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#only descendants can do this i swear
thetimelordbatgirl · 2 years
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Summary of my feelings on Descendants 4 currently:
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randomnameless · 2 months
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Typing about the best wildlife scholar made me realise something -
We know Dheginsea's extremist isolationist and non-interventionist policies were motivated by his wish to stop the propagation of wars, or at least, not to create a situation where the entire continent would be engulfed in War, else Ashera would wake up and erase the population.
Which is what he ultimately believes happened - that's why we fight against him in FE10, because the plot is stupid and cannot have Yune tell him "hi! We were woken by Galdr, Ashera mistakingly believes the inverse!" before his ultimate defeat.
But thinking more about it -
The Three Heroes (tfw Lehran's not part of the gang) made a pact with the Goddesses : they had to ensure 1k years of peace else they would stone Humanity. If they wake up in 1k years and the world is in chaos, they would stone it. If not, then kumbaya.
If they wake up before those 1k years due to war, the world is stone. If they are awoken by Galdr, they should, uh, talk to each other to decide what to do.
To Dheginsea, the only person who could sing the Galdr of Release, Lehran, lost the power to do so when he lost his abilities as a Laguz : ergo, without any possibility to wake the Goddesses up with Galdr, the only way to avoid Ashera's judgment was to avoid wars for 1000 years, even if it means... well, ignoring people suffering and letting them die at your doorstep.
So, Dheginsea, if he revealed the truth about Lehran, would have started a war against Beorcs (there's no way Laguz who know the truth will accept the status quo that if they live too closely with Beorcs they die), and without Galdr : Ashera wakes up "with war" and stones everyone.
If he intervened like Lehran wanted, and had Goldoa stomp Begnion/Beorcs who enslaves Laguz? Ashera wakes up "with war" and stones everyone, since she can't be waken up with Galdr anymore.
Hell, if Dheginsea terminated Ashnard and Daein as he planned too after losing Rajaion and Almedha (what FE10 tells us... but can we seriously believe this when in FE9 he dgaf about the situation?), again we have the same situation : Ashera wakes up due to war and stones everyone.
The only reason why the cast "won" and Tellius isn't stoned anymore is because unbestknown to Lehran, Dheginsea and well, everyone in Tellius, Lehran's branded descendants (who conveniently weren't all wiped out!) can actually sing the Galdr of Release and release Yune, who can circumvent the "Ashera wakes up with war and stone everyone".
-> When Lehran lost his powers and couldn't act as an alarm anymore, the only way to "wake the goddesses before 1k years happen" is with war and their judgment would be to kill everyone.
So Dheginsea had to grit his teeth and accept every fucked up thing that happened in Tellius because Lehran - due to this world's crappy mechanics - cannot "wake up the Goddesses" earlier and ask them to withold their judgment : if there is a war they will kill everyone - they must endure for 1k years, else Tellius is doomed.
Tl;Dr : TFW "make love not war" backfired in Lehran's case, and completely fucked up the covenant they had with the goddesses and if Miccy chocked on a pretzel, Lehran's love for Altina (aka him losing his powers) would have led to Tellius being wiped out even without his own participation.
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blacklight-shadows · 2 years
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Tag Dump! (Characters/Verses)
#Now life goes on/But I’m stuck in December | Writer/Etch#No more golden weather/All war and no surrender | Macaque/Blacklight#I’m either numb/or feel too much/and there is no in between | musings#So I close my eyes/and lose myself/not doing like it’s only today | ship musings#We gotta party for a lifetime/and we don’t care about the bad nights/and for a second I can feel like this | Blacklight Shadows#successor of my beloved’s/you’ll be strong/just give it time | goldenpathtotheheavens/Monkie Kid#Descendant of the dragon/ring of fire without end/daughter of fire/of ash/of ends | goldenpathtotheheavens/Mei#Successor of the shadows/inner darkness never fathomed/friend from another time/chaos forever on the mind | goldenpathtotheheavens/Mike#I’ll do better (this I swear)/so you never have reason to fear | goldenpathtotheheavens/Guanyin/Lotus#I’m gonna live loud/until there’s no breath left in me/I’m gonna live through hell/so I’m left with no regrets | Sun Wukong/Glow#These scars won’t define you/rise above the Hell that made you | sharpshooternomoremoxxie/Moxxie Devoe#break the chains/prisoner no more/we’re on our own/what could the future have in store? | Mainverse#pull a story from the stack/just make sure it doesn’t crack | Unspecified Verse#haven’t we made it obvious?/we’re not going away without a fight | Season Three Verse#An eye for an eye/window to the soul trapped inside | Soulmates Verse#I know some people/they would die for me/we run together/they’re my family | goldenpathtotheheavens#Follow me/take my hand/sailing the same course/wild and free/waves and sand/what’re we waiting for? | Neon Shadows and Arcade Lightshows
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satoruhour · 5 months
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AY ! SPANK IT.
a/n: had to physically hold myself back from not doing any lore. i failed (for gojo’s at least). enjoy / tagging my babies @redskyvenus @suguella @satorena @screampied @jabamin @marimogf @osaemu @ryovie
wc: 3.5k
warnings: sp*nking for all (i cheated on gojo’s part but we don’t talk bout that), fem!reader, gojo is older than in the series (late 30s), semi-public oral (m! receiving), deep throating, he’s a little rough, a stranger listens in (gojo), implied multiple rounds, unprotected p -> v sex, (geto), implied multiple rounds, fingering, clit stimulation, pussy slaps, unprotected p -> v sex (nanami), you ask soft dom!toji to be rougher, implied multiple rounds, face slapping, unprotected p -> v sex (toji), n*sfw under the cut
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✶ GOJO
your mind’s racing. that’s the only thing you can focus on, and maybe also the fact that gojo looks absolutely dashing in the suit he bought, taking you out for a whole day of shopping just because he can, so you got yourself a dress that goes all the way to the floor while he had another suit to add to the collection. it was so terrible, too, because you’re at utahime’s wedding dinner and all you can think about is getting to your knees to suck him off.
“need somethin’?” gojo whispers with hand clasped over yours, voice softer than usual. he’s grown much into his age, now well into his late 30s and you have to physically hold yourself back every waking hour. his way of living is a tad bit softer and tender when it comes to you.
you swallow, “i might ruin the mood.”
gojo laughs and it’s got your cunt throbbing, “nothing you say could ruin the mood, baby.”
sparing a glance towards utahime and her wife, you feel a little bad that you’re going to do what you’re going to do, but it’s only the fourth course and the band on stage is kinda shit. so you’re standing and pulling on his wrist, excusing yourself from the table of sorcerers that already have an inkling of your imminent activities; you even think you can hear nanami sigh.
“where’re we goin—” gojo’s surprised by your eagerness and the quickness in which you say shut it, navigating the second floor of the hotel and even making the effort to head to the bathroom further from the function room. he grins in recognition.
wordlessly, you’re shoving him into the men’s bathroom because you’re past your senses and you don’t care any more, walking your husband back into a stall. there’s a shocked yelp from the occupied stall beside you but you hardly give a shit, locking the door and crashing your lips against satoru’s.
“so eager,” he whispers against your lips, gasping into your mouth when you squeeze his bulge. you waste no time palming it, kissing down his jaw just for a little tease and making your bluish-black mark on his neck before you’re dropping to your knees and fumbling with his belt. you can’t look up at your husband’s piercing eyes because you know you’d cower in shame at your sex-crazed surge, but you do anyway and you only melt further into the floor.
you’re left wondering why his enemies always don’t freeze in awe when he removes his blindfold, because your cheek feels at home on his pelvis as you continue to massage his erection, a small smile spreading when his hand cradles your cheek.
“go ahead, princess,” he takes over, releasing his cock from the confines of his underwear and you’re scooching closer to him, taking his shaft in your fingers as they slowly stroke him to full hardness. gojo’s good at keeping his moans in, fixated on the baby blue nails that he paid for moving up and down, and he swears he catches a hand that goes in between your legs to rub at your clit.
that is until you’re waste no time messing up your make-up, mouth descending on his cock and gojo lets out a drawn out moan at the warmth of your mouth. it contrasts with the intense coldness of the hotel and resembles your tight cunt so well that he almost cums and you smile at the twitch you feel in your mouth.
“yeesss . . take it down your throat like a slut,” he looks at you, possibly hypnotised by how you start bobbing your head, swirling your tongue on the underside of his cock without rest. you slobber over him, gargling noises and your hand pumps the area you can’t reach and the other only draws messy circles on your clit, filling the bathroom with the obscene noises of your mouth paired with gojo’s whines and whimpers. silently, he beckons you closer and you catch his drift, both hands holding onto his thighs.
taking in a breath, you’re going all the way slowly, gently, and gojo lets you, hands cradling your head and helping you — so much so that he’s hunching over in pure pleasure, bent over and chin touching his chest from how he wanted to keep his eyes on you. your eyes never stop looking up at him, variations of mmhm’s leaving your throat and sending vibrations all throughout his length that he groans at.
“f-fuck— mouth so damn warm,” satoru chokes out, feeling a sense of pride when the corners of your eyes fill up with tears and you gag a little, but you press on because he’s trained you well. he can only focus on the gagging sounds and your nose buried in his pubes, mouth muttering out profanities. “just a little bit— s-shit . . just a lil more, baby.” 
it’s not everyday the strongest sorcerer begs, drunk on feeling his tip hit the back of your throat and the dig of your nails in his thighs. your muffled moans only spur him on, another surge of amusement blooming in his chest when he sees the other person hurriedly leaving the stall next to you. gojo’s fingers bury themselves in your hair and pulls, grinning down at your melting mascara and smudged lipstick. you look like the embodiment of filthiness, tongue lolled out and eyes almost rolling back as you try to catch your breath.
“sa— satoru . .” you whine, mouth chasing his cock and manage to catch his tip, suckling and slurping up his pre-cum, “give it t’me.” that gets him grunting and swatting your hands away as he forcibly takes your chin and his cock, slapping it all over your face and you moan at the sheer girth and size of him. you let it rest against your face and your husband wishes he had his camera out to capture this. maybe next time.
“tongue.” and you’re sticking it out, and he slaps his tip along your tongue, too, clear sounds resonating throughout the restroom. outside, he hears the sink stop and with a thumb, drags your jaw to open more.
“let’s give ’im a show, shall we?”
✶ GETO
you see, you’ve always known your man to be an ass man — from noticing the way his eyes follow your figure in a bodycon dress to the special attention he gives it during cuddling, but you’re never truly prepared (you didn’t think he was more obsessed over your ass than you are) for how much he loves it when he’s always got your face buried into the pillows and your lower half propped up.
you’re on god knows what round, drool seeping into the duvet and your juices soaking the sheets and moans leaving your lips. geto’s got you in full nelson, mating press, you can’t even remember any more when the only thing you can think of is his cock easing into you.
“gone so many rounds and still need some dick in her,” he laughs and you burn from embarrassment, and yet you love it, pushing your ass back into him while his grip on your waist tightens, “don’t blame ’er — i love this fuckin’ pussy too.”
you preen at the praise, turning your head to find geto struggling between looking at your face of pleasure and your ass; he lets his desires win, memorising the cute pants and desperate furrow of your eyebrows before he reluctantly pulls his eyes away. but how could he resist — when your butt is pushed up against his pelvis so nicely, the stretch of your dripping cunt in full view and the jiggle of your ass whenever his body meets yours.
his hands leave your waist and spread your cheeks to see how his fat cock leaves and reenters you, full of your mixed cum from the previous sessions that there’s a ring of white that forms at the base of his length with each thrust. it spills all over and down his balls, down your thighs and it’s so sloppy once he starts moving, the wetness of your pussy only encouraging him further.
“pretty little doll takes my cock so well, hm?” suguru hums, fingers squeezing and releasing the fat of your ass. it only anchors him to be rougher and more precise in his thrusts, tip just kissing your cervix that has got you crying out. your head’s foggy but your grip is strong, clutching the sheets below you until your knuckles turn white. in a moment of sensitivity, your hand flies to grab at his wrist.
“sugu—” you gasp, and you meet his eyes, dark with lust while his hair falls all around him. it’s hot, he’s hot and you watch him lick his lips and smile that dizzying smile of his as he changes the pace however he likes to. one moment he’s grinding into your cunt, and the other, he’s snapping his hips roughly.
“yes, darling?” it’s taunting, just like the way he pushes down on your back to accentuate your arch, tugging your hips onto his front.
