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#justice for the extra content
purpleshadow-star · 6 months
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Here's a reminder that ANDREW DOES HEAL AND LEARN TO FEEL. Nora never said that Andrew never heals or that he doesn't get less apathetic. She said the opposite, actually. If you don't like the extra content, that's fine, but please actually read it before deciding to spread the incorrect assumptions people have made up about it. Just because Andrew never gets to the point where he smiles and laughs all the time doesn't mean he doesn't heal.
(Also, Nora never said Andrew never smiles, just that it's hard to imagine, and if he did, it'd be with only Neil around)
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krystaldeath · 4 months
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Where are y’all getting the sprites from I had to resort to just their character art
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spumonibones · 29 days
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I was *trying* to finish writing Chapter 03 for "Feathered Vengeance," but it's too late. Hyperfixating to bang out 2-3k just isn't viable, too close to bedtime. So instead, have a XiaoVen fic idea I simply do NOT have the time or motivation to write. Maybe if I throw enough of these ideas out there someone else will be inspired and write their version.
Another reincarnation-style idea (never enough of those), canon divergence style. Venti's fear has proven to be founded, the Great Sins have been committed by the alchemists of Monstadt. The Principalities once more demand the destruction of a civilization, this time the one full of his children. The first time had been devastating enough, a cruel ask he never quite recovered from.
Barbatos cannot destroy his children, and thus he is punished. Isn't that always the way? If one dares to defy the Four Shades, they will not permit such a Sin go. They will not risk letting Barbatos resist to protect his home. Istaroth makes an attempt at mercy, but what is humane mercy to gods that only understand force and control?
The Ley Lines bring Venti back, each time without memories. For the next thirty years, as he approaches that last birthday the Erosion takes away the human memories he has... Until the ones as a deity take his last breath. Over. And over. And over. Those last years are cruel, as he loses that which he gained and remembers what he will forever continue to lose. It is a cruel curse, but the gods deem it mercy - after all, he will continue to live, will he not? Even if he will remember the fires of Khaerin'rah and Mondtadt each time in those.
When first learning of it, Xiao makes a choice of his own. The Era of Humans has taken Liyue's need for yaksha away. But after two millenia of only protecting, of only sacrificing, learning how to live is difficult. Xiao only knew how to live for others, never himself. So he chooses to find Venti each time. When Venti turns twenty, Xiao finds a way to befriend him. Every time, offers comfort and protection in those final years. Is the only familiar face in those last moments, is a hand to hold.
And then... One time, something changes. Before the memories of Barbatos return, as they will, Venti does something different. There's a kiss. A confession. It's new and terrifying and... Wonderful? Heart-breaking. Fulfilling. There's a whirlwind of emotions. Xiao can't. He doesn't understand the new sensation, doesn't understand being loved for who he is instead of what he can do. So he rejects him, retreats before it's Venti's time. Is filled with guilt, but still returns for that last month. Can't bear leaving Venti to be alone in those moments. Not when the fire destroys so much.
The next lifetime, there's time. Two and half decades to think, to decide. That time, he tries. Xiao studied and asked and practiced in a mirror and... This one, he says, "yes." Ten horrible and beautiful years pass. The next lifetime, he asks. He's given a yes.
Each lifetime there's a yes. Always a yes. No matter how many good byes there are, there's the ease of the knowledge that there will be a future with another, "hello."
A cruel cycle, but one he accepts.
Until... That next time. When their eyes meet and instead of a smile and a hello... He is greeted with a warm smile along with a, "Hello again, Xiao."
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strawbeerossi · 7 months
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Cherry
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: You decide to wear a little tank top to your lecture and you catch the attention of Dr. Reid.
Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, professor/student, age gap (r 20s, s 40s), reader is a bit of a tease, tit worship, oral (m rec), tit fucking, cum on tits.
Word Count: 1.7K
Kinktober Day Twenty Seven: Tit Fucking
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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In your defense you had to do laundry and you just didn’t have the time before your lecture. You were lucky enough to find a pair of shorts, however you were stuck with a tank top that barely covered much of anything. You made sure to get your sweater before heading out, draping it over your shoulders as you were running out of your apartment. Campus was only about a ten minute walk, so you didn’t mind too much taking the brief walk.
As you’d made it to the old building where the criminal justice classes were held, you were pushing open the doors as you headed inside. Taking the same path as usual, it wasn’t long until you were making it to the lecture hall that Dr. Reid used Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. His class was always an interesting one, your love of criminal justice being newfound. At first, you’d audited a separate criminal justice class and ended up being genuinely interested.
As you walked into the heavy doors, you were blushing as all the eyes were on you. You were late, however it wasn’t too bad. Dr. Reid wasn’t on a long tangent yet so you knew you were safe. “Please take a seat.” His voice spoke up while he offered a smile, turning his attention back to the board as he was writing his layout of the lecture. “Make sure you sign the sheet as well, I need to keep track of attendance.”
As you made your way to an empty desk towards the front of the class, you were placing your backpack by your side as you kept your gaze on the board after pulling out your laptop to take notes. You’d spent a good chunk of class asking a majority of questions or being called on. Maybe you were delusional but you felt like he was putting extra focus on you today. You had hardly spoken to your professor, so you weren’t sure why the sudden interest.
It didn’t occur to you that your attire was what had his full attention. The way the white tank top showed off a tasteful view of your cleavage was enough to make Spencer want to drool. He’d always been a fan of tits, having an affinity with them. They were just.. So perfect. Soft, warm, begging to be touched. However, he tried composing himself. You were his student. This was inappropriate.
As the class was coming to an end, you were staying after to apologize for your tardiness. Not many professors accepted such apologies but Dr. Reid was understanding. He knew what it was like to be a student who was all over the place. Today though, he wished you would’ve left. “Dr. Reid, I just wanted to apologize. I know I wasn’t too desperately late but I still feel like it’s my responsibility to let you know that I’m sorry. I didn’t respect your time,”
Spencer was turning to look at you while putting his hands up. “Nonsense. I’d never hold it against you. Things happen.” His face was red as his eyes were struggling to say locked with yours. You were a bit confused by the look on his face but you had brushed it off. “I just feel horrible,” You spoke while you let your arms cross slowly over your chest.
Whenever you did, Spencer couldn’t help but let his eyes cast downwards, your arms under your breasts enough to push them up and give him quite the sight. His hand was slowly moving to straighten out his tie as he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from your smooth skin. That was hard to ignore so you let your eyes glance down before noticing just what captivated your professor’s attention. Instead of moving to cover your partially exposed chest, you were sticking it out more. You liked the attention, if you were honest. You weren’t used to getting too much of it.
Spencer was licking over his bottom lip while letting his eyes drag up from your chest to your neck, then stopping on your face. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s inappropriate.” He stated in a simple tone while you raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean, Dr. Reid. I was just minding my own business and you were staring at my chest. I think you’re the one acting inappropriately, not to mention highly unprofessional.” You stated. There were no hard feelings actually, you just found it incredibly hot to find your professor staring at your body, a hungry look in his eyes.
“Wearing what you are wearing right now is equally inappropriate. Do you know how distracting it is whenever an attractive woman has her tits in your face for the whole lecture and after the fact?” He asked, continuing on with this little game. “You think I’m attractive? I’m flattered, sir.” You didn’t know where the rush of confidence came from, however you enjoyed this. Wearing a tank top and going braless to class wasn't a choice you’d made on purpose, however the reaction it pulled out of your professor was too good to pass up.
“I can always take it off instead?” You suggested. The mere idea being mentioned had your professor groaning lowly as he glanced at the door of the lecture hall. He didn’t have another class for thirty minutes, plus his fellow coworkers weren’t going to barge in because of their own plans. “Come here.” He grunted, waiting for you to get close enough before grabbing your tank top and tugging it down. Your tits spilled over the thin material as he did so, the male letting out a whine of sorts as he brought his hands to your chest. His hands cupped your breasts, giving them a squeeze and eliciting a whine from you. “Can’t believe you wore this to class of all places. I bet you wanted my attention.”
Your cheeks were heating up at the accusation, his hands kneading at your soft flesh as he was dipping his head down to flick his tongue against your right nipple. As he sucked and flicked at the hardened nub, your fingers tangled in his soft curls. “Fuck.” You cursed, watching as your professor was having a field day licking and sucking at your tits. He looked like a boob guy so it made sense on why he’d spend so much time in them. His warm tongue was dragging over every ounce of your skin as he alternated between nipples. While one was in his mouth, the other was being pinched and rolling through his long fingers.
By the time he’d had enough, he was pulling away with a satisfied hum as he assessed the damage he had made. There were purple marks all over your skin, nipples standing at full attention and the shine of his saliva shining under the bright lights of the lecture hall. “Get on your knees.” The man commanded. Who were you to argue? You watched as he was tugging down his pants and boxers just enough to let his hardened cock spring to life, smacking against his abdomen. You were definitely staring, mouth watering as you took in the beauty of the dick in front of you. With a slight curve and bulging veins along with a leaking head, it was a beautiful sight.
“Gonna have to have you get it wet enough so I can fuck those pretty tits of yours.” He murmured, watchinf as you were quick to take the tip of his cock in your mouth. You massaged his slit with your tongue before hearing him tell you to hurry up due to the time getting shorter and shorter until another group of students were coming in. Swallowing down his cock the best of your ability, you were letting your head move slowly along the shaft as your cheeks hollowed. Once he felt like he was lubed up enough to avoid rubbing your skin raw, his hand was roughly gripping your hair before tugging you off of him.
Your hands were coming up to your chest to push your breasts together, watching the male standing above you stroke his cock a few times before getting in a good position. His cock was sliding between them, a low groan leaving his lips. “You look so good on your knees for me.” He commented, voice low as he was starting by slowly slotting his dick through the valley of your tits. “Gonna make a mess of your chest. Gonna show you why you shouldn’t wear shit like that in my class.” He huffed, his thrusts getting a bit more intense by the minute.
As his cock slotted effortlessly through the valley of your breasts, you were dipping your head down to attempt at licking any part of him that you could with each thrust. Even with your spit lubing him up, you knew that you were going to feel the after effects later but you honestly didn’t care. His thrusts continued, eventually growing sloppy as the whines, whimpers and moans were falling from his lips. Even with some dominance, he whined and whimpered with each thrust, relishing in the feeling of your soft flesh enclosing his cock. “I’m gonna cum.” His voice slurred, thrusts still a bit sloppy but it wasn’t long until the warmth of his sticky cum was on your chest, some even on your chin from the line of fire. With his spent decorating your chest, Spencer had to grab his phone to snap a quick picture of you. “You look so sexy, I can’t help myself.” He chuckled.
As he was tucking his cock back into his bottoms and tugging them up, he was grabbing a tissue from his desk before offering it out to you, letting you get cleaned up. Once the tank top was covering your most valuable assets, he was chuckling. “You should get out of here.” He commented, making you nod as you tried to make yourself look presentable. On your way out, you stopped when you heard his voice. “Oh, by the way.” He began, making you turn.
“Never wear a tank top to my class again.”
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siphoklansan · 4 months
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❥Sippy content!
ft. Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Siphok/Sippy (yuu)
all interactions here are platonic
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she’s a little silly </3
I want to give Sippy some love because I’m tired of her GB hogging them all🙄🖐️/j
Crewel being a dad frfr but I didn’t so him justice in this pic I’ll do better next time🥹
❥Fun Fact!
Siphok is Crowley’s henchman, and usually does work around the campus. She doesn’t even study at all on some days.
More on the first point, this causes her to fall behind on her studies. But Crowley gives her a free pass.
Siphok’s work on campus includes stacking up library shelves, replacing the campus’s wallpaper, cleaning the roof and the statues of the seven and many more!
She some time serves as a hall monitor to bring students back to class. (She doesn’t really like this job, but she gets it done by chasing the students with a face like 👹)
Crewel is kind of like a father figure to Sippy, and she appreciates him a lot. He helps her after class for extra studies because she sucks at them😭
HOWEVER, she’s really good at Magic History. So that’s a plus!
here’s a spotify playlist made on her💓
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stellar-skyy · 6 months
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COURT GOSSIP — Furina x reader.
i. SUMMARY: Fontaine has a lot to say about Furina's lover. (Now with a part two!) ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Very very slight spoilers for the 4.2 archon quest, brief use of pet names (darling). iii. NOTES: Angst, reader doesn't actually make an appearance but they are talked about throughout, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 2.1k words. iv. A/N: Angst bc i lost the 50/50. This probably isn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I'm tired and I was sick of rewriting things.
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They called the relationship a lot of things. Scandalous, shocking, shameless. Shameless wasn’t the right word. Furina had plenty shame, but the taste of love had left her too excited to worry about repercussions. Careless, was more accurate.
If she had more care, she would be home by then, curled around her lover, laying with her ear pressed to their chest so she could hear their heartbeat. She wouldn’t be pacing back and forth and wearing grooves into Neuvillette’s office’s carpet.
“It is going to be alright, Lady Furina. Sit down.” Neuvillette said calmly. He was sitting still, hands folded in his lap, and to the ordinary eye he looked perfectly at ease. But Furina hadn’t spent five centuries with him without learning his mannerisms. The stiffness in his shoulders, the twitch of his eyebrow, the way his words sounded a touch too sharp; it was obvious he was just as concerned as she was.
“It’s not! Do you know what they’re saying?” Furina hissed. She threw the newspaper across his desk, letting it land in front of him with a smack. The photo of the two of them—her arms wrapped around their neck, while they kissed her cheek—took up almost the entire page, only broken up by the title.
Exclusive: Who is Lady Furina’s secret paramour?
“I must say, this is quite a poorly titled article.” Neuvillette frowned, looking closer. “The word ‘paramour’ is archaic by itself, but more than that it already implies a scandalous relationship. The word ‘secret’ is superfluous.”
“That’s not the point!” Furina practically wailed. “Look at what they’re saying!”
“Hmm… ‘Who is this mystery partner, and how did they catch the attention of the Archon herself? Is this unknown lover strategically targeting Lady Furina to attempt to obscure the justice of Fontaine?’ Ah, I see. They believe your partner to be seeking you out to gain influence of the court system.”
“How dare they! To think they would stoop to such a level to accuse my—”
“It is alright. I have already scheduled an official announcement to acknowledge the concerns and quell the rumours.”
“It’s not only that! The people are losing their respect.”
“…I am afraid I do not understand.”
“For me! They—” Furina halted. “I—I heard them today. They think of me as just some love-stricken girl. Archons above—” Neuvillette chose not to point out that she herself was an archon. “I couldn’t stand it...”
⋆ ✩ 。 ° ✩ ° 。 ✩ ⋆
It had been a pleasant morning; so pleasant that once Furina had detangled herself from her partner’s arms, she decided to take a walk.
As she strolled through the streets, the sounds of the city beginning its day and the singing of birds mingled together in a strangely beautiful symphony. They competed for the attention of whoever happened to be listening, with songbirds chirping and crooning from the tops of buildings, directly above the sounds of vendors and other salespersons trying to sell their products.
“Fresh lavender melons, straight from Inazuma!” A fruit-seller called, holding a basket filled with bright purple fruits.
Ah, Lavender Melons. They were a fairly new sight in Fontaine, only appearing after trade with Inazuma was reestablished. Perhaps she should purchase a bunch.
“Extra, extra!” a young newsboy yelled out, waving a newspaper above his head. “Read all about the latest Fontaine news, from the Fontaine Gazette! Hear about the case that divided the Chief Justice and Lady Furina!”
The newspapers were always embellished, but the Fontaine Gazette was a particularly egregious example. Not a single word in that paper was without exaggeration. Though, it was entertaining at times to look over the stories and laugh about the incredulity of it all.
She strolled over to listen to the boy’s calls, idly looking past the rows of newspapers and magazines. She withdrew one from the stand, a gaudy looking magazine with bright red headlines screaming in her face.  
The Spina di Rosula in shambles! it shrieked. Such a crude form of entertainment, the misery of others. It was good Fontaine had enough reputable newspapers to drown out the crows and calls of garbage like that.
“Extra, extra! Lady Furina has a secret lover? Read all about it here!”
In a second, the magazine in Furina’s hands slipped onto the ground, and she felt her breath catch in her chest.
She had to have misheard him; it must be a terrible mistake. She’d been too careful to hide them from the spotlight, keeping them away from the public’s claws. If they’d been discovered, the media would stop at nothing to tear them to shreds. Not to mention how she’d look if their relationship was found out—the Archon of Fontaine, falling head over heels for a mere mortal.
Furina had snatched the paper right out of the young boy’s hand. As he started protesting, she quickly threw a handful of Mora at him and bustled away to read the paper. Behind her, two ladies gasped and leaned over to whisper to each other.
“Is that Lady Furina?”
“I’m surprised she can show her face… I wouldn’t have the courage.”
Vultures, the lot of them! Had they no shame, gossiping about her from six feet away, like she couldn’t damn well hear them?
Their chatter faded to static and white noise in her ears, as the newspaper unfolded to reveal the story she’d been fearing. In it, the photo showed two lovers were caught in an embrace, one hidden in the other’s shoulder. The other was turned at just the right angle to show herself to the camera, grinning down at her partner with love in her eyes.
Furina stared in horror as her own face stared back at her.
⋆ ✩ 。 ° ✩ ° 。 ✩ ⋆
“Furina—Ahem, Lady Furina,” Neuvillette paused, blinking at his mistake. Oh dear. He must be on the verge of a breakdown, if he was already messing up her name. “We must begin the conference soon. Shall we leave?”
“I—I suppose that would be prudent,” Furina said shakily, straightening her back.
The trip to the Opera Epiclese was filled with silence. Furina stared at her hands in her lap, picking at the edges of her gloves, while Neuvillette gripped his cane tightly and periodically shot her concerned looks. The only words that were spoken were after they had arrived.
“Are you ready?” Neuvillette asked, hand curled around the curtain separating their backstage room to the front balcony.
“No,” Furina whispered hollowly, before smoothing her features into neutrality and stepping onto the stage.
“Hello, my dears.” Her lips moved of their own accord; voice disconnected from her mind. “I am here to address some rumours you may have heard. If you have been following the news, you would know that some pictures have been spreading of me and another individual. Since then, there has been a number of gossip floating around the court, very little of which is based on fact.”
“Tch, she’s already trying to avoid the blame.” A particularly loud audience member commented, loud enough for Furina to hear. She hesitated for a moment, before continuing.
“This person is as many have suspected,” Furina breathed out. “A romantic partner.”
