#i have no energy to write or do pretty much anything but... imagine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fatuismooches · 8 months

Note

I want to see each harbinger with a touchy lover/lover whose love language is physical affection 😭😭

Imagine the Harbingers when your love language is physical affection.

Pierro is learning to adjust. He probably doesn’t have the time or energy for large displays of affection. He’s already very exhausted from his heavy workload and life itself so lots of touching would be a lot for him. But let’s not forget this man is touch-starved. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say you’re the only thing that brings him happiness in this corrupted world. After the fall of Khaenri’ah, he probably isolated himself from a lot of things in order to focus on furthering the Fatui. So since you are really the link that reminds him that even he has a fraction of humanity left, Pierro does crave your touch. Just differently than how you might show it. He would enjoy simple physical contact for an extended period of time if that makes sense. Like, not anything overbearing, but tiny. You can pull up a chair and nuzzle yourself into his arm and shoulder while he works. It won’t bother him. You can keep your hand on his thigh as you do your own thing. You can try to hold his hand hostage, but it won’t work for very long, though it’ll give him a tiny laugh. Though, once he’s finally out of the office and has free time (which is extremely rare) he won’t say no to lots of cuddles in bed. Truly the only way he can relax. You didn’t hear this from me but he enjoys a damn good massage. Just start rubbing his shoulders in the right places and he’ll be putty in your arms.

Dottore has grown to like it, enjoy it even, and you know what his favorite thing to do is? Initiate it himself first when he sees you approaching so he can catch you off guard and then tease you. Assuming you’ve been with him for centuries since the Akademiya, by now he would have become accustomed to your touch. Sometimes he doesn’t even react when you wrap your arms around his neck (he’s a busy man, you know? He can’t always pay attention to you despite how much you complain in his ear! Though the segments will happily fulfill that role for you.) Touching the scars on his face will always make him stiffen, Zandik will never get used to that even though they don’t hurt anymore. The best time to get touchy with him is when he’s sitting at his desk writing or whatever, since you can easily cuddle him on his lap. Though make sure you’re prepared for it, this is Il Dottore after all. As much as Dottore likes it when you try to challenge him with that intellectual mind of yours, he also loves it when you’re quiet. If you can make sure you stay still for the most part and quiet, his lap and chest are all yours. He might even forget you’re there since he gets so caught up in his work but don’t get surprised when he breaks his pens… and then accidentally touches your clothes with an ink-covered hand. And don’t blame him if you wake up with cramps and sores… it’s well worth it though!

Akademiya Zandik is the embodiment of “what the hell are you doing get away from me.” And literally, everyone knows this, he does have a notorious reputation after all. There was one time another student placed their hand on his shoulder and he physically recoiled and looked as if he just got burnt. Everyone makes sure not to bump into him in the hallways. Pretty much all of the physical contact he’s had was when he was beaten as a child, so he’s grown a hatred and discomfort for it. Zandik even despises brushing hands with the store clerks and merchants. He can’t fathom the fact that touch can be comforting and even healing. He can’t hope to understand the idea that hands are used to love, not only to hurt. So if your love language is physical affection, well… you’re going to have to hold off on your plans for a long time. I know it hurts, but be happy you managed to get into a relationship with this guy first. You persevered a lot, right? You’ll just have to persevere some more. It takes a long time for him to warm up to your touch, much less constant touchiness. And don’t push it. Be patient. The first time you two hold hands is monumental. In due time the two of you will be cuddling together after a long day of performing illegal experiments behind the Akademiya’s back.

Columbina wholeheartedly enjoys it of course! She is an affectionate queen herself! Bina can easily sense you creeping up behind her to trap her in a hug, and she happily lets it happen. She will really just let you do what you want, and she loves how you two have the same love languages since it’s a win for everyone (minus the Harbingers, Pierro has to tell her to focus during the meetings and missions instead of clinging onto you.) It is funny to think that you two actually have schedules - first, you’re holding and pampering her, and then she holds and pampers you… yes, a very beneficial relationship, and no one is left out of the affection and love. If you want to hold hands for every activity, go ahead! Honestly, you two could glue your hands together and daily life wouldn’t be affected too much since that’s how it already is like… how cute. Though I hope you have good shoulder strength because Columbina will literally drop half her body over you for an extended period of time. Cuddles of course are heavenly, though more often than not, you two end up in a tangle of limbs and have fallen off the bed with the blankets, trying to separate. Oh and if you’re touching her wings? Make sure to be very gentle this time! (Otherwise, she may playfully bat you with them but accidentally put too much force into it and send you a good few feet away.)

Capitano is very confused at first but will go along with it happily. The tall and romantically awkward man doesn’t understand why you’re always insisting on holding or touching hands, but when you look so happy and smile so brightly, he could never refuse you. He doesn’t understand when you plop yourself on his lap out of nowhere, or when you cuddle into his chest, but he doesn’t dare move a muscle. He’s not even sure what a “love language” is in the first place until you mentioned it offhandedly once, and then the next day he’s reading a very detailed book about it in his private office. Capitano’s face is completely neutral but inside he’s secretly very touched and honored by your love language. Like, he knew you liked him, but this just solidifies how much you truly loved him. For some reason, he treats this as revolutionary news even though you two are married. Sometimes it doesn’t process that someone as lovely and amazing as you can love a monster like him. After acknowledging how much physical affection means to you he will open himself to you whenever he’s not busy. He will make sure you’re comfortable and cozy, because if you get cramps, or get too cold, or too hot, or whatever possible discomfort, he won’t forgive himself. Is he taking tips from the couple's advice book? Yes. Touch him all you want, he won’t be able to reciprocate very well other than a pat on the head and back or two but don’t worry, he’s learning.

Scaramouche will act like it’s the worst thing that’s ever been bestowed upon him… initially. Human touch is something that has a long, not-so-good history with him considering all his betrayals. Just the mere thought of it sickens him sometimes, he doesn’t think he could ever get used to it again. Though, the puppet has gone through many stages, many changes in his life, you being one of the major ones. A big change usually is accompanied by many small ripples in one’s life, and that is exactly what you do for him. If you’ve managed to make it to this point, a relationship with him, you two have probably touched a few times. But only a few. It is not something he’s accustomed to. So you will have to rein in your need to have your hands all over him and your desire for tons of smooches. Taking it slow with physical affection is key, but you will be rewarded. Scaramouche will slowly begin to tolerate your affection, behind closed doors, however. The only affection that happens in public is when he’s jealous and pulls you into his arms. Toleration turns to him internally begging for more, however, he will never voice that out loud. The Harbinger longs to feel you hold him from behind, as he mumbles curses and how you were so needy under his breath. He hopes that you’ll take matters into your own hands and kiss his cheeks so he doesn’t have to ask. He wishes for you to caress his chest, the place where his heart is vacant. In your arms, maybe it’s okay for Kunikuzushi to be the vulnerable and emotional puppet he wishes he wasn’t… But don’t get too cocky. He will still dodge your attempts at hugs and watch as you comedically trip over your own feet, and then walk away and softly smile at your whining and pouting behind his back.

Wanderer already knows how this goes. After all, you have forgotten him, but he could never forget you. He has every part of you etched into his eternal memories, your touchy habits, your kisses, your hugs, how you always try to sneak some hand-holding in to see if he wouldn’t notice. And of course, some things never change. After you two have gotten together again, you still do the exact same affectionate touches as before, as if nothing has changed at all. But he has changed. He is no longer Scaramouche, or Kabukimono, or whatever names he had called himself before. Wanderer seldom complains or makes multiple comments about your affection, nor will he be begging for it frequently. Instead, he has a more neutral-positive take on your affection. When you need him and his touch, he will be there silently. And so he will let you drunkenly mumble into his shoulder and cling to him in the tavern, not caring if that Scribe and the other blonde boy are looking at him. He’ll let you give him a peck on the cheek as thanks for helping you shop even if the mercenary and village leader are chuckling at the sight. He’ll let you greet him with a great big hug even if Sumeru’s Archon smiles knowingly at the sight. Wanderer will let you indulge, for he thinks that you deserve at least that for everything he’s put you through.

Kabukimono is admittedly confused at first, but in no way declines your advances. Your touch makes him feel quite happy after all. But, is it normal for one to be so touchy with their partner? He has seen other couples display such affection, but you seem to provide it far more than the average person! Whether it’s just a mere brush of fingers stroking him or a hand on his thigh, you always seem to be touching him affectionately. The puppet wonders if there is any real meaning behind these lingering touches that he does not understand yet. Surely there must be, right? He knows that some humans have odd habits, as you would put it. But nope - it is simply “how you show love,” your words echoing throughout his mind. How you show love is through your soft and gentle touches, your rough tackling when you’re feeling devious, the playful pulling of his cheeks, and always finding an excuse to kiss him. And he can’t say that he dislikes it! Though, it leaves Kabukimono to wonder - how does he show love?

Sandrone has no clue what to do or make of the situation. Physical affection is something that she is really not familiar with, even if the relationship has been going on for a long time. And someone who is huge on it? Oh boy, you’re going to kill her. I bet once, her face probably got stained with grease or something since she works with machines a lot, and you moved to wipe it off and her face just turned completely blank and still. Just completely unmoving, her hands literally frozen in the position they were in as your fingers tenderly brushed against her cheek. You may or may not have broken Sandrone because for the first time in your life, you heard her stutter, and then she avoided you for the next few days. So, not good at all really, but then again not in a bad way. She won’t get mad at you exactly, but she will not respond or reciprocate because she genuinely doesn’t know how. It is a super strange feeling to her, liking someone else’s touch. Do try not to do it while she’s working, because she will get distracted and then mess up on her project, and then proceed to lose it and then go turn some poor souls into dolls to let off steam from how ill you make her feel. Will she ever get used to it or get better at reciprocating? Well, I’m sure you’ll be staying with her for a while, so you’ll find out down the line.

La Signora enjoys it to a normal extent. There are times when she will be possessive and demand that you shower her with complete and utter adoration which you happily agree to. Though there are times when she will have to decline your offer - she knows you are a needy lover, Signora teases, but she too has work to do. And how will she focus on her duties if you are constantly luring her attention to you instead of where it needs to be? Signora promises to give you what you want later. Though, you will be touching Rosalyne a lot more than you think. Why? Because you help her with her own routine. You will help her do or undo her hair, which means rubbing her scalp gently and combing her hair. (Be careful! She will get annoyed if you pull on it too hard.) You love doing her nails for her, because that means you get to hold her hand for a long time. Please, brush your fingers softly against her face as you adjust the black mask on her face. Please, trace along her collarbones as you put on the black neckpiece that runs down to her chest. Signora doesn’t particularly think much of your super affectionate nature, she just knows it’s a part of you and will even use it to her advantage. You give really good massages, she’s noticed.

Pantalone feels his smile grow every time you unabashedly touch him, because he too will be physically affectionate with no shame. I don’t think you’ll win against this man because he’s just that good. You’re kissing him? Well, now he’s got you trapped in his arms littering kisses all over your body. You’re hugging or holding his hand? Well, now you’re being held hostage by him because he’s not letting go for anything. Every single time you’re touchy with him he will turn it around on you and be the one caressing you instead. All with a damned teasing smile as if this doesn’t fluster him the tiniest bit. Pantalone is the kind of guy to have his hand on your thigh under the table at every chance he gets. He will have an arm linked around yours at every social gathering or party there is. He will have you on his lap while doing anything possible - in his office doing paperwork, reading a book, even merely having a regular conversation. I don’t know, he’ll tell you about Snezhnaya’s economy if you want. You get my point. So, in conclusion, he is really one of the best to have your hands all over, so long as you’re prepared to receive what you give.

Arlecchino doesn’t really know what to do… she didn’t even know it was possible for someone to be so touchy-feely. You cling to her more than the children do! She’s rather indifferent to it, she won’t reject it, but she won’t exactly encourage it either. She is a woman who likes her personal space, after all. Though at times she does enjoy your kisses and hugs, sometimes she just needs to be by herself, and your constant affection can be distracting… Though, Arlie does like it in moderate amounts. For example, coming home after long days to be pampered and kissed all over by you. As much as she looks unsettlingly composed and unaffected, even she feels the weight of her responsibilities sometimes. When you two finally have the time to cuddle she won’t be irritated at how you won’t let go, and will stroke your hair as you’re buried in her chest. All Arlecchino asks is that you don’t do it in public, because even the orphans are beginning to whisper about how “Father is oh so lovey-dovey and mushy-gushy with [Name]” and she really can’t deal with that right now.

Childe is a cuddle bear himself, so expect to be evenly matched and also appreciated for your love language. Although Childe doesn’t really show it or acknowledge it himself, he is probably a bit touch-starved. That’s what falling into the Abyss and joining the Fatui as a kid does to you. So if you want to try and squeeze him to death affectionately, go ahead! He will be accepting the challenge and doing the same to you. If you have the need to always be holding his hand or gripping a piece of his clothing, he will let you. Even if you’re in the streets of Liyue, onlookers passing by, or in the privacy of your own home while he’s cooking (he will literally cook with one hand, don’t test him.) If you have the sudden urge to kiss him silly out of nowhere, by all means, he welcomes it. And he will reciprocate it ten times harder. He finds it rather adorable, to be honest. I’m sorry but he definitely tickles you as revenge if you glomp him too hard or something. It’s all in good fun though! Ajax is not one to waste your affectionate habits, whatever little time he has with you will be spent wholeheartedly loving you to the fullest.

3K notes · View notes

midnightorchids · 27 days

Note

More soft Jason ideas since you deserve it and your wonderful and supper cool Girldad!Jason BRRROOOOOOO Oh my goddddddd ok like- - Jason is the kind of dad who always has music playing in the house, he mindlessly sways and hums along as he makes morning (or night-time) pancakes for you and his little girl. She'll come running up to him, her thick black hair tangled over her face, and pull on his pant leg. He'll sweep her up into his arms, her small head fitting perfectly against his chest as she watches him make breakfast, still somewhat asleep and aloof. He'll start bopping along to the music with her little hands around his neck, filling up the kitchen with shrieks of laughter and he peppers her soft cheeks with kisses. - I feel like you and him would like in a beach house, somewhere away from the city and his old job as Red Hood. Your daughter would bring home buckets of pretty rocks and sea glass that Jason keeps in jars along the living room windowsills. He has to dump some back onto the shore every time he sees her washing the new rocks and shells on the front porch. - After long summer days of playing and wrestling in the waves, you would all curl up for a post-beach nap. Smelling like salt with the prick of the sun settling into your tired bones. Your daughter would fit perfectly between you two. Jasons hand behind his head with his other wrapped firmly around you and his little girl. - Get's his daughter obsessed with reading just as much as he is. Would build her book-shelf after book-self as her collection of story-books and middle grade fairy books expands. - Helps his daughter roast marsh mellows during the beach bonfires you guys have when Roy and his daughter visit. Your daughter and Lian are best friends- playdates once a week kind of thing. - When she's little, he'll always have his daughter on his knee during big family dinners. He let's her eat anything off of his plate, keeping his arm around her as he talks with Dick. - Overall, just- every-time he falls asleep next to you he feels like crying into your shoulder, unable to thank you enough for bringing such a precious perfect bundle of laughter into his life. Huge 'my wife showed me how to love and my daughter showed me how to forgive energy lmao.