“s’good, love it, love it—!” you mewl, eyes squeezing shut from the immense pleasure and overstimulation, “feels t’good—”
there’s no answer except a resounding smack that echoes through the room and you gasp again, a choked whine leaving your mouth. you can feel heat forming on your ass and geto’s sick chuckle only makes you open your eyes again to meet him and he’s soothing the place where he spanked.
“yeah? that feel good, huh?” he coos, picking up the pace and ramming into you with the roughness of someone who’s been denied pussy for days and he spanks you again, again and again, the pain so exhilarating. geto cannot keep his eyes off you, watching, hypnotised, the way your ass moves under his hand, “just love this ass so damn much.”
geto catches your smile just as your lips part to whimper out his name and he only props one of his legs up to get deeper in you, a long groan escaping from him when you clench around him.
another smack, another one of your moans, another plea and he laughs breathlessly, cock twitching in you.
“guess i found my girl’s guilty pleasure.”
✶ NANAMI
nanami loved your pleasure. whether it was through oral or just pure sex, the way he knows that he’s making you feel good is enough for him to cum, the satisfaction of doing his job as a partner and the knowledge that you’re the only one to fall apart by his hands. that’s why he never stops until he feels like you’ve had enough, talking you through your many orgasms until you’re spent.
he chuckles lowly into your ear from behind, legs holding down your own as your body convulses from another climax that he’s brought you to. you’re squeezing so much around his fingers that he has trouble removing them, the other hand calming down your heaving stomach.
“you’re relentless, kento . .” you mumble, head slumping onto his shoulder and back, breath hitting the hair that’s at the back. your lover takes the opportunity to mark your neck, alternating between licking and sucking into the skin there. his hands always are so much larger on your body — when they wrap around your middle at events to guide you around, around your arm where you’re cooking at home together — it always sends you into hysterics.
“but you do like it, don’t you, my love?” his tone is soft, sending the hairs along your body to stand, because no matter how soft, the rasp in which he speaks with never fails to thrill you.
“i do, kento, but ’m so sensitive; not sure if you like it,” you hum, removed from your daydream when you feel his cock slap against your thigh. knowing you’re prepped for him, he doesn’t answer but only sighs into your ear when he slips in, your cum providing enough for him to slowly inch himself in.
“of c—” it’s strained, he says it through his teeth, “’course i like it, baby. i love it, even.” nanami groans when he starts to thrust up into you, drunk on the moans and whimpers you feed him. instinctively, your legs try to close but his hands are quicker, holding you open that you need to hold onto him for some sort of grounding, because it was just too. much.
“k-kento,” your voice wavers when you feel him bottom out, watching his hands wander over your sweat-filled body. he hadn’t even fully undressed from his mission duties, still wearing his watch with his trousers pulled down halfway. your pussy was just too good. “so full—!”
“y-yeah . . it is, darling girl doin’ so good f’r me,” nanami’s sounds only send shivers down your body, hands finally coming to rest along your tits. he plays with them, fingers fondling with your nipples and squeezing mindlessly while his hips give you calculated thrusts into your soaking cunt, “doing so good and taking my cock like a good girl. yeah, aren’t ya?”
you nod into his embrace but you wished he’d give some attention to your neglected clit, something that he’s been set on abusing for the past orgasms — and now he doesn’t give it any sort of attention?
“kento— mmfuck—! w-want you to,” your sentence is cut off by your own cries of swears and your boyfriend’s name until he’s turning your head so he can kiss you. devouring your sounds, he speaks against your lips.
“what is it, sweetheart?”
distracted from the kissing, you never notice the way his hands make a beeline for your core, and the first rub of you clit has got you clamping down hard around his length and he grunts.
“was it that?” and you nod again like a dumb slut, hips bucking up into his hold and you can feel his own falter, loving how warm your gummy walls were. it was disgusting; with each move of his pelvis, your juices only spurt everywhere and anywhere, dripping down right onto the sheets.
“m-more . .” you mumble, back arching and body shivering from the intensity of everything, while nanami looks between your eyes and mouth like he’s ingraining the pretty painting of ecstasy of your face into his mind. he makes sure to keep his hazel eyes locked on you, and, rewarded well when his hand comes down upon your clit in a messy slap.
“kento!” your head lols back, muscles pulled taut while your lover only smiles, and he does it again whilst his cock is endlessly pumping into you.
the slaps continue and they’re wet, lewdly wet and it makes you even more flustered and embarrassed that you’re hiding your face into his neck. each slap is like a hit to your head, making you dizzy and giddy and you want nothing more than to cream all over his cock.
they’re harsher — a strength nanami never liked to execute on you but seeing your body convulse like this, seeing your eyes blown wide and jaw slack only makes his spanks against your pussy rougher until you’ve gone silent.
“g’nna cum like this? filthy girl . . simply from my spanks?” he laughs into your hair, knowing to angle his hips just right and that’s got you speaking his name like a mantra, “i’ll definitely need to see my darling girl so ruined again.”
✶ TOJI
“you want me to be . . what?” 
contrary to popular belief, toji has always (mostly) been gentle with you in bed. having come from a rough past, he’s only ever treated you like glass, entirely different from the way he was treated as a child. he’s done that to his ex-wife, as well, and now to you, thinking that if he’d ever do anything wrong, you’d leave him.
“i want you to be rougher . . toji,” it’s not something that warrants the use of his first name when a pet name is more than enough, but you both know this stems from something he’s afraid of and you’re only showing your concern through using his given name. “i can take it.”
toji coos at your big girl words, something he adores even before you’ve gotten in a relationship with him and he brings you closer with a toned arm around your waist, “are ya sure?”
and like always he’s making sure you’re okay with everything that he’s done so far, checking up on you, taking breaks in between, so you work your magic. with one hand on his forearm and one more on his face, you’re asking for more, more, more, even as he’s buried deep in you, pussy still struggling to take him because he’s just so big.
“want more, do ya?” he grunts, both hands holding you by the ankle while he thrusts into you with the force of an animal, of many pleas of you wanting more has landed you in this position — cum spilling out of you, sheets filled with your sweat and your clit feeling sore as hell — and you love every second of it. you nod pathetically, eyes welling up with tears from just how good his dick game was and when he laughs, you swear you feel your pussy flutter.
“c’mon, s-shiiit . . watch me fuck this pussy,” he manages to get out, a mix between a groan and grunt that speech is a little distorted, but you prop yourself up anyway, yelping when his hands caress down your legs to your knees and pushes. you end up with your knees to your chest and a front seat view of his cock moving in and out of you, a clear sheen of slick along his shaft from your combined juices.
without warning, he’s spitting onto your clit, a long string of saliva that hangs from his mouth until it finally reaches your core and you moan from obscene action. your hips only wiggle closer to him, chasing that same thrill. “again.”
he lets out a laugh in disbelief, “again? dirty little slut.” and he wraps his fingers around your chin even as you continue to pant and mewl, further emphasising his overpowering strength over yours and drawing your eyes from the hypnotising sight in front of you to meet his dark green ones that are filled with desire.
your mind is overwhelmed with everything, from the fullness of his throbbing cock in you to the feeling of your knees digging into your clavicle. he doesn’t even need to open your mouth for you before he’s gathering another ball of saliva and spitting it into your mouth. 
“swallow,” and you do so obediently, chest heaving in anticipation while your neediness only prompts a sly grin out of toji. all the while, his hips are still moving, sending you into oblivion with you mumbling that you want even more and toji’s set out to give you something that he remembers you mentioning on a random day to your girlfriends on call.
with the same hand around your chin, he’s giving your cheek a light slap, heat already blooming from the fat of your cheek from the roughness of his hands. and he halts — he’s afraid you’ll think he hates you but all you do is clench tighter around him while a cockdrunk smile spreads across your face.
“like it— love that, toij . .” you giggle, seemingly confused about why his thrusts stop but he wastes no time resuming his pace when he sees your eyes begging for release, groaning out at the freeness he feels upon listening to you. he loves watching your pussy take him, cum gushing everywhere, but with his new discovery, he’s too fixated one seeing that look on your face again.
so he interrupts your never-ending moans with another slap and that only garners another tightening of your cunt, biting your lip with a small grin.
“like it when i’m rough with ya, huh?” toji laughs, holding your chin and slapping, playing with your lips and slapping and each time you give him what he wants — a broken moan or a call out for him, spurring his hips on until all that’s left of the room is the smell of sex and the lewd slapping of skin. “never knew my angel girl was such a cock slut . . i like her like this too, fuck!”
“always been like this,” you giggle, pulling him in just to tease him as your lips leave hot breaths on his, “just needed the right man to get it out of me, right?”
“that’s right, baby,” toji returns your cheeky smile, before a hand lands another slap on your face and you’re sent over the edge, body trembling under him and pussy spilling all over him. you’re clenching so hard that he can’t move, but like always, your lover never forgets to talk you through it. 
“thaat’s it, cream all over my cock, doll,” and he grabs your face lightly again, soothing the area on your cheeks with a small grin.
“at least i know what she likes now . . and i’ll be sure to deliver.”
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yawnderu · 6 months
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you can't just give us the image of Simon holding hands during sex, now I need something to sleep on
Simon doesn't fuck— Simon makes love. Passionate kisses are exchanged as the clothes come off at an almost painfully slow pace, taking his time to savor every single second with you, to truly take in just what he's about to do with the woman he knows he'll spend the rest of his life with.
His kisses only stop when he has to take a few seconds to truly admire what's in front of him, to take in the sheer beauty, to look down at you like you're his savior. In many ways, you are. His rough, calloused hands go up to cup your cheeks, gently forcing your face up to keep eye contact as his forehead rests against yours. He swears he can see God every single time he looks into your eyes, ignoring his own reflection and focusing simply on everything they hold; your love, desire, yearning, lust.
You look at him like he's worth something— like he's not a mutt with matted hair who'll end up getting shot in an alleyway out of pure mercy. You look at him like a stray you took in, showing him love and compassion, appreciating the way his fangs are bared at the world but never at you.
He plants the gentlest kiss on your lips before he begins descending, leaving open-mouthed kisses that light fire on their way down. His rough hands are gentle only with you, pushing your body down on the mattress with so much tenderness you swear he thinks you're a rich fine china. He plants kisses down your stomach, eyes closing as he focuses on the sensation of your warmth against his lips, swallowing thickly before he opens your legs.
Teasing kisses and soft bites are given to your inner thighs before his lips finally find what he has been craving like a starved man. One last kiss is pressed to your mound, his tongue coming out of his lips to lick a flat stripe over your already wet cunt, his saliva and your fluids mixing together, giving him the chance to eat you out even better. It doesn't take long before he's latching onto your erect nub, alternating between rolling his tongue over the bundle of nerves and suckinf on it, your moaning only encouraging him to keep going.
Your back arches, hand coming down to gently pull on his cropped hair, pushing him even closer to your core, wanting to feel more of the intense sensation. He lets go of your clit for a second, his tongue now more focusing on gathering the wetness all over your entrance before pushing in, his thumb coming up under his face to rub on your clit, doing circular motions as his tongue goes in and out of your cunt.
"Si— need you." Your breathy whisper earns a deep chuckle out of him, planting a kiss on top of your wet cunt before finally breaking away, standing up to his full weight and pulling down his boxers. The sheer sight of his naked body never fails to amaze you no matter how many times you've seen it, his strong, tattooed body bare only for you to see. His vulnerability is and will always be reserved for a single woman; you.
He plants a soft kiss for your lips as he lines himself up, his cock big and heavy, veins visible on the length of his shaft, but he has trained you well enough to be able to take him. He sinks into you slowly, allowing you to get used to the stretch as he bottoms out, the small gasp that comes out of your lips is enough to make his eyes drift up to your face, taking in your expression. He sees nothing but pleasure, but he doesn't keep going until you nod your head and pull him closer.
His thrusts are deep and slow, hips rolling to make sure every single inch of his cock is buried all the way inside you, a thin layer of cream forming on the base of his shaft. He supports his weight with one of his elbows, not dropping his full weight on you yet in fears of hurting you, hips rolling over yours slightly faster to hear more of your whiny moans, his thin lips planting loving kisses all over your neck while his hand blindly seeks for yours, slight desperation in his actions, needing to hold onto you like a lifeline as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge.
His hand finally finds yours, fingers intertwining, squeezing softly to display love and reassurance; to bring both of you even closer while your bodies are connected, skin slapping against skin and combined moans forming a melody he thinks about often while he's away. His tongue licks a flat stripe over your pulse before his face seeks shelter on the crook of your neck, muffled moans and deep grunts playing right into your ear. Your legs wrap around his waist, fitting oh so perfectly like a missing puzzle piece, bringing him even closer to your throbbing cunt.
