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Hackberry Emporer butterfly 🦋 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
It gets its name from the Hackberry tree cuz it lays its eggs on it. And we currently have a Hackberry tree attempting to grow out of the mess of honeysuckle
Also my dad had to give the redbud thats been growing up against the house a haircut cuz it was shading my moms tomatoes too much
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And it looks goofy as hell now
Fuckin lollipop looking ass
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Its fuckin hot out but chewbys need at least 20 minutes of sun a day or they get very sad and mopey and drive everyone crazy
Chewbys also need to roll around in the grass at LEAST twice a day. Very important for chewbys.
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If given proper amounts of sun the chewby should melt onto the floor once back inside.
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sierrale8ne · 1 month ago
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paige bueckers x nika mühl x fem!reader
nsfw // pure smut, voyeurism, dom(ish)!paige, dom!nika, sub!reader, fingering, degradation, oral, orgasm denial, mentions of strap, paige and nika are both intoxicated, ts i really freaky guys i’ll go pray i’m sorry.
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You fucked up. Bad.
Your relationship with the two athletes was confusing, admittedly, you were sleeping with the both of them without the other knowing. It worked well in your sick and twisted mind. Paige gave you what you needed and when she was unavailable Nika did so as well.
A knock on your door drew your attention away from whatever it was that you were doing. You walked to the door, looking through the peephole cautiously. There stood Paige, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her grey Essentials sweats, a black t-shirt on her body and a sliver cross chain on her neck.
A smile appeared on your face, even though you weren’t expecting her tonight. You unlocked the door and swung in open. A smirk formed on the blonde’s face that only widened when her friend came into view. Your eyes widened and a look that could really only be described as fearful took over your face.
Your voice got caught in your throat and you froze in place, eyes moving from Nika’s to Paige’s.
The blonde was the one who made the first move. She stepped into your apartment and placed and hand onto your hip, pushing you further and further into your own apartment and Nika followed swiftly behind her.
“Don’t look so scared, princess.” She teased. You could smell the alcohol off her breath. “If you’re a good girl tonight, then we can make this quick. It’s up to you.”
Nika reached for your hand, dragging you behind her as she approached your bedroom. She didn’t say a word.
And that’s when you knew you really fucked up.
Nika had stripped you bare. Your silky pink pj’s scattered along the floor. Your bra joining it and panties stuffed into her pocket. You were the only one nude, which put you at yet another disadvantage in comparison to the athletes that towered over you.
It was Paige who sat off to the side while Nika positioned you on her leg. She sat on the edge of the bed, your back pressed up against her chest with you situated over one of her thighs. She gripped your legs and forced them apart as wide as they could go, putting you on display for not only yourself but also blonde sitting in the desk chair directly in front of you.
“You’re fucking pathetic.” Nika rasped in your ear. Her hand reached over to give a harsh slap to your cunt, making you thrash on her thigh. “So wet. Who gets you this wet, princess?”
“Nika.” Paige warned.
“What? She was using both of us, I think I deserve to know who does it better. Right?” Nika cooed. She was so sinister, and the way you whimpered against her only fueled her sick and twisted fantasies. She trailed her hand back to your entrance, wasting no time and slipping two of her long fingers inside.
“I—Nika, fuck.” You groaned. Your head fell back onto her strong shoulder, eyes shutting tightly at the instant pleasure that shot up your body. “Feels so good, Nik.”
Her free hand gripped your chin, forcing you to face Paige once again. “Look at her, baby.” She demanded, “let her know how much of a fucking slut you are.”
Your eyes blinked open and you were met with the sight of Paige staring at you, deep into your eyes as she slightly shook her head. She was obviously disappointed with you, sure it was “just sex” but the fact that her teammate had you the same way she did was infuriating.
Nika’s fingers pushed into you faster, curling with each thrust. Your eyes watered, jaw falling slack.
