, carefully masked under his usual neutral tone? Cheng would never know.

"And probably, shouldn’t regret never caring enough to know, right?” he mused to himself. That idea distracted him from the anger flaring up again. “It is about him, not me! Looked for so that he wouldn’t look bad, huh?” Cheng clenched his jaws to keep silent. "Gran brought me better than that,” he chanted in his head until it got stuck.

Not giving Dr Ramsey a piece of his mind at that point felt intense.

And then the last thing Cheng ever expected came about to be.

“What happened?” he heard Dr Ramsey ask. Softly. In the tone Cheng never heard the doctor use before, in the tone Cheng never imagined the doctor was even capable of speaking in.

Cheng stared as the Dr Ramsey kneeled next to him on one knee, his hand reaching out for his shoulder. Cheng stared as fingertips grazed his white coat, fingers curled a little and…. Never sunk into his shoulder. Dr Ramsey’s hand hovered just over his shoulder, yet not touching it. Not exactly anyway.

It didn’t feel that way. Cheng mused at his odd reaction, Dr Ramsey uneasily glanced from his own hand to Cheng’s face and back at his hand. And kept it there, hovering but a hair’s width over Cheng’s shoulder as if he couldn’t decide.

To Cheng that felt more of a firm grasp. A hold he could bring himself to wrench away from. Too… strangely comforting. Or was it the look Dr Ramsey gave him? Cheng wondered how much the other could see from his face in the darkness.

“I can’t save him,” whispered Cheng and, finally, looked away. Wrench his gaze away for what it was worth, broke from that whatever spell that kept his eyes locked with Dr Ramsey’s.

The other quirked his eyebrow. Expecting to go on, urging Cheng to.

“The patient,” muttered Cheng. Almost not through his teeth, he shoved the building anger deeper down his throat and answered as calmly as he could manage. “The patient you gave me, Steve Collins, aged 63, divorced, senior resident... I can’t save him. He’s got two months left.”

“I know.”

“You know!?” Cheng exclaimed, shoved the hand away and jumped to his feet. "You know– ugh, I bloody knew it!” He was shouting and hovered over the confused Dr Ramsey who just happen to stumble back and onto the floor at the impact. "You know! You knew and found the perfect way to torture me– you torture everyone around you, is that your guilty pleasure?! Do you actually enjoy seeing everyone around you in pain?!”

Cheng lost it. He was going overboard, he knew it, understood it, sensed it… Couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to stop it, or take any word back.

“Why do you hate me so much?! Wait, don’t answer that, it’s not about me, is it? It never was about me, I mean, who am I for the Dr Ethan Ramsey to consider, to even notice, right?!” Cheng flexed his fists only to clench them back by his sides. “Why do you hate everybody but yourself!”

It wasn’t a question. Cheng didn’t care to hear the answer.

It was when all anger seemed to drench through his vent, and Cheng was gasping for breath, his eyes darting hectic around the room that… His attention snapped to Dr Ramsey. Still sitting on the floor for whatever possible reason, eyebrows raised and eyes opened wide, expression… well, more or less composed. Mildly surprised arrogance Cheng might have called it. If it wasn’t for the look the doctor was giving him. Confused, lost.

But more so hurt.

“Oh, wow,” Cheng thought and blinked a few times, squinting into the darkness of the room to take in every detail of that expression. “So he does have feelings after all. Uh-huh. And I’ve just hurt them… Guess I’m dead now. Am I dead now? He’ll chew me whole and spit out in shattered bits.”

Cheng looked away. Dr Ramsey kept silent. Cheng glanced back down on the doctor, their eyes meeting half-way. Now, that was way beyond awkward. Cheng clasped his arms over his chest and hunched his shoulders, a nervous gesture to anyhow protect himself from what was coming.

After what felt like an hour, Dr Ramsey cleared his throat. Cheng jumped backwards and whirled his head in the direction of the door. Fleeing never seemed like a better option.

“Cheng, wait!”

It was the sound of his name slipping from Dr Ramsey’s lips that stopped him. Cheng froze: facing the door, his back turned to the other.

"Uh, that is, Dr Lee…”

- -

Next part !!

- -

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