I want night time pancakes with Jason and my little baby girl wtf!!! Also, thank you so much for sending this in. I love it and I literally fail to understand how you pull up with the most amazing scenarios every time, I’m actually in love with your writing!! You’re amazing!

Anyways lol!! I’m gonna be honest, I don’t want to have biological children but for Jason… I’d do it, no hesitation. He’d be the most amazing girl dad, I love him so so so much.

I’m not sure if people have already said this before but can you imagine him learning how to do your daughter’s hair!! He has a YouTube hair tutorial playing on the TV as your daughter sits in between his legs. He’s got bobby pins in between his teeth and hair ties around his wrist. He’s using a small comb to gently brush through her little curls.

He’s learning how to braid her hair and he’s having some difficulty, but he’s a persistent man, and like he always tells his little girl, practice makes perfect! He will sit there for days, hours upon hours, trying to make the most flawless set of Dutch braids. Once he’s succeeded at his craft, he’ll admire his work and will tell his daughter to go show you his skills. And oh my goodness, how adorable does she look showing off her father’s braiding skills!!

I also saw a quote on Instagram earlier today and it said that “tenderness is in the hands” and I immediately thought of Jason. There is no one with gentler hands than Jason. His fingers may be rough and his knuckles might be permanently bruised from his past, but when he interlocks his hands with his baby girl, they are the most delicate and warmest hands she has ever felt.

He will run his fingers through her hair, as she lays her tiny head against his chest and he’ll read her favourite stories. She’ll take his hands out of her hair and just play with his fingers. Trace little shapes on his palm, measure her small hand against his big, calloused ones. It’ll melt Jason’s heart and he’ll feel like crying. There will be days where he needs to stop reading and take a minute to appreciate the tenderness of the moment, without completely crumbling.

Also, I kind of hate to say it, but it’s so true. Jason would totally try to heal his daddy issues by being the best possible parent.

He’d treat his daughter like an actual princess and not just in terms of materialistic things. He’d be there for her in every circumstance; he’d be the best moral support and the best cheerleader anyone could ask for.

If your daughter plays any sports or plays an instrument, any thing really, he’d always be there to encourage her and comfort her when it started to become tough. He’d attended every game, every practice, every performance. Like I said, the best cheerleader.

Basically long story short, I’d die for soft, girl dad Jason.

#fem!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #batfam

323 notes · View notes

blkkizzat · 4 months

Text

꒰ა 𝘖𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢: 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴 ໒꒱

a/n: IDK if this will be a series yet but I really wanted to turn the tables on the JJK men and write a drabble on what it would be like returning that alpha feral energy to them lmfao. for now this a one off! I may do more in the future. cw: trueform!Sukuna, canonverse, y/n being feral, dirty talk, fantasizing, intrusive thoughts and, of course, objectifying Sukuna's thighs. crack drabble lol wc: 925 Black fem coded but no descriptors.

You were with Sukuna in his throne room. The one task you were given was to stand next to him, look pretty and be silent while he handled business with the various cursed and sorcerer associates who requested an audience with him.

You fidgeted as you stood to his left, never good at remaining still.

Uruame stood to his right, stoic as ever.

But you did try your best to behave, eyes roaming around the room to find any source of focus.

There.

Your eyes widened before slightly narrowing as you honed in on your target, now perfectly entranced by–

Sukuna’s thighs.

You loved Sukuna’s entire body, but most of all you loved his thighs. No love couldn’t even really quantify your affections –you were obsessed.

Man spread out on his throne, a thick muscular thigh was exposed from Sukuna’s robes as he lounged back looking uninterested in whatever the curses in front of him were speaking of.

Unconsciously you chew your lower lip, letting your mind wander. You easily get lost in your thoughts of Sukuna's thighs.

Your mouth watered at the way the well-defined muscles beneath his skin created a sculpted landscape. It was a feast for your eyes and you didn’t fail to notice each subtle flex of movement they made.

Even the thigh still clothed in the fabric of his robe clung to the Herculean contours of the sinewy curves beneath them, rippling beneath the fabric in a way that made moisture pool in your panties.

The wide breadth of his thighs flaunted his sheer physical prowess, a testament to being The King of Curses.

It would feel oh, so good to relish the way his muscles flexed beneath you. Your hips would spread open near to the point of straining as you imagine vigorously riding his thigh.

Unintentionally you were turning yourself on more than you even realized.

Your thoughts spiral further to picture Sukuna making you get on your knees after. He would look down on you with the most devious grin as he commanded your tongue to clean up the sizable mess your filthy lil’ cunt made on his thigh.

Your stomach tightened at the thought of tracing the prominent vein on his inner thigh all the way up until you reached—-

A small whimper escaped you.

Shit.

Sukuna’s eyes immediately snapped to you, raising a hand to silence his cursed subjects speaking.

“What is it, Y/N?”

Sukuna was annoyed you couldn’t even manage to stay still for a few hours as he had long sensed your restlessness. However, the current level of distress he read on your features had him curious as to what changed.

“It’s nothing, my King.”

Sukuna was unmoved.

“I don't ask questions twice, Y/N.”

“Um, but it’s really nothing much at all… I-I, well…It’s just that uh, I was thinking…”

“Spit it the fuck out woman I don’t have all da—

“—you thicc as fuck Kuna!”

Utter silence.

A pin could drop and it would sound like the acoustics of a concert stadium.

Silence in general has always made you feel awkward and this was really awkward.

Sukuna wasn’t saying anything, likely processing your statement and the fact you interrupted him to make it.

More nervous than ever you couldn’t help what proceeded to spill forth, a dam of words broken as you attempted to explain yourself further.

“I-I mean your thighs daddy, you too thicc! You got the yams, thunder thighs, them wupples, hamhocks, you a real thighrannosaurus rex ,a thunty king even– y-you just thicc as fuck! Like damn daddy, ya know!?”

The reality of what you were saying didn’t hit you until you had finished and you slapped your hands over your mouth, your eyes wider than saucers.

You had been unable to be able to control the word vomit you’ve been oppressing.

Although you did have to admit in finally confessing your obsession you felt like a sinner absolved and a weight lifted from you.

No lies were told though, so who could really blame you?

Sukuna was still silent. His expression unreadable.

The curses in front of Sukuna are frozen. Worried that a single move would cause his ire to explode at them reducing them to mere molecules for even witnessing whatever had just occurred.

Uruame’s face, oddly the most expressive one of the bunch, was clearly questioning what in the ever loving fuck was wrong with you. But more than anything Uruame was puzzled as to why you were still even being allowed to take breaths.

More silence followed.

Yet after what seemed like a millennia to everyone else in the room, Sukuna finally spoke. His tone was calm, yet icier than the frozen temperatures outside his palace.

“You know how easily I can kill you, right Y/N?”

You nearly had to bite your own tongue off as your intrusive thoughts had zero regard for your own life and threatened to bubble up out of your throat again.

Honestly? If we're being real, you wanted nothing more than to drop to your knees and stick your head up his robes.

You would gladly die if it was from his massive thighs suffocating you, busting your skull like a tiny grape.

But then you wouldn’t be able to enjoy riding Sukuna’s thighs anymore and you didn’t want an afterlife where you couldn’t access Sukuna’s thighs.

Reluctantly, yet obediently, you gulped them down, swallowing any more embarrassment you could bring to The Curse King at this moment.

“Yes of course, dadd– my King.”

“Then stand there and shut the fuck up brat.”

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2024. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

a/n: when writing this I thought, what would @ryomens-vixen do? and here we are. lol. next up: still working on lactation kink yakuza!toji fic, ceo!gojo and nerd!geto fics.

tags: @littlemochabunni @biscuitsngravie @halobuns @honeeslust

Reblog to objectify Sukuna's yams but comments and likes are always appreciated!

849 notes · View notes

copper-16 · 5 months

Text

did she feel better than me?

A continuation/parallel of girlgenius1111's work titled "do you want my attention?"

Mapi makes the decision to rile Ingrid up with the help of Alexia's girlfriend. And she gets exactly what she wants...in due time.

[A/N: My brain simply couldn’t get out of its head what Mapi and Ingrid did after Alexia and r left the club, so I reached out to girlgenius1111 and got permission to write about the same story but from Ingrid and Mapi’s perspective! Please, please go read their fic first mostly because it is phenomenal and also a little bit because this will make more sense if you have read that first - I have it linked at the bottom of this!

This is literally eight thousand words of sex. I'm normally a pretty vanilla person (nothing wrong with that yk just personal preference!) so this isn’t the spiciest or craziest thing in the world by any means, but it's still spice and not much else.

Also I couldn't make up my mind about who would be more possessive over who so this is giving major switch energy...I plead the fifth I'm indecisive!]

The thing was that the last few weeks had been hectic, to say the least. The schedule for Barcelona was packed with league matches combined with Champions League games to be played, and then for Ingrid, national team camp only added to that already frantic schedule.

But Mapi was still not playing for her national team, which meant that she had been left with two weeks to herself before Ingrid had gotten home that Sunday, just a few nights ago.

Two weeks to miss Ingrid.

Two weeks to miss…certain things about her. Two weeks of waking up alone and going to bed by herself, left with far too much time to imagine exactly all the ways she wanted the Norwegian.

Mapi wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was getting a little bit desperate. It had been weeks since they had done anything really, and this past week she could feel herself getting wet just when the Norwegian looked at her a little hard while they were with the team.

The week leading up to their Friday game was a lot, with a Champions League game on Tuesday and added practices considering that they had the upcoming weekend off. Ingrid had arrived back from Oslo late on Sunday night, and with the chaos of the schedule, they hadn’t had time to do anything other than a hot makeout session before leaving for training one morning, which had left Mapi more wrecked and wet than she cared to admit.

Between herself and the other girls on the team, they managed to wear Alexia and the captains down to the point where they all agreed to go out to the club after the Friday game. It was a surprising move from the Barcelona captain, but when she takes one look at her girlfriend’s outfit, at the way her eyes paused at the lace covered chest, at the way it pulled across taut and supple skin, all of the girls can’t help but smirk in understanding at one another.

Mapi had dressed the part as well, knowing exactly what she wanted to come out of this night. She had days, weeks really, to come up with the perfect plan, and she wasn’t going to let this night go to waste without completing it. She had on black leather pants that she knew made her ass look good, and a maroon corset top cinched over her chest.

Ingrid was wearing a sapphire colored crop top coupled with a pair of black jeans that Mapi couldn’t stop staring at as they walked into the club. But she needed to focus, she had a plan to complete and it wasn’t Ingrid who needed to agree to it in order for it to work. No sooner had they made it through the door than the defender was pulling their teammate toward the bar, Ingrid and Alexia watching their respective girlfriends go with raised eyebrows, already slightly suspicious.

But the two taller women say nothing, getting a table before they all order their drinks. Ingrid can’t help but look surprised when Alexia orders a gin and tonic, after the Norwegian had rattled off her request for a negroni.

“Drinking tonight, Ale?” The dark haired midfielder asked, clearly more than a little amused. But Alexia just scowled, her gaze not meeting Ingrid’s, but rather still trained toward the bar, where Mapi and her girlfriend were standing, clearly in conversation.

“I feel like the night calls for it,” Alexia murmured carefully as the two Barcelona players turn back toward the table where their partners are, both of their girlfriends greeting them warmly.

The two women stand at the table for maybe thirty seconds before they are headed toward the dance floor, a pair of hazel and green eyes tracking their every move. Caro and Patri could only watch in complete amusement as Alexia and Ingrid don’t even bother to try conversing anymore, simply too enamored with their respective girlfriend to care about trying to seem civilized. None of the women at the table are dancers per say, but the two midfielders are staring at their girlfriends like they might be considering it, given how aggressively their eyes are tracking the women.

Alexia, surprisingly, seemed to have less restraint than Ingrid for once, the Spaniards hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles were beginning to turn white. When her girlfriend turned toward her, her ass pressed back into Mapi, the captain shakes her head slightly, but she only receives a nod that looks suspiciously like a smile in response.

Ingrid was slightly more composed than her fellow midfielder, but it still wasn’t hard to spot the fact that she was staring at Mapi, her gaze intent. The club was busy, and it was a gay club, so to say that the two dancers had eyes on them would have been an understatement, but they only had eyes for their respective partner, too busy trying to make them jealous to notice the abundance of women watching them.

It’s when Mapi’s hand reaches around to practically palm at her teammate's chest as she turns her head into her hair to speak to her in such an intimate way that Alexia finally snaps, Ingrid right along with her. In reality, the top of her thumb only made it far enough up to graze at the underside of her chest, but that feels like semantics to the Barcelona midfielders right now.

“Come to dance?” Alexia is asked by her girlfriend as she presses into their space, and the blonde looks nearly murderous. Ingrid isn’t really paying attention to them though, far too focused on letting her eyes rove up and down Maria, who is pointedly choosing not to look at her in favor of the discussion, or rather lack thereof, that is happening in front of them.

“I think we’ve had enough dancing,” the Spaniard grits out as she pulls her girlfriend flush with her side, not even bothering with a goodbye before the two are moving through the club, leaving the Spaniard and Norwegian alone.

It’s only at this point that Mapi finally lets her eyes meet Ingrid, and she can’t help but bite her lip to force back a whimper at the look that Ingrid is giving her, at the intensity of it. She entirely misses the way that a triumphant smile is thrown back at her by her teammate, clearly thrilled that their plan has worked, in favor of holding Ingrid’s green eyes, which could only be described as smoldering.

She was completely entranced, didn’t even care about the fact that everyone around them was dancing, can’t do anything but hold Ingrid’s gaze, can’t tear her eyes away from the green ones watching her so closely.

It’s only when Ingrid looks away, clearing her throat lightly that Mapi feels herself suck in a breath, unaware that she had even been holding it to begin with.

“Dance?” Ingrid asks lightly, her tone too innocent and unassuming given the circumstances. It honestly throws the defender for a loop, but she chooses to follow along. She expected for Ingrid to get possessive in the way that Alexia had, but it’s clear that the Norwegian is playing a bit longer of a game then the blonde captain had been able to manage.