“Ms Furina!” A young man—notebook and pen in hand; a reporter, likely—yelled out. Furina bit back the haughty That is Lady Furina to you on her tongue. Arrogance wouldn’t serve her well in this performance. “People have been saying that this ‘lover’ of yours is a threat to the integrity of the justice system. How do you respond to the allegations that they are using you to sway the court?”
“T-That isn’t true! They—”
“How can we trust the Palais Mermonia if the Archon is being influenced?” A voice in the front row whispered loudly to her friend.
“If she’s that weak to the charm of a random person, then what does that say about her judgement?” Another responded.
“I—” Furina stuttered out. “P-Please, calm yourselves! I can explain myself if you just wait—”
“Is this really what Fontaine is coming to?” That pesky reporter yelled out, only stirring the chaos further. The courtroom erupted into noise, all overlapping opinions drowning out any conscious thought of hers.
“Childish—”
“Unprofessional—”
“Not fit to lead—”
“—If she’s so distracted by love.”
If the first words were a punch in the gut, the last were certainly a strike straight to her skull. She flinched, her resolve cracking enough to let the throes of panic wash over her face. It was all too much: the lights, the noise, the audience.
But she was used to commotion. She had been acting for centuries.
In the drama, she had almost forgotten her place; the Court of Fontaine was her stage, and she was the leading actress. The citizens before her were the audience to her performance, and she was damned if she wasn’t to put on a show for them.
With a deep breath, she slipped right back into the façade, smoothing over the cracks in her mask with inhuman poise.
“They say the true tragedy of godhood, is one never gets the chance to live like a human.” Furina smiled coyly, playing up the eccentric goddess act that she had been cultivating for centuries. “So many experiences we are robbed of; growing up, falling in love.”
“You wanted to be human?” An audience member called out. Young woman, nervous expression. Perfect extra for Furina’s show.
She turned to stare her in the eyes, coy grin lighting up her features. “Tell me, dear. Have you ever had a lover of your own?”
 “M-me?!” She squeaked. “Oh… I-I haven’t really had a girlfriend. B-But I have been in a… relationship of sorts.” The audience member spluttered and blushed. “A… summer fling, I suppose.”
“Well, wouldn’t I be a fool not to chase a summer fling of my own?” Furina tilted back her head with a laugh, letting her voice boom across the Opera with the confidence that left the audience hanging on her every word. “Oh, my dearest citizens. Do you think so lowly of me to think I’d let a brief bit of romance keep me from my duties? That I would be blinded by something so silly as love?”
“You don’t love them?” Another nervous audience member asked.
Yes, Furina wanted to scream. I love them more than I have ever loved anything in this world.
“Ah, love. Such a novel concept.” She loved them, she did. Oh, how she hoped they would forgive them for this. “The only love I hold is for my people and my nation! I need no lover, when I already have the love of my beautiful Fontaine.”
“I believe we have strayed off-topic,” Neuvillette said, smoothly shifting their attention to him. “The Court of Fontaine retains that this individual carries no influence over Lady Furina, the Palais Mermonia or the Fontainian justice system. This… relationship is something inconsequential that has no effect over Lady Furina’s work, and is not of a concern to Fontaine’s citizens.” Damn right it wasn’t their concern. “To put it frankly, this person is of no significance at all.”
Only Neuvillette was close enough to hear the sharp gasp that escaped her.
“This conference is hereby adjourned.”
They were going to hate her.
How was she supposed to look them in the eyes, after telling an entire courtroom that they were of no importance to her? The love of her life, the one who brought light into the world and a smile of genuine joy upon her face with just their presence. She imagined them watching the court; hearing her words, feeling them strike against their skin like blades.
They were going to hate her, and she would let them.
She would let them hate her, if it meant the public would forget their name. The moment they disappeared from the light, then the rumours would disappear just the same.
And a part of her—a small, barely noticeable, inconsequential part of her, but a part of her nonetheless—breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that her balance hadn’t been overturned. It was selfish, she knew that, and the thought disgusted her as much as it brought her comfort. That part whispered that it was for the best, not just for them but for her as well. Her reputation was secure, they were quietly pushed away from the light, and the scandal would die down quickly.
Furina stumbled backstage, stomach spinning. She leaned heavily against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, dreading the moment she would have to go home and face her lover after what she had done.
“Oh, darling.” She murmured. “Please forgive me.”
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reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
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saerins · 3 months
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#001 SUDDENLY, COLORS 𖧧 NEXT: #002 PLAYING DOMINO ꒰ series masterlist ꒱
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꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — sae gets more than he bargained for when he decides to entertain you. and then suddenly, maybe he isn’t so indifferent to everything after all.
content: itoshi sae x female reader. bllk guys here are all pro players now. profanity, complicated relationships, reader is a working adult, implied ex-fwb situation with otoya, minorly questionable work ethics, mention of infidelity. word count: 3.8k.
༝༚༝༚ first chapter ! (bear with me because we’re gonna be in the early stages of sae & y/n getting to know each other) i hope you guys like this one as much as infy >_< the dynamic between yn & sae here is slightly different heh :) if you’re reading this: ily <3 + will add little mini extra facts at the end of each chapter ^_^
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lights flashing, red carpets, familiar faces that feel so out of reach.
there’s an entire life out here that people like you, should you have been without connections, won’t get to experience in your lifetime. it’s eye-opening, and more than you bargained for. sure, when you heard that this is a party thrown by one of the japan’s national soccer team’s sponsors, you expected a lot of a-list names, but to think it’s this many.
beautiful, handsome people litter every corner of the destination, enough to fill anyone with a year’s worth of anxieties just simply looking at them. to think, this is the kind of life they live in the regular; photographed by everyone, welcomed and greeted like royalty by staff and strangers alike.
it’s nothing you can ever get used to. luckily, you don’t have to.
you stand at the top of the stairs in the venue, looking around as you try to spot your friend. on the ground floor, you see many people huddled in different groups, smiles plastered together as they catch up with one another. all you can hear are everyone’s voice and laughters muffled together and melding into one giant mess. many movie stars, models, athletes all gathered in one place, commanding the attention of everyone in the room as well as those who are watching the livestreams from home. that’s to be expected though, considering this is a party thrown by the top sports brand in japan—surely supporters and fans alike are tuning in from all over just to see their favourite celebrities.
you bet the chat is getting blown up with comments about how the captain of the soccer team looks absolutely handsome when he cleans up, or how the up and coming setter in the volleyball team is a quiet assassin if looks could kill.
there’s a vibration in your purse, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you fish your phone out to see that it’s from eita.
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you slowly make your way down the stairs, carefully so that you don’t accidentally catch your heels against the bright red fabric under you. it’s not everyday you get invited to events like this, and it’s certainly not everyday you get to wear something this nice—you don’t want to end up falling face flat in front of all these important (and famous, or infamous) people.
you make a mental note to yourself to thank eita again for getting you this dress.
as you look around the floor, trying to spot whatever private booth eita’s in, your eyes flick across the top of someone’s head. somebody that could catch anyone’s attention. those alluring eyes and that tall frame. you catch your breath.
eita can wait. maybe you should take a detour first.
as you’re drawing closer to him, you can’t help but think how much more handsome he is in person; all you’d been able to see of him thus far is whatever you saw through the screen, or in paper from the photoshoots he’d been a part of. now that you’re looking at him in the flesh, you don’t think they do him justice. not by a long shot. he’s still handsome as hell in whichever form of media he’s in, but in real life, they have nothing on his actual person.
his lips look soft and pink right there in front of you, and his lashes frame his eyes just perfectly that you’re almost envious.
in all fairness, you’re not used to talking to mega huge celebrities like him. he’s a pro-athlete, but his popularity is in the millions, his talent for being japan’s best offensive midfielder skyrocketing him to fame at the young age of eighteen.
nearly ten years later and he’s somehow still topping the lists for most popular male athletes from japan.
opportunities like this don’t come easy, especially for people like you—you’re not stupid enough to not take it. with a deep breath, you put your game face on; he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t have to know the real you, just the you that you want to show him.
somehow, he manages to make your heart beat faster than anyone else in the room, and he hasn’t even looked your way. half of you is telling yourself you’re doing this for a friend, but the other half of you is selfish, it wants to see what this is all about.
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“what are you having?”
the moment you set your purse down on the bar, choosing to stand beside him instead of being a normal person and settling in front of the bartender to get his attention for your drinks, sae finds himself perplexed.
there are many reasons people would want to talk to him for. if you’re from the sponsor’s team, then you’d want to run a collaboration idea by him. if you’re another celebrity, then you’d probably be asking for a picture. if you’re press, well, your occupation is an answer in and of itself.
for the first time, sae’s eyes land on you. on that smile, on your eyes.
dim lights, violets and pinks bouncing off the disco ball, and somehow you do look pretty in spite all that. he’s never seen you before, but then again, he doesn’t pay attention enough to anything in the media for him to be able to know all the celebrities in japan. you have to be one, right? he doesn’t see the press card around your neck.
your dress hugs your body nicely. it’s all black, and a one-shoulder. your thin gold necklace holds a feather charm at the end. the way you tuck your hair carefully behind your ear unveils your matching earrings. you’re pretty, very pretty. but he thinks you’re about to be a pain soon enough. and that probably cancels it out.
“water.”
maybe if he’s boring enough, you’ll leave him alone. maybe if he’s rude enough, he’ll drive you away. that’s the whole point of why he’s here anyway, to escape those pointless conversations with these media… acquaintances, and oliver and the others were being nuisances in the booth anyway. so much so that he needed a breather.
unless you’re offering an escape, he won’t entertain anything.
“do you have a game tomorrow?” you ask, setting your phone down on the tabletop. a measly excuse for a conversation starter but he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to see where you’re going with this.
is that why you think he’s drinking water? he shakes his head, “no.”
what do you want with him?
“don’t tell me you’re a lightweight,” you guess, smirking at him.
sae can’t figure you out; where other people are easy to guess, he can’t make heads or tails about you. why hasn’t he asked you to leave him alone yet? better yet, why hasn’t his own two feet walked away like he intended to before you came and smiled at him?
“just didn’t feel like drinking,” sae tells you. (you actually guessed right, but there’s no way he’s going to admit to that out of the blue.)
you hum in contemplation, your head resting against your balled fist as you look at him, pursing your lips like you’re thinking of something. he finds himself wondering exactly that: what the fuck are you thinking?
right now, you’re a mix between being interesting and annoying and he’s kind of leaning towards the latter.
all of a sudden, you fish a coin out of your purse, grinning.
“you look like you want me to leave you alone,” you tell him, sighing, though you’re probably not so much disappointed or affected as much as being playful, like one of those children that like to test the limits of their parents. you’re perceptive at least, he’ll give you that. “how about a deal? i’ll toss this coin, and if it lands on heads, you’ll do me a favour, no questions asked. if it lands on tails, i’ll do the same. then you can tell me to go away.” 
to be fair, sae could just walk away and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
“fine.”
so why? why is he agreeing to your terms?
you flick the coin into the air with your thumb, and sae watches your face as you anticipate the results. you’re staring so intently at such an inconsequential coin that he finds it both comical and troublesome. there’s something both alluring and childish about your presence.
“aha! heads!” you shout excitedly, and sae tries to keep his head down to avoid any unwanted attention. if you cause anyone to come over and pull him aside for some small talk he’s going to kill you. you look so blissfully ignorant of that fact, though. lucky for him, almost everyone around you seems too self-absorbed to care. “looks like you owe me something.”
sae sighs. “i have the feeling i’m gonna regret this,” he mumbles to himself, though you’re blatantly beaming at him, excited at your little win. you shouldn’t be; if it’s too troublesome sae would still shoot you down. he reminds himself that he doesn’t even have to follow through with the bet—who are you to him? “what do you want?”
“i’ll tell you later,” you answer, not missing a beat, ordering a shot of vodka and having it slid over to you. you down it in a second, looking even more invigorated.
does alcohol wake you up even more?
something tells sae that he’ll get nothing out of this conversation, so the gears are already turning in his head on how to slip out of this situation, make a break for the bathroom or something. “this sounds like a hassle, so i’m just gonna leave—”
“is soccer all you care about?”
“huh?”
yeah, you’re definitely leaning more towards annoying.
as he expected, you continue speaking without even listening to him. still, that’s not the kind of topic he thought you had in mind. soccer? you don’t seem like a fanatic.
“i mean, do you do anything else outside of soccer? like play games? or, i don’t know, have some secret hobby like sewing?”
sae deadpans at that last one. what do you want to know? his secrets? he’ll definitely stick with his plan of being boring. you’ll probably give up sooner or later. “no. just soccer.”
you press your lips into a firm line, like you know he’s full of it but you don’t immediately call him out. “no hobbies outside of soccer? okay.”
“yes, i have no life.”
he nearly smirks at the horrified pout that graces your lips. your scepticism nearly makes him laugh, but he holds it in. you’re probably messing with him, but he can do just the same.
“heard that your little brother scored the winning goal at the champion’s league game, how do you feel about that?” you down another shot.
sae snorts at your obvious discontent at his disinterest, though it goes over your head because maybe you’re a little lightweight too.
“yeah, i was there. i mean, i’m proud of him if that’s what you’re looking for,” he tells you—something so generic and so bland that you can probably form the answers in your head yourself.
your line of questioning continues despite sae’s half-assed participation. maybe he’s only entertaining you because he doesn’t feel like entertaining anyone else. and maybe because he probably won’t see you again so he wouldn’t feel the need to be cautiously polite around you (and so his manager won’t nag him about keeping up an image). from what he gathers, you’re probably not a celebrity—call it his gut instinct. you sure look like one, but you don’t act like them.
there’s the incessant vibrating of his phone in his pants pocket that he ignores. meanwhile you’re accepting his lacklustre answers left and right.
“actually i’m curious, itoshi sae, who’s your best friend? some say it’s ryusei shidou and others say it’s oliver aiku. what do you say?”
he leans an elbow against the table, staring you straight in the eye. you’re looking right back at him, a smugness in those irises.
“who are you, by the way?” he asks, because despite him entertaining you for—he checks his watch—nearly half an hour, he still doesn’t even know your name. and clearly, you know all about him. or at least, what the internet can provide.
you inch closer, grinning despite the scowl on his face. “let me change the question,” you propose, because you’re always so adept at switching subjects when it benefits you, pupils scanning your immediate surroundings briefly before you lean in to whisper in his ear. “people like to say you’re hard to get, is that true?”
(because that’s what it seems like—from press coverage to girls, it doesn’t look like it’s easy to garner his interest and thus consequently his effort. if there’s one thing everyone can agree on about itoshi sae is that he screams exclusivity.)
he clenches his jaw when he feels your breath hit his ear, and he hates himself for staying this long because the moment you see his ears go red, you’re smirking.
“is there anything wrong with not wanting to waste time with people who won’t matter in a matter of days?” and that’s probably the only completely honest answer he’s given you for the night—because he doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t see making it into his future. he can’t say that for work purposes since it’s his team who manages everything, but as far as his personal life goes, that’s all you have to know.
that’s all he’s going to give you.
from the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar face, the light in their eyes going dark when they realise you’d been taking up his time.
“heading off already?” you ask, sensing his restlessness.
“yeah, well, i gave you a lot already, so…” he trails off, just hoping you’ll get the hint and leave him be.
you nod, taking your phone off the table, fishing something else out of your purse but sae’s too preoccupied looking at someone else to notice.
and just like earlier, you inch even closer, finally commanding his attention. sae catches a whiff of your perfume, a hint of sweet mixed with a little spice. you’re so close now that all he sees is you, and for some reason, he’s not moving.
you’re so close he can count the lashes on your eyes, can tell your lipstick’s not really pink but more mauve, can see up close that ever-growing smirk of yours when you catch him off-guard. and he expects you to stop, just like you did earlier, but you’re coming even closer and for some reason he can’t help but close his eyes, long lashes briefly brushing your face before he feels it go away.
when he opens his eyes, you’re not smirking anymore. that playful smirk is gone and replaced by—he can’t really tell—bashfulness? is he hallucinating the heat that built up to your cheeks?
“thanks for wasting some time on me,” you whisper, slipping something into his jacket pocket before walking away, a wave of your fingers all that you give.
and sae’s left wondering if he really was just about to let you kiss him if you didn’t move away.
he watches as you head off in the direction of the booths, a surprise washing over his face when he sees a familiar face taking your hand at the top of the first flight of stairs. that head of white with a hint of green—you know otoya?
sae takes out the piece of paper you slipped in his pocket—a name card. your name is y/n, apparently, and you work for a magazine. he scoffs, realising the intentions behind your earlier attempt to get him to talk. behind, you’d scribbled really quickly: the favour: approve this interview please? :D
you really are… something. by the way you questioned him, and your questions by itself, you must not have done this for very long. it’s a nice attempt though. still, sae has no reason to play along.
he can’t help but wonder, though—that last question: was it for the magazine, or your personal curiosity? his eyes linger on the phone number at the bottom of your card.
“hey, who was that?”
sae turns his attention to the girl he saw earlier, now in front of him, curious eyes following you as otoya walks you to their table. he quickly slips the name card back into his pocket. “dunno, she was just asking where otoya was.”
as the girl drags him away by the hand, he looks back, catching a glimpse of you staring at him before otoya guides you to the table, his hand on the small of your back, and then you fade out of view.
maybe, just for once, he’ll play along. again. because there’s something inexplicable about you, about your existence.
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“look who made it back in one piece,” oliver exclaims as sae makes his way back to their table a couple of hours later, taking a seat next to the man himself. “what did bianca want you for this time?”
shidou puts down his glass of champagne to wince at sae, a pitiful glance thrown his way. “she's kinda territorial, bro. blink if you need help.”
snickers are heard around the table, most of them knowing how exasperated sae can get sometimes, even if he never actually says anything.
“you know if you guys are dating, you can just tell us right?” karasu teases, joining in the conversation.
sae rolls his eyes, ignoring them entirely. the topic about him and bianca had gone completely stale for him. honestly, if his manager didn’t convince him that he absolutely had to attend till the end, sae would’ve left halfway. maybe he wouldn’t have attended at all if he had a choice in his own schedule. then again, if he didn’t come tonight, he wouldn’t have met you.
is that a good thing?
speaking of, there’s a lack of your presence here that just mildly disappoints him. mildly.