“She makes you feel better than me?” Paige asked. You watched as he hand trailed the under her sweats. You couldn’t see the way her fingers pressed to her clit, but the way her breath visibly hitched was more than enough for you.
“Paige—”
“—Answer the question, princess.” Nika asked you. She was sweet with it, a huge contrast to the way her fingers split you open.
You were soaking wet, each rapid push of Nika’s fingers pulled out more of that silky fluid. It stained her leggings and you knew she would make fun of you for it. Your mind was so focused on the pleasure you were feeling that you forgot to answer Paige’s question.
You refused to answer the question.
The situation you already put them in was bad enough, but to have Paige seated in front of you, asking if herself or one of her best friends fucked you better was almost ten times worse. Your heart nearly beat out of your chest and your legs trembled where you sat.
“Fuck, Paige, I’m sorry.”
“Now you’re sorry?” Nika shot back, not giving you a second to get accustomed to her stretching you out before adding another finger. “What about me? I don’t get an apology?”
You whimpered and thrashed and clenched harshly around her fingers, your climax building up in your core. Nika was so mean and relentless with it, her fingers mercilessly stabbing into your core. Fucking you like you were a toy for her enjoyment. Your eyes rolled, submitting to your punishment.
“Nika, m’ so sorry!” You moaned, something like a cry and a scream. “Gonna cum. M’ cum— Nik! Please, baby.”
They both laughed at you. The ringing of Nika’s laugh loud in your ears. The alcohol on her breath blinded you and she slipped her fingers out of your tight cunt.
“You think you’re getting off that easy?” The brunette asked. “You fuckin’ whore, so needy to cum, huh? Move.” She pushed you off her lap, probably harder than intended but in the moment she didn’t care.
She moved you hard enough that your body tumbled towards Paige’s direction, her strong hands steadying you between her legs.
Paige admired your body shamelessly, veiny hands trailing up to your tits. To your waist and thighs. The way your clit peered innocently at her through your folds. She wanted to ruin you, and her silence let you know exactly what you were in for.
“P, I’m sorry.” You apologized.
“You’re sorry you got caught.” She chuckled. Her hands dropped behind you, gripping every available surface of your ass. Her blue eyes looking over at her brunette teammate as they spoke with her eyes. “You fuckin’ piss me off. I can’t even believe you.”
“I’m sorry.” You stuttered, the apology again falling on deaf ears.
Your hands reached to cup her face but Paige backed away into her seat, her hands pushing yours off of her. “Show me how sorry then. Get on your knees, right here.” She demanded. And you knew better than to piss her off again.
You cautiously sunk to your knees, aware of Nika sitting on the bed watching you. The carpet thankfully cushioning your fall. Though Paige was in front of you, a sight that you loved deeply, your mind kept wandering to Nika. Your head turned slightly, seeing that the brunette had discarded her clothes and sat patiently in her bra and panties. Her breasts cupped beautifully into the material of her bra, legs crossed daintily as she tried to soothe the pressure between her legs.
“Nah don’t look at her.” Paige grunted. Her hand sunk deep into your hair, griping in and tugging you back to face her. Your eyes had been so glued to Nika you didn’t even notice how Paige had pulled down her sweats and boxers until they pooled at her ankles. Her cunt greeted you eagerly, her clit swollen and hidden behind wet folds. “C’mon then. Show Nika how good you eat this pussy, ma.”
The thought of eyes watching you made you nervous, and you cautiously spread the blonde’s legs further. Your palms clammy up against her thighs. You leaned forward slightly, just enough to feel her clit throb against your lips. You sheepishly broke eye contact and diverted your attention to her cunt.
Your tongue darted out, licking from Paige’s entrance up to her clit and back down again. You hummed at her taste before continuing the movement. Her hand dug into your scalp, pushing your face into her more and finding that perfect point of pressure. She used your face, grinding and humping against your soft lips and wet tongue.