“Sure,” Mapi acquiesces, and Ingrid turns on a dime, pressing her entire body back into the Spaniard, who grips it with ease. They’ve been together for long enough to know each other's bodies well, perhaps even better than their own.

And still, Ingrid pressed against her feels like the most natural thing in the world for the brunette. Dancing to make their respective girlfriends jealous was fine if not a bit awkward, tense and tight, the knowledge that neither of them really wanted to be doing it other than to make someone jealous, not allowing them to really enjoy it.

But it isn’t like that with the Norwegian, quite the opposite in fact. Her hips move in time with Mapi, her back completely flush with the Spaniard’s front. The brunette’s hands reach around to grasp at Ingrid’s hips, pulling her impossibly closer as she ground into the dark haired woman, trying not to let out a whimper when the Norwegian arched her back.

They’ve been dancing together for a few minutes when Ingrid finally places one of her hands over Mapi’s, pulling it up and over her stomach and chest, reminiscent of something that the Spaniard did just a few minutes ago with another woman.

Mapi swallowed as Ingrid brought her hand up high and higher, until it was fully on top of her right breast, and she squeezed Mapi’s hand lightly, the defender's hand pressed under the midfielders meaning that she ended up gently kneading the Norwegian’s chest at the action. The Spaniard lets out a harsh breath at the feeling, at the action itself but also the publicity of it.

Ingrid loved her girlfriend very much, but she admittedly was no longer huge on such sexual public displays. And it had been months since she was this forward in public, and it was turning Mapi on so much that it was practically painful. She remembered the early days of their relationship, when she had been so attracted and desperate for the defender that they couldn’t even make it home, but rather had to fuck in the club bathroom, the Norwegian’s hand clamped over her mouth to keep her from getting them caught.

Alexia’s jealousy might have burned hot and bright, but Ingrid’s simmered. It continued even when Mapi’s hands were all over her body in wildly inappropriate ways, low and threatening, more contained but no less deadly when it finally did strike.

Ingrid threw her head back on Mapi’s shoulder, her back once again arching as she tilted her head toward the Spaniard, her nose brushing against the defender's neck before she spoke. Her voice was thick and low, and Mapi felt her legs involuntarily clench together at the feeling. But the words out of her mouth are ones that the brunette wasn’t expecting, and it causes her to do a bit of a double take.

“Did she feel better than me?” Ingrid husks, and Mapi stills against her, her expression jumping in surprise. It seemed like an outrageous question, with the simplest of answers.

Never.

“What?” She asks, the surprise evident in her tone. It’s at this that Ingrid pulls away entirely, spinning around until her front is pressed into Mapi’s, their chests pressed together as she looks at the defender, their faces barely inches apart. It’s then that the Spaniard sees the jealousy, painted into the lines of her girlfriend's face.

“I said. Did. She. Feel. Better. Than. Me?” Ingrid spits out, each individual word holding a note of malice, and Mapi’s eyes narrow as she presses further into Ingrid, their lips brushing together, not caring who saw them.

“No.” Mapi answers plainly, because it’s an answer that doesn’t need to be undressed to be completely true.

“Prove it,” Ingrid snaps in response, and one of Mapi’s eyebrows lifts in surprise at her tone, but she pulls back slightly before nodding, grabbing the Norwegian’s hand and intending to lead them toward the exit, when the midfielder changes their direction, headed toward the bathrooms instead.

“Not there. Here. Right now,” Ingrid insists, and Mapi genuinely can’t believe that she’s hearing these words come out of her girlfriend's mouth, but she also doesn’t complain in the slightest. If anything, it’s more of a relief to know that the Norwegian still wants her this much, in this way. Not that Mapi doubted that very often, but occasionally when times like these last few weeks occurred, it was an inevitability.

Ingrid and Mapi had been together for nearly two years now, and the Spaniard sometimes wondered if she would ever grow tired of this, if their sex life would ever become boring. It was what had scared her about a long term relationship, but she found that the more that she grew to love Ingrid, the more she grew to enjoy and find the fun with experimenting in their relationship. She felt safe to let go, and not like she was contained in the ways she thought a relationship would bring.

Two years later, and there’s nobody else Mapi would ever fuck in a club bathroom, on the side of the road, in a bed, against the kitchen counter, anywhere, than whereever she was with Ingrid.

Ingrid leads them back toward the bathrooms of the club with little fanfare. There are separate rooms, two for the men and two for the women. The midfielder drags the two of them to the last one, all but shoving Mapi in the door and stepping in after her, clicking the lock shut before she’s on the Spaniard, pressing her back into the wall as their mouths finally meet.

The kiss is hot and desperate and needy, Ingrid’s mouth hard against Mapi’s, swallowing the light moan that the Spaniard lets out at the feeling of Ingrid’s body pressed so close to hers. The Norwegian leans back just far enough to splay one of her hands on the defender's abdomen, her lips moving down toward Mapi’s neck.

The brunette can’t help the whine that slips past her lips when Ingrid nips at her neck, and she can feel the way that the dark haired woman smiles against her skin as she soothes it with her tongue. Her mouth is insistent and unwavering in its path, kissing anywhere and everywhere as a litany of tiny breathy noises slips past the defenders lips. She moves up Mapi’s neck rapidly, before pulling back so that her mouth is right next to the Spaniard's ear.

“You know how much I love to hear how much you want me, but you’re going to get us caught Maria,” Ingrid murmurs before she returns to Mapi’s neck, her movements now languid and relaxed, a sharp contrast to the mildly frantic nature of her kisses before she stopped.

Mapi squirms uncomfortably, the ache between her legs growing hard to ignore. She can’t remember the last time she was this turned on, the last time she wanted Ingrid this badly. The brunette had a bit of a reputation for being rather voracious when it came to sex, and today was no different.

But the Norwegian is merciful, if only for the fact that she is equally as desperate, her hand descending rapidly south, her nimble fingers popping the button of Mapi’s pants before she pulls the leather down with a sharp tug. The midfielder managed to get the material to Mapi’s mid thigh, and that's really all the space she needs in honesty.

Ingrid cups the Spaniard over her underwear, letting out a harsh breath at how wet she found the fabric under her. Her expression told a different story, and when Mapi managed to work her eyes open she found a frown written across Ingrid’s face, one that made her pause, just slightly.

She’s about to ask Ingrid what’s wrong when without any warning whatsoever the midfielder shoves the brunette’s underwear to the side, sinking two fingers into the wet heat she finds between Mapi’s thighs.

The defender muffles her sharp cry with a hand to her mouth, her eyes slamming shut as stars practically erupt before her closed eyelids. Between the combination of dancing, the fact that it’s been weeks, and the stretch of two fingers right from the get go, Mapi is already painfully close.

Ingrid moves her fingers achingly slowly, and Mapi lets a little mewl past her fingers that has the Norwegian looking up at her sharply, clearly unimpressed. She clamps her hand over her mouth once more, her hips rutting down, chasing the light friction she’s being given.

It doesn’t really matter though. She’s so turned on that if Ingrid asked her to come, she probably would. It’s not going to take much.

Mapi knows it.

Ingrid knows it.

But the midfielder is still slightly desperate to drag this on despite the circumstances, so she continues with her bitterly slow pace as she looks Mapi in the eyes, her face tilted as she asks her the question.

“Would her fingers have felt better? Is it her who you imagine when I’m inside of you?” Ingrid taunts, the anger clear in her tone.

Mapi was hers, and hers alone.

She didn’t share.

“No, god no,” Mapi gasps out as Ingrid picks up her pace, faster and faster and faster until the Spaniard is gripping at her shoulders tightly, chasing the pleasure to the ends of the earth.

“Who is it you want then?” Ingrid husks, and the sound of her voice combined with the relentless pace is the thing that sends Mapi over the edge out of nowhere, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth as the coil within her snaps.

“You!” The defender moans out as her back arches into Ingrid, making a complete mess of her underwear as her body shakes and Ingrid grips her tightly. The Norwegian had to admit that she had been expecting the orgasm, but not for it to happen so quickly or quite so pornographically in nature, but she isn’t complaining. She simply holds her girlfriend as she comes down from her high, knowing what her next move is but also not wanting to be completely inconsiderate.

It’s only when Mapi’s body fully relaxes back into the wall that Ingrid slips out of her, walking over to the paper towel holder and cleaning her fingers before she moves toward the door.

“Car. Now.” Ingrid doesn’t even bother with full sentences, instead making her intention perfectly clear with two singular words. The Spaniard is quick to pull her pants up and button them, following the Norwegian out of the bathroom stall and to the car, where Ingrid slipped into the driver's seat. She had only had a few sips of her negroni, and didn’t even feel tipsy beyond the slight headiness of getting Maria off.

Speaking of, the defender had sat down in the car and barely closed her door before Ingrid was pulling away from the curb. Once they had gotten onto the road, the midfielder slid her right hand over, placing it as far up as she possibly could on Mapi’s thigh. The dark haired woman shows no evidence of being affected, compared to the brunette, who whimpers slightly as she shifts in her seat, moving toward Ingrid imperceptibly.

Despite the fact that she’s already had an orgasm, Mapi still feels desperate. She was hoping that coming would help to satiate her, but it seems to have only done the opposite. She needs Ingrid twice as much as she did at the club, and she’s fighting to sit still in her seat and not suggest they pull over for a repeat of the club, but on the side of the road.

And Ingrid is absolutely no help. Mapi isn’t sure if her desperation is all that transparent or if Ingrid is egging her on, but halfway through the drive she begins to rub tiny circles into the skin of Mapi’s inner thigh. It’s over the leather of her pants, but it’s still enough for the Spaniard to bite her lip to keep from letting out a grunt of frustration.

Mapi is so desperate in fact, that when Ingrid finally pulls the car up to their parking spot, she doesn’t even bother with allowing the Norwegian to get out of the car. She simply climbs over the center console, pressing down to shift Ingrid’s seat all the way back before she lands squarely in her lap. It’s a tight fit, but she honestly doesn’t give a flying fuck.

The defender wastes absolutely no time, gripping Ingrid’s face in her hands as she smashes their lips together in a searing kiss. Ingrid’s hands fly up to hold the Spaniard’s side, keeping her body flush with the Norwegian in the cramped car.

But Mapi doesn’t care, she simply presses her lips to Ingrid’s again and again and again, teeth clashing and thirst unquenchable as she slips her tongue into the midfielders mouth. She can’t help the grunt that shoves itself out when Ingrid slides her hands lower, palming at Mapi’s ass over the leather of her pants. The defender grinds down into Ingrid, even with how cramped her legs are, chasing any, any kind of friction.

Ingrid somehow manages to work one of her knees toward Mapi, so when the Spaniard grinds down again she is hit with an actual surface to grind against, and she tips her head back in an unabashed moan.

“Come on Maria, come for me,” Ingrid encourages, not expecting for much to happen from it. They’ve hardly done anything, and it’s nothing but a little bit of dirty grinding. They haven’t even lost any of their clothes yet.

But it only takes a few desperate movements from the brunette, directed in pace by Ingrid’s hands which are still on her ass, for Mapi’s head to fall back once more, her mouth opening in a silent cry as she crashes over the edge, Ingrid staring at her with wide eyes. It wasn’t a big orgasm, and it wasn’t really satisfying in the way that the defender desperately needed, but it was still an orgasm nonetheless.

The Norwegian couldn’t help but be surprised. Between the orgasm in the club and now one here in the car, she was starting to understand perhaps why Mapi had done the things in the club that she had. It didn’t excuse them, but she understood it now, at least.

And if she really was this desperate, then Ingrid was determined to give her exactly what she needed. Not without a little bit of teasing, however.

Ingrid leans over to pop her car door open, taking a moment to look at the foggy windows of her car before Mapi was stepping off of her and out toward their apartment, Ingrid following her quickly.

Mapi kept her head angled away from Ingrid, more than a little embarrassed about her now two orgasms. She knew she seemed desperate, but she really wished that she had more resolve than this. She wasn’t sure what Ingrid was thinking after that last orgasm, and her cheeks remained flush with embarrassment as they came to their front door. The Norwegian unlocked it for them before she held the door for her girlfriend, who still refused to meet her eyes.

Mapi tried to move past the entryway, but Ingrid wouldn’t let her. The midfielder grasped the defender's wrist, forcing her to turn around to face her.

“Maria?” Ingrid asked lightly, her tone a complete contrast to the entire night thus far. Now that the defender won’t even meet her eyeline, she needs to understand what is actually going on here. “What’s going on?”

Mapi shrugs, pulling her arm back to herself before she offers a half assed answer.

“I don’t know. It’s been awhile,” she commented off handedly, and Ingrid felt understanding begin to wash over her as she took Maria in. The flush of her cheeks, the way she was shifting from foot to foot, how she refused to meet the midfielder’s eyes after the orgasm in the car.

“Are you a little needy, corazon?” Ingrid asked, her voice low and thick, and Mapi looked up to find that the same fire that burned deep within her was mirrored back at her in the Norwegian’s eyes.

The shame she had felt walking back from the car melted away as she nodded, swallowing roughly. Ingrid had this uncanny ability to make her feel incredibly seen, even in instances like this, right now.

“Yes. For you, and only you,” Mapi adds the last sentence at the last second, and just as she hoped that it would, Ingrid’s face twisted into a satisfied smirk as she moved toward the Spaniard. The midfielder decides in that moment to take a bit of a different approach than what she had originally planned on. Because as much as Mapi had missed Ingrid, the Norwegian had missed the Spaniard just as much. Getting herself off in an empty hotel room devoid of the defender was no match to the real thing standing here in front of her. To the muscled and tattooed form she knew was hiding under all of that clothing, the soft peaks accompanied by taut and muscled valleys of her tan, tattooed skin.

So she decides to go about this in a way that will satisfy both of them, eventually .

“There’s other ways to get my attention than to put your hands all over another woman, you know that Maria?” Ingrid muses, her tone unserious but her words far more goading than Mapi had expected, and the brunette rushes to explain herself.

“I didn’t–” Mapi starts, only for Ingrid to press her back into the wall, her face inches from the defenders, once again. Her words are low and dripping with sex appeal, and if Mapi’s underwear weren’t already completely ruined it would be now.

“If you need me to fuck you, you tell me. Because you’re mine, and I don’t share with anyone, not our teammates, not the needy women at the club who eyefuck you, nobody.” Ingrid presses two of her fingers into the entrance of Mapi’s mouth, the Spaniards jaw slackening to allow for her to take the middle and ring finger of the midfielder into her mouth. Ingrid doesn't need to tell her for Mapi to know that she is supposed to suck, and that’s exactly what she does, her eyes never leaving Ingrid’s as she rolls her tongue over and over again.