“where’s your friend?” sae asks otoya, who’s busy typing away at his phone.
his fingers stop, and he cocks a brow at sae’s question, more confused by the fact that sae is bothering to ask such a thing. “she had a thing so she left earlier,” he says, brushing it off. “why? did you need anything? saw her talking to you just now.”
it’s like they both can sense the sudden interest of everyone around the table.
sae shakes his head, leaning back against the chair. “nothing.”
sensing something amiss, oliver leans forward, looking the most interested he’s been all night. “oh? sae of all people asking about a girl? don’t see that often,” he mocks, and sae sighs internally, immediately regretting opening his mouth.
“gotta hand it to you, though,” karasu says, nudging otoya on the elbow. “she’s pretty.”
“isn’t she that girl you said that slapped you so hard back in high school that you cried?” yukimiya joins in, his statement making the guys burst into laughter.
otoya groans, shrinking in his seat. “shut the fuck up. she was being annoying.”
“nah, she was just keeping eita in check after she heard he cheated on his girlfriend,” karasu fills in the gaps for everyone.
sae listens quietly to them divulge bits and pieces of you that they got from otoya back when you were still there with them.
apparently, you’ve known otoya since middle school, and you’ve been friends all the way till university until you drifted apart for some reason (that otoya won’t share). sae thinks it probably has to do with that “we used to fool around” statement of his. at least, unlike any of the girls he fools around with, otoya never entertained lewd questions regarding you.
were you special to him?
“tell us more,” yukimiya taunts, fully enjoying the tinge of red he sees on otoya’s ears.
“she’s just a girl who likes to clear out my fridge all the time. annoying pest i can’t get rid of,” otoya says, though everyone knows that it’s just his sharp tongue at work. he looks like he’s close to malfunctioning, a sight that sae has never seen before, fully earning his intrigue.
thankfully for otoya, oliver shifts the attention (unfortunately) to sae. “no, what i wanna know is, how a girl like y/n managed to catch this guy’s interest,” he says, pointing to sae, a cocky grin on his face. “so spill, are you interested?”
that must mean that you and otoya have nothing going on then? not that he’s curious. and not that he would put it past oliver to suggest that he steal you from someone else.
he’s not even sure why all these thoughts are in his head in the first place. sae puts on his best poker face, raising his brows as if in silent denial. “i’m not.”
oliver’s grin mirrors that of the cheshire cat, and it’s all sae has to see to know that he’s about to suggest something that will earn a ripple in the timeline.
“otoya, phone,” oliver demands, and otoya nonchalantly slides his phone over. a quick few taps of his fingers and he finds your public profile before sliding otoya’s phone over to sae. “there, follow her then, if it’s nothing.”
despite seemingly doing this all for fun, oliver is betting on much more than that. if he gets to see what the whole big deal is, why not? on the one hand, otoya is refusing to say anything about his real feelings about you. on the other, sae is refusing as well to admit that maybe he’s a little bit charmed by you.
sure, asking sae to follow you is like sending a whole army of girls chasing after a baby with a very prized candy but oliver barely knows you, so it’s fair game where he stands. besides, he’s not forcing sae to do it. he just knows he will—sae never bothers showing interest in anything, let alone a woman. he’s not following any girls either apart from other celebrities, and that’s because they cornered him to it. if he does this, you’re the only comparatively normal girl he’ll follow. sae might not be aware of the implications and whatnot, but oliver sure does. it’ll take a while for it to show, but he’ll wait patiently.
the only reason otoya hasn’t been subjected to that same problem for following you is because his popularity doesn’t come close to sae’s. not even oliver’s comes close. neither are their fans as rabid as his.
and when sae scoffs and takes out his phone to do just what oliver expects him to, oliver’s eyes flick over to look at otoya, a certain unsettled look in his friend’s eyes. neither guys are ever straightforward with their feelings—he leans back and relaxes, waiting for a show.
whoever you are, y/n, whatever you have going on, good luck to you.
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extras !
sae and bianca go way back, but so do y/n and eita! the latter more so than the former.
this is y/n’s first time ever attending an event like this in her x years of knowing eita.
sae’s group of friends consist of: oliver, otoya, shidou, karasu, yukimiya and sendou. (sendou has a conflicting schedule so he wasn’t there that night.)
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taglist! @yuzurins @raphsimp @mxplesyrvp @lust4rin @saeskiss
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purple-plum-petals · 1 year
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Hello there, so it’s my first time requesting for you and I read all the rules and I think I’m ready to request, so Glamrock Freddy, Monty, Sunrise and Moondrop x gn! Reader, (separately), where the reader is giving more attention to the animatronics plushies, rather them the real ones, headcanons. Thank you and feel free to ignore if you find this request confusing.
Ps: this message might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages lately, so sorry 😅. Anyways, thank you.
—⊱ I’m Right Here ⊰ || Freddy, Monty, Sun, and Moon (Separate) X Reader Headcanons
╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮       Character(s): Glamrock Freddy, Montgomery Gator, Daycare Attendant/Sun and Moon (FNaF: Security Breach)        Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Jealousy/Slight Possessiveness, Physical Touch (Hugging, Kissing, etc.) – Besides that, Nothing!        Genre: Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship        Word Count: ~1,740 words        Request: “Hello there, so it’s my first time requesting for you and I read all the rules and I think I’m ready to request, so Glamrock Freddy, Monty, Sunrise and Moondrop x gn! Reader, (separately), where the reader is giving more attention to the animatronics plushies, rather them the real ones, headcanons. Thank you and feel free to ignore if you find this request confusing. Ps: this message might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages lately, so sorry 😅. Anyways, thank you.”        Author’s Note: Don’t worry, this request wasn’t confusing at all – I actually found it really cute and fairly easy to write (sometimes I like requests that don’t take that much brain power haha)! I know other writers have done similar requests, but I just eat this stuff up every time I see it. There’s just something so funny to me about characters getting jealous over a plushie. I hope you like it, and I hope I was able to do your request justice! FYI: All of the characters can be read platonically, but I did add an extra bullet point for each that leans more into romantic territory and is marked as such! (Also, my Sun and Moon bias is showing.)
      → If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯
⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆
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     🐻: Freddy doesn’t get jealous very easily; in fact, he’s probably the least possessive animatronic in the entire Pizzaplex (with Chica being a close second)! So, when he notices you fawning over a plushie of himself you bought for yourself at the gift shop, he actually finds it quite adorable. You just look so cute treating the mini/softer version of himself as if it was alive! He may even take a few pictures of the sweet display. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest that you’re excited about your new plushie.
     🐻: However, he does start wondering if you’re trying to make him jealous after a few days of this behavior. In the beginning, he just thought you were excited to have a new stuffed animal for your collection, but he now had a sneaking suspicion that you were doing this on purpose. So, being the mature fellow that he is, Freddy decides to just ask you directly about your behavior. He even tells you that you almost purposefully ignoring him in favor of a stuffed toy makes him feel… not so great.
     🐻: Oh no, your “Make-Freddy-Jealous” plan backfired exponentially – all you ended up doing was make him feel bad! You just wanted to know if he could even feel an emotion like jealousy considering how open and emotionally mature he was… guess you got your answer there. You quickly apologize to Freddy, though, telling him that you could never love a stuffed animal more than you love and care about him. Thankfully Freddy isn’t the type of animatronic to hold a grudge, so your words make his mood brighten immediately. He forgives you fairly quickly since he knows you didn’t mean any harm by your little prank, but he will bring it up in the future to lightheartedly tease you over such a childish stunt.
     🐻 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): Freddy will just watch you with a somewhat blank stare as you essentially drown the plush in a sea of kisses. There it is, that uncomfortable feeling again… So, he makes his way over to you, gently removing the plush from your grasp and bringing your hands up to cup his face. Freddy smiles at you gently and, with the plushie completely forgotten due to how cute the animatronic in front of you was, you instead started placing kisses all over his faceplate as you both giggle about the absurdity of the situation.
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     🐊: Monty was very quickly not happy with the plushie of himself you managed to win in a crane game while you were slacking off taking a break in the Fazcade. At first, he felt his ego soar when he noticed how happy you were to have a smaller stuffed version of himself as you showed it off to him and some of his bandmates, but that feeling quickly faded with all of the attention you were currently giving it and not him (Monty is the complete opposite of Freddy when it comes to jealousy). You two were supposed to be playing golf, not fawning over some stupid doll.
     🐊: He fairly quickly comes up with an idea to get rid of the thing so you two could continue on with your usual hangout routine. Without much more thought to his plan, he goes to enact it. Monty points out something across the course and, when your attention is diverted, he “accidentally” knocks your plushie out of your hands and into the chlorinated water that weaves in and out of the golf course. At first, he finds the look on your face funny, but that’s quickly replaced with guilt when he sees your eyes start tearing up.
     🐊: He quickly grabs the plushie from the water and, with you following close behind him, takes it to one of the staff break rooms where a washer and dryer were located (they were there in case your uniform got dirty in one way or another – it was an establishment primarily for kids, after all, so stains were quite common). He apologizes in a painfully Monty way and, after some more crocodile tears from you, you eventually accept his apology when your beloved prize comes out of the dryer unscathed and only smelling slightly like a public pool. Not that much different from the real thing, honestly.
     🐊 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): As soon as Monty sees you place a single kiss on the plushie’s face, it’s over for the poor thing. The exact moment your lips make contact with the cottony material, it is hastily grabbed out of your hands and flung across the room, bouncing off the wall with a comedic squeak. It’s unscathed since Monty knows how much you like the stupid thing, but he’s not letting you go near it for the rest of the night. He’ll just fling himself across your lap, making you essentially stuck in place as he demands to have your undivided attention.
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     ☀️: When he sees you holding and doting over a stuffed version of himself one of the kids gave to you as a present, Sun feels his non-existent heart soar over the metaphorical moon; you just looked so cute playing with the mini Sun plushie alongside the children! However, once all the kids had left with their respective guardians, you were still playing with the doll. Well, that was strange – normally you’d be spending the last half hour of your shift spending one-on-one time with him. As more time passed and the time for you to clock out was nearing, Sun took it into his own hands to get your attention back on him.
     ☀️: Sun made his way over to you with a smile, easily snatching the plush from your hands and running around the daycare with it in his grasp. If you weren’t going to pay attention to him yourself, he just had to make you! You do as he expected, chasing him around almost as if you two were playing tag (or more in this case keep away). This isn’t quite what he wanted, but Sun was glad you were at least spending time with him, even if said time was mostly you yelling at him as you took time to catch your breath after running around for however long.
     ☀️: For good measure, Sun even puts the plush in timeout on a shelf far above where you could grab it without the need for a stepstool; it was a pain how tall the animatronics were sometimes (plus the fact you couldn’t find a single stepstool in the entire daycare). With crossed arms and a stern façade, Sun asks why bother playing with something that can’t even play back. After all, he thought you liked spending time with him before your shift ended! Believe it or not, Sun has a slight manipulative streak and, since he knows you have a soft spot for him, it doesn’t take very much convincing for you to spend the rest of your shift making arts and crafts rather than fawning over a plushie.
     ☀️ (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): Sun stares you down like a hawk from across the daycare as you place feathery kisses all over the face of the mini Sun. Thankfully the children were gone, so now he could enact his revenge for having to see you fawn over the plush for the past however many hours. Sun makes his way over to you and, without any warning, lifts you up in his arms and holds you the exact same way you’re holding the doll in your hands, placing his unique “kisses” all over your face just as you had done to the plush. Eventually the stuffed toy is forgotten in favor of giving your favorite animatronic your undivided attention.
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     🌙: Moon pretty much immediately knows you’re up to something due to the strange amount of attention you were giving the small plushie version of himself. He’s sitting on the floor, cradling one of the children who is fast asleep in his arms as he glared at you from across the daycare. You were babying the mini Moon doll, giving it more attention than you had ever given him. As much as he hated to admit it, it was quite an annoying sight to see. He had no clue why he was becoming jealous over a plush, but he needed to get rid of the thing fast.
     🌙: Gently setting the child down on the soft mat in front of him, Moon silently made his way over to where you were sitting as you fiddled with the small bell on the plushie’s hat. You didn’t even notice Moon approaching until the plush was ripped out of your hands, the small bell jingling as Moon dangled it above your head with a smirk. You were going to shout at him, but he quickly cut that idea off by placing a finger to his mouth and making a “shh” noise between his closed teeth.
     🌙: However, no matter how much you quietly pleaded for him to give it back, Moon drew his arm back and flung the plushie over the glass walls. It landed in the net that surrounded the daycare and now had to sit there before you’d be able to retrieve it after closing. Moon didn’t feel bad in the slightest since you’d easily be able to get it back, but now you were ignoring him on purpose. Oh well, he’s sure you’ll get over it before the night ended. If you gave him the silent treatment for days, however, he would eventually apologize for throwing your stupid doll into the net.
     🌙 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): The lights were off and you two were finally able to have some time to spend with one another, but here you were kissing a doll of the very animatronic you were supposed to be hanging out with right at that moment. Was Moon jealous over a stuffed toy? Perhaps he was, but he knew a fairly easy way to get your attention back on him. Walking over to where you were currently sitting, Moon sat down beside you and wormed his way into your lap, grabbing your face after batting the plush out of your hands before pulling you down and placing a feathery light kiss on your lips. Now that was certainly one way to get your attention, but it definitely worked out in the end.
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cozage · 1 year
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Please, please, PLEASE MAKE A FOLLOW-UP ON LAW ON THE DARE CHALLENGE
😭😭😭😭😭
A/N: Did someone order Law x reader with an extra slow burn??? Oh my sweet sweet anon I love you and everyone else who requested this. This was such a pleasure to write. I truly hope I did it justice and made up for not having a section for him earlier. For those who are new here, this is part two for an earlier headcanon list I did. Check that out first for more context.
Characters: GN! reader x Law
Cw: NSFW. MINORS - DNI. I promise I’ll have so much other content for you to consume, please respect me and my work and keep scrolling. If I catch a minor on my NSFW posts, I will block you (and then you don't get to see any of my writing! So just skip this one.)
Total word count: 4.2k
tag list: @error404-tryagain @jadedrrose @patchofblue @nikos-a-clown @evilunicorns4minions @reader101 @gaynerdnotkid @augustanna @uchihabbynic
Push and Pull
“Y/N-ya, what the hell was that?” You could hear the frustration in his voice follow after you as you dashed out of the room and retreated down the hallway. The game was finally over. The moment Shachi released you from your place on Law’s lap you had made a beeline for your room. 
“N-Nothing!” You keep moving, feeling heat rise to your face at the thought of your earlier flirtation attempt. Shachi may have been the one to force you to do it, but it would have been a lot better if you hadn’t fumbled it so badly. 
Law quickly caught up to you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back from your escape. He spins you around to face him, and he towers over you. His face was contorted with such anger that you instinctively shrank away from him.
“Did Shachi put you up to that?” His face had softened some and you could tell he was attempting to control his voice, but his anger was apparent. You hesitated, which was enough of an answer for him. You could feel his grip tighten on your wrist, and you resist the urge not to squirm away from him again. You want to be far away from him and his rage, which now appeared to be centered on your crew mates. You could hear their laughs echoing from the common room, and Law glared in their direction.  
“I’m sorry you had to do that,” he says, still facing the common area. You start to respond, wanting to let Law know that it wasn’t a big deal, but he’s already dropped your wrist and is striding back to the common room. A dark aura is rolling off him as he heads towards the crew, and you turn on your heels and bolt to your room, thankful for an escape.
--
You make yourself scarce over the next few days, and the captain seems to be doing the same. You stay locked in your room, and he stays locked in his office. The only time you interact with Law is over meals, and you catch yourself glancing over at him several times throughout those moments. A few times you glance over to catch his golden eyes staring back at you, and you both quickly look away, praying nobody else caught you all. 
You and your captain have been doing this strange dance of avoiding each other and catching stolen looks for three days before the crew decided to step in. 
--
At lunch on the third day, Ikkaku hunts you down to pull you into your room. “You should wear something super nice tonight!” She’s already sifting through the clothes in your drawer.
“What? Why?” You start picking up the clothes that Ikakku has tossed on the floor, but she’s oblivious to your efforts, which irritates you. “Do you mind not making such a mess?”
She ignores your request, still shifting through your belongings and mumbling to herself. “Not a lot to work with here but I’m sure we can find something.”
“Hey-stop that! Ikakku, what is this all about anyway?” You’re throwing your clothes back into the dresser as fast as she’s throwing them out, frustration growing with every shirt you have to refold.
Ikkaku doesn’t offer much explanation. “It’s for the captain.”
You stand there staring at her, dumbfounded, until a stray shirt is thrown at your face. “What’s for the captain?” You finally ask.
Ikakku moves onto the next drawer and keeps digging through your clothes, unfazed by your question. “You gotta dress to impress, sweetheart!”
“Why would I do that?” Your voice comes out choked, and you know your secret has been found out. You still can’t find the will to move, even though your friend is continuing to demolish your room.
Finally, your words catch up to Ikakku, and she turns to face you. She stares at you a long while, as if she’s trying to decide if you’re even worth explaining her motives to. After a few long seconds, Ikakku laughs. “Don’t try to deny it, dear. I know you’re head over heels for him.”
Your mouth falls open in shock. She says it with such confidence that you know there’s no point in denying it. Ikakku always had a sixth sense for these things. “How long have you known?”
“I’ve had my suspicions for a little while, but you made it pretty obvious during game night. At this point everyone must know.” There’s something extra in her voice that sends you over the edge. She said her words so condescendingly, as if she pitied you and your circumstances.
“Get out! Get out now!” You shoved Ikakku out the door and slammed it behind her, refusing to come out until the dinner call. You feel so humiliated, though you’re not sure why. Your cheeks still turn pink at the thought of that night, which was the last time you had talked to your captain in three days. It felt like Shachi and Ikakku had ruined your entire relationship with the captain because of that stupid dare, and now they were trying to meddle in your life even more.
--
You were late to dinner because of Penguin. He was trying to get you to put a nicer outfit on, which led to a big fight and left you in a sour mood. By the time the two of you got there, only two seats remained. One next to Shachi, which was obviously meant for Penguin, and one next to the captain, which was obviously meant for you.
Everyone’s eyes followed you as you took your place next to Law, but nobody said anything. You could see Ikakku and Shachi silently questioning Penguin over your outfit choice, but he simply rolled his eyes and waved it off. A few members exchanged glances, and you could feel that someone was waiting for something to happen.
“Sorry for being late to dinner, everyone.” You finally say, trying to sound genuine.
“Shall we eat, then?” Law spoke to the crew, ignoring you and your apology, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
You didn’t have much of an appetite, and you weren’t in the mood to talk to the man who you had spent the past few days avoiding, so you occupied your time by pushing your food around on your plate. You tried to take a few bites every now and then, but you weren’t making much of a dent on your food.