“Uh, fuck!” Paige threw her head back as she let out a rather loud moan that made your abused cunt throb even more.
“Such a fuckin’ slut for it, baby.” You hear the Croatian accent ring loudly in your ears. She was directly behind you, watching as her teammate fucked your face as punishment. “Do it like you mean it, stick your tongue out.” She instructed.
You listened, knowing better than to disobey either one of them. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and you innocently looked up at the blonde. Her eyes were shut and her eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Your hand trailed up to her shirt, pushing the hem higher to look at her abs, shining in sweat and convulsing rapidly.
“Good, baby. Gonna—mm gonna make me cum.” Paige whined. Her head raised just briefly looking down at you and how your head moved. Your tongue, a pretty pink, circling around her clit.
You nodded in response, eyes falling shut again as you let her grip harshly on your scalp. “Want it, P.”
“Yeah?”
“Say please, princess.” Nika cooed in your ear. You tried to pull back to speak, but Paige was clearly against it, holding your head even closer to her dripping core.
“Please.” Your begging was muffled. “Please, please, I’ll be so good.”
You watched the gears turn in the blonde’s head as you eagerly continued lapping at her cunt. Nika was eagerly feeling your tits behind you. Your mind ran a thousand miles a minute, completely overwhelmed.
That was until Paige’s hand tugged you away from her. A pout graced your wet lips. The blonde focused on catching her breath and Nika focused on regaining her dominance.
“I don’t think you begged hard enough, pretty girl.” She teased you. She towered over you as she stood up. 5 feet and 11 inches of pure beauty.
“Apology was weak too.” Paige grumbled.
“Since you’re getting punished all night. Maybe you can show P how good you take my cock.” She shrugged. Her slender fingers ran through your hair. You felt so small under her gaze she peered at you like a dominatrix mocking you were you kneeled.
Paige stood up from her spot, ridding her self of what was left of her clothes as she also towered over you. “Maybe you could even let us know who does it better.”
author’s note this one is kinda short bc i don’t know how to write threesomes but that is exactly what growth is for 🙂‍↕️ some nastiness with my nika baby PLS SAVE ME NIKA 😩😩
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6okuto · 6 months ago
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A LITTLE WHILE LONGER
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gn!reader | atsumu parent au, 700 words of silly fluff(?) Unless u think about growing up too much.
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“’tsumu? what’s wrong? why’re you crying?” you put your keys in your pocket, eyes focused on atsumu who’s leaning his head back on the couch, blinking away tears and wiping his cheeks.
he huffs, turning away as if you wouldn’t be able to hear him sniffling. “’m not cryin’!”
“makoto,” you call your daughter who’s sitting with her back to you. “what happened—oh my god, why’re you both crying?”
she looks over her shoulder, and you catch her phone and crumpled tissues in her hands. they look at you with the same pout and loud denial—“we’re not crying!”
the echo is an unconventional comfort—‘we’ enough to tell you that nobody’s said or done any real damage. makoto brings her legs up to sit cross-legged in her chair, grabbing the pillow from behind her to her lap, and you look at your husband. “atsumu.”
his still red eyes snap toward you and his jaw drops, voice filled with hoarse betrayal, “what?! why’re ya lookin’ at me? ‘t’s her fault!”
your daughter gasps and throws her pillow at his chest. “dad!”
atsumu catches it with ease. “makoto!”
“guys.”
stopped before one of them can pick up another pillow, the pair sit back in their seats, this time atsumu holding the pillow up to his chin. makoto sniffles as she unlocks her phone. “here.”
when you walk over and she passes it to you, it’s set to the front camera with some sort of filter waiting to start. you furrow your brows and look to her for explanation.
“it’s an ageing filter—dad started crying when he saw what i’d look like when i get old.”
she sniffles once more, and something in your chest softens. you look toward atsumu who, as if he could feel your gaze, looks away from the corner of the room back to you. his cheeks match his eyes, and he tries to stop what he knows is going to happen, “don’t you—”
“awww.”