Ingrid removes her fingers from Mapi’s mouth before she quickly steps out of her jeans, shucking off her pants and underwear before she slips her top off, and Mapi is rewarded with the sight of her bare chest.

Mapi follows suit, tugging her leather pants down before she undoes the tie of her corset top, tearing it off her skin, not caring if she ripped the stitching. She reaches back to unclip her bra, discarding it on the ground with little care as she returns to look at Ingrid.

But what she finds surprises her, because out of all the options she would have counted on, to look back and find her girlfriend touching herself was not one that Mapi was prepared for. Ingrid is pressed up against the opposite wall, her hand moving over her clit in small, tight circles as she breathes harshly, and it fills Mapi with a flare of jealousy, one that Ingrid immediately clocks, a smirk on her face before she opens her mouth to let out a breathy moan.

“Oh what? You want to help get me off, not her?” Ingrid asks lightly, her hips canting down slightly as her fingers speed up, and Mapi practically growls at the implication, her hands tightening into a fist. But Ingrid isn’t done yet, instead continuing to provoke her girlfriend, obsessed with the way that Maria is looking at her, all protective and filled with want.

“We could always call Alexia. I’m sure she would have no problem fucking me into next Tuesday if I asked,” Ingrid hums lightly, and the Spaniard’s lips pulled back in a snarl at the thought, suddenly feeling even more territorial. It’s that comment that finally snaps her restraint, and she charges across the hallway, shoving Ingrid’s fingers away from herself so that she can replace them with her own. The thought of Alexia having Ingrid like this, of anyone but her having Ingrid like this is enough to make her shudder with poorly concealed jealousy.

The Spaniard coats her fingers in the copious wetness that was accumulating between Ingrid’s legs before she slipped a finger into the midfielder, who let out a ragged sigh at the feeling. Her head thumped back against the wall as Mapi attached her lips to the sensitive skin of Ingrid’s neck. She works her lips and tongue down the column of her throat, stopping to suck harshly at her pulse point as the Norwegian lets out another breathy groan, opening her eyes to find Mapi looking at her with blown pupils and hooded eyes.

It’s all the encouragement needed for the dark haired woman to press herself further into Mapi, slipping her own hand in between their bodies to curl into the defender as well.

Mapi moans, not having expected Ingrid to do it, but she squirms and presses closer to the Norwegian at the feeling as she doubles down, increasing her pace, desperate to get Ingrid over the edge.

Desperate for Ingrid to only want her, and her alone.

Ingrid curls her fingers within Mapi, and the brunette's pace stutters as she lets out a keening whine, and Ingrid smirks around a groan that she lets out, looking far too self satisfied.

But Mapi’s face is still set in what can only be described as jealousy, and she increases her pace as Ingrid does as well.

Ingrid is closer than Mapi, but she shakes her head, clamping down on the brunette's fingers, forcing her to slow her pace.

“Together,” Ingrid insists, grits out really as she fights her own impending orgasm, and Mapi watches her for a second before she nods, focusing on her own pleasure for a moment as Ingrid’s fingers curl tighter into her. Mapi grips the Norwegian’s shoulder with her free hand, nearly sobbing in relief at the feeling of Ingrid so deeply inside of her, and just when she’s on the crest does she nod fervently. Ingrid relaxes herself, allowing for Mapi to pick up her pace once more.

Their front hallway is filled with the sound of choked sobs and low moans as the two women fall over the precipice, Mapi first and then Ingrid right after her, holding tightly to one another as their bodies shake and work through their respective orgasm.

Ingrid is the first of the two of them to fully come back to herself, but she allows for Mapi to remain tightly wound to her as the Spaniard shudders through her orgasm, letting out a sigh of relief as she lets out a final shake.

The Norwegian is looking at her with quirked lips, and Mapi looks slightly hazy, having finally, finally having gotten some of the relief that she had been craving so acutely.

Without words, the midfielder steps back into her space, pressing her lips to the corner of Mapi’s mouth for a moment before the Spaniard turns into her, kissing her properly.

Ingrid grips Mapi’s hand, bringing it forward to press it to her stomach before she slid it up, over her chest. Mapi took the hint easily, kneading at Ingrid’s breasts as the Norwegian whimpered slightly, a smirk still on her lips.

“And to think,” Ingrid began, her lips just barely ghosting over Mapi’s, they were so close together.

“It could be Alexia doing this,” the midfielder mused, and it’s enough to make Mapi’s whole face darken as she pulls back sharply.

“No.” Mapi answers simply, trying to sound tough, but it comes out rather breathy and needy.

“No? And why is that?” Ingrid asks, and Mapi is happy to supply the answer.

“You’re mine,” Mapi answers simply, and Ingrid grins devilishly before she pushes the Spaniard back slightly, offering her a wink before she begins to head to the bedroom.

Ingrid had the defender right where she wanted her, and she wasn’t about to let that go to waste. When Mapi slips in the door just a second after her, she’s greeted with the sight of Ingrid bent over, her perfect ass on display as she looks through their toy drawer.

Mapi was honestly expecting Ingrid to grab something to use on her, given the possessive nature of the Norwegian earlier in the night, but what she forgot to factor in was that perhaps Ingrid was just as desperate for some relief as she was.

So maybe Mapi really can’t be all that surprised when Ingrid tosses her the strap, before fishing out the toy she wants to use. It’s a green one, long and thin, and a personal favorite of the midfielder. The Norwegian watches with hungry eyes as Mapi attaches the toy to the strap before stepping into the harness, taking care to cinch it up all without her gaze ever leaving Ingrids.

When Mapi is finally getting the last few straps adjusted, Ingrid points toward the bed wordlessly, and despite the eyebrow raise she receives, the Spaniard is quick to obey, laying down on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to watch Ingrid.

The dark haired woman walks toward the bed slowly, climbing on top of Mapi and settling on her lap, her core connecting with the toy that is laying dormant on the defender's stomach.

Ingrid leans down, attaching her lips to Mapi’s chest, swirling her nipple around with her tongue and laving it with attention before she switches to her other breast. Mapi laid back on the bed at the sensation, her chest arching up into the Norwegian’s mouth as one of her hands came to tangle in Ingrid’s dark, thick hair. The brunette doesn’t direct her exactly, but when she pulls lightly on Ingrid’s hair she is rewarded with a moan that is pressed into her skin.

Ingrid kisses up between the valley of her breasts, over her collarbone and up over her neck, nipping at her neck tattoo before she moves to suck earnestly at Mapi’s throat. It takes all of her energy for the Spaniard to not writhe under the Norwegian’s careful ministrations, and Ingrid can’t help but smirk into her neck by how taut and tense Mapi’s body has become.

The midfielder finally moves until her nose is just to the outer edge of Mapi’s ear, her head turned in toward the brunette. ‘

“Have you ever considered Maria,” Ingrid drawls, her voice low and positively dripping with sex, “that I might need you just as much as you need me?”

The dark haired woman provides no further elaboration before she is off of Mapi, reaching for the bottle of lube and squirting some into her hand, gripping the dildo and coating it appropriately, making sure to press it back into the harness and toward Mapi’s body when she moves downward. It’s not a two way strap by any means, but the Spaniard can feel the pressure against her navel, and her hips buck up of their own volition at the slightest bit of friction.

With a smile, Ingrid wipes her hand on a clean towel they keep in their toy drawer before she slips back onto Mapi’s lap, her knees on either side of the Spaniard’s hips. She reaches down to grip the dildo, bringing it up so that she can sink onto it, very, very slowly.

It’s not a thick dildo, but Ingrid is still tight and it shows. Mapi remains laying but she opens her eyes to watch the show, as Ingrid presses further and further down with each pass, giving herself time to adjust.

When she finally does bottom out, she makes sure to move her hips in a circular motion, just like she knows that Mapi likes, just like she knows will drive the defender crazy.

If Mapi can tease, so can Ingrid.

And tease, she does.

The Norwegian is near pornographic in her display, moving up and down as her chest bounces, and she arches her back as a moan ripples out of her mouth.

Her hands have come first to run through her hair, and when she looks down Mapi is looking at her in exactly the way the midfielder wants her to, like some sort of ethereal person. Ingrid, at least to herself, might be far from it, but she would never lie and say that Mapi looking at her this way didn’t turn her on.

She can feel her wetness running down the inside of her thighs as she continues, picking up her pace as more groans and whines slip from her lips. She’s closer now, probably needs a little bit of stimulation on her clit to send her over the edge, but she wants to make it last a little bit longer, wants Mapi to look at her like this a little longer.

When the defender reaches up to palm at her chest Ingrid is quick to stop her, grasping her wrist as her pace stutters, the midfielder sitting down and shifting her hips side to side in slow motions.

“Uh-huh. Touching is only for Alexia, right? Just like you touched her?” Ingrid asks in a saccharinely sweet tone, and Mapi’s eyes widen in surprise as Ingrid lets go of her hand, reaching down to play with her own clit for a few seconds as she resumed her pace. It only took her a few more moments to crest over the edge, a broken cry leaving her lips as her body contracts, her chest pressing up as she slides the hand that had been on her clit up her body to palm at her own chest.

Meanwhile, the Spaniard has been left absolutely fuming under Ingrid, and she doesn’t even allow the Norwegian to fully come down from her orgasm before she’s flipping the two of them, the dark haired woman landing squarely on her back with Mapi over her.

The defender doesn’t even bother saying anything, she simply moves Ingrid’s legs to open her up before she begins to press into her, her eyes watching for any sense of true discomfort.

They had a safe word, and they’ve used it before, but Mapi is always still conscious to check. She knows they push the boundaries of this sort of thing on occasion, but when she looks at Ingrid she finds nothing but acceptance looking back at her.

The dark haired woman pants Mapi’s name as the brunette rolls her hips into the Norwegian’s over and over and over again, her pace quick and efficient.

Ingrid is losing her grip on reality slightly, completely overcome with pleasure as she looks up at the defender. She’s still sensitive from her last orgasm, and the pleasure is nearly all consuming when Mapi gets this focused. The Spaniard is bracing herself on either side of Ingrid’s chest, her arms flexed as she presses down toward Ingrid again and again and again, and the Norwegian can’t find it within herself to be of any complaint.

“You’re mine,” Mapi grunts out as her hips slap into Ingrid’s, and the Norwegian’s mouth opens in a deliciously unabashed moan as she nods insistently, too far gone to remember the little game they had been playing.

“I’m yours Maria, all yours,” Ingrid gasps as Mapi slams into her, and the defender can’t help the groan she lets out at hearing Ingrid say that she was hers. Her hair is fanned out on the pillow, a dark contrast against the white bedsheets, and her cheeks are flushed as she bites her lip, her chest positively heaving, stuttering with pleasure.

Mapi’s positive she’s never seen anything more gorgeous, and when Ingrid finally comes it’s in a silent cry, her abdominal muscles rippling as a guttural moan finally appears as she comes with a force. There are tears leaking out of her eyes as her body arches into the feeling, and Mapi is quick to pull out and work her middle finger and ring finger over Ingrid’s clit in tight circles, and just when Ingrid is sure that she can’t take anymore, the Spaniard slips her fingers into the midfielder.

Ingrid’s mouth opens as her chest arches, but Mapi is relentless.

The defender is completely insatiable, never wants to see anything but Ingrid come like this again and again.

“Maria, Maria, I–” Ingrid tries, but hearing the Norwegian moan her name is doing nothing but making the Spaniard work harder, her two fingers curling into the midfielder as her thumb teases her clit over and over and over again.

Ingrid comes without warning, a warm gush of liquid spilling over Mapi’s hand and out onto their bedsheets, as her body convulses, her lover's name slipping from her lips like a prayer as her third orgasm shudders through her.

Mapi works her through it gently, far more smug with herself than she had been when she had come inside the house initially. The ache between her own thighs has grown entirely unbearable, but all she cares about is Ingrid as she settles next to the Norwegian, whose eyes are still screwed tightly shut, her chest working overtime to get air to her lungs.

Aftershakes work their way through her body as Mapi places a hand delicately on her stomach, a soothing presence rather than an overly sexual one. It takes her a few minutes to come back to herself, but eventually the midfielders breath evened out, and she places her own hand over Mapi’s as she looks over at the Spaniard, who is propped up on one elbow looking at her.

“Better?” Mapi asks softly, in reference to the thing Ingrid had last said before she had started fucking herself on the strap. Ingrid swallows thickly as she takes Mapi in, how thready and tight her body appears, the way her legs are crossed even as she lays in bed, all of the hallmark signs that her girlfriend needs to get off.

Ingrid knew this when she got into a relationship with the Spaniard. Mapi’s sex drive was on another planet, and the Norwegian loved it about her. She could go for hours and hours, and was completely bottomless not only in her desire, but also in her ability to give.

The Norwegian knew if she asked to stop that Mapi would easily agree, likely slipping off to the bathroom to get herself off once or twice before she returned to Ingrid, wrapping her arms around the Norwegian and letting her fall asleep on her chest.

But Ingrid, despite being blissed out currently, is more than happy to continue this. So she shakes her head, one eyebrow raising as she raked her eyes over the defender's bare figure.

“No,” Ingrid answered simply before she sat up, leaning over into the Spaniard’s space and pressing her down onto the bed with a hand on her sternum.

“Can’t have you going to bed with the feeling of your hands on her now, can I?” Ingrid teases, but it lacks most of the bite of earlier. Mapi only smirks back at her as the Norwegian returns to her chest once more. She’s more thorough in her attention this time around, less desperate for herself and more attuned to Mapi’s body. She flattens her tongue against the defender's nipple as she brings a hand up to pinch at the opposing nipple, smiling into the brunette’s chest as she whines at the feeling.

Ingrid kisses her way down Mapi’s abdomen, licking a line down her abs before she nips at the skin there playfully, enjoying the way that Mapi’s hips jump at the contact.

The Norwegian has to take a few minutes when she finally meets her destination to pull at the cinches of the strap, undoing it before she carefully slides it down Mapi’s legs, the brunette lifting her hips to help the Norwegian get it off.

Ingrid rids it of the green dildo before she sets it carefully to the side, well aware that she’ll be coming back for it shortly. But for now she turns back to her girlfriend, well aware of her current destination.

Mapi can’t help but spread her legs wider as Ingrid settles between her legs, looking up at the Spaniard once more before she lowers herself right toward where the defender wanted her.

“You sure you don’t want me to call Ale, ask her if she can send her little girlfriend back here to get you off instead of me?” Ingrid offers, so close to Mapi that she can feel the hot breath from her speaking, right where she needs the midfielder.