“Y/N-ya.” The voice made you freeze. It was the first time your captain had spoken to you since game night. Your eyes shifted over to your captain, but when you made eye contact with him, they darted back to the peas on your plate.
“Are you feeling okay?” There was a calculated levelness in his voice. You go the sense he was asking as a doctor, not as a captain or a friend. 
“I’m fine.”
You could see his eye twitch in irritation, but his voice remained calm. “If you would like something else to eat-”
“I don’t.” You interrupt, not giving him the chance to finish his sentence. The other conversations at the table start to die down, and you’ve become painfully aware of everyone’s eyes on you now.
“Captainnnn,” Shachi called to the man next to you. “How about you give Y/N some of your food?”
You’re not sure why, but something snaps inside of you. He’s using that same condescending tone that Ikakku used with you earlier, and the anger that has built inside you over the past three days finally explodes.
“How about you go straight to hell, Shachi?” You say, slamming your fork down onto the table. You see everyone’s mouths fall open in shock, including your captain’s, but you don’t care anymore. You storm out of the room and back to your cabin, furious with the position you’ve allowed yourself to be put into because you have feelings for some guy. You lock your door to avoid unwanted visitors, but nobody tries to come talk to you anyway.
--
“It’s not my fault that they want to rip off each other’s clothes!” You freeze as you hear Shachi’s voice call out in frustration from the kitchen down the hall. You hadn’t seen them-or anyone- since dinner last night, and you were hoping to avoid everyone while you ventured to the kitchen for lunch today. You had even waited until far after the normal lunchtime to lower your chances of running into someone, but it seems you had waiting too long and now you had stumbled upon the people who were cooking dinner tonight.
“Hush!” A feminine voice scolds at the man in a low hiss. Ikkaku. “Someone is going to hear you.”
“I don’t care if they do hear me!” Shachi shoots back. “Everyone on this damn ship can see it except them! It’s been painfully obvious since game night! The way they avoid each other now, the glances over dinner, and now all this hostility!?! I knew the captain would be pissed at us, but  now…”
He trails off, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks when you realize it is you they are talking about. You stay frozen in the hallway, praying that nobody comes around the corner and catches you eavesdropping.
“Listen,” Shachi continues, now in a full-blown rant. “Captain told me that he liked Y/N! And Y/N told you the same thing, right? What were they expecting us to do? Of course we’re going to meddle in that! We’re the most meddlesome people on the ship! They wanted us to intervene! And we did and now they’re avoiding each other like they have some kind of plague and I’m so tired of it!” He pauses for a beat. “We should just tell them.”
Your hand flies up to your mouth to stifle a horrified gasp and Ikkaku speaks in a deadly serious tone. “We are not doing that, Shachi. Neither of them would ever forgive us.”
“I know, I know.” Shachi seems to have calmed down a bit. “It’s just frustrating to watch. And now they’re both upset with us. I just want them to be happy.”
“As do I. Come on, let’s make dinner,” Ikkaku suggests, trying to change the subject. “We’ll figure out a way to make them forgive us and each other. Until then, we’ll just count their awkward glances.”
“The record is eleven, you know. Eleven times they made eye contact and then quickly glanced away from each other. Just at one dinner!”
So they had noticed the looks you and Law had been sharing. In fact, the more they talk, it sounds like they had been actively watching the two of you. It seems like it was a sort of game to them. They were able to recall most of the ones that had happened over the previous nights, chatting quietly and laughing at the exceptionally embarrassing ones.
There was no way you could face them after learning this. There was no way you could face anyone on the ship. You wanted to go hide in your room forever. You retreat back down the hallway the way you came and quickly rounded the corner to return to your room.
You crashed into someone as you turned the corner, too in a hurry to notice them until it was too late. You’re about to let out a small squeal of surprise when a hand covers your mouth tightly. Panic sets in for a moment, thinking someone may have stowed away on the ship, but when you see equally wide golden eyes staring down at you, you feel a twinge of relief.
A different kind of panic sets in, and your heartbeat starts to pick up. Suddenly, you’re painfully aware of how close you are to your captain; how his tattooed fingers are still gripping around your face, holding your mouth shut.
He must realize it too, because his face begins to tint with pink, and he releases you from his grasp. He holds a finger up to his lips and looks around the corner to see if anyone is watching, but Shachi and Ikkaku are still chatting in the kitchen, and nobody else is in the hallway. He takes your wrist and silently leads you away from the kitchen in the direction of his office.
You can feel your heart rate accelerating in your chest with every step closer to the captain’s quarters. Based on his reaction, you weren’t the only one who had heard Shachi’s and Ikkaku’s conversation in the kitchen. A part of you wanted to run, to find a way to put as much distance between you and your captain as you could on this small ship. But you let him lead you down the halls, too afraid to say or do anything else but follow him.
He didn’t look back at you the entire time you walked through the halls. His pace was fast, and at times you struggled to keep up. He quickly opened the door to his office and yanked you inside, looking back in the hallway once more to make sure you weren’t followed before closing it and locking the deadbolt firmly.
“What are you-” You had begun to question him, but quickly lost your voice when he started towards you with such intensity.
“Shachi and Ikakku, were they telling the truth?” His voice is harsh and rough when he speaks to you. You could hear the disbelief in his words, and you knew for a fact that he had heard them in the kitchen. He was towering over you with an intense gaze, and you were doing your best not to cower away from him like before.
“What-”
“A yes or no will do.” He takes a step towards you, and you instinctively step backwards, pressing your back against a random bookcase behind you. He had you cornered now, and your stomach ties into a knot as you look up at him. You feel so small, trapped here in his office with him. There’s a hungry look in his eyes, like a predator when they’ve found their next meal. He’s a little terrifying, yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from him.
“Y/N.” He prompts again. He didn’t add the normal nickname to it, which was a solidified sign that he was pissed. You didn’t normally find your captain intimidating, but since game night he made your hair stand on edge. You’re too embarrassed to admit your feelings for him, not while staring straight in the eyes like this. You finally break away from his gaze and stare at the floor, too ashamed to answer.
But your captain wants your full attention, and Law’s index finger tucks under your chin and guides your face back up to meet him, beckoning you to look him in the eyes again. You resist at first, but eventually give in, locking back into his honey irises.
He leans down, only centimeters from your face. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your lips as he exhales. His breath is hitched and shallow, warm as it brushes against your skin.
Your knees feel weak with him so close to you, and think they might give out any second. The electricity between the two of you is palpable, and you wonder if this is what it means to be alive. You are suspended in this moment only with him, completely isolated from the outside world and everyone in it.
“Was it the truth?” He whispers the question softly this time, and now you can sense a trace of hope laced into his words. You open your mouth to respond, but your words fail you. He looks down at your lips, waiting, and you do the only thing you can. You nod.
That’s all he needs. His lips crash into yours with such force that you have to take a step back to steady yourself, but you stumble against the bookcase. Law’s free hand wraps tightly around you to help you stay balanced, and he pushes you back against the bookcase for more support. Inked fingers trace your jawline and cup your cheek, pulling you closer to him while he leans further into you. There’s been far too much distance between the two of you recently, and he needs to make up for lost time.
You wrap your arms around his body, digging your fingernails into the back of his shirt as you pull him against you, showing him how much you want this-how much you need this. His tongue flicked across your lips and a soft moan escaped your mouth as your lips parted, granting him access to you. He dives in without hesitation, eager for his first taste of you.
His hands trailed down your back, sending shivers throughout your entire body. He reached your waist, and you could feel him hesitate for a moment, unsure how much further to proceed. You press against him harder, encouraging him further, and your hands move upwards, wrapping around his neck to pull him into you more. Your fingers twisted around his midnight locks, tugging at them gently.
His lips finally release from your mouth, and you gasp for air while you have a second to breathe. Both of his hands slip under your ass and he lifts you up, your back still against the shelf for assistance. Your legs wrap around his body, pulling him into you.
He kissed your jawline, and then slowly made his way down to your neck. The sensation of his tongue swirling and his lips sucking on your sensitive skin made you pull at his hair harder, shoving his mouth further into your nape. You had to bite your lips to stifle a moan, and he gave a dark chuckle against your skin.
“Come on now,” he teased, nipping at your neck a few times. “Moan for me, y/n-ya”
You didn’t immediately oblige, and he was quickly growing impatient. His lips continued to suck at your skin with such ferocity that you were sure his marks of passion would be displayed there later. He gripped your ass tighter and pushed his groin into the opening between your legs. You could feel his hardened cock through his jeans grinding against you, and you couldn’t hold your words in any longer.
“Fuck, Captain!” You had tried to keep quiet, but the moan rang out loudly against the silent room.  Either Law didn’t care about the level of your voice, or he liked it. Judging by the way he thrust into you again, you would guess the latter. Your fingers dug deeper into his locks, pure ecstasy running through your veins now. You wanted to ride this high all the way to the end with your captain, and you continued to call out his name every time his bulge rubbed against you in the perfect way.
Law abandoned your neck to return back to your lips again, muffling your moans with his mouth. He continued to grip your ass tightly and push into you, and you could hear books falling to the ground behind you as his pace began to pick up.
“Errr, Captain?” The voice came from the other side of the door, distorted and concerned. In shock, Law pulled away from you and your hand flew to your mouth in horror, both of you frozen in place.
The door jiggled, and your eyes widened at its movement. Thankfully it stayed shut, locked earlier by the captain.
Law’s eyes stayed connected with yours. He kept you against him, refusing to put you down. “What is it, Bepo?”
“Is everything okay, Captain? I was coming to tell you dinner is ready, and I heard some commotion as I-“
Law cut him off before he let Bepo’s rambling go on too long. “Everything is fine, Bepo. Thank you. We will be at dinner soon.”
Your eyes widen at him, and he realizes his mistake too late.
“We?”
Law curses under his breath and you smile at his uncharacteristic slip up. You can only thank the stars that it’s Bepo summoning him and not anyone else on the crew.
“I’ll see you at dinner, Bepo.” Law corrects, and you can hear Bepo’s feet padding away down the hall without further commentary.
You start to unwrap your legs from around his waist, but he grips you tighter, refusing to release you just yet.
You giggle at him and place a quick kiss on his nose, and in shock, his arms loosen from around you. He releases you, and you hop down happily. All the tension between you two has finally broken, and the air feels lighter now
You do a quick check in the mirror nearby, and attempt to fix the things you can control. You use your fingers to comb through your hair quickly and smooth your shirt, trying your best to make yourself look presentable. Unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do about the welts that are already forming on your neck other than pull up your shirt collar and hope for the best.
“Go ahead, I’m going to clean up and then I’ll be there.” Law bends down to pick up his hat and places it back on his head. It must’ve fallen off at some point, though you’re not sure when. He waves you on, bending back down to begin collecting the books you’ve scattered across the floor.
You start to think that you’ve done something wrong or he’s ashamed to be seen with you, and you feel that familiar pit forming in your stomach.
“Save me a seat,” he calls to you as you exit the room, and your fear instantly melts away.
You walk into the kitchen to find that most people have already congregated around the table. A few people look over to see you come in, and your eyes find Shachi. You smile at him politely, trying to start the process of making up for your outburst yesterday. His eyes glance down to your neck, and you watch as his eyes grow wide. He mutters something to Ikakku and Penguin, and you look away before you become more embarrassed.
You take a seat, and a few minutes later Law walks in and sits next to you. He’s sitting extremely close to you, his leg pressed against yours. You try to avoid the looks Shachi is sharing with the rest of the crew.
Dinner starts out casual, everyone attempting to ignore the elephant in the room. You were chatty with your crew mates, and everyone began to relax more. It finally felt like the crew dynamic was returning to normal again.
Halfway through dinner, you feel a hand rest on the top of your thigh, and you resist the urge to look over at your captain. You can feel his thumb lazily rubbing in circles, and electricity starts through your veins again.
After a few moments his fingers reach down, gripping your inner thigh and giving it a squeeze. You have to bite down on your lip to avoid showing any outward signs of his advancements. You snap your legs shut and attempt to continue your conversation with Clione, ignoring the hint of a smirk dancing across Law’s face.
He pushed further into your inner thigh, massaging it slowly. Continuing his taunt, he spreads his fingers closer to your core and flexes his fingers against you. You shift away from him, and he gripped your thigh harder to prevent you from completely leaving his grasp.
He leans close to you, whispering so only you can hear him. His voice is low and thick with desire. “Do you want to finish what we started?”
Your cheeks burn as he releases your thigh and gets up from the table, not waiting for your response. You wait a few moments before deciding to follow him.
“Thank you, Shachi.” You look at him and pause, and you can feel a sense of understanding pass between you two. “For the meal.” You add in, for sake of appearance.
You get up and walk out of the room, and Law is waiting for you outside. He grabs your hand and leads you back towards his office once again. You’re uncertain of what lies ahead, but it’s better than where you’ve been.
“Thank FUCK!” You hear Shachi scream from the kitchen, and the crew joins in with a chorus of laughter. You found yourself agreeing with them, grinning to yourself as the captain pulls you along, hand laced in yours.
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neteyamsoare · 9 months
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Good Girl.
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༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Dilf!Jake Sully x Fem! Metkayina! Reader.
༉‧₊˚. Anonymous Request. Dilf!jake w virgin reader that idea has my toes curling.
༉‧₊˚. Summary. Jake makes your first time memorable.
༉‧₊˚. General Tags. 18+ (explicit content & language).
༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Softdom!Jake, Sub!reader, virgin!reader, oral (m & f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v, breeding kink, a little praise kink, spanking [only twice], and aftercare.
༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 1.0k.
༉‧₊˚. Index. Tewng — [loincloth].
༉‧₊˚. Notes. Nonnie, I hope you are still here with me, I was so glad to see you request this so I really hope I did justice on it. I really like how I did this one, thought it would be better to do headcanons. Let me know what y'all think!!
༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍
༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist
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⌕ Jake would be so soft with you knowing that it's your first time. He would stretch you out with his fingers first to get you all wet and ready. He would stick one finger in first before sliding in another. He would press down on your lower abdomen as two of his fingers are curled upwards inside your glistening cunt so he can hit your g spot and his thumb would rub circles on your clit. “Spread your legs wider f’me, let me get a good look at you as you take my fingers.”
⌕ Sweet moans filled Jake’s ears and he smirked. “Already have you fucked out and it’s just my fingers,” he teased as he looks up from his position to look at your eyes rolled back and continued his torture on you. You have masturbated by yourself before but it never felt like this, this was different. Jake replaces his thumb with his mouth on your clit, sucking on it, getting a taste of your sweet juices as he picks up the pace with his fingers.
⌕ You feel a knot grow in your stomach and your gummy walls grip his fingers as your breathing becomes uneven but Jake doesn’t give up his relentless pace, he wants to taste all of you. “Come all over my fingers, baby,” you feel the coil snap as you start to convulse as you release your high.
⌕ Jake smirks as he pulls his fingers out and puts them in his mouth tasting how sweet you are before reaching down to capture your lips with his, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls away so he can release his aching cock out of his tewng. He loosens the knot and takes it off, discarding it to the side and you watch his cock spring up, slapping his stomach as precum leaks from the tip. Jake admires your look as he takes his finger and wipes off the precum bringing his finger to your lips. “Open,” he demanded, and you suck the precum off and a smirk appears on his face.
⌕ “Get on all fours and arch your back f’me,” he demanded as he stroke his cock, he watches you obey his order, his cock throbbing as he thinks of how it would feel to be inside of you, how good it would be with your gummy walls gripping his cock.
⌕ He lines his cock up with your entrance, he spits onto his shaft and slowly slides in, hissing at how tight you were and you let out a moan. “Jake, it’s too big, it won’t fit,” you yelp out. “It’ll fit, I know it will,” he coos as he rubs on your clit to gain more slickness to make it easier to slide the rest of his cock in. 
⌕ “There we go, see I told you it’d fit,” he smirked looking down at you. As soon as he flushes against your ass, he rubs your cheek a bit, gripping it hard before landing a hard slap to it, earning a whine from you as your hand flew back to cover the burning sensation. Jake makes a tsk sound and he grabs your hand and holds it on your lower back, using it as leverage as he starts to slowly slide in and out of your throbbing cunt earning sweet moans to come out of you.
⌕ Jake would let you adjust to his size first and as soon as you give him permission to, he starts to pound into you, going deeper than he was before, pounding you into the sleeping mat, letting your moans be hushed trying not to be loud which earns another slap to your ass as Jake pulls your head up by your hair. 
⌕ “Nuh uh, let daddy hear you,” he demanded as he continues his relentless torture on your cunt as he feels your gummy walls gripping him tight and your core getting wetter. “Jake… I’’m gonna..” you stammered out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “I know doll, come f’me. Make a mess on me.”
⌕ As he said those words you felt the coil in your stomach snap as you painted his stomach and legs with your release, although you came, it didn’t mean Jake was finished with you, he still needed to pump his seed into you. 
⌕ His pace never gave up as he ran for his high, your overstimulated mewls filled his ears which only fueled it more as he picks up the pace, he rubbed your ass cheeks gripping it tight as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from your greedy cunt. 
⌕ His cock twitches as he releases his seed deep inside, not coming out until every last drop of his semen was inside of you. He gives you one last pump before pulling his cock out. He admires how fucked out you looked, you were only his from now on, not wanting any other boy to ever lay a hand on you. He walks around to your face and uses one of his hands to grip your chin up to where his dick was. “Clean me up, doll then you can rest.” 
⌕ You do as you’re told as you licked up the remaining drops of his cum, taking the tip in as he removes your hair out of your face as he guides your mouth down his shaft, you swirl your tongue around it, and he lets out a few groans and grunts as he looks down and couldn’t help but think of how pretty you looked. 
⌕ You release his cock from your mouth with a pop, licking the tip one more time while he smirks. “You have been a very good girl, took me s’well, he softly spoke as he picked you up.”Let’s get cleaned up and later, we could go for a ride, what do you think?” He queried as he saw you snuggle more against his chest. “Yes, I’d love that.” You smiled wondering how you got so lucky to land such an amazing man like him.
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© neteyamsoare 2023. | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!
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icyg4l · 1 month
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Pick-A-Meme: What Is In Store for You in April 2024?
Hello beautiful people. Tonight marks the beginning of a new month, April!!! I am so excited to be delivering a new PAC reading. I will continue to be as consistent as possible. Please book a personal reading with me here! And without further ado, please pick your pile!