"Fuck, love—" The pressure of your thighs grows, both of you not even managing to form sentences between moans yet the squeezes you deliver to each other's hands are enough to communicate. Your walls tighten up around him, velvety tissue shortly being painted white with his thick cum, feeling him go all the way inside to make sure not a single drop is wasted.
He pulls out slowly after a few seconds of regaining your breath, planting a soft kiss to your forehead before rolling over next to you, his burly arms wrapping around your tired frame, keeping you safe. Not a single word is spoken between the lovers, only gentle kisses and loving gazes being exchanged while you recover. His hand seeks for yours again, this time examining it carefully; already picturing how good the ring he bought will look on you once you say yes.
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Text
Bad mood
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: fluff, jealous Miguel, the getting injured trope AGAIN, swearing. hobie and the gang messing around, lyla playing matchmaker
A/N: i got carried away oops. He may be off character im sorry but i really think this man needs some fluff.
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   “What’s up with her?” Gwen asked, watching as you stomped through headquarters with a frown. “Everyone got their bad days,” Pavitr stated, chomping on his Spiderman 2099-themed burger. “Remind me not to get on her bad side.” Gwen watched as the other Spidermen scurried out of your way. “She could match up to Miguel's bad temper..”Peter stood with an amused smile with Mayday napping in the baby carrier he had on his front. 
=========================. 
   You were not having it at all the entire week. You were busy enough with the missions you had and now, you still had to babysit a man-child. Now, you stood in said man-child’s office, watching his platform slowly descend while he kept his back facing towards you like he was in some cliche spy movie and was trying to hide his identity from you. You could almost picture him saying the iconic “I’ve been expecting you” and turned around. You rolled your eyes at the sight of him, your patience thinning with every passing second.
   “Hey! Perfect timing!” Lyla waved frantically from her side beside Miguel. Miguel grunted and groaned, waving Lyla away. Lyla popped up in front of your face and you instinctively took two steps back at how close she was to you. “Miguel’s not getting help- again.” Lyla rolled her eyes at the last word. Lyla popped up next to Miguel again, pointing at his side and the blood that was slowly dripping down from the gash. You could hear Miguel curse in Spanish and grunt before turning away from you further in an attempt to hide his injury. You simply closed your eyes, taking a few calming breaths. 
   “O’Hara. Go to the med-bay.” You stated in a low voice. “I’m fine, Lyla’s exaggerating-” Miguel stopped talking when his eyes met your figure. There was a menacing aura around you, one that Miguel will not admit scared him. “O’Hara” You warned and he shuddered slightly at the mention of his last name. You only used his last name when you were mad at him or trying to annoy him and he doubted it was the latter. You slammed the files you were holding onto the floor. “Lyla, make sure he doesn’t injure himself further. I’ll be back.” You simply said before waltzing right out of his office again. “Will do!” Lyla shouted after you. “Great! You pissed her off. Way to go Lyla!” Miguel said sarcastically as he sat down on the chair while his platform was still in the midst of descending. “Don’t push the blame, Miguel. It’s you she is mad at. I can’t believe you even managed to piss her off! She used to be all smiley and stuff and now she’s acting like you with the permanent scowl on her face.” Lyla nagged. 
   Miguel’s jaw dropped at your request when you returned. He stared at the wheelchair that you had just pushed into his office. “I can walk perfectly fine.” He insisted, trying his best to stand as straight as possible while holding the cloth to his side. “It was already a fucking miracle you didn’t bleed out while you waited for the stupid platform to descend. You still wanna tempt fate?” You asked, staring at the white cloth that you had brought him slowly turn into a crimson-red cloth. “I don’t- can’t you bring the supplies needed to treat me here? Or?” Miguel trailed off, noticing the glare on your face. 
   He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat before he sat down begrudgingly onto the wheelchair. 
  =====
   Miguel’s face burned in embarrassment while he sat in the wheelchair. His face was almost as red as the bloodied cloth that he was still holding to his side. Judgemental glances were passed around any of the rooms that he passed while you pushed him in the wheelchair. He did try to gauge your reaction but all he noticed was your very tight grip on his wheelchair and scowl on your face. Maybe Lyla was right, you were turning out to be a grump like him. 
   “Everyone saw that right?” Pavitr’s choked on the fries he was eating, as he watched you push an injured Miguel on a wheelchair. “I- I don’t think I can take him seriously again.” Gwen found it hilarious to see Miguel in a wheelchair acting like a pouty child that had just been scolded but it was also combined with the shock and disbelief of seeing the usual stoic leader sitting in a wheelchair. “Heh, I knew he was scared of her,” Peter remarked. Pavitr and Gwen turned to look at Peter, “Hey, when she’s angry, she’s a force to be reckoned with.” He spoke in experience although Peter will never tell anyone what he did to piss you off. For now, he could only pray that Miguel doesn’t get burned in the flames of your anger.     “I’ll help!” A medic immediately came forward when you entered the med bay. Miguel stared intently at you, you sighed, he had only came on one condition. That you were the one to patch him up, you couldn’t even wash your hands off Miguel O’Hara if you wanted to. “No.” You simply said before pushing him off to a private ward. 
   “Lie down.” You instructed. Miguel did as you told, turning his head so he can watch you put on the gloves and your usual white lab coat you wore when you helped out in the med-bay. 
“Dizziness, anything yet?” You asked, the anger in your tone has simmered but is not fully gone. He recognized the tone, it was a professional tone of a doctor. “Um no-?” He frowned, “I already told you- I’m fine-” Miguel stopped again when you took the bloodied cloth from him and his suit immediately covered his skin back up. “Remove the fucking projection O’hara.” You cursed, taking the resources you needed. “You know I’m-” “Just the top.” You answered, pinching the bridge of your nose. Miguel’s suit slowly revealed his skin to you and you had to take a breath. You always forgot that he literally had muscles that seemed to be sculpted by a skilled clay artist. 
  You heartlessly sprayed the alcohol into his wound to sanitize it. Miguel’s muscles tightened as he groaned, arching his back ever so slightly at the burn. “You weren’t gonna give me a heads up?” He gritted out through clenched teeth. “I thought you would prefer to get it over with.” You stated plainly, hiding the intention that you wanted to get back at him for acting like a child.”Can’t you be more gentle?” He complained when you did your work. You gave him an annoyed look, “I could knock you out.” You suggested. “That may help.” He looked over to you, trying his best to hold back his pained grunts. “I will actually knock you out with my hands to get a few moments of silence.” Miguel remained silent as his fists clenched by his side. 
   Your fingers traced against one of his old injuries, staring at the abomination of messily done stitches you were sure Miguel stubbornly did on himself. “Fucking hell.” You cursed out loud. “I ran out of drugs” He replied sheepishly, the drug he relied on to help him close the wound instead of stitching a would hold traditionally. “You didn’t think to- I don’t know, visit the Med-bay? In the very headquarters, you set up?” You asked sarcastically.
  “It turned out fine,” Miguel argued. “Yeah? And you’re already on the verge of ripping the stitches out yourself.” You snarked. “I don’t even want to know how you managed to angle yourself to stitch this up” Your head pounded with a headache while you redid his stitches. 
  Miguel O’Hara was a constant headache you couldn’t get rid of. 
 ========
   When Miguel finally got back to the comfort of his office. He sighed in relief having argued with you about resting in his office instead of the Medbay. “Lyla!” You called out, Miguel still in the wheelchair in front of you. “Yes!” She appeared before you, chuckling at the sight of Miguel. “No missions for two weeks. And make sure he’s in bed by 10pm” you instructed. Miguel clicked his tongue in annoyance as he climbed back into his office chair while Lyla reassured you that she will keep a close eye on Miguel and will inform you if he misbehaved. 
   When you turned to leave, he held onto your wrist. His grip was firm but not tight enough to hurt you. He suddenly soothed the crease in between your eyebrows when you frowned. You looked at him in disbelief. What the hell is he up to now? “You look prettier without the frown.” He simply said with a soft look. “Are the drugs kicking in?” You asked, still taken aback at his sudden actions. Miguel cursed internally at himself, did he just attempt to flirt? He was way too rusty when it came to this.  
   “Are you mad at me?” He asked with a soft tone. You closed your eyes, “Just-rest, and leave me alone.” You sighed. “Are you mad at me?” He repeated again, this time with the usual authority in his voice. The tone he used with the other Spidermen. You looked up at him, he didn’t scare you anymore. 
   “Are you blushing?” You pointed out the pink tint on his cheeks. His eyes widened, “Vasodilation is common when you’re injured no?” He made up an excuse. Miguel smirked lightly when he saw the ends of your lips quirk up slightly. “Sure…” you said, not pushing him further. Even if he wished you did. 
   “Big boss!” Miguel groaned at Hobie’s voice. 
   You naturally smiled at Hobie as you returned the two-finger sauté he gave to you in greeting. Miguel noticed it of course, how easily your frown went away when you saw Hobie. “Oh, you left your jumper at my place dear.” Hobie reminded while you walked out. “Shit man, I’ll swing around soon for it. It’s my favorite.” You laughed. Hobie grinned, “I know it is. Even took the liberty to wash it for ya.” 
   When you left, let’s just say Hobie got the brunt of Miguel’s temper. 
======
   “Miguel!” You called out to him upon entering his office. “Yes, I am not moving around Lyla,” Miguel replied mindlessly. You laughed, in a much better mood than last week. “I’m glad to hear that Miguel!” Miguel’s head turned at record speed, his eyes widening at the sight of you, and how the usual smile you always had seemed to have made its way back onto your face, replacing the frown that you wore last week. 
   Miguel, he missed hearing his name fall from your lips. Miguel turned in his seat, “Are you feeling better?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He chuckled lightly, pressing on the screens before him. “I’m fine. Like I have always told you.” He replied, his eyes scanning your frame.
   Miguel noticed the jumper you wore over your spider suit. He also knew that it was the jumper you always wore, and it may just be the jumper that Hobie mentioned last week. “Why the long face?Mad that you’re stuck indoors?” You asked with a teasing grin. Miguel let out a huff, “You need to focus on the missions.” He stated sternly. “Am I not?” You frowned, you were pretty sure you were on track on your missions. Miguel simply shot you a glance over his broad shoulders, “I don’t think any of the missions require you to go to Hobie’s dimension does it?” He questioned with his eyebrows raised in suspicion. “What I do in between missions is none of your business Miguel.” You folded your arms over your chest in defense. Miguel tried his best to pretend that those words didn’t bruise him by busying himself with the orange screens in front of him. 
  “Is that jealousy I sense?” Lyla popped out of thin air, teasing Miguel.
 “There’s no rule stating that a Spiderman aren’t allowed to go over to other spidermen dimensions right?” 
   “I thought it was an unspoken rule,” Miguel replied, he knew about how many of the spidermen tend to travel to other dimensions for the fun of it. He understood that his headquarters served as a place of social hangout for the Spidermen and that many of them have formed friendships with each other, meaning that they spent time together in different dimensions outside of missions. He couldn’t bring himself to make it a strict rule that traveling to different dimensions was prohibited. However, it was known to be heavily discouraged and that spidermen would take responsibility for any consequences. 
   “I’m sorry.” you apologized, pushing yourself off the wall you were leaning on. Miguel closed his eyes, trying to erase the guilt he felt upon seeing the look on your face. You approached him upon seeing that his platform has finally descended. A smirk tugged on your lips as you pulled the wheelchair that was on the platform in front of his chair. 
   “I made sure he will only move around in that wheelchair and that was enough to keep him in here.” Lyla proudly announced. You bit back a smile at the pink tint across Miguel's cheeks. “I don’t think they will ever get over it.” You laughed, the cafeteria still buzzed with the news upon seeing their boss in a wheelchair. 
   Miguel was wearing a black t-shirt instead of his usual suit. Miguel naturally lifted up his black shirt for you. “It looks good.” You simply commented, trying your best to not blush at the sight of his body. “It better be.” Miguel snarled. “Then I guess I’m off work early today!” You celebrated, grinning as you pulled his shirt down, your fingertips gracing his muscles ever so slightly. 
   A look of disappointment flashed across Miguel’s face. You didn’t notice but Lyla did. “Just ask her already.” Lyla rolled her eyes. “Ask me what?” You immediately asked, A curious glint in your eye. Miguel waved his hands frantically trying to shoo Lyla away. “Nothing.” He says. 