“babe,” the whine is immediate as he slouches into the couch.
you only snicker as you hand makoto her phone back, and make your way to him with a smile and arms wide open. despite everything, he straightens, leans toward you and your touch. his head rests against your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair. (you think makoto says “ew” behind you.)
“’tsumu, you big softie,” you tease.
he scoffs weakly as he wraps his arms around your waist. “she’s crying too!”
“am not.”
atsumu peaks his head from around you. “are too, y’liar.”
“i’ve never cried in my life,” makoto denies, a rasp in her words.
the blond in your arms scoffs again. “tell that t’me when you were 7 and crying ’cause y’stepped on a ladybug by accident.”
makoto gasps. “her name was milly, you monster.”
you snort, turning to look at your daughter. “sorry to milly, now stop fighting. family hug time, c’mere.”
and even as they stick their tongues out at each other, they both stand so you can wrap your arms around them, and atsumu quietly plants a kiss to both of your heads. you mumble with a smile, “love you guys.”
“love you too.”
“love you. and you are never growing up.”
“biologically impossible.”
“don’t care, you’re eight now.”
“what—eight?!”
the hug breaks, and you sigh dramatically, atsumu pulling makoto into a headlock you know she could get out of in seconds, even while she laughs.
“eight.”
“why can’t i stay seventeen?”
“numbers don’t go that high for ya anymore.”
“then what’re you?”
“a young and handsome twenty-four year old.”
“ya wish, old man!”
walking away, you call out, “i’m gonna get dinner started, don’t break anything!”
makoto’s “thank you!” is followed by atsumu’s “we won’t!”, and the bittersweet ache in your bones at the thought of your family getting older is soothed by the sound of laughter from the living room, a reminder it'll be you all together, for at least a while longer.
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girl dad atsumu who loves and spoils his daughter to bits is so real but also It's Atsumu.. The Miyas... i thought it'd be nice 2 see her picking up more of his personality + them being silly 🙂‍↕️ (these kinds of relationships r so endearing 2 me 😭🩷) everypony knows they love each other soo much even while they're 'fighting' and accusing the other of cheating at mario kart or whatever LOL.
was gonna make tsumu point out makoto crying at the thought of Him getting old btw but then i would've taken longer to Pack This Up and also had to deal with ME thinking about MY parents so here we are 🫡
@pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv_rose @ur-local-simp @respitable haii my tag list i forgot i had u for a while there. and u guys too @reverie-starlight @dira333 haii friends i hope u are all doing awesome! 🫵🩷
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loveliestlovelygirl · 9 months ago
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after hours
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boss!anakin x secretary!reader
synopsis: since you slept together, anakin, your boss, has been acting pretty much normal around you. on occasion he flirts with you and leaves you little gifts. but you start to question if he sees you as little more than an office plaything.
w.c: 1.2k
highlights: {minors dni} requested anonymously, sexual content and themes, power imbalance, infidelity mentioned, explicit language, brief mentions of domestic abuse
Every single shift after you made the terrible decision of sleeping with your boss, you find a purple rose on your desk. And you have collected enough to make a bouquet which stands in a tall glass right beside your computer. Neither of you have had much time to talk about what happened afterwards. He’s been caught up in his work, and you’ve been caught up in managing his life and coffee orders.
Every time he passes your desk to get to his own office, he flashes his smile and gives you a little wink, letting you know that he hasn’t forgotten what happened. But you don’t know why he seems uninterested in talking about it. You’re too afraid to bring it up to him because… well, he’s your boss. And you’re not exactly sure of where you stand with him anymore. The dynamics of your professional relationship is just as fucked up as you had been on your desk only last week.
God, it’s embarrassing to remember how many documents were destroyed in the hurricane that had been desperate sex with Anakin. You wonder how long it had been since he’d fucked because he acted as though he was deprived. Considering his tumultuous relationship with his beauty queen wife, it all added up though. He needed a release. And you held your legs wide open for him.