“God, no Ingrid, I just want you,” Mapi promises, trying her hardest not to squirm as she nods her head. Ingrid seems to be satisfied with that answer, and she leans down, bracing her hands on either of Mapi’s thighs as she licks through the defender.

The Spaniard lets out an ungodly noise as her hips jump into Ingrid’s mouth, and the Norwegian can’t help but moan at the taste of the defender, salty and wonderful and just as she remembers it, even after all this time.

Ingrid moves up to flick Mapi’s clit, first side to side and then up and down with her tongue as the brunette’s hands bunch in the sheets, grunting at the feeling of Ingrid’s soft tongue against her.

The Spaniard clenches her thighs around Ingrid’s head, pulling her in as she brings Mapi’s clit into her mouth earnestly, sucking hard as the defender bites back a scream.

Mapi struggles to keep her hips pinned to the bed, and when she arches for the third time the Norwegian slides her hand up to press it over the base of the defender’s navel, keeping her hips trapped down to the bed sheets.

Once she is assured that the defender won’t move, the midfielder dives back in, slipping her tongue into the wet heat between the defender's thigh, letting the slick coat her lips and chin as she pressed further and further into the brunette.

Ingrid wasn’t trying to tease, she was far past that at this point, and she smiled when she felt the familiar tightening of Mapi’s abdomen, still working herself against the defender as she slipped two fingers into the Spaniard, curling them quickly and effectively.

Mapi cried out, gasping Ingrid’s name as she came with the Norwegian’s finger buried deep within her, her tongue working her clit over in circles as she came down from her high. She sucked in air in a greedy fashion, only realizing once she opened her eyes that Ingrid wasn’t on the bed with her anymore, but rather standing next to her, currently getting herself adjusted to the strap.

Mapi’s eyes widened in surprise before her pupils dilated, the thought of Ingrid fucking into her a more than welcome thought. The dark haired woman had attached Mapi’s favorite toy to the strap, the red one with ridges, and just the sight of it practically has the Spaniard drooling in want.

“All fours,” Ingrid instructs, and the defender is quick to pop up and settle just as Ingrid had told her. One look at the wetness between the brunette’s thighs is enough for the midfielder to know that she probably doesn’t need any sort of lube, but she does it regardless, not wanting Mapi to be uncomfortable.

Mapi has settled herself on the edge of the bed, and Ingrid walks right over to her and places her dominant hand on the small of the Spaniard’s back. She runs her hand over the tattoos she finds there, the cross, the lion, the two sphynx’s, the lotus flower at the base of her neck.

She runs her hand down the defenders spine, trailing it with just one finger and smiling at the way that Mapi shivered under her before she palmed at the Spaniard’s ass appreciatively before she finally returned to exactly where Mapi wanted her.

Ingrid eases the strap into Mapi slowly, allowing her time to adjust to it as she moves in and out of her shallowly. It didn’t take long for the Spaniard to adjust, arching her chest into the ground and throwing her head back as she pressed back into Ingrid.

The Norwegian grips at Mapi’s hip for security, beginning to set a slow rhythm of pumping into the defender. But Mapi wants more, and faster, and she reaches around with one hand to grasp at the midfielders thigh, encouraging Ingrid to go faster.

“Please, more,” Mapi practically begs, and Ingrid smirks at the desperation in her tone but she obliges all the same, beginning to move faster and faster.

The brunette lets out a ragged sigh at the feeling, her head still thrown back as her hips press up. The Spaniard drops down onto her elbows, changing the angle and releasing a groan at the feeling as Ingrid continued, her pace quickening. She’s reaching the perfect spot, and it only continues with her next movement.

The Norwegian reaches forward with one hand to toy with the defender's clit, knowing that Mapi was close, and knowing that this was going to be a good orgasm. The muscles of the brunette’s back were rippling as her chest contracted and spasmed, and her breathing wasn’t so much breathing as it was raspy moans.

Mapi was tightening around the strap, making it hard for Ingrid to move even as she continued to pump in and out of the Spaniard, her hand working tirelessly over the defender's clit.

Mapi can’t even stop the whines to warn Ingrid that she is going to come, not that she needed to. Ingrid could tell, and she chased it, pressing faster and harder into the Spaniard as the coil inside Mapi snapped, sending her crashing over the edge violently as her body spasms and contracts.

There is stillness in the bed for a moment, the brunette suspended in pleasure before her entire body begins to shake with the force of her orgasm, Ingrid’s name falling from her mouth in a breathy moan, reverent as her entire body relaxes into the mattress, her hips still up in the air, Ingrid still completely inside of her.

The dark haired woman leans forward to press a line of open mouthed kisses to the defenders spine softly, allowing her to come down from her orgasm slowly before she slipped out of her, stepping out of the strap and discarding it to the side before she made for the bathroom briskly.

Mapi is still laying on the bed when Ingrid returns, brandishing a wet washcloth that she uses to clean first the defender, and then herself before she discards it back in the bathroom. By the time she manages to get back to bed the defender is settled against the pillows, her chest and face flushed but alert, and she gestures for Ingrid to join her, something the Norwegian happily does.

Ingrid curls into Mapi’s side as she always does, tilting her head up to ghost her nose over the skin of the brunette’s throat before she presses a featherlight kiss to her jaw, the softness a juxtaposition to the frantic yet deliberate sex they had just finished having.

But this was one of the things Mapi loved about Ingrid, her ability to be just as sweet as she was sexy, to do those kinds of things in the bed before they curled into one another, their adoration just as prominent as their lust was. It was the first time that Mapi has felt that kind of balance with someone, and now she craves it almost as much as the actual sex itself sometimes.

“You know,” Ingrid murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper but still audible nonetheless. “You don’t need to hump on one of our teammates to get me to fuck you, you know that right?”

Her tone is gentle, forgiving and understanding in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. When Mapi doesn’t say anything, she continues.

“I missed you just as much as you did me, I promise. We don’t need to let it get this bad, I just need you to talk to me. I had no idea how you were feeling,” Ingrid admits, because the fact was that she was relatively unaware of exactly how Mapi had been feeling, and she hates that. Maria is her favorite person, and she always wants to know what she is feeling or what she is concerned about or needed.

Mapi sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of Ingrid’s hair before she wrapped her arm tighter around the Norwegian, more protective and secure.

“I know, you are right. In the future I will be more honest and try to communicate with you more about what I need and when,” Mapi vows, and there is silence for a few moments before she smirks, letting out a huff of a laugh before she speaks once more.

“It was pretty nice to rile you up and get you all jealous like that, though, that was hot,” Mapi admits, and realizes as soon as she’s said it that it’s a mistake.

“Really Maria? Well…I guess two can play at that game!” “Wait, no I didn’t – what?!”

#woso imagine #mapi leon x ingrid engen #mapi leon #ingrid engen #alexia putellas x reader (sort of?)#alexia putellas

405 notes · View notes

forcemeanakin · 7 months

Text

𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟯

•WARNINGS: SMUT. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this) Actual cheating. Dirty talk, teasing and sex in a public space, voyeurism, praising kink, bit of degrading, handjob (m and f receiving), oral sex (f receiving). Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage.

Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.

Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.

Part One - Part Two

Part Three Summary: How could Mr. Skywalker resist such a pretty little thing like yourself when you come into his workshop with dessert?

Word count: 4.1 K.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao.

Thank you so much for the comments in my last post! Your excitement makes me want to write even more :) seriously thank you! And I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone, pls let me know if I missed you!

“You missed dessert.”

It took Anakin a second to realize that he wasn’t delusional, that your voice wasn’t a product of his imagination.

You were here, in his workshop.

With actual pie.

“Shouldn't you be upstairs, Y/n? It 's pretty late.” Anakin spoke without disconnecting his attention from the welding happening in his project.

You delayed your response, walking towards him and placing the plate on the counter, sliding it to him. Elbows on the surface, you supported your head on your knuckles, widening your eyes in innocence in case he indulged in looking up.

“I could ask that as well.” You got closer, taking a spot at his left side to admire the precision in which he was attaching cables. “Life Day's morning is tomorrow, we should be up pretty early. We’re also going skating.”

Anakin scrunched his face like he had forgotten about it and he was not eagerly expecting the trip.

“You can’t not go, it’s our last day here.” You murmured with a velvety voice, sending goosebumps through his spine.

“I’ve seen that fucking lake enough for a lifetime. I’m sure I won’t miss much.” He stuck his tongue out, inching his head forward to appreciate his manual work better.

“You’ll miss me.”

Anakin, having everything on the line, was too careful not to slip and fall. Because of that, your grand gestures and obvious advances were deflected by him every single time. Except that one time he did indulge. That one time where you weren’t even trying and he, by his own doing, fell into temptation. Only when commands a situation, or when he thinks he is, he lets himself free fall into his instincts.

“I’ll miss you.” You added, playing with the little metal panel that seemed the right size to fit the droid part he was fixing.

“I don’t think you miss me when you have Luke’s tongue down your throat.”

He bit the words, gripping the tool with more force in between his fingers, clearly upset. You hid a playful smirk.

“That’s when I miss you the most.” You whispered, grazing his ear shell with your lips, caressing the pull-up sleeve from his shirt.

He tensed at the ministration, blinking fast to return to his previous state of concentration, “To all of this, where’s your boyfriend? Doesn’t he have a promise to fulfill?”

Honestly, it was your fault for trusting Luke’s empty words. Again. But you were enjoying Anakin’s visible jealousy.

“Luke wanted to go straight to sleep… said he was stuffed from dinner. Not a lot of energy to do anything.” You briefly whined with a voice so low, Anakin could barely hear you with the noise of the machine.

So he stopped, pushing himself back onto his chair so he could look up to you without obstacles. His chair was set just a few inches lower to work better. Anakin’s eyes followed your figure from head to toe, casually lingering on the bit of skin that showed from the slit of your attire. Just like at the dinner table, he was struggling and was unsure that he would be able to escape harmlessly this time.

“I’m kind of jealous to be honest.” You mumbled, staring at the mess of parts, walking until you were in between him and the counter. Trapped in between his spreading legs, your chest was right on his eye line and you hadn’t changed your dress. “I wish I was stuffed as well.”

Gulping harshly, Anakin built up the strength to stare at your intense gaze, basically condemning himself. Because the minute he saw the hungry spark shining from them, he knew there wasn’t a single bone in him that would deny you if you asked for him again.

His strong, yet shy hand, climbed up your leg like a moth to a flame until he was able to grasp the fat of your thigh. Feeling your softness against his palm had him on the edge of staining his pants. With a little pull from his part, it took you mere seconds to obey his silent command and sit on his lap. Anakin’s curious hand continued to brush your bare leg, rejoicing in the way your breath would accelerate when his hand went up and how you bit your lip whenever it came down.

It also didn’t help that his other arm was wrapped around your waist, thumb miming the motion of his hand, but on your hip, trapping you in his embrace. Expectant of what would be his next move, you shyly waited for whenever he would peel his eyes from your slit and reciprocate the attention, this time on your face.

On your lips.

Like he was reading your mind, Anakin’s eyes slowly moved up your curves until he met your needy orbs, noses softly grazing each other at the proximity. Breath getting out of control at the shift of energy, warmth expanding all over your skin and clit throbbing in anticipation. You deviated your eyes momentarily to sneak a peek of the deliciously rich piece of pie laying on the table and he benefited from the newly acquired angle to caress your throat with his lips.

“Just a taste?” You murmured, looking at him through your eyelashes, intentionally inching closer to brush his lips with yours.

Was he going to do it? Take the next step?

Would he dare?

Would you dare?

Surpringsily, Anakin nodded swiftly, leaning into the intoxicating pull of your mouth. “Just a taste.”

Anakin’s lips tasted so much better the second time around, it tasted like victory. And you made it a personal goal of yours to show him how grateful you were that he finally caved in. Wasting no time, in case he changed his mind, your hands found their home in Anakin’s curls, the silky feeling of them a new aphrodisiac to you and apparently to him, by the way he was growling at your clasp.

His sneaky tongue barely asked for permission when it was already intruding into your mouth, licking everything on its way. Giving up on trying to take the lead, you surrendered to his rough pace and enjoyed the delicious sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your lips. Anakin would take advantage of your dumb state and hanging mouth to suck however he pleased, smirking because the only thing your mind could process was imitate his dirty moves. Until he bit your bottom lip, making sure your brain wasn’t already melted before he could even start ruining you.

When you pulled his hair, only because he had taken the party downstairs and was violently grabbing your ass, it was like you had awakened a beast. Out of nowhere, Anakin stood up, holding you by your thighs and placing you on the surface of his tool table. His shirt’s buttons were discarded early in the makeout session, granting you the space necessary to roam your palms all over his strong pecs and firm shoulder blades. And when you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, hinting right where you wanted him, he clasped his fists around your ankles, spreading you open without breaking the liplock. He was even more aggressive with the leverage his height gave him.

“Just a taste…” He grunted again, lifting up the skirt of your dress until it was tangled enough to give him a good view of your thong. He clicked his tongue at the sight of your spicy choice of underwear. “Almost like you had planned it all along.”

Shamelessly, so outrageously shameless, you drifted your legs further apart, making him snicker.

“Well, did you?” He wandered, sliding your damped panties down your legs.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday.” You breathed out, shivering at the breeze fanning your burning core. “I’ve never wanted something so bad.” Urged eyes glued directly to Anakin’s groin.

Anakin grinned a triumphant smile. That could’ve easily been a lie, but he doubted it. He recognized a brat when he saw one. Holding your foot like it was a delicate piece of glass, Anakin set the nibbling starting point right on your ankle and followed a beeline straight to your weeping cunt. His hot breath made you shiver in anticipation, whimpering to show off your desperation in case this would reach his sensible side.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm before me, baby? Without doing it yourself?” He breathed, roaming his hands up your legs, the contact so rough and intimate at the same time.

You hated that question, it embarrassed you.

“Mmm… Uhh-” You thought out loud, mind going blank as Anakin’s smooches went higher up. “F-four months?” You hissed.

“You’ve been dating Luke for three.” He did the math in his head.

Oh.

Your face turning in shame had his eyes widening.

It would be a lie if Anakin said that he wasn’t mad at his son for dragging the Skywalker name in the mud. For keeping such a needy thing like yourself restricted from gratification. With how sexual you were, four months were an eternity. Nonetheless, Anakin was a fixer and you were his next project.

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you? This slutty pussy can’t wait to have something inside of it. Anything.” Anakin mocked you, testing your sanity as he delayed contact with your core by redirecting his foreplay into the inner side of your thighs.

“That’s not true.” You fought with a trembling voice, observing how Anakin got closer and closer to delivering exactly what you wanted. “I only want you, d-”

The forbidden word. You almost spilled it.

“-sir.” You corrected in time, catching Anakin’s mocking glint. “Only you, please.”