  Lyla groans as she appears on the other side of Miguel. “He’s been dying to find out “ Miguel swatted her hologram away, “Are you and Hobie a thing?” Lyla finally forced out. Miguel’s shoulders slumped in defeat while silence filled the office. 
   The silence only filled the office for a few moments that lasted way too long in Miguel’s opinion before you burst into laughter. “Me and Hobie?-” Miguel has never felt more embarrassed than now as you kept on laughing at the fact that Miguel thought that Hobie and you were dating. “It’s none of my business.” Miguel cleared his throat. “Why did you even think that?” You questioned, trying your best to hold back your laughter. “Well, he makes you smile and laugh.” 
  “Miguel, I laugh and smile at anything.” You deadpanned. “He just seems to be able to make you happy even when you’re down,” Miguel stated plainly. “You know? Because you smiled at Hobie despite being grumpy the whole of last week?” Lyla reminded, getting impatient with the pace of the conversation. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you realised what Miguel meant. “Oh, that’s because I was mad at you and not him.” You said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I was right, you were mad at me.” You nodded. “Can I finally know why?” Miguel’s eyes were boring into yours. You leaned back against the wheelchair, turning your head as you sighed. 
   “Because I was fucking worried Miguel.” You rubbed your nose with your knuckles. It was a nervous habit of yours. “You were getting injured left and right and then you work non-stop to finish up on the reports. To make matters worse, you even head out for more missions afterward and refuse to let anyone help you. You’re not a fucking machine Miguel, you need the rest.” Miguel’s eyes widened, he never knew that his unhealthy work habits were noticed by you. He kept quiet until you finally met his eyes. “I’m sorry cariño.” Miguel muttered, “I didn’t mean to make you worried.” He says while his hand gently caresses your knee. 
   A mischievous glint lit up in his eyes. “No, no. I don’t know what you’re thinking but no.” You immediately recognized that look in his eyes. He chuckled lightly, glancing over to Lyla for moral support. Lyla jumped with poms-poms in her hands, egging him on like a cheerleader. “I’ll rest even better and for a longer period of time. Under one condition.” He proposed. You raised your eyebrows at him in question. 
   “You go out on a date with me.” There, he finally asked you out. 
    Your eyes widened and your hand immediately went to cover your face in an attempt to hide the blush that was creeping onto your cheeks. The wheelchair you were sitting on slowly rolled backward in your shock. Miguel chuckled, stopping the wheelchair right before it rolls away from him. “You can’t leave me hanging like this cariño.” 
   “Stop with the cariño, I can’t think properly when you call me that.” You answered flusteredly. Miguel smirked, “And why is that?” You wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face so badly. 
    “Fine, Ok! I’ll go out with you!” You shouted, standing up abruptly from the wheelchair. Your ears were turning red from how flustered you were. The sound of fireworks filled the office thanks to Lyla while you walked out. Miguel trying his best to not laugh at how flustered you were. “See you at 8pm this evening!” He shouted after you just as you walked out in utter embarrassment. 
----
Bonus: "Miguel will kill you." Gwen stated. The group was gathered around a picture that Hobie was holding, a picture of Miguel O'hara himself pouting while sitting in a wheelchair. "He won't" Hobie shrugged confidently. "Not when the photo is taken by" Hobie gestures to you, bouncing on your feet nervously while you waited for your coffee to be served. "They went on a date?" Peter exclaimed in surprise, Hobie gave him a confirming nod.
"Who on earth started this," Miguel sighed, getting more and more irritated by the second while staring at the noticeboard that was in the cafeteria. You simply laughed at the title. "What is big boss up to this week?" Below it was pictures of Miguel in a wheelchair, him sitting in his office in comfortable clothes and the last picture was a picture of him in a formal western suit with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. The same bouquet that was in a flower pot in your house now.
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sprout-fics · 1 year
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This is one of my nastier thoughts-
Hide and seek gangbang. Reader (bottom) hides somewhere on base and the first one to find her gets to fuck her while everyone else watches (or joins in 👀)
This was so much fun, I may have to do a matching one for Price and Gaz!
“Ohh songbird…”
You feel your heart hammer against the cage of your ribs, hands planted across your face to prevent even a single sound from escaping at the tenor of Johnny’s voice floating through the unused warehouse, sing-song, teasing, hungry.
It’s been the better part of an hour since you were chased in here, sneaking through the dusty aisles of upended crates and empty shelves. The flickering dimness of this space seems to only add to the rapid thump of your heartbeat, muscles coiled in preparation to run, to flee should you be discovered.
“I know you’re in here.”
He’s close. Too close. You can hear his footsteps from where you press yourself inside the shadows of a doorway, his heavy boots a purposeful, slow echo throughout the empty space. It’s almost like he wants you to know exactly where he is, advertises his presence with every noise. What his strategy is, you aren’t sure, but you’re certain that if he gets any close he’ll find you for sure, claim his prize only to set you free once more.
“Come out come out, wherever ye are…” He chuckles, and you rise slowly from where you crouch, tip-toe to the door and see the profile of him vanish just beyond the edge of the hallway. It gives you the chance you need, and you quickly but quietly move down the other direction, keeping eyes on where he’s disappeared to. 
Yet then your foot crunches against something fragile and you freeze, hear his pleased little noise of realization a split second before you bolt, shoes hitting the floor harshly as you sprint away from the sound of his pursuit. 
“There you are!” Johnny calls gleefully from behind you, and christ- how did he close the distance so fast?!
You skid around the next corner, nearly stumble, and launch yourself forward past a darkened doorway yawning into a pitch black room-
Skeletal hands reach out, snatch you mid-step and drag you backwards. You yell from behind the palm covering your mouth, adrenaline spiking in your blood and trying to thrash away from Ghost as he hauls you further into the darkness. 
“Caught you.” He murmurs in your ear as your hands are dragged behind him, back flush with the rigid surface of his tac vest. It sends a jolt of something through you, dark and thrilling as he overwhelms you with his adamantium strength, smears charcoal across the inside of your skull with his mere presence. 
It only grows when the zip-ties fasten around your wrists, and you again try to squirm free with no success. 
“You’re a fast little bugger.” Johnny pants as he leans on the doorway, his gloved fist planted on the frame. Yet his eyes dance with delight as he witnesses you caught in Ghost’s grasp, dragging his lip between his teeth at the conflict of outrage and desire in your gaze. 
“Hells bells.” The Scotsman breathes, and he steps forward, his hand falling to the bulge in his pants, which he idly strokes through his pants. Yet then his eyes catch that of Ghost’s behind you and he grins, untamed and starved. “Teamwork makes the dream work, eh LT?”
You fuckers.
“Get in here Johnny.” Ghost offers instead, and you clamp your thighs together as his hand abruptly descends into your pants, your wetness soaking through his gloved fingertips. 
“Looks like our pet likes to be chased.” He observes, and if you didn’t know him better you’d swear he sounds detached, playing the villain. It only ratchets the excitement inside you higher, and you answer it with a muffled yell that only summons a chuckle from the sergeant before you, now pressing against your front and sandwiching you between the two men. 
“Tough luck, us finding you first.” He tuts, and his hand raises your shirt and presses flat against the softness of your stomach appreciatively, suggestively. “Won’t be much left for Price and Gaz once we’re done with you, hen.”
You stare defiantly up at him, and it only seems to please Johnny, who’s eyes dance bright in the dimness and his fingers rise to tug a nipple. It makes you falter for a moment, the sudden sharp sensation making your expression shift into something wanting, a little mewl escaping you at the pleasure that rises inside you between his fingers and Ghost’s digits stroking against your folds. 
“Fuck, we’re going to ruin you.” He promises, and Ghost hums a dark, pleased assent in response. “Fill you up and send you scampering so the others can hunt you down and have their fun too, aye?”
Ghost presses down on your clit and you mewl, nod frantically in an effort to get them to really touch you, giving into temptation and erasing this farce of pursuit that’s led you here. Ghost notices and huffs a laugh, low and dark in your ear. 
“So needy, pet.” He murmurs, and you shift so you can grind yourself down onto his hand, eyes fluttering as it stokes the pleasure burning inside you. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.” Johnny promises, and gently pulls Simon’s gloved hand away, tilts your head so his lips descend to meet your own. “Just need to ask us for it.”
You consider escape once more, but between Johnny’s decadent touch and Ghost’s unyielding grasp, you find yourself with few other places you want to be. 
You surrender, gasp out your reply in a wanting sigh that spills across his tongue. 
“Please.”
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cevansbrat0007 · 2 months
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There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?
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What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?
Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.
Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief. 
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later. 
It was officially time for a reread. 
Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.
Eventually.   
Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie 
So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers. 
Fingers crossed.
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Later that Evening…
The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts. 
“Bird?” 
The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter. 
His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels. 
“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.
“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin. 
Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more. 
“Oh baby, I love.” 
Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this. 
You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.    
“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”
“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”
“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt. 
“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.
The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall. 
However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.
“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp. 
“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.
“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner. 
‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’ 
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Fifteen Minutes Later…
You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.
“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”
Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal. 
Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.       
This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.
Or so you assumed, anyway.
“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”
“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate. 
“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.      
“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.
Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…
You wait. 
It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.
“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.  
“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”
“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.
“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”
“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.
“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin. 
“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.  
“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”
You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.  
“Thank you, Ari.” 
“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. “I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.” 
And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was. 
“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”
Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.  
“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”
“Why?” 
Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you
“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”
“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”
Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.  
“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down. 
But your man’s not done yet. 
You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.
Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more. 
“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.” 
Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words. 
“Ari, wait.” 
“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”
“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs  now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”
“Great. So how about you –”
“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”
Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said. 
“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.
“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”
“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?” 
“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”
“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”
“I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”
“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”
“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.” 
You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act. 
“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”
“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”
“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves. 
“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.
“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw. 
“I suppose that’s fair.” 
“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.
“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns. 
“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.
Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking. 
“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”
“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.” 
Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?
“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”
“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily. 
“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”
END
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538 notes · View notes
thatacotargirl · 12 days
Note
Hiiiii I love your writing!! May I request Azriel x Reader, where reader gets amnesia. She’s Illyrian and was hurt by Illyrian men, so she’s scared of Az because she doesn’t remember him. Then wonderful angst because he never thought she’d be afraid of him, so he avoids her and is heartbroken. Then something happens, maybe he’s forced to interact with her or he says something specific, and her memories come back, so happy ending! Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to write this, thank you!💙
Hi lovely! Thank you so much for reading my work and for your request! I hope you like the story! 💙
Divider is once again from @tsunami-of-tears, eternally grateful to you for your creativity!
Dazelroot Daze
An Azriel x Reader imagine
Warnings: angst, poisoning, swearing, allusions to abuse / previous SA.
"Rhys, I am not cut out for this kind of mission - why did you not send Nesta!"
You huff to yourself as you climb the uneven stairs through the prison, following closely behind Rhys. You hated coming in here, and hated having to interact with the Bone Carver even more. You patted your back pocket, checking your gifted bone for him was still there, before climbing yet another stairwell.
"Y/n, you know I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't necessary. I can't exactly send Nesta in here even if she's only early in her pregnancy, they would sense it a mile off and she'd be a target. Not to mention, I don't fancy getting pummelled by Cassian for letting his pregnant mate in here".
You knew he was right, but it didn't make this any easier. You struggled through another narrow doorframe, trying to avoid smacking your wings against the wood, and stood in front of a metal gate. You hear Rhys hum to himself.
"What's wrong?".
"I've never seen a gate here before, this should be an open walkway".
You begin to feel uneasy as you see Rhys take a step back.
"Rhys?"
Before you can get another word out, you feel a powder cover your face, filling your nose and mouth, causing you to choke. You try to call out for help, but you can't get anything out, breathing becoming harder and harder. You hear Rhys distantly calling your name but you can't respond, can't move, all you can do is drop to the floor, your legs giving out from underneath you.
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"Get Madja, now!"
Rhys' voice bellowed through the River House as he winnowed in carrying your lifeless body and placed your down on the living room sofa. The rest of the Inner Circle descended on the pair of you, including Azriel. When he saw your pale body, arm hanging off the sofa, his heart sank. He grabbed Rhys by the collar.
"What the fuck happened?"
Rhys didn't have time to answer before Madja appeared in the room, pushing everyone to the side and leaning over your body. Silence descended on the room as she ran tests, took bloods, checked your vitals - all the while your eyes remained closed and your body limp.