Top Left-to-Bottom Right (1-4):
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Pile One: I feel like you’re going through a rebirth, a spiritual purification. You need to purchase some hyssop, Pile One. I feel like you’re going to be looking at life from a different perspective. There’s a decision that you’re going to have to make in order to be content with your life. You have to choose yourself! I also feel like this month you’ll be focused on going outside into the city! You could get invited to some type of festival or a cooking class perhaps. It seems like this month you should be focused on taking risks and getting out of your comfort zone, Pile One. But even with all of this happening, you should keep your eye on the prize. Discipline yourself and keep your head on straight to the narrow path. Don’t get distracted by the bs, Pile One. 
Cards Used: Death, The Fool, Knight of Cups, Judgment, Nine of Cups, Temperance, Queen of Swords, Four of Discs. 
extras: white clothes. chicago. tundra. icicle. party girl. 
Pile Two: After I pulled some cards for this pile, I saw the vision of someone parting a moving mountain, like holding two mountains to avoid being crushed. I see that you have a big heart, Pile Two. You would do something like this for other people. But there’s someone in your life that is taking advantage of that. There is a connection, particularly love, where the efforts you put forth aren’t being reciprocated. It’s time to know your worth, babe. This is especially true if you are in a long distance relationship. I see that you will be meeting someone new who appreciates your energy and is willing to take care of you. But in order for this to work, you need to keep an open mind. This person is a bit eccentric, Pile Two. I also see that if you have been searching for apartments, you will be preparing to move out of your neighborhood by the end of the month. 
Cards Used: King of Wands, Five of Cups, Justice, Two of Wands, The Lovers, 4 of Discs, The Fool, 4 of Cups (RX), Two of Cups (RX), The Emperor, Page of Cups. 
extras: playing cards. heartbreak hotel. dracula. pity. sarcasm. brooklyn. candlelight dinner. mardi gras. 
Pile Three: This pile has been having hangups about a certain situation. Perhaps, you’ve been having dreams about something that occurs in your waking life. These dreams are in fact premonitions. You need to be taking note of them so that you can make the best decision. You may have been drawn to Pile One. I feel like this pile is getting settled in with something, maybe ‘it’ has to grow on you. Don’t let anyone affect your decision making at this time because you are the one that has to live out the effects of it. You could be going off to college, making the decision to move or stay in your hometown, deciding whether or not you need a new car or should just get it repaired. Either way, you need to lean into your intuition. Depend on yourself. I feel like this pile has been listening to the new Beyoncé album heavy. So if you resonate with that then this is definitely your pile. Don’t make a decision that you will regret. Watch your environment closely. 
Cards Used: Temperance, The High Priestess, Knight of Pentacles, Seven of Cups (RX), 8 of Swords, King of Wands, Five of Cups. 
extras: “blinded by tradition.” lilith. yodeling. partition. oracle cards. eye for an eye. watermelon. “my precious.”
Pile Four: Oh, Pile Four. You’ve been working on yourself big time, haven’t you? Because of this, I feel like April will be the month where you receive recognition for your efforts. I feel like this pile participated in Lent or Ramadan, or you’ve just been disciplined and staying out the way. I feel like you will be introduced to a new lover soon that you’ll meet through friends but you’ll be uber cautious of them because you’re used to being by yourself. Lots of people will try to get your attention during this month but I feel like you’ll continue to stack your coins and enjoy your time as a bachelor/ette. There’s many opportunities for you to make money, especially if you’re a young entrepreneur. I see the image of someone scanning through a brochure. So please, do what you have to do to make that money! But don’t let it make you! I also see that you could meet your mentor at some type of conference as well. You really need to network, Pile Four (to my fellow introverts, all will be okay, love).
Cards Used: King of Pentacles, 9 of Cups, The Tower (RX), The Sun, Ten of Cups, Ace of Discs, Nine of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, 3 of Cups, Princess of Cups (RX).
extras: BLT. hummus. pilates. health conscious. “please don’t partake in that.” suburban. office hours. sneak peek.
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unforgettwble-sumii · 9 months
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DATE NIGHT — W. A
( Wednesday Addams x Fem!reader 📖 )
⭐ A lovely date night with Wednesday.
⭐ Warnings ‼️: not proofread! mentions the grim reaper, if I miss any more please do tell me ♡
⭐ Word count: 1.8k
a/n: My brain was itching for some Wednesday and soft!R fluff ☹️
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"How does this look, Thing?" The infamous goth spoke to her companion, Thing, who was currently on her desk helping her pick out an outfit for your date night. The hand signed, saying that she was being too extra. Wednesday scoffed. That was very out of character for the appendage to say. But he was right. She didn't need to dress up that extravagantly, as it was just a lovely date night through the park. A pair of black jeans and a black hoodie will do.
Wednesday rummaged through her closet once more to look for her beloved hoodie that had both of your scents merged in it. She switched her clothes one last time, looked at the mirror, then at Thing; who finally gave her a sign of approval. She nodded and grabbed her backpack, which was full of items you both loved: snacks, a book, a pair of earphones, etc. She turned to the table where Thing was, grabbing the precious flower she grown herself just for you.
As she was about to open the door, you knocked; causing Wednesday's heart to skip a beat. With a soft inhale, she opened the door to see you with a soft smile. You greeted her with a soft kiss on her cheek.
"Mi sol, how are you?" She had asked, exiting the room and closing the door behind her carefully as to not draw attention or cause disruptions to any of the other students who were currently in deep slumber. "I'm more than fine, Wednesday. Especially now that I'm here with you." You giggled, skipping down the stairs of the Academy happily and without care. "How about you?" You returned the question, glancing at the goth who followed behind you.
"I'm doing well. I had grown this myself for you." You abruptly stopped, eager to know what Wednesday was talking about. You hummed, turning to look at her. She had a flower in one hand. She brought her hand up to give the flower to you. You carefully took the flower from her hand and admired it; entranced by it's beauty. "It's gorgeous, I love it!" You almost fully screamed in enthusiasm. "I'm glad you adore it. Even if I'm not one to enjoy these type of plants, I'm glad you find joy in them." She took the back of your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the finger where you had worn the ring she had given you.
It was a simple black ring with her initials on it. She wore the same one, except engraved on it were your initials.
Both making your way out of the school gates, you once again skipped your way to the park. It was a cold and breezy night, and a jacket would do you so much justice. Unfortunately, because you were so excited; you had forgotten to bring your jacket. You slightly shivered, not enjoying the cold. Wednesday took notice and took off her own hoodie for you to wear.
A small yet heartwarming gesture that made your heart warm and soft. You thanked her and happily put it on, twirling to show off that you were wearing her hoodie. "What about you, baby? Aren't you going to get cold?" Your voice now lacing with concerned as you walked closer to your lover.
"As long as you're not freezing to death, I'll be fine." She sighed, walking over to a bench and looking up at you. You followed suit; sitting beside her and leaning your head on her shoulder. You let a puff of breath out, contented with the current event you were in right now.
"Wen, you should def learn how to text." You say, breaking the silence. Wednesday glanced at you, clearly confused. "Why would I need to learn how to text when I can talk to you perfectly fine? Besides, I don't want to succumb to the horrible effects technology has on teens these days." You playfully rolled your eyes. Wednesday could be such a mom at times.
"Well, yes—but what if we're not near each other? Plus, I've been meaning to add you to our girls only gc" You stated, looking at her slightly; thinking wether to plant a kiss on her cheek or to peck her on the lips. "I think that would be unnecessary. I see no proper use for such thing."
Wednesday sighed, even though she had no clue why you were so attached to a piece of technology, she tried her best to understand it. Grabbing her phone from her backpack she put it on her lap, staring at it. This made you gasp in excitement; an idea popped up on your head. Wednesday wondered what could have been going on in that mind of yours yet didn't ask about it. Instead waited on for you to dictate your idea.
"Let's take a selfie!!"
Oh dear. The young Addams was not a fond of 'selfies', infact, she hated them with a passion. But, you had changed her perspective on life for the better, so she had thought that maybe a small selfie wouldn't be as bad as she thought.
You unlocked her phone; surprised that it didn't have a passcode. Opened the camera app and held up her phone so that both of you would fit in the frame. "Smileee!!" You giggled. Wednesday wanted to rip her eyes out, but, for your sake; she followed what you had asked her to do. Scooting closer she placed her left hand on your right shoulder and tried to muster up a small smile. With a simple click, she felt her world stop. Instead of her looking at the camera, her gaze trailed over to your face instead.
'Click.'
You giggled excitedly, not noticing Wednesday's gaze on you. You clicked the icon beside the button in order to view the photo. Your heart suddenly skipped a beat once your eyes examined the picture. Pure joy and love erupted from your heart as you tried to find the right words to say. You looked at Wednesday, who was already gazing at you.
Her harsh eyes filled with softness she didn't know she had. She was admiring you, something that the young Addams did in secret or when it was just the two of you. You cupped her cheek with your hand, leaning in closer; glancing at her lips then back on her dark eyes. She leaned in, signing for you to continue. With a smile, you closed the remaining gap between the two of you. Suddenly, the night wasn't as cold; the warmth of both of your bodies radiated the air, creating a soft and perfect atmosphere.
You broke off the kiss after a few minutes, then fell into a giggle fit which made the young Addams sigh. Yes, you were a handful at times, yet that never stopped her heart from beating for you. If you asked her, she would rip her own heart out and feed it to the kettle of vultures that flew freely outside her home.
She loved you dearly. That you for sure knew. When it comes to love language, Wednesday's is definitely acts of service. She would do anything for you, she could climb the tallest mountain to obtain a special flower in order to show you just how much you mean to her. When it comes to you, Wednesday never hesitates to risk her life to make sure that you're happy.
Soon after, you both decided that it was a great time to eat the snacks you both had brought.
Throughout the night, you both shared your thoughts and other random things that needed to be let out of your mind. Everything was calm and absolutely perfect. Every once in a while, one or the other would let out a chuckle. However, there was this one story that caused you to have a laughing fit and, laughing while eating certainly wasn't a bright idea. You started to choke on the sandwich that you were munching on, causing Wednesday to violently and aggressively pat your back.
Somehow that experience made the night even better, even if the grim reaper was around the corner to take your life. But you know that Wednesday would always be there to save you if he happened to stop by.
Even if you wanted to stay much longer, Wednesday noted that it was getting late and that both of you had classes tomorrow.
You sighed, sad that this night was coming to an end. However, another idea had popped up in your head that positively affected your mood.
"Come back to my dorm with me? Please?"
You begged Wednesday to sleep over at your dorm. After much consideration, Wednesday complied. Earning a kiss on the lips from you.
When you arrived at your dorm, you opened the door for both of you. The smile on your face was so evident that you resembled a child in a candy store. "I'm going to go change and brush my teeth, okay?" You told Wednesday as you made your way to your drawers to pick out a pajama set. Then, your eyes landed on a black pair of pajamas that had another set to match with it. This sparked another idea in your head. You quickly went to the bathroom to brush your teeth so your idea can be in motion.
You clasped your hands happily as you looked at yourself at the mirror, Wednesday right beside you. Wearing the black pj's that matched yours except you were wearing shorts instead of pajama pants. "Don't we look adorable?" You asked, admiring yourself. "While I wouldn't describe myself as 'adorable', you certainly look dashing, Cara Mia."
You set a soft and tender kiss on her nose, before replying, "You remind me of the moon, my dear. So perfect."
"I love you, Wednesday." You slightly giggled. How many times have you giggled and kissed Wednesday this night? You don't know. But one thing you new though was, both of you were getting tired and needed some sleep, especially Wednesday. You have learned after awhile of dating her, that once she got tired she gets a tad more affectionate. While yes, it was adorable, you wanted to go to bed more than anything.
"My darling girl, you are everything to me. You bring me joy that the world is incapable of giving me. You bring light to my dark world. I love you, Cara Mia." Wednesday replied, kissing your knuckles just as she did awhile ago.
You belly flopped onto your bed, then moved to make space for Wednesday. You made grabby hands at her before she made her way beside you. You found yourself moving closer to lay on top of her. Your head rested on her chest, listening to her heartbeat that soon lulled you to sleep.
"Mi amor, you may not hear me but, you mean so much to me. I may struggle tell you, but I can and will show you." Wednesday mumbled before she herself fell asleep.
Little did she know that you heard her, and it brought a soft smile to your face.
— ⭐ ©unforgettwble-sumii's work. Pls do not repost, steal, modify, or translate.
I love u elmo
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koalayoo · 7 months
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ᴍᴀᴍᴀ ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ
⟡₊˚ wriothesley x gn!reader
⟡₊˚ content: criminal reader, gag worthy fluff, sfw, silly wriothesley (lack of the real world is getting to him)
⟡₊˚ author's note: lost my 50/50 to diluc. i always knew i had a reason to hate that guy. this was supposed to be having a secret relationship with wriothesley but honestly i got off track.
⟡₊˚ based off of: this playlist. without the nsfw part.
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The past year had been interesting. Becoming a convicted criminal hadn’t been on your bucket list but that’s exactly what you accomplished. Throwing your entire life away the moment Chief Justice Neuvillete and the Oratrice pronounced you guilty. The theatre went into an uproar, arms in the air and cheers of happiness cutting through the prior tensity in the air. The trials you despised watching had finally happened to you. At least you could finally call yourself a victim of Fontaine’s patronising legal system? Although calling yourself a victim is the most ludicrous thing you could do right now. You were a criminal after all.
But let bygones be bygones right? Nobody in the underworld cared about your past so it was the perfect place to start anew, if only you weren’t being accused of another crime, by the Duke of the Fortress no less.
You stand in front of him and his condescending smirk and can feel your eye start to twitch. “What do you mean I committed another crime, Wriothesley?” You beseech, unsure of whether the lack of fresh air was beginning to make your brain go dumb.
“Exactly what I said,” He replied, as if he wasn’t revealing life altering news. He held your hands and leaned back into his chair, pulling you with him. “You’ve committed a crime… and it’s time you take responsibility.”
Oh?
There was a teasing lilt in his voice there. He’s joking. Definitely. He has to be. Although it was an odd one to make. You two would never joke about this. You and him had developed something akin to a relationship within the last few months. Him hiding extra coupons into your pocket turned into him sneaking you into his office from time to time and sharing short kisses behind boxes or during elevator rides. How a lowly prisoner like you managed to catch the attention of His Grace was surprising but not impossible you learnt.
You raise your brow in question. “So… you’re joking?” You ask, confusion evident in your voice. All he does is chuckle in return.
“Definitely not, darling,” He cooed, pulling you between his legs and bringing your body closer to his. Your faces mere centimetres apart. “For the crime you committed is stealing my heart.” He seals it with a kiss, as if his lips are the gavel calling order to your sentence, bounding your heart to confinement within his greedy arms.
You pull away from the kiss, unshackling yourself from him. You don’t know whether to be endeared by the cheesiness that just ensued or to be relieved you weren’t actually charged with anything so you don't opt for either and just begin to walk away.
Wriothesley’s whines and pleads followed you to the office door.
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and this type of love isn't rational, it's physical (me)
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goodgirlofglory · 11 months
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Hiya doll! 👋 Finals month is still in motion, so I’ve been pretty quiet on the asks. But today I was feeling some sort of way, and I wanted to know if you’re open to this request.
“Bucky with a reader who is insecure about her body”
Basically, I see a lot of representation for plus size girlies on tumblr ( and this is no hate to anyone) but I wish there was also more representation for midsize girlies. Also for girls who are on the taller side, I’m talking 5”7 and up. I’m 5”7 myself, and wearing any shoe that gives me extra inches makes me feel like I tower over my friends or others.
Another thing is, if you do write for this ask, I was thinking that even though reader does have a low self-esteem, she puts on a front and seems like she has a majorrrrrr ego or god complex. So maybe, Bucky see through that, gets her down from there, and fucks her in front of a mirror 🫣🥵
And I oop-
Anyways, regardless to everything, have a fantastic day/night and rest of your week! I appreciate you 💜💜💜
Bestie!!!!🦋
I hope your finals went well!🫶🫶🫶
I am soooo sorry this took so long! It needed to sit with me for a while before I felt I could do it justice, and then life happened in the meantime ya'know.
Anyways I so dearly hope you like this🙏🙏 I resonated a lot with your prompt as a midsize girlie myself and channeled some of my own experience into it (though I have sadly never been fucked in front of a mirror by Bucky Barnes)💖
Anyway, hope you're having a good day or night wherever you are, you are a true gem 🫶✨️🫶✨️🫶
(Also can’t wait to hear what you think of this so lmk😘)
Just perfect / One-shot
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x secretlyinsecure!taller!midsize!reader
Word count: 7,8k
Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, SMUT, bathroom sex, fucking in front of a mirror, dom!Bucky, unprotected p in v (be safe my sweet darlings), a split second of oral (f receiving), reader is insecure and has some harmful thoughts about her own body.
Summary: A rather dreadful Christmas party at S.H.I.E.L.D takes a turn for the better (and frankly therapeutical) when Bucky Barnes shows you that your self-deprecating thoughts about your body might not be as objective as you thought.
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“Mid,” you muttered to yourself as you looked over your outfit one more time in the mirror, fighting down the nagging notion of not feeling entirely satisfied with the reflection. The little, black dress fit you perfectly, hugging your upper body like a second skin before flaring out in the shimmering, silk fabric of the skirt that reached just below your knees. Appropriate for a work party, while the hidden slit in the side of the skirt was just a little something extra cheeky for those who’d pay attention. You doubted anyone would. It fit your persona as a ruthless man repeller perfectly too. No flashy colors, no risque shapes, no cutouts and not too short. No fun either, but that wasn’t important here. The cleavage even appeared modest with the average size of your breasts. 
“Fucking mandatory Christmas party,” you muttered as you grabbed your bag and left your apartment to head to the Avengers compound for the second time that day. How is it even allowed to make an after hours social event mandatory, you wondered angrily as you got in the waiting cab. You kept adjusting your dress as the city slowly flashed by outside the cab window, second guessing everything about your outfit from the dress to the shoes to the bag to the red lipstick you’d dared yourself to put on, afraid it was too much and too basic at the same time. 
You knew it was ridiculous to feel so self conscious about yourself and your body. For all intents and purposes, you were perfectly and quite uninterestingly average, neither plus size nor skinny. You knew your plus size girlies had a way harder time being judged and disrespected for their size, and you didn’t want to be too skinny either, like malnourished. You were perfectly midsize, eating healthy and exercising for your body's sake, eating chocolate and pasta and drinking beer for your mental health’s sake. You were perfectly. average. midsize.