It wouldn’t surprise you if he sees you only as a quick fuck, an office plaything to entertain himself with when his wife is upset. Each time you imagine that likely reality you chip off a piece of your self-image.
When he walks through past your desk this morning to begin the day, Anakin stops at the entrance to his office and turns to you. “Mind staying late today?”
You narrow your eyes at him slightly. “Why?”
He freezes for a moment as if he didn’t expect you to question his authority. “Well…” he crosses his arms, “Work stuff.”
You give him a sigh. Something is up. You can tell by the mischievous grin he wears as he looks at you. “I promised I’d meet my friends for drinks later.”
He opens his door a little wider to reveal his liquor cabinet. “I’ll make you one.”
“Are you asking me to have a drink with you?”
He gives you a shy smile and closes the door behind him. He knows you won’t chase after him. You’re too afraid to stand up to him. The dynamics have shifted even further in his favor now that you’ve slept with him.
You hit your hands against your face. You stupid, stupid girl!
Most people had left by five o’clock. The forty-floored skyscraper is a ghost town. As you wait at your desk for your boss to finish up, you swear you can hear yourself think. You nearly scream when he opens the door because you were lost in your thoughts completely. He waves you in, and he’s holding a red drink in his hand.
That’s your drink. A cosmopolitan. How’d he know that?
He hands it to you as you walk in. It’s love at the first sip. Apparently, the famous CEO is also a cocktail expert. 
“How is it?” he asks.
You sip slowly, pacing yourself. “Good. Thank you.”
Anakin offers you his office chair, burgundy, shiny faux-leather, and rolls across the floor as if it’s ice. As heat rushes to your cheeks, you accept his kindness and sit, crossing your legs daintily.
He steps over to his personal bar and pours himself a glass of wine. He swirls it around in his glass a couple times before taking a big sip. Then he turns to you again.
“So,” he mutters.
You smile. “What work stuff did you wanna go over.”
Anakin stands in front of you as if to purposefully occupy your entire view. He takes another sip before finally answering.
“Fine. You’ve got me. Not work stuff.”
You mask your surprised expression by sipping on your own drink. Honestly, you don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s stupid, but you don’t want to assume it’s to talk about your intimate encounter though you wouldn’t mind trying it again. You’ve started wearing matching lingerie every day to work.
“I was hoping…” he hangs his head as he grabs your hand, “we wouldn’t be a one-time thing.”
“What are you asking for, Anakin? Sex?”
With a grin on his lips, he glances up at you again. “You. That’s what I want.”
You set your glass on his desk with a white clink echoing through. “Just me?”
“Just you,” he repeats. “All to myself.”
“You know, I could have a boyfriend,” you say standing up, facing him.
“Well… I hope he doesn’t mind that you’re going to be working overtime…” he pauses and sets his drink beside your glass, “almost every night.”
Of course, his arrogance shouldn’t turn you on like it does, the presumptuousness of his assumption that you’ll be spending every night with him. But it works on you. His unbreakable confidence in everything he does amazes you, and you fall harder somehow. You throw your arms around his neck, and he leans your body back, his hands cupping your ass, and he kisses your deeply. His lips taste of sweet wine and the cigars he smokes sometimes. You chase his tongue into his mouth. And he likes it.
His hands start to lift the edges of your pencil skirt, seeking you. You push back to stop him. You want to take this slowly. Not like last time. Last time was messy and fast. You were swept away by the most animalistic passions.
This time you want to savor him. Savor his touch, the way he feels against your skin, the taste of his body, and the scent of his cologne.
You start with his tie, pulling it down from the back of his neck. It’s blue silk a little darker than his eyes. You unbutton his white dress shirt, slowly revealing the skin beneath decorated by curly hair. Against your fingers, it’s downy soft. You nuzzle his chest with your nose and with your mouth and with your tongue.