"She has been poisoned with a plant known as Dazelroot. It is highly toxic and can only be found in some very remote parts of the Spring Court. Thankfully, it looks like this particular strain was either incorrectly handled or extremely dried out, as it hasn't taken hold quite as potently as it should have. She will be ok, in that she will live, but we won't know the consequences until she wakes up".
"The consequences?", Feyre asks.
"I have never seen a person be poisoned with Dazelroot and live to tell the tale. We won't know what it will do to her until she wakes".
Feyre sobbed silently, her shoulders shaking. Nesta joined her, the sisters holding each other through their sadness. Cassian could only watch in horror as Azriel fell to his knees next to your body and cried into your shoulder.
"Madja, what can we do?", Rhys asks, wringing his hands.
"There's nothing, Rhys. We have to let her wake, and see what happens next. I'll be on hand, as will my assistants. Call us as soon as she wakes up".
Rhys shook Madja's hand and allowed her to leave, his grief weighing down on his shoulders heavily. It was his fault that you were in the prison, that he hadn't seen the trap beforehand, that you were the one to be poisoned. He tried to reach for Azriel, but Azriel swatted his hand away.
"Don't touch me", he gritted, his face still buried in your shoulder.
Rhys could do nothing but watch as his family fell apart in front of him.
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It took 6 days for you to wake. 6 agonising days of your family watching your chest rise and fall, terrified that you would never again open your eyes. But you did.
Your eyes opened, and fell on Feyre's face.
"SHE'S AWAKE", Feyre called to your family, reaching out for your hand. You let her take it, but she couldn't overlook the confusion she saw in your eyes, the hesitancy of your body to let her touch you.
The room filled with your family and your eyes settled on a pair of Illyrian wings. Male Illyrian wings. Trauma racked through your body, memories of your life at the Illyrian camps, wing-clipping, assault, and you couldn't hold back your scream as you pulled your body up the bed, as close as you could get to the headboard.
"Y/n?", Azriel said gently, attempting to approach you. He froze when he realised it was him that you were trying to get away from.
Madja burst through the door at that moment, having been summoned by Rhys the moment he heard Feyre's shouts. She saw the blankness in your eyes the second she looked at you, and her eyes fell pityingly to Azriel.
"Hi y/n, I'm Madja, a healer here in the Night Court".
Your family looked at each other in pure confusion. You knew who Madja was. She'd been the family's healer for centuries. Why was she acting like you'd never met before?
Madja carried out her assessment before providing you a sleeping tonic. Once your body settled back into the pillows, looking more at peace than you had when you had woken up, she turned to Rhys.
"The Dazelroot has caused amnesia. She doesn't remember anything after her life after the Illyrian camps".
Rhys shook his head. "Ok, but when will her memory come back?".
Rhys saw the look on Madja's face and his stomach somersaulted.
"Will her memory come back?"
Madja placed a hand gentle on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry Rhys, there's no way to know".
She turned to Azriel, tears falling down his cheeks. He had realised that you had forgotten him, forgotten your mateship, the love you had shared for centuries. You only remembered the trauma you had faced at the hands of Illyrian males, males that bore the same wings as him. He had realised, seeing the look on your face, that you were afraid of him.
"You can try to offer her gentle reminders. It might break through the amnesia cloud. But there's nothing more we can do".
Madja departed, leaving your family to process the news. You didn't remember any of them.
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17 months later
It had been 17 months since the incident, and your memory hadn't come back.
Feyre, Nesta, Elain and Mor had made it their mission to rebuild the friendship that you had had with them - regularly taking you out for brunch, shopping, and nights out at Rita's. Over time, you developed a new bond with them, and had started to trust them.
You had also re-kindled your friendship with Rhys and Lucien, the males giving you distance but engaging with you as often as possible, mostly through Feyre and Elain.
But Azriel and Cassian, you couldn't be near. Their wings reminded you too much of the trauma you had faced in the camps. Reminded you that your own wings had been clipped. Reminded you of the males that had used you for their own entertainment. Anytime they tried to approach you, their wings pinned as tightly as possible behind their backs, your body began to involuntarily shake and your eyes would fill with tears.
It had broken Azriel. He had become a shell of the former male he was. He started to withdraw from family dinners, he gave up his morning training. Azriel had slowly started to descend into a downward spiral, feeling the mating bond cold on the other end. His family had tried their best to help, but Azriel wanted for nothing but you. He locked himself in his bedroom most days and nights, seeking solitude in the shadows.
That was why, when his family decided to visit Sevenda's restaurant that evening, Azriel had ignored the inviting knock on his door. He didn't want to make it harder for you seeing him sitting at the other end of the table. He waited for the footsteps to pad away before grabbing a bottle of Whiskey from the shelf and pouring himself a generous glass.
-
Several hours later, Azriel was sat in bed with his book when he heard commotion. It sounded like crying, but it was pained. He sat up, listening out, when he heard it again - this time closer to his door. He thought everyone was out at Sevenda's, or maybe Rita's now, but there was unmistakably someone wandering through the hallway.
Azriel cracked open his door and peered out. At the end of the hallway, gripping the window pane, he saw your small frame huddled over. The scent of blood filled the air. Azriel panicked. He knew how bad your cycles were from the centuries you had spent together, that you needed help desperately, but right now he was the only one in the house with you, and you were terrified of him.
"Y/n?", he called out gently, trying not to startle you with his presence. He watched you turn slowly, your eyes wide in alarm.
"It's ok, it's just your cycle", he whispered, raising his arms to show you that he was not going to hurt you. You whimpered slightly, clutching the window pane so hard your knuckles had gone white.
"Can I help you?", he asked, not daring to move. You looked at him, his wings, your body shaking. But you knew you were helpless, not sure you could get yourself back to your bed even if you tried with all your might. So, you took a deep breath, and gave him a timid nod.
Azriel walked slowly towards you, his hands in front of him, and when he reached you he carefully put a hand forward to touch your shoulder. You shuddered, but didn't pull away.
"I'm going to take you back to your room, ok?". You could only nod as Azriel scooped you into his arms and walked you slowly back towards your room.
He placed you down carefully at your dressing table and silently walked into your bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. Whilst the bath ran, you watched him strip the soiled sheets from your bed and replace them with fresh ones, putting a pair of your pyjamas neatly folded at the end. He then offered you his hand and guided you to the bathroom.
"Do you need some help?".
You didn't want to admit it, but you did. You could barely stand up under your own weight.
Azriel turned away from you to allow you to undress, holding a hand behind his back for guidance as you carefully lowered yourself into the bath. Once you were in, and hidden under the bubbles, you turned to look at him. At his wings. You had never known an Illyrian male to be so gentle. So calming. Even sat here alone in a bath with him in the room, you felt comfortable. You felt safe.
"Azriel?", you whispered.
"Would you like me to leave you be?" he asked, his back still turned to give you privacy.
"No".
You saw Azriel's shoulders sag slightly with relief, but he still kept his back to you.
"Please could you pass me that bottle over there, the green one?"
Azriel walked over to the counter to pick up the shampoo bottle and attempted to hand it to you behind his back, still not facing you. You giggled as he offered the bottle out to the empty end of the bath.
"It's ok, I'm hidden in the bubbles".
Azriel turned, his eyes not leaving your face, as he handed the bottle to you. You took it, pouring some into your hand, and he watched you wince as you raised your arms above your body to your hair, stretching your stomach.
"May I?", he asked quietly. You nodded, handing the bottle to him. Azriel knelt down behind your head, pouring the shampoo into his hands and massaging it into your hair. The moment his hands touched you, you felt a calming peace descend over you, and you closed your eyes to bask in it. You were about to ask him to rub it into the nape of your neck, your favourite place, when you felt his hands move there instinctively. A jolt went through your body, and Azriel jumped backwards.
"Are you ok?"
You turned to face him, his leathers covered in water, bubbles and shampoo suds, and looked down at his scarred hands. Visions flew through your mind of his hands in your hair, his hands offering to feed you grapes on your honeymoon to the Summer Court, his hands touching your body, his hands placing a ring on yours at your mating ceremony, his hands holding out your cup of coffee to you every morning - black, just how you liked it.
You reached out to take them, feeling every emotion come flooding back to you. A tug at your chest made you look up, as Azriel's filled with tears.
"My mate", you whispered.
"My mate", he replied, his head moving to rest on your forehead.
You held each other, the bath water turning cold and the bubbles melting away, allowing all your love and devotion to flow to each other through the bond. Forgotten, but never gone.
535 notes · View notes
girlrotterr · 1 month
Text
But I'm a Lesbian! pt.4
ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: Hellooo angels!! so sorry for the wait!! writers' block has been hitting me wayy too hard. I might break everything into smaller parts to release chapters more frequently, so expect shorter chapters!
→ Part one! → Part two! → Part three! → Part five!
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"Got your cigs!” 
With a swift motion, Dina tossed the pack across the room, aiming for Ellie’s bed but missing. The box made contact with Ellie's face with a resounding thud, prompting a groan of pain from her.
"Ow!! What the fuck?" Ellie gtoaned, rubbing her sore cheek.
Dina rolled her eyes, settling herself on your bed with a snack in hand. The room was now dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a small desk lamp in the corner.
You laid on your bed, staring up at the ceiling.  Meanwhile, Ellie was reclined on her stomach with an ice pack on her ass. Abby sat perched on the edge of Ellie's bed, eyeing the cigarettes.
"Pass me one," Abby requested, gesturing towards Ellie.
Ellie, cigarette already between her lips, shook her head. "No."
"Aw, come onn," Abby urged, throwing her head back in frustration.
Ellie remained firm, clutching the box. "Get your own."
Abby reached for a cigarette, but Ellie swiftly slapped her hand away. "Dude!"
"One won't hurt!" Abby argued, her tone becoming more insistent.
Ellie's grip tightened on the cigarette box. "fuck off."
Growing impatient, Abby's hand hovered menacingly over Ellie's bruised ass. "I swear, Ellie, I'll do it."
Ellie shot a warning glance over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing at the threat.  She began to squirm, trying to avoid Abby's hand. "I fucking said no!"
Dina couldn't help but snicker. "Come onn,  just give her one."
"Your last chance el’s." Abby persisted, her hand slowly lowering towards ellie’s ass. 
"Seriously, Abby," Ellie cautioned, “Don’t fucking do it."
Suddenly, Abby's hand descended forcefully, delivering a sharp and stinging slap. Ellie couldn't help but let out a yelp of pain, her body tensing at the sudden impact.
With a smirk playing on her lips, Abby swiftly grabbed Ellie's legs and pulled them towards her, snatching the cigarette box from her grasp. With a satisfied grin, she retrieved one and lit it up, enjoying her victory.
"Damnn," dina remarked with a grin
Ellie shot Abby a glare, rubbing her stinging ass cheek, while Abby leaned back with a satisfied expression, puffing on her cigarette.
Suddenly, you were starting to feel overwhelmed. Panic began to bubble up inside you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this place was too chaotic, too unpredictable.
"I-I..need to get out of here," you muttered, your voice trembling with anxiety. "This place is fucking crazy! Everyone's just...a bunch of horny, depraved lesbians!"
Abby snapped her fingers in front of you, "woah, woah, woah! I am NOT depraved," 
“Me neither!” Dina chimed in with a smirk. “I fingered a girl on Ellie’s bed last month!”
Ellie's expression shifted to one of disbelief. "Dude, what the hell!?" she exclaimed.
With a cheeky smile, Dina shrugged. “You didn’t even notice the squirt stain,” she teased.
Ellie let out a disgusted groan, burying her face in her hands.
"Come on, give me a break," Dina snickered. "It was the most action your bed had seen in months."
As You continued to pace, your mind raced with thoughts of escape and confusion. "This is insane," you muttered, running your hand through your hair. “It’s only my first night here! How the actual fuck has so much shit happened?!” 
Dina walked towards you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, hey, calm down," she said soothingly, trying to steady your frantic pacing. "It's not that bad here."
You gestured to your nose, which was still sore from the earlier. " how the fuck am I supposed to eat someone out with a broken nose?!" you exclaimed, “I can’t even have a little action out here!” 
Abby let out a chuckle "I'm sure we can find a way to work around it," she said smirkingly. 
You scoffed walking towards her, swiftly taking the cigarette from her grasp and inhaling deeply. Taking a long drag, you felt a bit calmer as the smoke filled your lungs. Sitting down, your leg bounced anxiously as you tried to calm your nerves. 
Ellie, still recovering from the slap on her ass, sat up with a wince of pain. She placed a comforting hand on your back, offering a soothing gesture. "Hey, if…”  she suggested. "If you help us steal our stuff back...we'll help you escape." 