Anakin’s face twisted in pleasure when his finger dived inside you, giving him a warm welcome, impossibly slick. You hugged his pumping digit tightly, getting even wetter at this fascinated expression. Anakin hadn’t felt such a lubricated canal in so long, his head almost exploded at the million possibilities with such an easy pussy: His cock would slide right in, be suffocated by your clenching walls just like his finger was...

That had him dropping on his knees, starting to eat you out like he was starved. Just like you predicted. Nose deep, no hesitation to blow your slobbering cunt with abandon, moaning right on your core when he had the very first taste of your flavor. So sweet. Just like he predicted.

“Oh- oh!” You whimpered at the first clean lick he gave you, quivering like a virgin because it had been too long since someone showed you love there.

Anakin’s tongue had the knowledge and patience none of the guys your age had. Every motion was so passionately delivered, so intentional. No rush, no fast lapping to get you off quickly. Anakin knew exactly what would have you shaking with pleasure and wasn’t scared to spend his time getting to know every hidden, sticky spot. In fact, it seemed like he enjoyed taking his sweet time with his face buried in your exposed core.

It was the hottest shit you’d ever seen.

You were riled up by the precise technique with which he knew exactly how to pleasure your opening, sucking on your lips like they were the meal and not a measly pit stop. But what had you speechless, just at a loss of words, was the way he didn’t hesitate to dip his face into your heat with fervor. As he planted open mouth kisses to your slit, face fully covered by your juices, he only pulled back to spit on top of your clit and play with the liquid slob on top of your bundle of nerves.

No grimaces, no disgust faces, just utter fascination by your reactions and your pussy.

“Such a sweet thing.” Anakin whispered, flattening his tongue and lapping over your mound. “Careful, I might not let you leave.”

Please don’t. You replied inside your head.

Anakin’s sounds of approval and delight made this whole experience even more sinful. Something about the idea of him enjoying cheating on his wife touched a nerve inside of you, something so wild and dangerous: You had another woman’s man in between your legs and he was enjoying being of service to you. You arched your back at the naughty thought, something Anakin didn’t appreciate because it moved you from the angle he had specifically situated you on; he had already discovered the spot that had your toes curling.

The power rush combined with Anakin's attention to your clit had a knot forming on your abdomen. Supporting yourself on your elbows, you looked down at Anakin’s work, not wanting to miss the scenario in front of you, in case you climaxed earlier than anticipated. But what you saw only pushed you closer to said ending. Anakin was playing with your clit like a cat with a toy, giving rapid licks that had your head spinning, while staggering eager sucks onto your nub. Anakin’s lips enveloped your clit with such care, only to roughly slurped on it, only backing down until he heard you whining. Or moaning his name. Whichever came first.

“Anakin-” You bravely attempted to cry his name, unsure of his reaction.

Anakin took the opportunity to analyze your flustered image, his gaze inevitably drawn to your falling cleavage, given that he was pulling down on the fabric by shouldering your legs. He could see the top of your boobs spilling from your undergarments and he dreamed of the looks of them. How perky they would be, how firm and squeezable they must be. Fantasizing about your young tits had him rolling his hips against the wooden leg of the table.

If Anakin locking your legs around his shoulders to dig deeper into your cunt wasn’t enough to have you convulsing, his tongue breaching into you and maneuvering it like it was actually fucking you, did.

“Anakin, I’m close- Oh,” You could barely hold yourself, deciding to lean limp against the hard surface, waiting for Anakin to sweep you off your feet with an outstanding orgasm.

“That’s right, you’re gonna come on my tongue. How does that feel?” Anakin pushed, squeezing your ass and bringing your core over to him to devour. Like the certified slut you were, you rocked your hips against his face, relishing on the massage his nose inflicted on your most sensitive part. “Fucking your boyfriend’s dad face. This has to be a world record.”

Anakin stared at you over your mound, drinking the heavenly sight of your face contorting in ecstasy by his doing. Such a pretty, young thing, so slick and wet… coming undone by his tongue. And his tongue only.

“Such a slut… my slut.” He degraded you with darkened eyes, amazed at how those words only had you trembling harder. “Only wanting to come on my tongue, by my cock. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, taking the little spaces he gave you in between words to fight off the pending peak; you didn’t want this to be over. You needed more from him, you needed everything.

“Y-yes!” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the familiar wave of satisfaction.

“Yes, what?” Anakin teased.

Would you dare?

“Yes, daddy!” You screamed when your climax toppled you over.

Anakin had the minimal kindness of not rubbing your choice of words on your face as you came over his fingers, dripping not only on his hand, but his table. This climax in particular had you weak; the aftershocks prolonged for more than you were used to and legs trembled as if you had just worked out. It could have been because you hadn’t had one in so long, or maybe because of his skillful tongue. Probably a combination of both. But truth be told, it was the best orgasm of your life.

Even with dizzy eyes you could spot the bulge twitching inside his fitted pants. He had promised you just a little taste, but it was so unfair to leave him like that. Right?

Right?

Boosting yourself up, you directed your hand straight to his waistband, actively searching to fish his cock.

“What are you doing?” Anakin questioned but did little to no effort to stop your wandering touch.

You didn’t give an answer, instead lips pouted with a fixed stare, you let your actions speak for you. After unbuckling his belt, you loosened his pants, being faced with the opportunity of a lifetime. Anakin sucked his breath in when he saw your nails dipping under the elastic of his underwear, shaky exhales at the expectation of contact. You were unaware of it, you wouldn’t even believe it, but it had been a while for him too. Besides his own hand, he hadn’t known the touch of someone else in so long and Padmé didn’t even do the trick by now.

So when Anakin saw your widened eyes as you scope up his erection from its confinements, he felt the same rush he used to savor with other conquests whenever Padmé and he were on a on-and-off break. But this was better, so much more electric. Your surprised gasp at his big cock elevated his ego to new highs. It just confirmed what he already knew: that you’ve dealing with stupid boys, when you deserved a real man.

And Anakin was exactly that.

His eagerness pushed you to envelope your hand around his shaft with more confidence, your fingers struggling to meet around it because of the delicious girth. Anakin let go as soon as he felt you tugging his length, crumbling on your shoulder, barely supporting himself on the edge of the table at each side of your hips. Being the big man he was, you didn’t expect Anakin to be so vocal during sex, but fuck were you wrong. Whimpers started to spill from his lips, landing right on your ear. It was the most exquisite sound you’ve heard.

It was just so hot to have him completely surrender to you, to the will of your hand. Gladly, you pumped harder and faster, expecting to hear more of his inviting sounds. Having the upper hand encouraged you to try and lead the situation, turning his head by his chin with two fingers, sucking in his bottom lip as a first move before properly kissing him. Jacking him off while he still had his pants on, had you squeezing your thighs, the sight turning on a switch for you.

He followed your initiative and dipped his very own fingers to take care of you again. He would do it as many times as you needed, just for his own amusement. Closing his eyes, he sighed in content when his digits were fully installed inside of your warm walls.

“That’s it, that’s the stuff.” He smiled into the words, making you cry even louder at the intrusion. He couldn’t stop praising you, he was too fascinated by you. “Always so wet for me. Fuck, yes. So wet and slick, ready to let me in. I adore this young pussy.”

You sobbed at the last words he pronounced, Anakin cracking a wicked grin. He was mesmerized by how unfiltered and vulgar your dark side turned out to be. Finally a worthy opponent.

Anakin and you worked on each other until you were both grazing the edge: sloppily kissing, moaning on each other's mouths and exchanging the same air by just how close you were. The scene replicated the rush and eagerness of a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other’s pants. It was so intimate, yet distant at the same time.

Because he wasn’t technically fucking you his conscience weighted a bit less. Using that logic, Anakin found comfort that, as long as you two kept your shenanigans at hand stuff, there was no reason why he should be called a cheater. It was two people exchanging favors.

It was him shaking you off his system.

“A-Anakin, you make me feel so good. Please.” You squealed when he circled around your clit with his thumb as his thick fingers worked in and out of you.

“Next time you touch yourself, you’ll think of these fingers, you’ll think of me.” Anakin grunted, flicking your nub without care. He relished on the little scream you let out.

Anakin felt the exciting clench when he inserted his third finger in, your contorted face tattling you anyway. That was good news, because he was close too. It was hard for him not to when you were looking like sin itself with your dress discarded at waist level, cheeks flushed and mouth hung open, begging to be fucked by his tongue.

Anakin wanted to grip you, rip you apart, crush you under the weight of his desire. He needed to have all of you in order to move on, so the next half of his life was spent dreaming about the feeling of you, as an alternative of a lifetime simply wandering. And as much as he wanted to extend this moment forever, your constant spasms were threat enough to let him know release was right around the corner.

Gushing on him again, you felt your body going limp. Smiling to the ceiling, you thought about how Anakin had ended your miserable drought with two winning orgasms. It was so intense, you were actually ashamed of how many unholy sounds you squealed but it didn’t make sense why a simple hand job would feel so good.

Flipping onto your stomach at the speed light, Anakin needily pulled up the bottom of the dress until your ass was bare and exposed for him to fondle as he pleased, panting frantically. You didn’t even felt ashamed when he split you open; you offered yourself to him even more and he fucking loved it.

He fucking loved how shameless you were, how excited for his attention you got. A breath of fresh air, that was you.

But right when Anakin was about to give into his darkest desires, right about to cross the line between wrong and utterly wrong, gripping the edges of the table while trembling as his cock sat an inch away from your entrance…

Just one little push and he would taste heaven.

Just one little thrust and he would know glory in the purest form.

The debate raged inside of him, a bead of sweat falling from his temple. He was only torn away from his mental debate when your impatient orbs peep from over your shoulder.

“Please.” You whined, shaking your ass to entice him. “P-please do it, daddy. I’m begging, I really am.”

Knees weak, Anakin was about to cave.

Just one swing of his hips. Just one tiny buck-

Another whine came out of you, but a disappointing one, this time provoked by Anakin jacking himself off until he was covering your heart-shaped cheeks with the viscous liquid you desperately wanted to swallow. Holding your jaw so you would make eye contact with him, Anakin put two cum-covered fingers in front of you, almost spurting a second time when your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the taste. His jizz was as good as dessert, for fuck’s sake.

But things come to an end.

“This can’t ever be known.” Anakin finally picked himself up from behind you, buttoning his pants as he shook his head, clearing his throat. It felt like he was talking to himself, “This- uhm, this never happened. Never happened...”

“But it did. And I liked it.” Not fixing your dress so he would be greeted by your perky nipples, you turned to face him. “In fact, I loved it. I kinda want more.” You tilted your head, eyeing his groin without a filter. “Don’t you want more, daddy?” You had found a weak link and Anakin was making absolutely no effort to hide the effects of the word on him.

Of course he wanted more. He wanted everything. Especially when you were staring at him with those eyes, and that hair, and those tits- God, those firm, perky tits were getting to him.

The phone he had installed for inner communication inside the house rang. It was Padmé calling him to sleep, the noise from his workshop disturbing her dreams. A nerve-wracking feeling took over you as soon as the phone call ended, you evidently awaiting for his next statement.

He would either stay or leave. As simply as that.

In or out?

When Anakin took one bite of the pie as he fixed his eyes on you, you smirked as a mirror of his own smile.

taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin @bby-imasociopath @adoringanakin @d0llfacehgwts@daddyissuesbabygirl

let me know if you wanna be tagged in the upcoming parts!

750 notes · View notes

veras1ne · 6 months

Text

✮“Delicate.”

I had SO much fun writing this fic!! I’m so sorry it was delayed a little, there were some time constrictions and I’d much rather give you guys a late fic than a rushed and poorly written one. Anyways, Enjoy!! I can’t wait to see yall on the 31st 🦢 🫧

✰Pairing´ˎ˗📀: Anakin Skywalker x AFAB!Bimbo!Reader

✰ ‧₊˚ Summary 🦢: Anakin was out on a mission, leaving you home alone and an opportunity to hit the town. Nightclubs and dancing sounded perfect until he finds his way back home early.

✰ ;➛ WARNINGS🫧: THIS IS AN 18+ SMUT FANFIC. I am NOT responsible for the media you read and consume! Your warnings are the following: Smut, PIV, Fingering, Cum-Stuffing, Anakin being a master manipulator, Slutshaming, Degrading, Use of She/Her, Mentions of Breeding/Pregnancy, squirting, but no explicit mention of it! Try not to blink.

The sound of your dress zipping up and the spritzing of your favorite perfume filled your ears with excitement. Anakin was planned to be away on a trip for several nights, allowing you to sneak away with your closest friends for a night on the town, going to some of the sweetest clubs in your finest clothing. This would be the perfect chance for you to let loose without being kept on a tight leash by him. You could drink, dance, and enjoy yourself to your heart's content.

Tonight, you were finally free to do all that you wanted. You wanted to be selfish and get dirty and nasty with your friends. Of course you were allowed to go out, but statistics forbid you to be able to wear your tightest skirts and tops that were downright inappropriate for you to wear anywhere else. Personally, you had seen nothing wrong with your choice of clothing, especially when you got dressed just right, knowing that the explicit clothing wouldn’t matter in the first place as your lover would be right there in the event of anything happening.

The tightness made your waist look amazing, and the thin fabric hugged your curves perfectly. In Anakin’s mind, your clothes left little to the imagination—so little, in fact, that he believed he should be the only one to see you wearing the fabric you loved so much. He believed that he should be the only one to take advantage of you and ravage your mind, body, and soul.

He believed he should be the only one to see every nook and cranny of your body—the one that was specially made for his hands. To him, you were a toy, something he could take whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted. No matter where he went, whether it was his bed or yours or the bar across town, you would always be available to him.

You were his property that he owned, and you loved it. He loved that he was the only thing you thought about, that every being in your soul belonged to him, and that your whole life was centered around being him. It pleased him endlessly when his presence seemed to be the only thing to bring happiness and contentment into your everyday existence.

You relished in the knowledge that he knew every inch of your body; everything you did was because of him. His touch was what caused you to cry out of pleasure. He held you, kissed you, touched you, pleasured you, and told you how much he loved you. His missions were an opportunity for you to get wild without his knowledge, to let out a primal energy that wasn't regularly seen in you while under his every beck and call.

You had loved to be under Ani’s watchful eyes, but to live somewhat of a secret second life was something that made you feel sexy and powerful. Sure, others saw you as naive and just a pretty face, but you simply loved it. You loved dressing pretty in pink and always sipping on smooth champagne. In Anakin’s words, you were “ditzy.” And he liked it. It felt good to have you wrapped tightly around his finger.