It was just that, the lack of appreciation and attention over the years has slowly chipped away at your confidence, and then your self-image, and then your self-esteem, to a point that it was difficult to even rouse any positive thoughts about yourself that didn’t feel half-hearted or mandatory for the girlboss-affirmation of the day. 
The one thing you had going for you, the one thing you felt unequivocally confident about, was your job. Working as one of the high level secretaries for Fury himself, you actually had quite the high seat in the house, with clearance, authority and trust from the big man on top himself. It also meant saying no to quite a lot of things and people on a daily basis, to stop people from charging into the director's office in anger, to be authoritative enough to make people listen and actually do whatever orders you delivered on the director’s behalf (and your own sometimes). The job, which you loved and had worked hard to get, was just a tad challenging to splice with a lack of self-image.
So you’ve built a ruthless, badass, girlboss, gatekeep, gaslight persona for yourself, known for being resistant to all flattery, all bribes, all flirting and all begging. Nothing got past you and everyone seemed just a little afraid of you. It was true, you’d garnered the nickname “the other she-hulk” among your peers. And though you embodied this persona like the most natural thing in the world, it was also a front really, for your honest to God lack of confidence in your everything average.
Oh yeah, except for your height, you realized as you got out of the cab at your destination and was hailed over by the other female colleagues in your department waiting outside the compound - the shoes you wore turned out to give you several inches of height on the other girls, even as they also wore stiletto-like heels. In the height department, you were just above average, which did not make you feel any better necessarily. 
Fuck. You looked like their fucking body guard, looming behind them like a giraffe as you made your way inside, them smiling and laughing, you affecting your haughty mask, the one that protected you the best when you were feeling a bit off-kilter. Better to deem everyone here below your interest before they even had a chance to assess you, right?  
The party was nice. They’d somehow managed to make the compound not feel like a concrete bunker, decorating almost every surface with some fabric or other, flashy reds and silvers and greens and blues, giant trees everywhere overloaded with decorations. Maximalism galore.
“It looks like Santa exploded in here,” you joked to your colleagues, receiving a bout of wild laughter in return. It hadn’t really been that funny, but hey, maybe you could be known as the “other deadpool” in the future if you worked hard enough on your comedy. 
As usual, the lovelier girls of your department got swarmed pretty quickly by guys. Recruits, officers, cadets, other secretaries - they all flocked to your group. You didn’t blame them, your colleagues were beautiful, witty, smiling brightly and exuding a sort of light that could only be rivaled by the sun. They were nice to everyone too, unlike you. 
You stayed and chatted for a bit. No one commented on your dress and certainly not the split at the side, and you tried not to let that get to you. This was a work event, after all, it would be inappropriate if they did come on to you or something. Your self-esteem whimpered quietly even so. 
It didn’t take long for the rest to get tipsy, and someone started blasting music somewhere, effectively switching from corporate mingling-mode to drunken tomfoolery-mode. You easily resisted getting dragged to the dancefloor, effecting a disinterested, above-it-all mask as your work friends pouted and dragged your arm in a petulant, though surprisingly endearing way. 
“I’m not debasing myself tonight, thank you very much,” you said, knowing it was harsh but only gaining a playfully scolding look before the whole gang bounced off to dance without you. 
You made your way over to the bar instead. A half-hour or so more and then you could safely leave without breaking any social codes, you thought with relief as you ordered another glass of champagne. 
Turning from the bar, glass in hand, you suddenly bumped into someone, champagne sloshing around the rim, a few drops spilling over your hand. 
“Hey, watch where-” you started, words dying in your mouth as you looked up…and up a broad chest, a thick neck and then came face to face with Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier himself. 
B-big, your brain supplemented eloquently as you stopped speaking all together. 
How was he so tall? Okay, so you knew he was tall, you’d encountered him regularly over the years and had always felt dwarfed by the tree-trunk size of the man, but you were in four inch heels, god damnit, and you still had to crane your neck to look into his eyes. They glinted as he looked down on you, and for a moment you forgot who you were supposed to be and nearly shrank in on yourself, feeling uncharacteristically small. 
“Sorry,” he simply said, giving you a once-over so quick you weren’t sure it’d happened at all, and then he leaned around you to grab a few napkins from the bar. He made quick work of taking the glass from your hand and wiping the stray drops of champagne from it, set it on the bar and then gently took your hand in his and wiped it as well. 
You could only stare in astonishment at the size of his hands, rough and calloused, but with neatly trimmed nails, engulfing yours and being so exquisitely gentle. He put the glass back in your hand and looked down at you with a pleased smile. 
You quickly amassed your indifferent mask, raising a haughty eyebrow at him, and stepped aside so he could order whatever he wanted. He’d at least apologized and cleaned up the mess he (and you together, admittedly) had caused. You supposed it was the best outcome, both for your pride and confidence. You didn’t step far from the bar, sure you would be back soon enough for another glass, and looked out on the burgeoning dance floor in front of you. 
“Why don’t you join?” a deep voice asked from the side. 
Looking over, Bucky had come up to stand at your side, looking out over the crowd as well, whiskey glass in hand. His strong profile was illuminated by the flashing lights of the dance floor, reflected in those baby blue eyes, and his hair was tucked back into a bun at the back of his head. His suit must have been tailored by sorcery or something, because it hugged him in all the right places, press neat and crisp, making him look both perfectly put together and indecently so.   
Okay, so maybe you had a little something of a crush on the guy. He was fine as hell, and always put this old school New York charm on you whenever you met. He was the only one who still tried to charm and flirt with you whenever he came to Fury’s office, and though you put on your unimpressed and uninterested mask, thoroughly shutting him down each time, you secretly appreciated those moments more than you would ever admit out loud. It felt nice that he at least treated you the same as all the other secretaries - he was the only one who still did. 
You raised your eyebrow, securing a bored look even as you wanted to ask with you?
“Not exactly my crowd,” you said instead, taking a swig at your drink. 
“No? Didn’t think you cared about things like that,” he said, smoothly challenging you. 
“Not exactly my music, then,” you said. Arrogance and low energy usually got people to leave you alone when you felt fragile. You turned to give him a fake, sarcastically apologetic smile. 
“Ah, I see. Too bad, would’ve loved to see how wide that split goes while you twirl,” he said, leaning closer to you, and in your shock the mask you’d held on so tight cracked, and you whipped to look at him. He’d noticed it?
You saw the pleased victory shining in his eyes. Cheeky bastard was trying to break you, trying to make you drop the haughty exterior, like he knew you were only putting up a front. And you’d let your mask slip and showed him he was right. And like you suspected he knew, it was the exact sort of thing you deeply, secretly craved someone to do. 
But it wouldn’t be that easy. Bucky could just be fucking with you, or making easy conversation. But he’d noticed the split in your dress, so he must’ve been looking, right? Just a little harder than everybody else. Still, it was out of the question to just drop every defense and wall you had now, in this room, just because of one comment from him. You quickly affected an unimpressed, almost fatigued mask, raising your glass to your lips. 
“Too bad, Barnes, I’ve already had my high school prom,” you said, delivering the line with just the perfect amount of arrogance and judgment. 
You felt his eyes lingering on your face for long moments as you stared into the crowd, refusing to meet his eyes and potentially let more slip. This shit was exhausting enough when people didn’t clock on to your farce. Still, a small part of you didn’t want him to stop looking, to stop showering you in this undivided attention that sizzled like carbonic bubbles on your skin. 
You immediately shut down your disappointment when he left without another word, telling yourself to be proud you didn’t beg or flirt or plead for his attention like everyone else did. You didn’t need anyone but yourself, you needed to remember that. 
The music shifted from some mainstream pop song to some very old jazz, and the sudden shift only had a second to register before Bucky appeared as from thin air, took your glass from you, downed the rest of your drink in one gulp (eyes shining with mischief as you gawked a little at him), ditched the glass on the nearby table and then promptly took you by the hands and hauled you out on the dance floor. 
“W-wait, I -” your words cut off to a little squeal as the soldier wrapped a strong arm around your waist and twirled you so your feet lifted off the ground, the skirt of your dress flying out. Your arms clung around his neck and shoulders as the world spun in a flurry of bright, flickering lights, and your feet didn’t touch the ground for ten solid seconds as Bucky turned and turned. 
When he eventually put you down, his arms didn’t let up much, keeping you firmly tucked to the hard planes of his stomach and chest with a hand that went around your back and held your waist on the other side. 
You schooled your expression down even as nerves and excitement and a fair share of actual, fucking excitement filled you from the unexpected dancing. You actually did like to dance a lot. You looked up and found Bucky’s eyes on your face, glimmering in the bright lights as he easily led you in some old timey couple’s dance that he apparently knew perfectly.
“This music more to your liking?” he asked, challenging and genuine at the same time, and you couldn’t for the life of you understand his angle. Why was he doing this? 
You knew people were watching, even as the dance floor was still full of other dancers making due with their modern dance moves to the old music. And though you did feel kinda nervous being so exposed, you couldn’t very well cut off this dance and leave - that would only make you look even more insecure than you felt.
So you soldiered through, putting on a mildly entertained, smug look and looking Bucky in the eyes. 
“It’s certainly something else,” you said, and watched as his eyes flared over with a sort of playful frustration, shaking his head a little at you, but smiling despite himself. 
“Drop the act, sweetheart,” he said then, low enough for no one else to hear, but it still made you bristle. 
“What act?” you said, making it sound nonchalant and innocent at the same time. “Just because you remember one dance from 70 years ago, I’m supposed to swoon?” you challenged, knowing the words were harsh but goddamnit, he was getting too close. 
A groan escaped him then, one you felt more than heard from the way your bodies were pressed together, and you flushed, not expecting that kind of response. 
He leaned down and murmured in your ear.
“I like it when you’re mean, but I’d like it more if you were honest,” he said, and your breath caught, the physical sensation of his hot breath on your ear distracting you to the point of stumbling a bit on your heels. His arm around your waist didn’t let you so much as twist an ankle, which made you feel even more heated. 
Before you could come up with a retort, Bucky flung you out in a twirl, making your skirt fly around you. He led you perfectly even as he almost threw you around like a ragdoll, and you had to admit you were amazed by how graceful you were even as every move and twist were orchestrated and led by Bucky. The crowd disappeared as you moved to the music, coming back to Bucky, being swung out again, your back to his front at one point, his breath hot on your neck, swinging out again and stepping past each other in swoops only connected by your hand in his. 
You met his eyes and saw the flash over with an intensity that made your skin prickle, with a hunger you could scarcely believe was meant for you, eyes raking over your body, lingering on the leg peaking out through the split in your skirt, your chest heaving in the low cut neckline of your dress, your face flushed and no doubt looking as amazed as you felt on the inside. 
The dance ended in a perfectly timed dip, Bucky holding you down and cradling your neck and the small of your back in capable arms, face so close you could feel his breath fan across your face, smelling of whiskey and spearmint. 
You smiled, couldn’t help it, you hadn’t had this much fun at a work event in years. Bucky’s eyes flitted about your face as he echoed your smile with a brilliant flash of teeth himself. Your heart thudded in your chest, and your eyes flicked down to his lips, those luscious, plump lips and oh holy fuck did you want to kiss him at that moment. A desperation you couldn’t quell seized you by your fucking guts and you positively throbbed. Your smile faltered, and you saw his fall too. Daring to look up into his eyes, you saw the same hunger reflected there, nearly engulfing you in its heat. 
Then the crowd returned, cheering, the music went back to some pop song from last year and reality dumped back in on your head so fast you almost made the mistake of scrambling out of Bucky’s hold. 
No, no, no, way too exposed, this was not how you planned this night…
You were actually proud of the way you managed to slowly extract yourself from Bucky’s arms, give a slow, bored “thank you,” and then calmly leave the room all together to escape to the ladies room. 
You had to admit, they hadn’t neglected the bathrooms in the compound, you thought as you occupied the space alone. They were kinda nice, big and spacious, marble and polished steel making the space comfortable and with an air of luxury compared to the practical, brutalist vibe of the rest of the building. 
You touched up on your lipstick, hands shaking a little from the excursion of the dancing. Okay, you needed to leave, you thought to yourself as you felt your skin still sizzling faintly wherever Bucky’s hands had touched you. Your nerves seemed newly awakened as if from a deep slumber, and it would not do to develop an even deeper crush on him. 
As if summoned, the door to the bathroom opened and Bucky stepped through, eyes finding yours in the mirror immediately. 
“I think you’re supposed to be in the next room over Barnes,” you drawled even as your heart picked up speed. 
He didn’t answer as he slowly crossed the room. 
You couldn’t help shifting in your skin as your body thrummed with an exhausting amount of nervous excitement. His gaze was level,possessing your attention like an iron grip. It was like he saw right through every mask and facade you tried to put on, right in to the very center, the very truth inside you. It lulled you and provoked you at the same time. 
“You’re in the wrong restroom, Barnes,” you said, even harsher, when he was about halfway across to you. He still didn’t answer. 
You spun to face him, anger welling higher. Who did he think he was, coming in here and stripping away the only scraps of protection you had, looking at you like he could read the thoughts as they appeared in your mind?
“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he answered as you glared at him, coming to stop directly in front of you, only inches between you, and the air there sparked with energy you just couldn’t deny you were affected by. 
You scoffed, fighting against the crumbling of your exterior. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you wanted him. Couldn’t deny it, couldn’t help yourself as your muscles ached to reach for him, to press yourself against him and let him wrap his strong, safe arms around you again. To tuck yourself away into him and shut your mind off and just feel taken care of - in any way - by someone other than yourself.
A desperate thought occurred to you; maybe you could do this without losing face. If you went on the offensive, you could still hold control over the situation while still letting whatever was sizzling between you and Bucky explode, you thought a bit desperately as you held his stare, his eyes darkening as the seconds ticked by. Maybe you didn’t have to bare your soul for him in order to get a taste of what you wanted. You could just make it out to be a hookup at a party, something carnal but detached. Give your body to him while still guarding your mind and soul. 
Not giving yourself a moment more to stall, you surged forward, grabbed his neck and kissed him. He wasn’t as surprised as you’d liked by your sudden call to action. In fact, he seemed to come unleashed the moment your lips met his, a grunt sounding in his throat as he instantly wrapped one arm around your waist, his other going into your hair to keep your head firmly put where he wanted it. 
Yes
The kiss was filthy, hot breaths and open mouths and tongue on tongue almost immediately, like a dam of pent up lust had just erupted at that first touch for the both of you. He pushed you back so the marble counter dug into your ass, and plastered himself against you, groaning as your hands moved to map out his back. 
You fumbled to reach for the lapels on his jacket and he let up his hold just long enough for you to wrench his suit jacket off him before both pair of hands went on frantically groping and gripping and touching, and you couldn’t seem to draw breath into your aching lungs for all the burning desire that flooded your body. 
Bucky broke out of your heady kiss, gasping as he leaned his forehead to yours, hands gripping your hip and the back of your neck so tight it almost pinched you, and you relished the feeling. 
“Fuck,” he groaned between pants, and you liked the sound of that very much. 
You gave him a sultry and cocky “mhm” as you kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip. When you opened your eyes again, he was still looking at you, his stare so fucking intense. 
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and that…was stepping into a territory you were not too keen on. You couldn’t have sentimentality at that moment. You couldn’t control your tiny wince either, trying to move on with another kiss, your hands dragging down the hard planes of his chest to entice him to move along. 
Bucky didn’t grant you that mercy. He apparently saw your wince as well as he saw the split in your skirt, and scrutinized you with a piercing stare as he reiterated between kisses. 
“So gorgeous,” he murmured and you tried your damndest to ignore it, kissing him more intently, hands moving a bit desperately to his belt, but an uncomfortable laughter escaped you either way. 
Bucky stopped your hands, grabbing them and putting them on the counter at your side before cradling your face firmly in his hands. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, what is he doing, you lamented as you looked everywhere but his eyes. 
“I mean it, you’re a gorgeous woman,” he said and you whined softly, not at all capable of hearing that. Whether out of a misguided sense of pity or because he wanted to get in your panties, you didn’t want him to tell you that shit just to placate you. You were already dying to get fucked, false flattery was of no need. You were practically soaking your panties already just from his kisses and his hands, one warm and one slightly colder, moving over your body like he couldn’t get to all of it quick enough.
“You don’t have to-” you started exasperated, squirming to get away from the intimacy of his proximity, the way he looked at you and the way he was cradling your face. 
“You see, this is what I mean. I think you’re hiding, doll. You don’t realise how fucking amazing you are, and you hide it behind a bitchy face and even bitchier words,” he said.
Words failed you then. The fucking audacity of this man to call you out like that. You were not prepared to be laid out like that, and you didn’t know whether to fight back with teeth and claws or to flee in your humiliation. 
Bucky must have seen your warring thoughts on your face, the simmering rage at being cornered and confronted like this, like an animal frantic with self preservation. 
“You don’t believe me?” he asked, and you could see a fierce competitive glint light on fire in his eyes, pouncing on the challenge.
In a flash, he’d turned you around and you met your own expression in the mirror above the sink. Bucky stepped flush against you again, and nestled the hard bulge in his pants right against your ass. You squirmed and whined a little. You wanted that inside you already. But Bucky held you tightly pinned between himself and the counter, his metal hand coming around to splay on your stomach, shining metal against the black silk fabric, effectively giving you no room to move. His hand was so huge, it covered nearly the whole area between your belly button and the underside of your heaving breasts. He propped his chin on your shoulder and captured your eyes through the reflection in the mirror. 
“You’re exquisite, doll” he whispered, his other hand landing lightly on your waist. This time you saw your own wince of disbelief in the mirror, instantly embarrassed at how revealing you were. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, both from his words and the way his eyes were just eating your body up in the mirror. 
“I’m nothing special,” you heard yourself murmur. 
“Oh, on the contrary, doll, you’re as rare as they come,” Bucky said, flesh hand moving to grab your hips appreciatively. “Swinging these hips all around the compound, your walk so sweet compared to that barking mouth you’ve got on ya,” he said, drawled a bit, his Brooklyn accent coming forth, kneading your hips and pulling you back to grind your ass on his hard bulge. 
Your breath hitched on a gasp, and your heart fluttered in your chest. He’d been watching the way you walked? And he liked it?
His hands came up to cup one of your heaving breasts. 
“Such elegant lines, perfect, round tits,” he murmured into the skin below your ears, and you trembled in his arms as his fingers teased a nipple through the thin fabric of your dress. 
“A neck that’s just begging to be sucked on and marked,” he continued before his lips sealed itself to that sensitive spot right below the hinge of your jaw and you gasped raggedly as sparks flew through your body. 