Her words sparked a glimmer of hope in your mind, a potential solution to your growing unease. You nodded slowly, considering the offer. 
Ellie leaned forward, her eyes gleaming “We'll wait until late at night when everyone's asleep. Then, we'll sneak into the director's office, find our confiscated items, and make a run for it. Simplee"
Abby let out a scoff, shaking her head in disbelief. "That's your plan? Sneak into the director's office like a bunch of amateurs and hope for the best? No way."
Ellie's brows furrowed. "What's your fucking plan, then?"
Abby flashed a confident grin. "We need to create a distraction. Something big enough to draw everyone's attention away from us"
You perked up, intrigued by Abby's suggestion. "But what kind of distraction?"
Abby's smirk widened. "How about a fire? We start a small one in the courtyard, nothing too serious, just enough to set off the alarms and send everyone into a panic. While they're busy dealing with that, we slip away unnoticed."
Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Too damn risky. What if it gets out of control?"
Abby waved off her concerns. "We'll make sure it's under control. Trust me, it'll work.”
"Okay, that solves the sneaking issue," you said, contemplating the plan. "But what about my escape?"
Dina's eyes lit up with excitement. "You can steal the director's car!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "That way, she won't be able to chase after you."
You raised an eyebrow at Dina's suggestion. "Steal the director's car? Are you serious?"
Dina nodded. "duhh!"
"But how do I even get the keys?" you asked.
Abby smirked, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Leave that to me."
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sungbeam · 3 months
Text
𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬
jeong yunho x gn!reader
1.1k words, friends 2 friends who cuddle ?, one bed trope, fluff, humor, like two swear words cuz who am i without cursing, snuggling, consequences of yunho being Tall (implied that reader is shorter than yunho)
a/n: im sorry that this kinda sucks ass but yeah,, one bed trope :')
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“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I'm going to hate this,” Jeong Yunho swore as his head poked up into the attic space, eyes wide in horror.
When the inn owners said that the attic was hardly an attic, they unfortunately were not exaggerating. It was close to a crawl space, with just enough room for you to stand up straight, and outfitted with an extra long twin bed, nightstand and lamp, a pillow, and two large sherpa wool blankets. The bed was fitted beneath the slope of the roof because the entire space wasn't even large enough to put the bed in the middle.
You were starting to sweat, and considering there wasn't even heating up here, you raced to calm your nerves. “It'll be fine,” you said with a small, anxious laugh.
Yunho moved his terrified eyes up to you. “Respectfully? I'm gonna go sleep in the storm.”
When he moved to descend the ladder, you slid on your knees to grab hold of his wrist. “Come on, big guy. It's one night.”
“Yn, what if I said I was claustrophobic, huh?” He whined, but reluctantly followed you all the way up the ladder and into the attic. He straightened—big mistake. You heard the loud thump as his head met the roof, and grimaced. “Oooow!”
You hissed and reached over to gently rub the place that began to smart when he leaned down. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he whimpered. “Can I sleep in the lobby?”
Around ten minutes later, after many trials and tribulations and head bonks, you and Yunho somehow transferred your duffle bags up the ladder and into your glorified crawl space. They took up the space just beside the ladder and at the foot of the bed, and as you stared at said twin bed, you wondered if Yunho's legs would even fit on it.
Most likely not.
In fact, you were certain that two people couldn't even fit on the bed unless they were either on top of each other or packed together like sardines.
You reminded yourself that it was only going to be one night. This was what the two of you got for leaving five hours after everyone else, just to get caught in tonight's awful storm and stuck with the only “room” available for miles. In retrospect, it was your fault. Yunho had been generous enough in offering to stay behind with you until you finished your last exam.
“You can have the bed,” you told him as you were both crouched by your bags to grab clothes to sleep in. Despite your realization about your counterpart's long limbs and the bed's shortcomings, you wanted to extend an offer of chivalry.
Yunho twisted around and sent you an incredulous look. “What?”
“You drove us up here,” you replied with a shrug. You swiftly draped your sleep clothes over one arm and gathered your bag of toiletries in the other. “And you waited for me to finish my exam and you're kinda being dealt the short end of the stick with this room.”
He sat down on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, and though his face was still pulled into the same expression, he laughed. “Yn, I hate to break it to you, but I think you're gonna fit better on that bed than I will.”
You pursed your lips, gazing over at the narrow slot on the floor between the other sloping roof and the bed. That was the only other place someone could sleep in this room. “I don't want you to sleep on the floor though.”
“I know I was complaining, but don't worry about it,” he reassured as he turned back to dig through his duffle. He flicked his wrist blindly in your direction. “You can wash up first; I'll set everything up.”
Since he left little to no room for argument, you resolved to do as he suggested. There was a community washroom on the floor below that you made your way toward. As unfortunate as your accommodation was for the night, you were eager to head back up and go to sleep. Yours and Yunho's friends were all waiting at Seonghwa's cabin already, and perhaps it wasn't just exhaustion that made you antsy for this night to get a move on.
You and Yunho just needed to get through tonight. It would be fine.
When you returned to the attic crawl space, Yunho had everything set up as he said he would. He'd found an extra set of sheets from one of the downstairs closets and laid it on the ground by the bed, then rationed one of the blankets for himself and the other for you on the bed.
You let out a tired sigh and trudged over to the bed to grab the pillow from where it rested on the headboard. You set the pillow instead at the head of Yunho's sleeping situation, then balled up one of your jackets to use as your own pillow. Once satisfied, you climbed into bed, and you were out like a light.
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Everything was hazy as you emerged from deep sleep to confused half-consciousness. The room was descended into darkness, the sounds of light rain drumming steadily against the sloped rooftop above your head. Your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton—why had you suddenly woken up?
Then you heard it.
“Achoo.” Then another one. And another one.
Even half dead, your brain could put two and two together. You rolled over slightly to wave your arm over the side of the bed, hand flapping around until you bumped Yunho's shoulder. “Hey, Yunho.”
Another sneeze.
“Yun, get your butt up here.”
He grunted. “'m fine.”
“You're gonna get sick,” you grumbled with your face half squished against your jacket zipper. That was definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. “Come up here, for fuck's sake.”
He made another noise, perhaps of acknowledgment, before you heard sounds of movement.
You kept your eyes half-lidded to keep as much light out as possible, and rolled over again. As he crawled onto his knees, and then his feet, you opened up your blanket to him so he could join you.
“Pillow,” he slurred—you whined when it hit you in the face. “Sorry.”
In a drowsy drugged tango, you swapped your jacket out for the pillow and Yunho wormed his way onto the bed beneath your blanket. You scooted as close to the wall as you could, but even then, Yunho was pressed flush against you. His arms came around your waist, his nose wedging itself between your neck and shoulder until he was comfortable.
“Your feet are cold,” you muttered. “Get them under the blanket.”
“Too tall.”
“Show off.”
He huffed out a puff of air against your neck like a laugh, then tucked his knees up slightly to fit under the blanket. Your legs were now tangled among his, your bodies curled tightly together. In the morning, you would rationalize it out as creating body heat to prevent either of you from getting sick.
When movement stopped, you voiced into the darkness, “Better?”
A content sigh. “Better.”
Maybe this accommodation wasn't so bad after all.
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ateez m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet
492 notes · View notes
flem17ng · 5 months
Text
Oblivious: Mapi Leon x reader
note: this is for the anon who asked for mapi leon fic! I hope it’s what you had in mind xx
Summary: Reader is absolutely infatuated with mapi and she has no idea. Luckily some friends decide to help out.
content: mild age gap but not really
word count: 1.4k
“do the drill y/n! you can drool over leon later!” Patri sighed as she watched you, yet again, get distracted by the older player. This had been happening more and more frequently: everyday it seemed you were found gazing at Mapi from across the field. today was no different as you watched her sprint forward, tap the ball with her toe into the air and volley it across the field. 
clàudia slapped your arm with a grin. 
“one of these days she’s going to notice how in love with her you are hermana” 
“shut up” you grumbled, turning back to the drill. It was true that you made it pretty obvious. It seemed like the whole team knew about your crush on mapi except mapi. It’s not like you had a chance anyway! she was older than you, more experienced and probably the single most attractive woman you had ever seen. So yeah, you didn’t think you really stood a chance. 
“don’t be silly Pina, we both know Mapi wouldn’t recognise y/n’s crush if it slapped her in the face” Patri laughed with a shake of the head.
“can we change the conversation please” you whined suddenly finding the drill a lot more interesting than before
“change what conversation?” 
You whipped around only to find yourself face to face with the very girl you’d been looking at only seconds before. Mapi smiled at you (a sweet lopsided grin that made your heart speed up). 
“oh nothing! Just y/n and her big, ga-“
“my dead grandma” you almost shouted causing a few people to look at you in confusion. Mapi raised her eyebrows. 
“we where talking about my very dead grandma! that’s all!” you gave Patri a stern stare. 
“oh…” Mapi looked between you and the two other girls. “oh i’m sorry I didn’t know. um… well it’s water break now” Mapi backed away a few steps before turning and walking towards the drink bottles. 
“y/n what the fuck” Clàudia muttered. You looked at her, mortified. you needed to pull yourself together. 
***
It took you a whole 2 days to embarrass yourself even further. So maybe you weren’t able to pull yourself together like you told yourself you would. 
The game was a stunner. 9-1 to Barcelona. It was no secret that Mapi was the most valuable player on the pitch that day either. She was everywhere she needed to be. The final goal was something you knew you would never forget: Playing attacking mid, you raced into open space managing to lose your marker just as you neared the box, a second later you could see Mapi weave past the opposing striker and boot the ball towards you. Time slowed down as you jumped, letting the ball hit the top of your head, giving it the slight redirection it needed to skid into the top corner of the goal.  
You wasted no time turning at running towards the tattooed defender who’d assisted you. Her smile in the moment was better than the whole crowds cheering put together. When you crashed into her with a hug, you didn’t even think before kissing her cheek. 
“Mapi! I did it! I swear I could kiss yo-“ you cut yourself off when you saw Mapi’s eyes go wide. The awkward silence didn’t last long as the team descended on you both with loud cheers and slaps on the back. 
***
“you what!!” yelled Patri when you where safely in the car home.
“don’t make me say it again” you groaned, sinking further into your seat, covering your violently pink cheeks with your palms. 
“no i’m going to make you say that again! You said you could kiss her? Jesus y/n!”
Patri shook her head while Clàudia laughed from the backseat. 
“what did she do!” Pina laughed, clearly finding your embarrassment very amusing. 
“she just stared at me! god she’s going to think i’m a freak” you sighed. You could brush it off as heat of the moment, but you know it wasn’t. You could kiss her. Hell you wanted to, everyday you wanted too. 
“you guys are friends! she’s not going to think you’re a freak” Patri laughed
You just sunk further into the leather of the car seat, hoping it would swallow you up. 
***
Mapi was pacing the change-room the next day after training. The thought had been grating on her mind all day. Ever since you avoided her in the car park that morning. Usually you arrived at similar times, chatted about your morning, music, life, but that morning you had parked as close to the building as possible and practically ran inside at the sight of the older player. 
Mapi had shrugged it off but then during training you seemed to be making a visible effort to avoid her. It made her gut twist to think you were upset with her. hell, it made her feel sick to think you were upset at all but no one needed to know that. 
“god it’s just painful to watch at this point” Patri groaned to Alexia as she entered the change-room, only to stop short when she saw Mapi staring at her. 
“hey Mapi! I thought you would have gone home by now” Alexia smiled, much better at playing a poker face than Patri. 
“oh uh, no. I wanted to check on Y/n” she muttered. 
Patri smirked, “oh and whys that?” Alexia slapped her arm to be quiet. 
“she just seemed weird today. Like she avoiding me or something” Mapi groaned. It was weird seemed her like this, so unlike her usual bubbly self. 
“you really have no idea?” Alexia asked. Not teasing, but a genuine, gentle question 
“no idea about what?”
“she likes you Mapi! she has for a long time. If she’s acting weird around you maybe it’s because she’s losing hope.” Patri explained, watching mapis mouth fall open into a little ‘o’. 
“i didn’t realise” she whispered. Inside she could feel her heart speeding up like a kid. she smiled excitedly, “she really likes me?”
“oh god your oblivious sometimes leon” Alexia laughed. 
***
Anger couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when she told you. embarrassment, mortification, rage. You didn’t even have the energy to yell at her when you got the text from Patri telling you that she had told Mapi about your feelings. You simply sent a text to your coach telling him you were sick, locked your phone and cried. 