You were just too good for him. He loved having you completely at his mercy, giving him whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. You were a gift that no man or god could give him. The way you met was almost immediately revealing to your character: him being assigned to nearly babysit you while you traveled with your father throughout the galaxy, accompanying your father as the face of his campaign for his politics.

He became enamored by your innocent beauty and decided he wanted you to be his. You didn’t realize it, but he began to court you, solidifying his belief that you were rather bubble-headed, not that he minded in the slightest way.

He watched you giggle uncontrollably during a joke, hearing him chuckle when you cried out in disgust when you accidentally stepped in a liquid that had taken form on the floor. He had found you absolutely delicious, and his obsession had gotten the best of him. His lust had grown more intense, taking over any sense of logic and reasoning. He would come home after long missions and find you waiting for him, begging for him to touch you, kiss you, and fuck you. Your soft body begged to be touched, but Anakin couldn’t bring himself to give in.

As much as he desired you in the moment, his job had taken priority, and he had to be away from you until now. He hadn’t told you of his return, wishing to surprise you and see your pretty face filled with delight as his boots echoed down the hallway to your door, clacking upon arrival. Although it had only been a few days, to him, it felt like weeks away from your beautiful body, which fit right with his. He had missed you, and he wanted to prove you right.

As you smoothed out your top in the mirror, the jiggling of your front door’s knob caught your attention. Anakin’s voice calling out your name brought a smile to your face, making you rush out into the living room, heels clicking as you ran. The sight that greeted you, however, made your heart leap in your chest.

The man that stood before you was handsome in his Jedi robes. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he smiled down at you, a slight smirk on his lips. Anakin was clearly excited to see you, his arms open, expecting a hug. “Hi Baby! You’re home!” you almost screamed, joyously, running into his muscular arms.

You wrapped your own around his broad back and pulled him closer to you, pressing your nose into his neck and inhaling his smell of fresh soap and pine trees. “I didn’t know you were coming. I missed you so much, baby!” You exclaimed happily, kissing the side of his jawline before pulling away and admiring his strong build.

His face contorted in confusion as he looked at you, seeing you in your pink outfit fixed with your primmed and perfect hair and your finest heels. “What are you wearing, honey? I didn’t think you knew I was coming home.” You smiled at him blankly, not understanding his words. “I was about to go out with some girls from the club downtown; that’s okay, right?" He nodded slowly, trying to comprehend where you got the idea that you could go outside looking like that. “Of course that’s alright,” his voice trailed off as he entered your kitchen. “But I know you aren’t going out dressed like that." You tilted your head, confused. “Like that? What’s wrong with this?” “I should be the only one seeing you dressed like that. Your tits are halfway spilling out of your top; I wouldn’t even be surprised if other men tried to look at you the way only I do," he snapped at you, frustrated that you were trying to question his authority.

You rolled your eyes at his reaction, turning around and beginning to walk to your bedroom. “Oh really? Well, I guess maybe you should change the way you look at me if you hate it so much.” You scoffed as you walked past him, heading to your closet. “Besides, if you hate what I’m wearing so badly, why don’t you come and take it off?" You turned around with a devilish smirk on your face, wanting to see his reaction.

You never expected such a fierce and passionate response. A growl escaped his throat as he stomped towards you, slamming you up against the wall and pinning you there with ease. He pushed you against the wall roughly, ravanging your neck and placing wet, open kisses on your exposed skin. He nibbled on your collarbone, sucking lightly, causing you to moan and shiver. “I could rip your clothes right off," his low voice whispered into your ear, his lips close enough to yours for you to feel his hot breath. “Of course you’d love that, wouldn’t you?" He chuckled darkly as he released his grip on your shoulders and placed his forehead on yours.

The sight of Anakin’s eyes staring straight into yours made you forget all about the situation, instead focusing on the sensation of his hot breath fanning across your skin, his hand coming up to your face, and forcing eye contact between the two of you. “I've waited too long for you, Ani. My fingers couldn’t fuck me like you can. I need you so bad.” Your breathing was labored and unstable, with his hands harshly grabbing your wrists as he pinned you to your shared bed, which had grown so cold on his side.

He leaned down and kissed you passionately, his tongue brushing against your lip before slipping inside, exploring the depths of your mouth. His hands made short work of your miniskirt, and completely demolishing your beautiful designer top.

You were completely lost in him as he devoured you, his fingers tugging your hair slightly as he continued to press you against the bed, your hips bucking and rubbing against the fabric of his pants, the thin cotton of your pants creating friction on your clit that you so elegantly craved.

You moaned loudly into his mouth, his hands still holding your wrists above your head as his mouth roamed over your body, leaving a trail of hickeys all over your neck, chest, and stomach.

His right hand came down to your pussy, pushing your pants to the side as he reveled in your wet genitalia, your pre-cum acting as a lube for his thick and dry fingers, pushing their way into your hole, scissoring them against your walls, and loosening your tight muscles that pulsed against his flesh. You groaned louder than ever as his skilled fingers moved in and out of your slick and swollen entrance, his mouth moving to your breast, nibbling and licking.

A few minutes later, your eyes were closed, and tears streamed down your cheeks as pleasure rocked through you relentlessly.

A low grunt fell from your lips as Anakin removed his fingers from your pussy, placing a kiss on your clit as he replaced his fingers with his erect cock that prodded your tight hole. “I need you inside me, Ani. My pussy has been so empty; missed you so much.” Your encouragement was the final push for him, with his head pushing into your tiny slit.

He was careful at first, making sure to enter slowly and deeply, feeling how good it felt to finally be inside you, a scream ripping itself from your throat, your nails scratching at the sheets beneath your body as you writhed and trembled underneath him. “You’re so tight, my dove. I can’t get enough of you. So beautiful.” He spoke softly, his voice strained with effort, and his eyes focused solely on your swollen opening as he thrust in and out of your body, your back arching against the mattress as he took your sweet pussy apart, splitting you on his dick.

His cock rubbed against your sensitive walls, hitting every part of your insides as he fucked you hard and fast. “I should’ve known you were so desperate for me the moment I came through the door. I could practically smell your desperation like a dog; guess I’m fucking you like a bitch though, aren’t I?” You whined as you gripped tightly to the sheets beneath you. His movements became faster and harder, hitting your most sensitive spot, his hands leaving your body and taking refuge tangled in your hair, pulling it as you let out a pleasured screech.

Your entire body shook violently with each stroke of his cock, gripping the sheet beneath you. His voice deepened as he increased the tempo of his thrusts. “Such a slut, you know that? Your pussy is so deep, she’s swallowing me whole. I missed her so bad and the way she clenched around my fat cock," he roared out, his orgasm rising as you came undone, your juices spurting as you gushed around him, clawing at his back and seemingly drawing blood. "Anakin," you sobbed as he pumped his cock faster, his hips stuttering as he came hard, his seed flooding deep inside you.

With an animalistic growl, he collapsed on top of you. His heavy breathing and harsh heartbeat filled your ears, his large body covering your smaller frame. “Once a slut, always a slut, but at least you’re mine," he muttered hoarsely, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply in your scent, a smile stretching across his face as he placed a wet kiss on your jawline, thrusting into you one last time, pushing his cum deep inside of you.

“Maybe I should get you pregnant, breed you like a little bitch, and let everybody know that this pussy belongs to me."

378 notes · View notes

morelikeravenbore · 1 month

Text

✨Sebastian Sallow spicy alphabet

These are my spicy headcanons for Sebastian when he's in a loving and committed relationship (aged up to 18+, obviously.) Based on how I imagine and write him in most of my spicy oneshots (ie a needy boi 🤭)

🍭 If you're looking for something more wholesome, I also wrote a Sebastian Sallow fluff alphabet.

🦋 A/N: all headcanons are valid, even if yours differ completely to mine.

A - Aftercare: what they’re like after sex.

Let me preface this by saying that Sebastian goes so hard and gives so much that afterwards, he's practically a boneless, wordless jellyfish man. So, while he makes sure you're okay, he mostly only has energy enough to pull you close and give you a little kissy on the head before he passes out.

B - Body part: their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s.

Since Sebastian was touch-starved and denied affection for so long, his favourite body part is his hands: touching you grounds him in reality and reminds him that you're real. He likes the versatility of his hands and the way he can coax so many different reactions from you depending on how and where he touches you. His hands are strong but his fingers are dexterous and nimble, and he uses this to his full advantage, either by caressing you as gently as if you're made of eggshells, brushing your head back from your face, tracing your lips with his thumb — or by pinning your wrists firmly above your head, making you come apart with just his fingers alone or holding you so tightly against him you can't move an inch.

His favourite body part (as I mentioned in my fluff alphabet) is your face. Watching your expressions when he's pleasuring you really gets him off. Pressing your foreheads together, breathing the same breath, intense eye contact all drive him insane.

C - Cum: anything to do with cum, basically.

Sex is a practise in vulnerability for Sebastian, so coming inside you and giving you a part of himself is the ultimate form of intimacy. He gets off on the thought of you carrying some of him inside you, and loves the feeling of you milking him dry when you come together.

D - Dirty secret: pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs.

He is needy. On the surface, Sebastian presents himself as this confident, charming assertive guy — and, generally speaking, he is; but when it comes to you, he's often so overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings that he can't control himself. Being intimate with you goes beyond physical desire, its how he expresses his love in the most pure and vulnerable way he knows how, trusting that when he bares his soul to you, you'll accept and cherish it every time. As a result, he's often at your mercy, begging you to hold him together while he falls apart for you.

E - Experience: how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

Before you, Sebastian had a little bit of experience, but he'd never been intimate with someone he truly loved, so your first time together really threw him off his game. However, he is incredibly observant, a fast learner and a very enthusiastic student, so he quickly learns what you like best.

F - Favorite position: this goes without saying.

Face to face. Whether it's missionary, straddling his lap, or pressed up against a wall, Sebastian craves that emotional connection as much as he does the physical. He goes crazy for eye contact during sex and loves having you moan and whimper into his mouth.

G - Goofy: are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

Sex, in Sebastian's opinion, is one of the most fun experiences a person can ever partake in. Laughing, tickling or being silly together usually ends in love making. If you try a new position and it doesn't work, or he attempts talking dirty and it comes out cringe, the two of you will quickly descend into fits of giggles. You have definitely laughed him out of you on several occasions.

H - Hair: how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Quite honestly, Sebastian likes the way he looks naked, and takes pride in his body, so he'd keep things neat and tidy but without going overboard. Natural, but groomed.

I - Intimacy: how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Though he's not a "typically" romantic person, Sebastian loves you more than anything or anyone in the world and expresses this most openly in the way he holds you close, kisses you, watches in awe when you fall apart for him. When words fail him, he lets his body speak — and boy does it speak.

J - Jack off: masturbation headcanon.

This boys sex drive is off the freakin charts, lol. He wakes up most mornings with an erection, and if he can't be with you, he's imagining being with you (and this happens a lot, usually at very inconvenient times). He is rather progressive when it comes to sexual health, especially for the time he's living in; having read a lot of anatomy and sexual health books (nicked from the Restricted Section, of course), he doesn't feel any shame about his sexuality, and in fact believes that masturbation is perfectly natural and healthy. In fact, if he tries to deny his urges, he finds he is less productive, more prone to frustrated outbursts, and has difficulty focusing on tasks.

K - kink: one or more of their kinks.

Praise. Sebastian loves to be told he's doing a good job. Calling him a good boy will basically short circuit his brain, but it doesn't matter whether the praise comes verbally or in the form of a mind-shattering orgasm; as long as he knows he's doing a good job, he's a very happy boy.

L - Location: favorite places to do the do.

Honestly, anywhere. He is obsessed with you, and when he needs you — he needs you. As long as he can get you away from prying eyes, he'll do it anywhere.

M - Motivation: what turns them on, gets them going?

Let's face it, it doesn't take much to get Sebastian going — just the thought of you alone is enough to turn him on — but he does especially like it when you're feeling passionate about something, whether you're fervidly telling him off for something, and your face is all cute and red from anger, or if you're rambling about something you absolutely love, or excited about something you've achieved, that spark is something that never fails to drive him crazy with lust.

N - No: something they wouldn’t do, turn offs.

While Sebastian is certainly an intense lover, he doesn't like pain-play or restriction (hands, airways, etc, either his or yours). Anything that makes him feel like he has no control over the situation tends to trigger his trauma responses and leads to anxiety. Given all this past traumas, he only wants to bring pleasure, and can't handle the thought of causing more pain or discomfort to someone he loves.

O - Oral: preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

Since he's so obsessed with your face, Sebastian looooves when you give him head and he can watch how pretty you look when you're on your knees for him. Making direct eye contact will drive him absolutely feral.

In return, he loves using his mouth on you —particularly when you're already overstimulated. and he uses his tongue to slowly coax out another shuddering orgasm.

P - Pace: are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

He likes to think he can take it slow, and usually he starts off with slow and sensual intentions: face kisses, lingering touches, long looks — but he loses himself in you so quickly that before long, he's just a sweaty, groaning sex machine. Hes got stamina though, so even when he's going hard, he's in for the long haul.

Q - Quickie: their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

Though he prefers longer sessions where he can take his time with you, he's not exactly known for his patience, and if he's feeling needy enough, he will definitely take the opportunity to take you quickly.

R - Risk: are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

As mentioned, anything that borders on painful or restrictive is a hard no for him; he just can't take pleasure from "hurting" you, even if its only for play. He does, however, love experimenting with different positions, relishing in all the ways he can use his body to make you come. Being so hungry for knowledge, he reads a lot of sexy books and loves to test

S - Stamina: how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

Sebastian isn't satisfied until you've come at least twice, but will always strive for three or four rounds. He loves sex, he loves having sex with you, and he feels an incredible sense of pride and accomplishment when he makes you feel good. So much so, that he tends to get carried away, and sometimes you have to settle him down so you can recover.

T - Toys: do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Anything an object can do, Sebastian can do better. Or at least, that's his motto, and he'll live and die by it. He won't deny you if you want to experiment with toys, but he'd prefer to rely on his own faculties to bring you pleasure.

U - Unfair: how much they like to tease.

Leading up to it, Sebastian will tease you and flirt with you like an absolute fiend, whispering dirty things into your ear or teasing your inner thighs under a table, but as soon as you're touching him, he loses all resolve. He's putty in your hands; he simply can't resist you or hold himself back. Tease you all he wants, but orgasm denial is not a term he understands when he finally has you.

V - Volume: how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Sebastian's the type to moan in your ear, or whimper into the crook of your neck, or plead desperately into your mouth. He's vocal, but he's quiet about it (and usually incomprehensible).

W - Wild card: a random headcanon for the character.