You were positively high on the novelty of his praise, but you just couldn’t quite believe it. 
“I’ve…a-always just thought I was so average,” you admitted, voice timid, nothing short of a whisper, and you berated yourself for revealing your insecurity so openly, even as Bucky’s lips let go of your skin and he nuzzled the hair behind your ear. 
“God, no,” he sighed, hand coming down to your hip again, guiding you to grind back on his bulge again, and fuck, he was hard, “I don’t get how you could even think that,” he said, and the genuine astonishment in his voice had to be real, or else he was a brilliant fucking actor. 
Your hips had started moving on their own now, steadily grinding between his metal hand on your stomach and the hard cock at your ass, sizzling sparks of heat traveling your body from the friction. You could feel Bucky nodding into the crook of your neck, encouraging and praising at the same time. 
“But I’m…kinda tall…surely y-you’d want someone shorter, m-more petite?” you heard yourself whisper, and you just had to ask him right out, to give voice to those incessant, nagging insecurities. 
He actually laughed then, a breathy chuckle against the exposed skin of your shoulder. 
“Are you kidding? You nearly gave me a heart attack in these heels tonight, baby,” he said easily, calm and honest and straightforward and it was like he wasn't even trying to convince you of anything, he was just speaking honestly. “And when you danced with me? How sexy and smooth and fucking alive you were as you let me spin you? Couldn’t take my fucking eyes of you, fuck, I haven’t been this hard in ages. Plus, you’re just perfect for me to fuck like this. Can’t you feel how perfectly your ass fits against my cock when you grind like that, huh? Can’t have that with a shorter girl, you were made for me, darling,” he said, breath growing puffy and you were almost shaking, both from his words and the blazing fucking heat they stoked.
A needy, whimpering sort of whine escaped you at that. It was perfect, your height to his. Perfect for you to nudge your ass against his pelvis and feel his hot lips and a sliver of tongue on the heated skin of your neck at the same time. 
“Do you believe me, now, sweetheart? Or do you need me to fuck it into you?” he asked then, a teasing lilt to his voice even as it dropped a fucking octave, rumbling over you skin, making you ache. 
You turned your head to graze your lips against his, recognising when he was posing a challenge by now, when his competitive side came out to play. You waited just a few seconds, letting your mingling, ragged breaths fill the silence, before answering, looking him straight in his eyes.
“I don’t believe you,” you whispered against his mouth. 
His reaction was almost instant. His metal hand came up to cradle your throat, pinning you close to him as his flesh hand had the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips in a split second. His hand was between your legs in the next second, brazen and possessive and you fucking loved it, knees nearly buckling in your stilettos as his warm flesh palm cupped you there. A filthy groan sounded in your ear. 
“Fucking perfect pussy already soaked for me, huh?” he downright growled, fingers moving up and down your clothed slit, feeling just how wet you were through the flimsy fabric of your lace panties. “This pussy aching, huh? Hasn’t been fucked right in ages, I reckon? Some bastard left you feeling like less than just perfect?” he babbled as he began rubbing tight circles on your clit, making you keen at both his words and ministrations, mind floating up to the fucking skies on a cloud of endorphins and arousal. “You give me their names, honey, and I’ll make sure they never bother you again,” he said, dark intentions in an even darker, gruffer voice and you couldn’t stand still for the way you needed him. 
“Fuuuck, please, Bucky,” you whined, grinding your pussy down on his hand, soaking his fingers. 
“That’s right, baby, you take what you deserve, you take what this perfect body deserves,” he encouraged. 
“I need…I need,” you breathed, eyes closing as you rode the sensation of being touched like this, so expertly, too much one second and not enough the next. 
“What do you need, baby? Tell me,” he groaned into the skin of your neck. 
“I need…your…please, your cock,” you whimpered. 
His hands pulled back and gave your pussy a playful little slap, making you jolt and yelp in his arms, and the slight sting felt so fucking good. 
“That’s right,” he said, giving you a few precious seconds to collect your frayed, jumbled, melting mind as he frantically undid his belt and fly, pulling his cock out and pulling your soiled panties to the side to notch his cock at your weeping hole. 
He didn’t give you anymore time to beg before he pushed his hips forward and you both gasped raggedly as his cock slid in, perfectly to the hilt, your pussy sucking him in like it had a mind of its own. His whole frame, massive and rugged as it was, shuddered as he stood there with his cock buried inside you, and you opened your eyes to watch in astonished fascination through the reflection in the mirror as he took a moment to get a hold of himself. One hand flexed its grip around your throat, the other on your hip, grip so tight and you hoped it would leave bruises. 
He didn’t wait long until he started thrusting, pulling out almost completely before thrusting in again, forgoing any buildup and going straight to the main fucking course and you were so ridiculously relieved he wasn’t teasing you anymore. 
His hands let go of you and you fell forward, draping yourself over the counter so you could just feel the way his cock, thick and ridged and so fucking hard, dragged against your walls, yielding nothing as he speared you. 
“Need to see you,” Bucky breathed between pants as he kept fucking you. 
You felt the bodice of your dress loosen and realized he had undone the zipper at the back of your dress, peeling it off your arms and then hauling you the meat of your shoulder to straighten against him again, completely naked from the waist up. 
His hands were on your exposed skin immediately, mapping out your ribcage, squeezing the pouch beneath your belly button and coming up to knead your breasts, pulling on your nipples. He was like a man starved, all the while his cock was steadily pumping into you, pushing you higher and higher, the sounds from where you were joined filtering in through your haze of lust and pleasure like a sinful symphony. 
You opened your eyes to find his in your reflection, pools of incendiary desire following every minute twitch of your face. Your eyes flicked over your own face and saw the crimson flush, the sweat on your brow, hair ruffled, the scrunched up expression and heavy-lidded, drugged eyes. You looked a downright, embarrassing mess, your deepest pleasure so plainly written on your face, exposing you to the point of pain and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to lean back to hide in the crook of his neck. 
Bucky did not let you. 
“Oh no, no, no, don’t hide from me now, sugar,” he said, one hand coming up to pull your face forward, “look at me,” he ordered and you opened your eyes to his again. 
“See how exquisite you are?” he asked, hips slapping against your ass. “See how beautiful you look, taking my cock?” he asked, watching you watch him in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he ordered, and you whimpered as you met your own gaze in the mirror again. 
There was an almost lascivious tilt to his voice as he kissed your neck sloppily and murmured. 
“Tell her she looks beautiful,” he said. 
You thrashed as much as you could in your pinned position, the counter digging into your hips, high heeled shoes barely touching the floor. 
“Bucky,” you whined petulantly. There was no way. 
“Say it, darling,” he warned before his hips slowed down to an almost complete stop, and that only made you thrash harder. “Oh, you want to come baby? Then look at yourself in the mirror and say ‘I’m beautiful,” he said, and you gawked at him in disbelief, humiliation and mortification burning hot on your cheeks. 
The hand not holding your face towards the mirror kept exploring your flesh as he waited, pinching and grabbing everywhere like he just couldn’t stop. You looked at yourself in the mirror, took in the simmering fire in your eyes, your lips with its bright red lipstick smeared all over. 
“Come on, darling, don’t you want to come? Won’t you let me make you come?” Bucky asked, spreading kisses down your neck as his eyes burned into your face through the mirror. 
You fought it for as long as you could, didn’t want to play these games, didn’t want to see your own vulnerability on your face as you said something you should believe but didn’t quite. 
Bucky grinded his hips all the way inside you and then stilled completely and your need won. 
“I’m beautiful,” you whispered, breath hitching as you saw the disbelief, the resistance in your own eyes, hating yourself both for saying it and not believing it. 
Bucky groaned in a resolutely pleased manner and started moving his hips again, languidly stroking in and out of your sopping cunt. 
“Again,” came his growled order from behind. 
Your resilience was weaker this time, with the tip of his cock reaching so deep, adding rhythmic pressure to that elusive spot in the deepest nook of your body that had your knees going wobbly. 
“I’m beautiful,” you said again, this time giving a low, timid voice to the words. 
Bucky groaned behind you, hands gripping you tighter as his hips picked up speed. 
“That’s right. Say ‘I’m gorgeous’.”
“I-I’m gorgeous.”
“Say ‘I deserve this’”
“I d-d - oh fuck - I deserve this - ah -”
“Say ‘I’m making Bucky Barnes crazy on a daily basis and I don’t even care enough to acknowledge it,” Bucky husked behind you. 
That made you actually giggle, though it came out more like a stuttering whine.
“I-I didn’t know,” you moaned, breaking your own eye contact in the mirror to look at his face. You honestly didn’t. Sure, you’d established a playful banter over the years, frequently sparking conversation whenever he was at your desk for something concerning Fury or you met in the halls or right after department meetings. But you’d honestly never considered you, just being you, could be driving a man like him crazy. 
Eyes dark as the ocean burned into yours from where his face was propped on your shoulder, mouth nibbling on the side of your neck and your earlobe as his hips kept up a punishing pace. It was becoming hard to string together coherent thoughts, your mind going hazy from the steady punch of his cock. 
He smiled against your skin, nipping it so hard you squealed a little, head swimming from the mix of pain and pleasure. 
“You’re killing me here, doll,” Bucky murmured playfully against your skin, hands moving again, skimming over your skin and kneading your flesh in such an appreciative way it had you blushing, even as you were steadily pounded by his cock, halfnaked in the bathroom at your workplace during a fucking Christmas party. 
It was all a haze, the way you were hurtling towards the precipice of your orgasm, his cock in your pussy, his hot breath on your neck, his hands roaming your body like a starved beast. The smell of his rich, musky cedar cologne and the hint of fresh, male sweat. And his eyes, devouring everything his hands didn’t touch. 
“I-I’m gonna…fuck, Bucky -” you stammered. You were so close. 
“I got you,” Bucky answered breathlessly, his flesh hand moving down between your legs to stroke your clit in fast, tight circles. 
You keened, vision blurring as your muscles seized, teetering on the edge. You faintly registered your own expression in the mirror in front of you, mouth falling open, eyebrows scrunching and a crimson flush high on your cheeks. 
You heard Bucky groaning behind you and trembled at the sound. 
“Fuck, there you go, baby, fuck you’re squeezing me so fucking - tight, god damn -”
And then Bucky was wrenching your face to the side and kissing you. And maybe it was the way his hips stuttered as you moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was the possessiveness with which he pushed his tongue into yours. Maybe it was the way his metal hand gripped you tighter as you started shaking, or maybe it was the sheer desperation in his kiss as he herded you over the edge that truly made you feel beautiful in that moment. Beautiful and blissed out as you spasmed on his cock, hearing his choked grunt as you pulled his orgasm right out of him.
You felt him throb in turn with you, his cum pooling hot deep inside you, the both of you nearly falling off your damn feet as you came together, the kiss disintegrating to a mere sloppy tangle of breaths and tongues.  
As you slowly came down from your high, your mind started whirring. Halfway preparing for Bucky to pull out and leave swiftly. To maybe give you a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, to push the skirt of your dress down over your ass and then make his exit from this very public bathroom. It wasn’t that you thought Bucky was some kind of sleaze, but it would be okay if he left it at that. You were a big girl, you knew people got carried away during a rowdy fuck, and if he left it at this, you would be fine. You told yourself as much, at least…
But Bucky didn’t leave. He didn’t pull out right away, either. Once you could both catch your breath, he reiterated his kiss, slow and thorough and breathtaking all anew. His metal hand firmly secured your face to meet his and his flesh hand gave your clit a few more gentle swirls, and you could feel his smile, fascinated and playful against your mouth as you jolted at the sensation. Whimpering a little at the overstimulation but keeping yourself completely still for it anyway, you were astonished by how sensitive you were and how fucking good it felt to have Bucky teasingly play with you as you basked in the afterglow. 
You squeezed around his cock still lodged inside you, and he gave a little grunt in response. 
“Careful, sugar, or I might get hard again,” he murmured against our lips, rolling his hips gently into your ass. 
“Is…is that supposed to deter me?” you asked, your snarky tone just a little undermined by the way you gasped. 
He groaned at that, low and pleased. 
“I suppose it should…at least until I can get you out of this fucking bathroom and into a bed,” he murmured, and a surge of adrenaline went through you. He wanted to do this again?
A small thought in the back of your mind wondered how it was possible that no one had come in and interrupted you by now, but it was quickly pushed away as Bucky gently pulled himself out of you. You tried to conceal the shiver of arousal that went through you as you felt his cum leak out of you and down the inside of your thighs. 
“Stay like that,” he whispered, removing himself and the fucking furnace of warmth that had been plastered to your back. The cold air hitting your back made you realize just how naked and exposed you were, your dress a scrunched up tangle low on your waist. 
You didn’t have time to become self-conscious though, before Bucky was back, kneeling behind you. Peaking over your shoulder, you were just in time to see him wipe a damp hand towel up your thigh and gently across the puffy, sensitive mess between your legs. You flushed for an entirely new reason now. It was just so…intimate, and sweet and generous and you struggled to handle the care and tenderness with which Bucky thoroughly cleaned both his mess and yours. 
You watched him quietly as he cleaned you up, and then as he seemingly couldn’t help himself from bending forward and kissing your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe a small lick to your still sensitive clit. You yelped, hips bucking away. 
He shushed you gently and kissed your ass cheek soothingly, fitting the admittedly soggy fabric of your panties back over your pussy before getting on his feet again. With gentle hands, he turned you around, and your eyes went wide as you looked down to see his cock still hanging out of his fly, already back to full hardness. 
Bucky followed your shocked expression down and chuckled. 
“Yeah, I know,” he said, hands still cradling your shoulders, moving up to knead the muscle between your shoulders and neck, and you hummed in pleasure, eyes falling close. 
“Does that always happen?” you asked, feeling the soreness in the muscles ease up under Bucky’s dexterous fingers. 
“No,” he answered simply, and you could tell by his tone that it meant something. That it lent itself to everything he’d said about you and the supposed attractiveness you held to him. You kept your eyes closed and bit your lips to keep from smiling too broadly at that. 
Feeling emboldened, you reached for him, hands finding his clothed chest and stroking down until you reached his cock, wrapping a tentative fist around its stiff heat. 
You heard Bucky suck in a breath, and then his hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight as he thrust his hips lightly a few times, pumping his cock gently through your fist. You were ready to go again by the time he gently pried your hand away and groaned like he was being gently tortured. 
You couldn’t help your pout, opening your eyes to find him gazing at your face. 
“I want to take care of you, too,” you complained, and the gentle whine of your tone sounded so small and decidedly submissive, certainly not fitting the badass work persona you’d built. It just suddenly felt so safe to be a bit whiny with him. 
Bucky only stepped closer and cradled your face in his hands. 
“I’ll let you take care of me later, sweet thing, to your heart’s content. For now, tuck me back in and we can get outta here,” he drawled, Brooklyn accent soothing his tone and lulling you to comply, pacified by his promise to let you take care of him soon. 
You did as he said, tucking his hard cock back into his pants and doing up his fly and belt as he watched your face intently, no doubt seeing the way your eyes grew hazy, your breath labored and your face flushing all anew at the way he held you while you handled him. You let your hands linger over his bulge when you were done, dying to take him out again and just do whatever he wanted to make him feel good. 
Soon, you told yourself, soon. 
“Now, I would like to swing you one last time on that dance floor out there, let everyone see that gorgeous leg through that deadly split in your skirt. And then I want everyone to see you leave on my arm, before I take you back to mine and take care of you properly,” Bucky said, voice even and sure and smile so dashing, you couldn’t help but smile back and nod in enthusiastic agreement. 
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purriteen · 2 months
Text
Ad victor spolia, chapter six
content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years), somnophilia
author’s note: Tigris my beloved I'm so sorry 😭🫶🏻
BIG extra warning for this chapter!! smut, Coriolanus Snow is fucking insane, choking, non-con (again), he treats reader very badly in this chapter
you are responsible for your own media consumption I have warned you
word count: 4,024
Previous chapter
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It had been a few weeks since Romulus and your supposed attacker, a man whom you didn't even recognise, were executed side by side. Everyone had extended their sympathies and condolences to you, not because you'd lost your childhood friend over an accusation that was so obviously false it was painful, or because you had to witness two likely innocent men being fried to death in a surprisingly swift manner, pioneered by doctor Volumnia Gaul herself.
But rather because it took so long for you to get justice. It seemed as if everyone knew more about your supposed assault than you yourself. Once again your brother was ten steps ahead, painstakingly fabricating your entire life and neglecting to tell you until it was already cemented.
You no longer woke up in his bed every morning. You no longer exchanged pleasantries over breakfast, congratulated him or feigned interest in hearing him talk about his day.
Coriolanus hated it. He had intended for the experience to toughen you up a little, make you see the world the same as him, help you see other people for the vipers that they are. But instead it seemed you had turned on him, pinning him as the viper.
Scolding himself for getting impatient with you had quickly grown unproductive, and so he realised he had to solve things elsehow.
That was where Tigris came in.
Although she didn't know it, she would play an important role in pushing you in the only right direction. Losing Tigris would be the last nail in the coffin.
Even if you weren't the same girl you once were by the end of this, Coriolanus would get what he wanted from you. He always did.
To the victor go the spoils.
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Being told that your brother had arranged for Tigris to come over for tea was like a godsend, even if it had been arranged by someone you could only describe as the complete opposite.
Romulus' execution had washed away any hopes you had of your brother being a decent human being. You felt like a fool for believing he might actually be anything other than a callous, miserly serpent.
But it was no use crying over spilled milk. You had to get out of here, and your cousin was your only hope.
Unbeknownst to you, Coriolanus had been as meticulous in shifting Tigris' view of you as he was with everything else.
You immediately knew something wasn't right when you sat down with her in the sitting room.
You had never seen Tigris angry, and that wasn't about to change. But there was this unsavoury look in her eyes, one that you could most accurately describe as sorrowful. Every time that she looked at you, it was as if she was mourning something.
You couldn't bear it.
After a few minutes of fluctuating between lukewarm small talk and an agonising silence, you spoke up.
"Tigris.. Please, talk to me."
It was pathetically subdued, your request. Not conveying even half of the desperation you felt, nor the confusion, the disillusionment.
It only takes her a few seconds to respond, but as her golden brown eyes peer into you for those deathly silent few seconds, you feel as if several years of your life have passed by in a single breath.
"You've changed." Is all that she says, and judging by the look on her face, even that takes a great deal of effort. You can feel her eyes trailing down to your blouse, and it takes you a moment to realise why she seems to have latched onto it.