You knew people would try to get in touch with you, hell some even tried calling your landline but you ignored it all.
How could you show your face at training again?
after a day or so you unlocked your phone. 
4 missed calls from patri, 3 from alexia, a large paragraph from clàudia and-
one text from Mapi Leon. 
You tapped the notification. 
today, 10 mins ago. 
mapi 🦁:  I wanted to kiss you too. 
You almost dropped your phone when you read it. and then you re-read it. and then you really did drop your phone when a loud knock came from the front door. 
“please y/n. It’s me” you heard her voice float through the hallway. Her tone was pleading and you could picture her expression: soft but with a wrinkle in her brow that only appeared when she was worried or upset. 
When the door opened, she stepped inside without hesitation. 
“y/n” she said breathlessly. Her cheeks were pink as if she’d been running and, just as you had imagined, her brow was crinkled with worry. 
“mapi? how did you-“
she cut you off with her lips, cradling your cheek with her hand causing you to gasp. 
she pulled back, looking from your eyes to your lips for permission to kiss you again. 
“Mapi…”
“i’m sorry i didn’t realise sooner. I’m an idiot i know”
You smiled at her and shook your head, finally giving in and reaching up to smooth her worry lines. 
“just kiss me again león” you laughed. and she did just that. Pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply right there on your doorstep. 
Maybe you were an idiot, maybe she was oblivious, but hell she was a good kisser. 
shit, You needed to thank Patri.
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shurisneakers · 4 months
Text
unsolved (i)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.
A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3
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Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.
Apparently. 
On God, he cannot fathom why.
He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  
By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  
“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.
“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”
Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 
“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 
He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.
“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 
Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”
“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 
“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”
His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  
“And also you signed the contract.”
Well. Shit. 
Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.
Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 
“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”
The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 
“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”
Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.
Maya stares at him.
Bucky stares back.
“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”
“No.” 
The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.
“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”
“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”
A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 
“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”
Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.
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So they stick him in a couple of interviews.
Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.
Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.
He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.
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They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.
They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 
The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 
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They give him access to his Twitter. 
He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 
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Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 
“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 
It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 
Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.
He begrudgingly agrees. 
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Therefore, it begins. 
They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 
Then the jokes really start.
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“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 
Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  
He is not put in another video. 
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And so he finds himself here. 
In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.
Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.
“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”
“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”
Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 
“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 
“No.” 
For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 
“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”
Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 
Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 
“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”
Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 
“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”
While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 
Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.
“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”
He wordlessly shakes his head. 
Been the former, seen too much of the latter.
Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  
He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 
Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”
“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”
“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.
“Other people have seen ghosts.”
“Good for other people.”
The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 
“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”
Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 
“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”
You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.
“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”
“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 
“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”
“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 
“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.
“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”
“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 
You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.
“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 
“No.”
“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.
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Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  
“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”
“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 
“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 
Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 
He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 
You were… loud. And open. 
Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 
Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”
Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.
“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”
Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.
“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”
 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 
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“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.
“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”
“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 
“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”
“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 
“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”
“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”
“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.
Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 
“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.
Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 
Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.
“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 
He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.
“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.
Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 
“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”
“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”
Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?
Yay. 
“One video,” he reiterates.
You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 
“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 
Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”
He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.
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here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!
to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!
also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3
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542 notes · View notes
ryukzakiii · 5 months
Text
distraction ⭑ l. lawliet
summary: during a late night working on the kira case with L, his distractions become too overpowering and the two of you decide to blow off some steam.
( part 2 here ! )
pairing: l. lawliet x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT!! MINORS DNI!!! this gets a little filthy actually. virgin!L, praise, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), L is needy as hell, also he swears like 3 times i think so
authors note: hiiii this isn’t proofread and it’s 4am enjoy
smut under the cut‼️
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every night working with you was a long one. in the beginning it was because, try as he might, L could not seem to get you to remember the simplest things you were supposed to do to help him out. you’d forget how many sugars he took in his tea, or forget where you had filed something away the night before, whatever it was it always got on L’s nerves.
not like he could say something to you, he was always fearful that he would hurt your feelings or that you would think he was much more upset than he really was, and that would impact your work.
nowadays however, now that your working together was no longer a new thing and the both of you had gotten into more of a routine, L began to attribute the long nights to simply one thing, you.
he wasn’t sure exactly why, but he found himself distracted from the task at hand most nights of the week, usually thinking instead about how nice it is that you help him out with so much and how enjoyable it is to work with somebody as smart as you. right now in particular though, he was realizing just the reason you were becoming such a distraction.
thanks to his crunched posture, you were blissfully unaware of the growing distraction that laid underneath the zipper of his jeans.
when you’d first joined him that evening, the sight of you descending from your room adorned in pyjamas that left alarmingly little to the imagination, only being aided by a knit cardigan left hanging open, a sudden pulse shot through his body and left L truly praying you couldn’t see the tent forming in his pants. it wasn’t as if L didn’t realize before how attractive you are, but things like that had never affected him the way they were now.
if she would just button up that sweater. maybe then i’d be able to get some work done.
“hellooo?” the sweet sound of your voice interrupted his thoughts, “ryuzaki, did you hear a word i just said?”
“er- no, my apologies. what was it you were saying?”
you playfully rolled your eyes at him and stood as you spoke again, “i said, i’m going to make another tea. do you want anything?”
just to make this throbbing go away so i can get back to work. “no, thank you. hurry back though will you? i’m not getting through this as quickly as i’d like to so i’ll need as much of your help as i can get.”
he watched you hurry out of the room to make your tea and tried hard not to take notice of how little the back of your shorts covered or the sway in your hips as you walked. he placed a hand over his clothed erection and allowed his head to fall back onto the chair, a quick sigh escaping him at the accidental friction.
his few moments of solace came to an end quickly when you came back into the room, giving him little time to sit up and readjust before you took your seat in the chair next to him. almost immediately you scooted over closer and held out a closed fist in front of him, “give me your hand.”
L stretched his hand out underneath yours, a small wrapped candy falling into his palm.
“i grabbed one for you from the bowl in the kitchen.” you said as you unwrapped one of your own.
he watched carefully as the candy brushed your lips before you gently placed it on your tongue, his breathing steadily becoming more heavy and intense and he could feel every pump of blood circulating through his veins, “thank you.”
“are you alright? you look a little flushed. i can turn down the heat if you want, i did turn it up a bit a little while ago.” you started to stand.
“no!” the tips of his ears began to burn with embarrassment as he quickly stood in her place, urging her back into her chair so she wouldn’t be able to see anything, “uh- no, thank you. you just sat back down, i can get it.”
L tried to steady his breathing on the walk over to the thermostat, taking this time with his back turned to attempt to shift his erection in a way it would go unseen. hesitating to turn back around, he scurried back over to his chair with his head down and hoped to whatever god might be listening that you didn’t get a chance to see.
god, how unprofessional. if she noticed, our professional relationship will be tarnished indefinitely and she’d never trust me again. not that i would really blame her, i mean how would that seem, she’s alone at night with her boss and he’s sporting an erection.
unfortunately for L, you had noticed, you actually had noticed back when you got up to get your tea but you weren’t sure if you were just fantasizing imagining things. you were sure of what you saw on his strange walk back to his seat.
while he was lost in his own worry, L failed to notice you moving your chair so your arms were practically touching until he felt you peering in front of him.
he snapped his head back, “what are you doing?”
“just looking at what you’ve got over here. if you weren’t hogging it the whole time i wouldn’t have to invade your space.”
L clutched his knees closer to his chest, at the point of being unable to hide his unsteady and shallow breaths. he wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say to get out of the position he was now in to decide what happened next.
you turned around to look at him, presumably asking him something about what you’d just read. he tried to hear you, he really did, but over his pounding heartbeat and mind full of thoughts all he could do was watch your mouth move in what felt like slow motion.
“i’m sorry, can you please say that again?” he could barely hear his own muffled words. you were so close to him and he could see directly down your top from where he was sat, not that it helped much that you were leaned directly into his eye-line.
you placed your hand on his knee and he thought he was going to throw his stomach up, “i just asked what you thought about these men from the yotsuba group. ryuzaki, seriously is everything okay?”
he wanted to answer but before he could even try you spoke again, “maybe you need to put the case down for a while, y’know, blow off some steam.”
finally, he looked you in the eye, “please forgive me.”
before you got a chance to ask what for, both of his hands held your face as he leaned forward, planting a hesitant but desperate kiss on your lips. he was sure that the moment he pulled away, your involvement in this case and his life was going to crumble in front of him.
to his surprise, he barely had a second to take a breath before you were gripping onto his shirt and pulling him back in. every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, you were practically on top of him and he couldn’t help but try and pull you in closer, reaching for your jaw and your waist and practically anything he could get his hands on. his body was moving by itself and solely on instinct, making him feel a little self conscious about if he was doing the right things. his mind was soon put at ease when he felt his arms fall slack and your weight shift over him, the closer you got the better. you pulled away just slightly to take a breath and his legs fell to a normal position, hurriedly kissing you again and hoping you would just understand and sit down so he didn’t have to try and speak right now.
“ryuzaki—“
“L.” he interjected, “please i— please call me L. just here.”
you smiled, “L, are you sure this is alright?”
“one hundred percent.” his hands still holding onto your waist for dear life, you held his face with yours as you closed the small gap that remained between the two of you. he let out a small, involuntary groan when he felt your thighs press around his hips, “i’m going to need some guidance here, as i’m sure you’ve guessed this isn’t something i have any prior experience with.”
“don’t worry, i’ll teach you.” gently, you began to grind down on him, earning a deep sigh from L and his hands making their way from your waist down to your hips, using his white-knuckled grip to help you slowly along.
“that- that feels incredible. y/n- please i don’t know if i can hold out.” his cheeks were flushed bright red—probably the most colour you’d ever seen on his face—and he looked down to where the only things standing in his way was his jeans and those godforsaken pyjama shorts you wore, “not that i want to go quickly through this, in fact that’s less than ideal it’s just— this is getting rather painful. i need— shit, can i please, you know.”
to put him out of his misery, you hushed him with a kiss and got to work on undoing the button on his pants. you’d barely gotten it undone when his hands pushed yours out of the way, pushing both his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.
you were glad you were already sitting down. not that you were expecting to be disappointed by the size of course, but just seeing it now made you feel a little nervous. drool nearly threatened to escape your mouth before you snapped back into it, making a mental note that you would have to do that another time.
L looked up to you, one hand pushing your shorts to the side trying not to cum right there when he realized you hadn’t been wearing underwear and the other slowly stroking himself, awaiting your approval.
the look on his usually-blank face would’ve been enough to make anybody weak, “L, please.”
he wasted no time in lifting your hips up and pushing himself in, pausing after just the tip to breathe and calm himself down. you could feel his hands trembling during his failed attempt to keep his composure, opting to ease yourself onto him instead.
he let out a shaky breath that caught in his throat when you’d fully sat back down. you yourself were trying to breathe through the intense feelings already taking over your whole body, you weren’t even sure you’d be able to take him fully, and now that you had you felt more full than you ever had in your life.
“let me know when it’s okay to move,” you whispered by his ear, “we’ll go as slow as you need.”
his hands returned to their spot on your hips, “dear god, move.”
you started off slow, his cock only coming out about an inch or two before pushing right back in. his head was spinning, you were invading his every sense. all he could smell was your shampoo, the taste of the candy you’d eaten still remaining both of your tongues. all he wanted to do was show you what he was feeling. he didn’t have the words to even begin to try and explain it. as if they had a mind of their own, his hips began to meet your movements, quickly picking up in speed and overtaking your control.
“fuck! that’s it— L, please.” you couldn’t say much more than that, every word being punctuated with a hushed moan, but the praise drove him crazy. any hesitation he’d had before was forgotten about, and he let his instincts take over. after all, he’d learned to always trust his instincts, why would now be any different?
he knew he wasn’t going to last very long, yet he couldn’t help pushing your hips down to meet his thrusts, hitting your g-spot with every one and making you practically cry out. if it weren’t for the quiet chants of ‘please’ he’d have thought you really were crying.
you could feel your orgasm approaching soon, and as if like he could read your mind L lifted a hand to push your shirt up above your chest and dipped his head down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking so gently compared to the harshness of his cock.
your arms wrapped around his head, hands tugging at the roots of his hair which earned you a deep groan into your chest. with every thrust you were getting closer and closer, his mouth having moved on to kiss your neck with the same desperation he’s harboured since the first time.