Sebastian doesn't drink. Given his infatuation with the dark arts, his obsessive tendencies and the impulsivity that lead to the death of his uncle, he avoids anything that will comprise the full control of his mind and body.

X - X-ray: let's see what’s going on under those clothes.

He's freckled all over, tall (somewhere around 6ft), lean but lightly muscular. He's got nice broad shoulders, lovely upright posture, and toned forearms with all those yummy veins. He's not particularly long, but he's thick.

Y - Yearning: how high is their sex drive?

If it were physically possible, he'd probably never stop, especially when it's with you — the person he loves with his entire being.

Z - Zzz: how quickly they fall asleep afterwards.

Immediately, lol. Sometimes while he's still on top of you, depending on the intensity and duration of the session, but he always looks so blissed out and happy that you don't mind.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow spicy headcanon #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy sebastian

272 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 28 days

Note

hi! love your blog, hope you’re happy and well.

the idea of Arcane characters being with a fem s/o with a high sex drive has been living in my head rent-free.

like, in my mind, them walking into the room and her being “””busy””” 😳😳😳 is something that’d be very likely to happen often because of her libido, could you elaborate some kinky sh based on that? pretty please?

(if you do write about it pls don’t forget to include the baddies: sevika, finn, vander, viktor, ekko, marcus)

♡ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ♡

Ekko is not a baddie, he is in fact the BESTEST EVER.

Pairing: Vander, Sevika, Marcus, Finn, Ekko, Viktor x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, high libito, masturbation, watching, masturbation instruction, lots of cum, marathon sex, dirty talk

A/N: Must be a lot to have a high libito.

Vander is so damn tired after a long day of work. All he wants to do is cuddle up next his favorite lady, maybe talk about some of the highlights of his day and then fall asleep. Imagine his surprise when he finds you masturbating instead.

Might be too tired to join you but he can always enjoy a good show. You don't have to have sex in order to have a good time and make each other feel good. Your pussy on display is enough for him.

"I come in and this is what you're up to to darlin'. Not even waiting for me, just going at it without a care in the world. You ain't gonna get shy on me now, you do what you need to do, give that hole all the attention it deservers, I'll watch you."

Sevika expected this, after all she's been dating you for a while. She's got no problem seeing you masturbating when you need it. The only thing she's mad about is you not telling her that you were in the mood.

As she approaches you she pulls your hand away from your pussy, giving it a hard slap. You didn't wait for her, now she has to punish you. But with your libito a full night of non-stop sex might be just what you need.

"See how well you'll be standing after I'm done fucking you. Not even gonna be able to touch this pussy without coming on the spot. That's it sweetheart, show me that needy cunt."

Marcus hardly has energy for much of anything after a long Enforcer shift Especially since he recently became the new boss. By now he's gotten used to walking in on you fingering yourself.

He is however in need of being in control so he wants to tell you what to do. As you take a seat on the edge of the bed he kneels down to have a better look, to make sure you're not touching when you're not supposed to. And also to kiss your pussy when you're doing good.

"Need me to keep your legs open for you sweetheart? I need to touch you too, I miss you. Wait, now, wait, I didn't say you could move your fingers yet, let the pleasure build up, then start moving them in and out very, very slowly."

Finn doesn't allow you to touch yourself without him being there to witness if. Breaking that rule means you're ready for the punishment that comes with it. No matter what it is.

For your punishment he won't let you have a wink of sleep for the entire night, he'll use you how he sees fit. Not just your pussy, and not just once. You'll never think of not obeying him again because you will never be able to match the pleasure he gives you.

"Open up kitten, come on, I said open up! You couldn't listen to my words, but you seem to be able to understand everything when you have a cock in you. Guess I'll have to keep it in all the time, to make sure you listen to what I say."

Ekko shows up exactly on time to see you get started. Did you think he'd miss this and let you have all the fun by yourself. No way is he gonna let his girl fuck herself when he can do it himself.

There are times when he's a bit late but in general he's on time, already hard and his ball full of cum for you. You want all of it, all over you and he's more than happy to let you have it. But you already had a bit of a headstart so you owe him at least one orgasm.

"All this cum on you and my Firefly still still wants more. I knew what you were like when I got together with you, and hey, you want me all day every day, what's there to be complain about. Want it again already, then get me hard again, it won't take long."

Viktor knows you're masturbating before he opens the door, you're not exactly quiet. He's happy you weren't doing it in the living room this time. There was a big mess to clean up last time.

Cock in hand he's seated and ready to masturbate with you. But if you want his fingers on you he can do that too, with him on a bed, you sucking his cock and him reaching over your soft ass to push his fingers into your wanting pussy.

"Closer darling, a bit closer, I want to get my fingers fully in there. You deserve my all if I'm gonna give you anything, I'm always willing to do this for you. I'm adding another finger, gonna make you full okay, so full, make you feel so loved."

#arcane x reader #vander x reader #sevika x reader #marcus x reader #finn x reader #ekko x reader #viktor x reader #arcane imagines #arcane headcanon #arcane smut #arcane x you #arcane x female reader #league of legends x reader #league of legends imagine #league of legends headcanon #league of legends smut #league of legends x you #league of legends x female reader #x female reader

194 notes · View notes

concreteangel92 · 2 months

Text

The Predator And His Prey

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: mask kink, slight predator/primal play, dom/sub relationship, oral (male receiving) PiV, spitting, being restrained. Pretty sure that’s it.

A/N: I definitely had a lot of fun writing this! Noah in a mask will be the death of me 🥵 and I just really wanted to get my own story out there haha hope you all enjoy!

You didn’t know you had a mask kink until you met Noah.

You’d never looked at someone in a mask before and thought ‘take me!’ you’d never watched a horror film and fawned over the masked killer. Until Noah came along.

You’d been dating for a while now, there wasn’t much you hadn’t done with each other at this point, you loved each other, trusted one another and knew one another’s bodies like the back of your hand and had tried almost every kink and position you could imagine.

But you’d felt too shy to admit to Noah that seeing him with his mask on had stirred something within you.

It was a weird mixture of emotions when you first realised, you’d gone to watch your boyfriend’s band from the side of the stage. You weren’t prepared to feel yourself clenching on nothing at the sight of him in the mask. The way he towered over you, his face hidden apart from his eyes and lips, how menacing he looked.

It also slightly frightened you at first, why did it cause this reaction? Is it normal to feel that? But the more you saw him wearing it, the less you cared.

Noah hadn’t appeared to noticed anything that first time and bent down to give you a quick kiss.

“Wish me luck?”

“Good luck”

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, your cheeks were no doubt red from embarrassment.

You watched him go out to sing artificial suicide, seeing him in full confidence owning the stage, stalking around like a predator, singing and growling to perfection was enough to make anyone swoon but with the mask, it was a thousand times hotter.

You’d been to a few of his shows now, every time seeing the mask caused a flutter, Noah also seemed to appear out of nowhere with it on, when he kissed you before a show he held your neck just that little bit tighter, almost like he was doing it on purpose.

But he hadn’t said anything and surely Noah would have questioned your reactions by now if he’d seen right?

Tonight was no different, once again you were ready to watch from the wings, Noah had been off getting his mic fitted, he gave you no warning before you had a low whisper in your ear.

“So how long until you admit it?”

You turned around with a jump to see his mask covered face in the dim lighting, his outfit making his broad build look even bigger.

“Admit what?”

“That me wearing this mask is turning you on”

Your eyes went wide and you felt your cheeks go warm.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

Noah stalked closer to you, making you back up against the wall, his hand coming to rest on your neck with a gentle squeeze and his frame towering over you.

“Really? Then why do you eye fuck me every time you see me in it? Don’t be embarrassed angel, is it the danger aspect that you like?”

Your heart was hammering in your chest which Noah would have felt with his hand around your throat.

“I don’t know”

“But you like it?”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off of him.

“5 minutes everybody!” Was shouted from down the hall, your heart sank as you knew Noah had to go.

Noah pulled you in for a deep, messy kiss by your throat before pulling away and gripping your chin tightly.

“Open”

You obeyed to his command, he tilted your head back and he spat into your mouth.

“Swallow it”

You did, your thighs pressing together as your breathing had increased.

“That’s my good girl, we’ll finish this conversation later”

And with that, Noah went off to the side of the stage leaving you up against the wall processing what had just happened.

A couple of hours later you were back at your shared home, Noah hasn’t brought anything up yet, he looked tired from the performance but definitely still full of energy, the ride back was spent talking about the home town show and how good he thought it went, you couldn’t bring yourself to mention earlier, Noah was obviously waiting for the right moment of his choosing.

Once inside, he said he was going to grab a quick shower and then he’d see you afterwards.

You quickly got yourself comfortable in a baggy top and shorts and you’d wandered downstairs to grab a glass of water to take up, you hadn’t been paying attention to your surroundings otherwise you would have heard that Noah was finished in the bathroom.

“I believe we have an unfinished conversation”

You turned around and nearly dropped the glass in your hand at the sight before you.

Noah was stood leaning up again the doorway wearing his ski mask and a pair of black trousers, his top half bare to show off his inked chest and he looked so sinfully delicious.

Your breathing became harder as he stalked towards you slowly.

“So my little angel has the hots for me in my mask eh?”

“Yes”

Noah walked closer until he was stood in front of you, removing the glass from your hand, making you feel much smaller than you actually were. You subconsciously started to move around him, your adrenaline starting to kick in and arousal running through your body.

“You nervous?”

You shook your head, a small smile was forming on your lips as you slowly continued to move around and started to back up towards the door, Noah following every step you took, his intense gaze never leaving your face.

“You can run if you like princess, it won’t do you any good. I expect you to be stripped and waiting in our bedroom by the time I get up there, is that clear?”

“Yes sir”

You turned around and went up the stairs quickly, hearing Noah’s footsteps not far behind you. Once in your room, you threw off your clothes, Noah wandering in behind you shortly after.

His eyes looking you up and down like you were his prey, he stalked towards you and ran his hand over your cheek.

“Safe word. Any time you need it yeah?”

“Yes”

Noah sat himself down on the edge of the bed.

“On your knees for me and show me exactly how much you’re loving this”

You got onto your knees in between his legs and he lifted his hips up as you pulled his trousers off, mouth watering at how hard he was already.

You wrapped your hand around and gave him a couple firm strokes before you took him into your mouth and started to hollow out your cheeks and moved slowly up and down, pulling an instant low groan from above you.

His hand came into your hair as if to guide you while swirled your tongue around him and sucked on his tip, pre cum already forming and leaving a salty taste in your mouth. You used your right hand to stroke him in time to your movements, Noah becoming increasingly more vocal.

“Fuck…that’s it baby”

Your other hand that had been resting on his thigh came down to gently cup and massage his balls while you started to move your head faster, sucking on his harder, and feeling how hot and hard he was in your mouth, you knew he wouldn’t last too much longer.

You felt a tug in your hair and pulled yourself off him while still stroking, even with the mask on, you could tell his skin was flushed.

“Move back a bit”

You shimmied back on the floor and Noah stood up, you knew he wanted to take some control back and you squeezed your thighs together.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, but you ready for me to take over?”

You nodded eagerly, Noah pumped himself a couple times while you opened your mouth for him and stuck your tongue out.

“Double tap my thigh if you need me to stop”

Noah kept his grip in your hair as he guided himself into your mouth, you relaxed yourself and Noah started to rock his hips back and forth, slowly at first to let you adjust but this didn’t last too long.

Your hands grip his thighs to keep yourself grounded, you looked up and felt yourself moaning around his length at his dominating appearance. The mask hiding most of his face but you could see his eyes were closed and mouth slightly open.

His thrusts were becoming more sloppy, you gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat and made your eyes water and you could feel your own saliva running down your chin but you didn’t care, you were in complete heaven watching him ruin you.

You moaned around him again and stroked his thighs, Noah looked down at you and pulled on your hair tighter while still rocking his hips.

“Shit…I’m going to cum, make me fucking cum”

You hollowed out your cheeks around him and sucked extra hard as you felt him finish down your throat, you swallowed down every last drop he gave you and didn’t stop until he pulled away.

Noah sat back down on the edge of the bed and pulled you up onto his lap and wiped away the tears that had run down your face. He gave you a lazy kiss, which was slightly awkward with the mask on but you still leaned into him.

He ran one hand down your stomach and you felt him run his fingers over your folds and he slipped one in.

“You’re fucking soaked”

Noah started to move his finger inside you which caused you to fall forward onto his shoulder, but he wouldn’t allow that, his other hand gripped around your throat firmly and made you look at him, adding another finger he moved them faster, your moaning coming out slightly choked due to the grip around your neck but god did it feel good.

“Look at you, such a whore for me, can you hear how wet you are? All this because of the mask, all you had to do was ask me baby and I’d have worn it sooner for you”

Noah removed his fingers and licked them clean and then positioned you back into the bed, he then went into the draw of the bedside table and pulled out some restraints.

“Normally I’d love to see you ass up, but tonight I think tided up on your back is best, let you see me ruin you with this on”

You held your hands out to Noah, desperate for him to fuck you now, you were so turned on it was unreal, you needed him to give you some relief.

He tided your hands up and restrained you to the bed, you now were completely at his mercy unable to move your arms.

“Spread your legs for me”

You opened yourself up to him, watching him pump his already hard dick again and his eyes stared into yours through the mask. This was probably one of the most vulnerable states he’d ever had you in, he looked so menacing and dangerous and you were so ready for what was about to happen.

Noah moved so he was in between your legs and lined himself up, he pushed in gently but didn’t meet any resistance and so he thrusted in all the way which caused both of you to moan out.

He wasted no time in pulling your legs up to his chest and he started an unrelenting pace, it was rough and hard and exactly what you had been waiting for.

“Noah…fuck…”

You were practically screaming, you could feel every inch of him, your arms were pulled tight as you held onto your own restraints, you stared at his strong frame pounding into you, the mask just adding to how good he looked.

You knew you wouldn’t last long, you could feel your orgasm approaching, your legs were shaking and you could feel your walls clenching around him.

Noah knowing your body, reached one hand down and rubbed hard, fast circles on your clit.

“Cum for me baby, let me feel you”

And you did, it wracked through your body and you cried out while your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut. And after a few hard thrusts you felt Noah empty himself within you and his body came down on top of yours.

You both lied there for a moment while the afterglow wore off and Noah pulled the mask off, his skin flushed red and sweaty. He reached up and undone your restraints and gave you a long, loving kiss.

“Wow”

You both laughed and cuddled up together.

“You can say that again”

“So I can safely assume that my mask can be used again?”

“Oh my god yes! That was incredible”

Noah lifted the mask up in front of you both.

“If only the fans knew what this mask has now seen the next time I’m on stage!”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #dom noah #noah sebastian fanfiction

239 notes · View notes