As you clothed yourself earlier that day, you hadn't thought much of the impression your outfit would give. You were used to having your clothes laid out for you every morning, and although you didn't particularly like it, it was undeniably convenient.
But today, you were dressed in a pussybow blouse, a crisp white colour with buttons and the bow itself in your brother's signature deep maroon colour. Your hair, which you had for years insisted on keeping relatively natural looking, was done up into an overly complex updo.
You looked like all those wealthy, prissy Capitol ladies you and your cousin used to secretly poke fun at. Like your power-hungry brother's wet dream. The version of you that he had painstakingly curated to align with everything that he wanted to portray himself as. You were aware that your image, your entire person, was to him an extension of his own image, but you would've never thought that Tigris would be fooled by it.
Your blood runs cold as the truth crashes into you all at once.
You knew your brother was vicious and that he certainly wouldn't hesitate to keep you and Tigris apart if it was in his best interest. But you never considered how all of this would appear to Tigris, what she would make of how Coriolanus had portrayed you.
At least, you never considered that it might be this.
You thought she would always take your side, that she would always be the one to listen when nobody else did.
The realisation that that is no longer the case hits you like a thousand bullet wounds, puncturing your remaining hope like a balloon.
"Tigris.." You begin, your voice trembling, a look of disbelief and pure regret plastered on your face.
"Why did you ask me here, Hersilia?" She asks, her voice barely above a whisper. She too looks like she's on the brink of tears, her lips pursed.
"You were like a little sister to me. Then when Grandma'am died, you pushed me away, you wouldn't even speak to me," She breathlessly chuckles, wiping a stray tear with her sleeve.
"You love your brother, I can't blame you for that. But you didn't have to abandon our relationship for that.." She says, and although her voice is silken and smooth as always, with a tinge more of hurt, it feels as if she's just driven a dagger through your heart.
"That isn't-" You begin to speak, but you're unable to stop a sob from escaping your throat, the distress overpowering your voice.
Through tear-filled, blurry eyes you watch as Tigris rises from her seat, sniffling as she walks over to you. You're surprised when she takes your hands in hers, gently circling your knuckles with her thumbs. You can tell she's struggling to not burst into tears herself.
"I love you, Hessie, and I know there's still good in you. But you chose him, and if you continue like this you'll be stuck with that choice for good. I tried, but I can't help you any more than I already have." She whispers to you, pressing a shaky kiss to the top of your head, before letting go of your hands and leaving you all alone with your lukewarm cup of tea.
The door quietly shuts behind you, and a maid rushes in as you break into violent sobbing, completely unreceptive to her attempts to calm you down. The last thing you remember is Eugenie entering the room, and yourself finally allowing her to hold you as you bawl.
You know she means well, and she manages to calm you down enough to stop your hyperventilating, but you're also painfully aware that the pain you feel now will never truly go away.
The cathartic relief as you stop weeping will never come.
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You awake later that day to find Coriolanus sitting at your bedside, your own bedside this time. You're back in your own room on the other side of the presidential palace.
He's still dressed in his woollen coat, his hair neatly styled as it was when he left this morning. He gives you a weak smile when you look up at him, stretching out his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, and the audacity of him to ask such a question in this moment makes your blood boil. Perhaps he's already forgotten how he ruined your life, picked it apart down to the bone, all without even telling you, the deceptive fuck.
You used to think your brother wanted to keep the family together, that you were important to him. You allowed him to ensnare you until he had taken everything you once held dear from you right under your nose. You hate that you allowed him to get away with it, with everything.
You don't even realise what you've done until he has your wrist in a grip so tight you feel as if he might crush it, his eyes narrowed and cheek marred with a handprint so bright red it almost looks comical.
You thrash in his grasp, your free hand balled up into a fist as you repeatedly jab it at his chest. But in a matter of seconds he has you pinned down on your chest, your wrists restrained behind your back.
His hot breath tickles your skin, making the hairs on your neck stand as he whispers, no, hisses into your ear. "Do you really think it's a good idea to pick a fight with the only person left in the world who cares about you? Huh?"
His cruel, taunting words cut deeper into you than a knife, making you thrash in his grasp once again as a string of cries and sobs spill from your mouth.
"You were never on my side, you sick bastard!" You spit out, but he quickly pushes your face down into the pillow which effectively shuts you up, his white-knuckled grasp on the hair on the back of your head painfully tight.
"Just shut up, you ungrateful fucking slut. You have no one left to turn to but me. You should be thankful that I don't cut out your tongue or banish you to the districts," He almost shouts at you, but you can tell he's already struggling to keep his voice down. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as you struggle to breathe.
You realise once he straddles the back of your thighs what his intentions are, much too late, as always. His bulge presses against your thighs, horror and disbelief taking over you as you make a final, adrenaline-fuelled attempt at fighting him off. You manage to break your wrists out of his iron grip, only for him to release your head and instead force your hands back into place, his free hand rustling with his belt.
You writhe and shout, but nobody comes to your rescue. He must've cleared this wing of the building beforehand. "You're my brother, you degenerate fuck! If you do this you're no better than those district savages you speak so unkindly of!"
Your words are soon followed by an anguished yell as he bends your wrist at a painful angle, only letting up when you feel as if it's about to snap. In the blink of an eye he has you on your back, hands pinned down at your stomach as he leans in close, his face mere inches away from you.
"Yes, Hersilia, I am your brother," He hisses, grabbing you by your hair and forcing you to keep your eyes on him. "And I made you. I raised you, moulded you into exactly what you are today. You were no one and nothing, and I gave you everything," He continues, his words coming out strained and harsh as he speaks right into your ear, accentuating every syllable of that last word.
"Do you think I did all of that for nothing? So that you could stray from the future I built for us, for our family, so that you could abandon me?" He breathlessly chuckles, his hand working to undo the buttons of your blouse as you struggle to hold back tears, teeth digging into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
As he unties the ribbon around your neck, he replaces it with his hand, snug around your windpipe.
“Answer me.” He snarls, cruelly cutting off your air supply as he waits for an answer. You meekly shake your head in response, to which he lets out a humourless laugh and lets go of your neck. Within the blink of an eye his hand comes back down, hard, on your left cheek, before returning to slither around your neck.
"Useless." He mutters, taking a moment to burn the image of your dishevelled state into his mind before he lets go of your neck, yanking open the rest of the buttons of your blouse to reveal your bare midriff and bra-clad chest. You start to squirm again and he pins your hands above your head in response, his free hand grasping your chin hard enough to make you grimace.
"Hey, look at me. Quit squirming or I might as well let doctor Gaul run one of her little experiments on your head, yeah? Let her stir around your pathetic fucking brain." He practically growls at you, and with the threat of whatever lobotomy-like operation doctor Gaul had in store looming over your head, you finally stop writhing for a while and let the tears fall freely.
He resumes pedantically undressing you, holding your left hand up and pulling the sleeve off whilst the right one remains pinned over your head before repeating the process with the other. Finally he discards your blouse on the floor, a sly grin on his face as he takes in the sight of your barely covered breasts.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He muses, his hand tugging at the zip of your skirt. He soon gets impatient, carelessly yanking it down over your hips and finally tossing it aside, which earns him a surprised gasp. The look on his face is amused, clearly pleased with himself, as he takes in the sight of you in only your underwear.
"Didn't know my own little sister liked to dress like such a little whore," He taunts, making your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You choose not to point out that he's the one who bought everything in your underwear drawer, although this set was definitely among the skimpier options.
"Look at you. Wearing that barely-there bra and those flimsy little panties, and yet you're still trying to hide yourself from me." He sighs, his hand delving in between your squeezed-shut thighs.
"Open." He instructs, and this time the playfulness has entirely vanished from his voice. You swallow hard, trying to brace yourself for the impending humiliation, and slowly spread your legs wider.
"That's better." He pats your cheek almost affectionately, and by god you want to bite his fingers off. You've finally calmed your crying, but when he hooks his digits under the waistband of your panties, you're damn close to starting back up. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction.
So you put on your best poker face, managing to maintain it as he slowly, slowly peels your panties off, revealing your puffy cunt to him. He curses lowly under his breath, and you grit your teeth as you watch him absentmindedly pocketing your panties. Next he hastily unclasps the back of your bra, pulling it off of you and carefully releasing your wrists, now that you're caged in between his arms anyways.
"Don't try to escape, okay? I've got guards stationed just outside. Just let it happen, unless you'd like them to see you naked too." He warns, and you let out a mumbled 'okay'. The fact that his guards know what's happening in your bed in this very moment, and aren't doing anything to stop it, makes your stomach turn.
Even though you were anticipating it, feeling his hands on your naked body makes your breath catch in your throat. His hands explore your exposed tits as his knees settle in between yours, ensuring that your legs stay spread and your sex remains on full display for him.
"Would you look at that, you're wet already," He mocks as he swipes his index finger across your folds, coating his fingertip in your juices. He leans down to whisper in your ear as he slowly pushes his index and middle finger inside.
"You've practically been asking for this, you know. I was going to take you in your sleep that night, when you passed out drunk in my bed, but I wanted you to be awake for this moment." He admits without the slightest bit of hesitation, sending a shiver down your spine. You bite back a groan when he starts to move his fingers in and out at a steady pace.
Without even saying anything about it, he's confirmed what you already knew deep down, that what he claimed lead up to you falling asleep in his bed that night was just an excuse, something he fabricated so he could keep you close to him.
"You're disgusting," You manage to whisper out through gritted teeth, earning you a disinterested sigh.
"And you're much prettier when you're not talking."
His words nauseate you, wondering what it was that everyone else saw in him to earn him the trust of the Capitol citizens. He undoubtedly had superficial charm, but you found it strange that nobody saw past it and saw him for the snake he truly was, even though you yourself had been played for a fool too once.
You're just about to say something in response when his fingertips graze your sweet spot, a whimper falling from your lips before you can stop it. Coriolanus' grin widens at this, starting to repeatedly prod at your g-spot with each thrust of his fingers.
You tense up when he pulls out slightly, pressing his ring finger to your entrance, and before he can push it deeper your own hand paws at his wrist, trying to push him away.
The look on his face instantly hardens, grabbing both of your hands in his and grabbing his previously discarded belt, raising an eyebrow at you as if to warn you that he'll restrain you again if you keep fighting back.
You avert your gaze in shame, mumbling out an 'I'm sorry' in hopes of dissuading him. He reluctantly releases your wrists, tossing his leather belt aside.
"You're on thin ice." He says coldly, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.
Without warning he pushes all three fingers back inside at once, drawing a whine from your lips.
Coriolanus relishes your mortified and sordid state, taking great pleasure in being the first man to taint your innocence. The first and only man who'll ever get to see you like this.
He goes slow at first, allowing you to adjust and himself not to miss out on any of your reactions, wanting to hear every little sound, study every facial expression you make. If he hadn't already waited so long for this moment, he'd have taken his time, made you writhe and squirm and beg him not to stop before he even considered properly fucking you.
But it doesn't take long for him to get impatient. He picks up the pace as he leans down to trail kisses down your neck, planting a dark hickey that would be hard to hide just below where your left cheek ended.
Finally he retreats, bringing his fingers to your lips and watching as you hesitantly take them into your mouth, licking your own juices off of his fingers. As soon as he deems them clean enough, and you mortified enough, he pulls them out and hurriedly undoes his button-down shirt.
You watch with dread as he unzips his pants, taking them off and leaving him only in his boxers and his open shirt. But soon his undergarments come off too, and your breath hitches in your throat when he bares his shaft. He's both thicker and definitely longer than you thought.
He wastes no time in pressing his tip, reddish and already leaking precum, against your puffy folds, rubbing it up and down a couple times to coat himself in your wetness, before grabbing ahold of your waist with his free hand and starting to guide himself inside with the other. It's a tight fit, and you can't help but cry out as the head of his cock slides past your hymen, providing a painful stretch.
Your hands come up to paw at his chest, but this doesn't seem to deter him one bit, as he simply keeps going, forcing himself deeper inside until you can feel his tip prodding directly at your cervix.
There's still another inch or two to go, Coriolanus thinks, but you'll have to work on that over time.
He steadily pulls back until his tip slides back through your hymen, the sore ring of muscles clamping down around him on instinct as he practically slams back in, burying his cock as deep as it would go. A shameless groan spills from his throat, his hand gripping at and bunching up the bedsheets right next to you as he repeats this motion a couple more times.
Deciding that your legs are getting in the way, he swiftly grabs you by the back of your knees and practically folds you in half, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist for stability. He leans down to press his lips against yours, and you can practically feel his victorious, shit-eating grin on your mouth as he slowly and roughly pumps his cock in and out.
From the outside, the two of you could pass for young lovers, tangled in an intimate embrace and bursting with mutual affection. But in reality, he's a serpent masquerading as a man, slowly, slowly sucking the life out of you.
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"You're nothing without me," He grunts lowly as he fucks into you, hand wrapped around your throat. When he receives no response he squeezes slightly, eyes boring into yours. "Say it." He emphasises his words with another, harsher squeeze, refusing to break eye contact as he relentlessly pounds your weeping cunt.
"'M nothin', nothin' without you," You blubber out, looking up at him through teary eyes. You never thought your brother would take it this far, but now it's clear that he'd been waiting for his chance to defile you ever since you first moved into this house of horrors.
You've lost count of how many times he's forced you to cum around his cock by now. With him frequently asphyxiating you, never allowing you to fully catch your breath before his hands reclaim their place around your throat, your mind has been perpetually hazy for the past hour.
You know for sure however that he's came inside you twice already. Enough for his spend to be leaking out of your sore mound and trickling down onto the sheets. You pleaded with him to pull out the first time, but by the time he approached his second orgasm of the night you had given up.
At the end of the day, you knew that Coriolanus would never allow you to get pregnant out of wedlock, especially not with your own brother's child. He would make sure it didn't take one way or another, for the sake of his own reputation. Certainly not for your sake.
He lightly slaps your left cheek, his thrusts starting to get sloppy as his cock throbs deep inside of you. "Look at me. Look up at me, stupid fuckin' slut." He huffs, and even though he's called you worse before, the vulgarity of his words still manage to take you by surprise.
He flashes you a crooked grin when your eyes finally meet his, savouring the fucked out, defeated look on your face. Your beautiful eyes, lined with smudged mascara that trails down the valley of your cheeks, filled with misguided disdain and crushed hope. Your soft lips, puffy and agape as you gasp for air.
Coriolanus had never felt quite this enamoured with you before. On a bad day, you were pretty, but now that he had you splayed out underneath him, your sweet cunt wrapped around his shaft, you were nothing short of divine.
This was the version of you he adored the most.
Tame, vapid and pliant.
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taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse, @priyajoyy, @euphemiaamillais @harvey-malfoy
so likeee... y'all want an epilogue or no?
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harlowsthetic · 10 months
Text
Missing Anniversary.
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Featuring. Jack Harlow x Fem! Wife! Reader.
Anonymous Request. Can you write a jack fic where he misses an important date like anniversary or something so a little angsty that turns into fluff.
Summary. Jack misses an anniversary and you’re upset.
General Tags. Angst and Fluff.
Content Warnings. Crying that's it.
Word Count. 809.
Notes. Anon, I hope I did your request justice, I'm so nervous, this is my first fic that's out on this acc and I really wish I did good, please go easy on me. If you'd like to be tagged when future works are out, you can fill out that taglist form.
Extra. Requests are open, please read my rules beforehand! / Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured.
Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist
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When Jack came home, you were sitting on the couch strolling through your Instagram not even throwing a glance his way. He walks in and smiles when he sees you. “Hey babe, it was a good day at the studio, got a lot done but I missed you though.” He said with a huge smile on his face as he walked up to you going to kiss your lips but you moved your head slightly so that his lips met your cheek. 
“What was that?” He questioned but you just ignored him and kept scrolling through your phone. You were pissed and you had every right to be, today was your wedding anniversary and you thought to make it special by cooking his favorite food and setting up his favorite lingerie that he could take off of you later but he forgot. You tried giving him the benefit of the doubt like maybe his phone stopped working but he texted you earlier asking you to send a picture of the cologne he regularly used.
You knew he would be busy with his album, and you were fine with that, you supported him every step of the way but you never expected him to forget an important day like this, you treasured this day so much, the day you married your high school sweetheart so him forgetting made you feel hurt, you’d have been happy if he just sent a text, it was the thought that count.
“So you not gon tell me why you’re acting weird?” Jack was getting quite annoyed at being ignored especially when he came home early to be with you since he missed you throughout the day, you were the only thing on his mind when he was at the studio so for you to be acting this way towards him was crazy. You simply rolled your eyes and got up and walked past him, bumping his shoulder as you walked to the dining table and picked up the plates of food that were now cold, and made your way to the kitchen to wrap them with saran wrap. 
Jack wondered what he could’ve done to make you this mad at him but he came up empty. What he did know was he wasn’t going to let you go to bed angry. “Babe, please tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” he spoke softly as he walked into the kitchen, watching you put the food in the fridge. You ignored him again and were about to make your way to the bedroom but Jack immediately got in front of you, stopping you from taking another step. “Nuh-uh, you know we don’t do silent treatment and no going to sleep angry at each other,” he says as he looks down at you. 
“Jackman move out of my way,” you said as you got annoyed with him being in your presence, not wanting to look into his eyes knowing if you do, you would give in like you always did. Jack was surprised by the use of his first name since you always called him ‘babe’ or ‘baby’. “Not until you tell me what's going on.” 
“Do you know what today is? Why don’t you check the date!” You yelled as you stepped back putting some distance between you and him. You watched him pull out his phone with a quizzical look on his face and when he sees the date, you turn your back towards him not wanting to make eye contact since you might start crying at any moment. “Baby… I’m so sorry, I thought it was tomorrow, I swear I have everything planned,” you stayed silent and he came closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him and that’s all it took for the tears to roll down your cheeks and he started rocking you back and forth.
“You know I love you right?” He says soothingly as he starts tracing shapes on your stomach, you nod your head silently and lean more into his touch. “I promise you, I thought the 25th was tomorrow and had everything ready for us to celebrate,” 
“It wouldn’t hurt you to start checking your calendar on your phone,” your response makes him chuckle. “Yes, I’ll be more up to date from now on, can we start over our anniversary for tomorrow, trust me you gon love what I have planned.” 
You turn around in his arms and look into his blue eyes. “Yes we can, I’m sorry I was mean to you,” he shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, I deserved it, I love you,” he rubs your arm a bit. “I love you too, babe,” he connects his lips with yours, holding you close to him not letting you go, come tomorrow he will make it all up to you.
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