“i’m so close, god please don’t stop. —feels so good.” you begged, throat dry and still panting and holding his hair for dear life.
“fuck,” he began losing the rhythm he had been trying to keep to, “i’m— i’m going to orgasm. i need you, please.”
his hips started to stutter as he reached his peak, panting and whining into your ear and wrapping his arms tightly around your back. the feeling of you coming undone and squeezing around him just made it that much more intense, his face felt so hot he buried it into the crook of your neck.
by the time both of your movements had come to a halt, he was laying back in the chair clutching onto you, head still held tightly to your chest and cock beginning to go soft inside you. L never wanted to move.
the embarrassment and nervousness was slowly returning and he felt his cheeks get hot again, so he tried to focus on the sweet smell of your shampoo that engulfed him to calm himself.
after a few long, perfect minutes, you broke the silence, “was that okay?”
“that was amazing.” his head remained tucked into your neck, “i’m sorry if i wasn’t very good at it, and that i couldn’t last any longer.”
“don’t be ridiculous, L it was fantastic. we’ll have plenty of time to build up your stamina if you really want to.”
and just like that at the thought that this could happen to him more than once, he felt the blood rush back into his cock and you suddenly remembered something you’d wanted to do earlier.
“why don’t you let me show you how good you made me feel, huh?”
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zaynesaurora · 1 month
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ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to bedroom talk/noises — (MDNI)
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a/n: idk i had some loose thoughts and tried to turn them into something, might be nothing ! bonus boys both got promoted for this one though because im insane about caleb in particular rn
zayne ! gets off on ambient noises. the rain battering the window panes, the crackling of a wood fire, the thump of the headboard against the wall- he’s romantic like that. he's pretty quiet broadly speaking when it comes to sex and so he enjoys when the atmosphere helps him to express his feelings, his own noises typically being the air escaping his nose in heavy puffs.
he has one sound he enjoys above all those though, always prefacing it with a gentle "are you ready, my love?"- before slipping himself into your awaiting walls, revelling in the gasp that follows in response.
accompanying it will always be the sounds of kissing. zayne pulling you under the sheets, wet lips planting themselves where ever he can reach- the dip of your collar bone being top of the list as he takes you chest to chest in his own perfected version of white noise. an instrumental that makes your skin burn until he stills above you, professing his love with a groan.
xavier ! forgets who he is, who you are, where he is, what hes doing- mind blank but his mouth works overtime to chant a chorus of "yes, Yes YES" with every drop of your hips, descending on him with precision.
if he could see himself from your perspective, he'd probably be unbelievably embarrassed- unaware of the drool thats collecting in the creases at the corners of his lips with every breathy mumble, voice horse from the sheer amount of satisfaction rushing through his veins and off his tongue. the same dewy look would be collecting in his eyes. pretty blues glassing over in a way that makes him look unresposive. he'd fail to let you know he was going to come. too caught up in his own choir to give it even a fleeting thought.
breathing would be laboured after the matter, lungs struggling to catch up with themselves as he comes back to his senses. he'd be slung right off of cloud nine when you start giggling beside him- suddenly aware that he has no idea what he was saying, or the noises he was allowing to be known. you had no idea a human being could change colour so fast.
rafayel ! has fun in sex. teasing nature seeping into all aspects of your life with him regardless of certain activities so it's completely expected that your shared quaters are filled with laughter and bickering even with him burried inside you- elegant hands swatting at your arse randomly to hear you yelp in surprise for him ( he's also doing it bc it makes you tighten around him but shh)
rafs tone would alter to have a more commanding edge as the pleasure really sets in, "dont you dare stop" being a phrase often thrown around and his nails sinking further into your skin- each time it's laced with a snarl that almost makes him seem intimdating if he wasn't belly laughing only a few minutes ago.
unfortunately, or fortunately in his case, he grows impossibly hard at the thought of someone hearing you guys- his pride and ego stroked thinking of an accidental visitor learning how healthy his sex life is, poor thomas has to do damage control fairly often to keep his reputation in good light.
caleb ! has a filthy, rotten mouth when he's caught in such an act. not really in a humiliation sense but more in that he swears like a sailor- each sentence broken or seperated by various profanities as he bigs his game up to egg you one. he won't admit it ever but his wordy displays are defenitely not rhetorical. he needs, and wants, you to let him know that he's doing you well.
"fuck baby, you lik- fuck, you like that dont you?", he'd hum into your ear, sweaty foreheads pressing together in an attempt to be as close to you as humanly possible- each question laced with a sweet pet name.
this boy has a unhealthy addiction to the sound of skin on skin, heavy plat plat plats ricochetting of the walls in a steady hyponitc rhythm that knocks all remaning sanity out of his head and into his dick. he’d drive into you for hours after he’s slipped into exhaustin just to hear the way it becomes messier, stickier- wetter as he annouces his orgasm to you.
jeremiah ! desperately tries to keep himself as quite as possible, shyness seeping into his bones when a stray moans slips from behind his lips- a soft note from the back of his throat that makes his ears flush a painful, deep red and his lip catch between his teeth until the skin breaks and theres a metalic tinge to his delicate kisses.
would have the tendancy to be higher pitched when he's in the bedroom, somewhat squeaky in his efforts to keep a lid on his excitement and would just about explode at the sound of your voice carrying him toward a sweet release- air coming out in hurried pants as his shoulders start to shake, stomach convulsing in waves with each desperate attemp to fill his chest and focus his mind.
"atta boy miah", he ascendes. literally. minimal contact with the mattress when his being raises in an attempt to escape you and get closer at the same time.
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andersonfilms · 7 months
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BEGGING for more milf!reader x sub!abby 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 please please PLEASE 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ (maybe with a lil bit of a breeding kink if you’re into that) take your time love <33
†⠀❝ HEART TO HEART II ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !
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"YOUNGER!ABBY HEADCANNONS"
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, nsfw content, wlw, fem!reader, age gap vague, abby is early twenties, younger!abby, uhal!lesbian vibe, mommy!kink, tw breeding kink, reader has a kid, dom!reader, sub!abby, strap (abby!), oral (abby!r), fingering (abby!r), poc!friendly, nipple play, reader is a mom.
RAYNE RAMBLES ★ thank u so much sweet angel for asking so sweetly. this has teken me longer than intended, but better late than never, right? breeding kink? are u kidding? now, ur speaking my language. hope this is as lovely as you are. if you like, don't forget to reblog!
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younger!abby who can't stop thinking of the first night she spends with you.
younger!abby who can't get your addicting moans out of her head. they play on an endless loop in her mind and she wants to keep them there forever.
younger!abby who swears, even if it's only been one lovely night, she swears she about to tip over the line of love.
younger!abby who never had been manhandled until that very night with you.
Abby thought she was in control - she should've known better. It taken only a moment for your firm hands gripping her hips, maneuvering her weight until you were on top of her.
"It's all for show, huh? These perfectly sculpted arms, your chiseled abs, and don't even get me started on this face. I bet all the girls just fall at your feet."
younger!abby who blushed even more, unable to contain her reaction at each compliment rolling off your tongue.
younger!abby who wanted to tell you there wasn't other girls, but the words died on her tongue when you dragged her into the bedroom.
younger!abby who moaned softly when you played with the end of her braid, your fingers smoothing over the blonde strands.
younger!abby likes the fact you had managed to pull at what she loves most the first night in.
younger!abby who can't help the bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach as you look at her with those goddamn eyes of yours. you were more breathtaking than should be allowed.
younger!abby who watches with a careful eye as you stepped away from her body, shoving your dress until it pools at your feet.
younger!abby who can't help put purr at you, everything on display for her greedy eyes.
younger!abby is infatuated and absolutely lost for words as she looks at you.
younger!abby who can't believe how sexy you are and can't believe you, a descendent from Aphrodite herself, could want her.
younger!abby whose heart stops as you don't walk to her. No. Not yet - you're walking to your night stand.
younger!abby tries to keep her breathing under control as you bring out the strap.
younger!abby who can't help but feel her heart beating out of her chest.
"We don't have to do this you know. If you don't like being fucked like this, I can always put my mouth to good use." You offer, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. Abby loves how your soft voice carries across the room. The need she has for you only grows, begging for a taste.
younger!abby who feels your sweetness pull at her heart.
younger!abby who nods simply, but you don't take it as a sufficient response.
"If you want me to fuck you, you're going to have to say it, angel. Need to hear you say it."
younger!abby who fumbles the words past her lips as she's unable to take her eyes of you, but she manages to get it out.
younger!abby who feels the slick grow in between her thighs as she watches you put the strap on.
younger!abby who can't remember a time she felt this overwhelmed.
younger!abby who can't help but rub her thick thighs together in anticipation.
younger!abby who notices the smirk on your face and just how much you're enjoying teasing her.
younger!abby can only register a soft 'gotta work you open baby' and her boxers are gone.
younger!abby who usually doesn't like to be put on display like this, can't help but feel treasured as you look at her in awe.
younger!abby who loses it the moment she feels your teeth sink in her thighs, littering the punctured skin with sweet kisses.
younger!abby who doesn't know what to do with herself when all of your undivided attention is upon her.
younger!abby loves the way you have her thighs spread out, your body between them and there's no hesitation.
younger!abby who bucks her hips upwards as you give her everything she's been thinking about.
younger!abby who feels a shiver run up her spine as your tongue plays with your vulva, before flattening the muscle against your cunt.
younger!abby who tries to close her thighs around your head, but you won't let her.
"You have to keep this thick thighs open for me, baby. How else am I supposed to fuck this perfect cunt?"
younger!abby who could easily, physically over power you, but can't even imagine doing so. not when you're making her feel this good.
"If you need something to grab onto just pull on my hair." Stopping for a moment, you grab her big hands and Abby makes a makeshift ponytail, as suck on her clit.
younger!abby wonders how she has ever existed without you.
younger!abby loves you mouth, and every moan you let out as you fuck her pussy with her mouth.
younger!abby can't get get over the vibrations she feels and how you hump into the bed every time abby pulls your hair a little too hard.
younger!abby knows for a fact, she's only ever been vocal with you.
younger!abby feels her cunt gripping onto your fingers as you sink two fingers into her, and she can hear just how wet you've gotten her.
younger!abby who can't stop moaning at the feeling of your fingers fucking her and the louder she gets, the better you make her feel.
younger!abby can feel just how close she is, but then you remove your fingers and she feels empty.
younger!abby certainly can't control the whine she lets out. it's needy and carnal - it even hurts her throat a little but she really doesn't care.
"You're lucky my kid is a heavy sleeper, Abs. Or else, I'd have to punish you for it."
younger!abby who tried to at least appear guilty, but it's so hard when the only coherent thought in her mind is wanting to fuck your mouth.
younger!abby knows all she wants to feel is you, and now that you're depriving her of the need it feel like an unbearable weight to hold.
younger!abby who throws her head back when you start sinking your cock into her tight pussy.
younger!abby who feels so full with you inside her. she's trying to hold her moans in with your comment, but your first thrust pulls it right out of her.
younger!abby who is never the one who gets fucked, revels in how good it feels. knowing you wanted to fuck her already had sent her over the edge but god - you really knew how to fuck.
younger!abby who cries out your name as you pick up the pace, your cock hitting her in just the place she needs.
younger!abby who never wants you to stop, she always will crave to feel this forever. she doesn't care if it's dramatic, but you're taking care of her like no one else ever has.
"You're so loud for me. Aren't you?" You chuckle as Abby moans. "Sweet baby, never had her pussy fucked this good. All those stupid, young girls can't give you what mommy can, huh?"
"No, never like this - never this good." Abby swears as you lift, bending her leg over your shoulder, making her cock hit her even deeper. The place all her girlfriends never touched.
younger!abby whose eyes roll into the back of her head, unable to compute with pleasure you're giving her.
younger!abby nearly comes when the next sentence falls from your plump lips.
"Want to put a baby in you, Abs. God, you'd look so pretty." Your pace increasing, if it was even possible. "Would fuck all day and all night if that's what it took."
younger!abby knows it should've scared her off, but all she wants is to please you. nothing could stop the way her cunt grips on your cock like a vice.
"Anything for you. Need you to fill me up." Abby can't help but capturing your nipple in her mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh she sucks."
"Give it to me, Mommy."
younger!abby knows it's all you need before the friction of the strap is too much and you're coming along with her.
younger!abby feels herself falling as you cleans the two of you up, before she holds her.
younger!abby feels safe and she never wants this feeling to escape her.
younger!abby also can't wait until you break her brain and fuck her into oblivion again.
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