He rolls his shirt off and it falls behind him to the floor. Next, you deftly tackle his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it through the loops. The metal clatters on the hard floor, but you don’t stop.
In your last encounter, all he managed was to rip your panties off and unzip his fly. He could hardly wait to get inside you. And it had been a tight fight, even with his attempts to ready your body.
This time you fully undress each other and fully embrace your natural states during this intimate meeting. Anakin admires your body, rubbing his hands up and down the sides of your hips, savoring your breasts. 
You like this softer side to him. The life he lives has hardened him. You have to be cutthroat to survive. And you know he’s done things he’s not proud of.
But you know his heart. And right now, his heart is for you.
He’s looking down at you in the same way he used to towards his wife. All you can hope for is that his feelings for you will last.
add yourself to my taglist!! @princessswifie @doblasftcisco @multifandermissesanakin @jadegmfu @coldkiss @mysteriouslydelightfulcloud @karei009 @anda-the-valkyrie @vinushkka @avoxzy @edclynns @ter-luer @anakinniesluv @purelevna @forets-noyees @zvjezdapadalica @anisgirl7 @reine-lalune @ssskywalkerrr @anakinsbbgirl @sweetcheesecakesblog @rozastarz @moonlight-kr @anonymous1996s @luvanaise @ziggystarduzzt @gwdnsqal @lonelywitchv2 @tembud @obsessedrebel @c-losur3 @just-here-to-readd @slut4ani @abaker74 @anakinbbg @ellebunnie @sandymorgan12 @ultraviolenceticket @emotionallybruisedx @ririszn @itsoneofusworld @pheonixfucu @kittycai
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owlcomics101 · 6 months ago
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“Egg sitting.” Task force 141 x Penguin hybrid male!reader
warnings: Fluff, sfw (I am a minor), maybe some kissing?, cussing/swearing, Smoking (I do not condone)
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Egg sitting. For penguins it’s the males that egg sit while the female goes away for a while to feed during the harsh winter and return back in the later Spring. This also goes for hybrids as well. You are an emperor penguin/human hybrid. You have the webbed feet, small nub tail and some fluff here and there. In the winter months your feathery fur thickens and you grow more patches for warmth but also for the sake of warming your egg. It was an off day and everyone was in the common room, you were standing up asleep, slightly hunched over with your egg resting snug on your feet. The team couldn’t help just stare at you dumb founded. It was quite the absurd sight to behold. The egg was already weird enough but the fact that you are literally sleeping standing up baffles them.
“Fucking hell….” Ghost murmurs watching you sleep.
“Howfur does he even kip lik' that?” Soap asks with a brow raised. He was sitting on the common room couch leaning against Ghost while Ghost sharpened his knives. Gaz sat in one of the chairs. He was trying to read his book but couldn’t help but glance at you. He was worried about you. Despite you sleeping all the time you still looked so tired with balancing everything. The missions, the egg, everyone else, and even your wellbeing.
“God he looks exhausted…” Gaz says with a sigh as he listens to your snores. Price takes a drag of his cigar and lowers his papers to look up at you before he frowns while letting out a puff of smoke. Price let out a sigh before getting up and walking over to you.
“You need a break soldier.” He mutters before looking over to Gaz.
“Help me get him to the couch.” Price orders as Gaz immediately gets up to help you. Ghost and Soap look at each other before getting off the couch. Soap looked down at your feet before searching through your fluffy legs to find the egg. He pulled the egg out and it was fucking huge. Soap only ever seen it resting on your feet and it looked so much smaller with all the fluff covering it.
“A'm feelin' ill that brassic wummin wha leid this….” Soap mutters before getting bonked on the head by Ghost
“Shut it.” Ghost says sternly. Ghost crossed his arms as he watched Price and Gaz carry you to the couch. A long relaxed sigh escaped you as you felt your self feeling the soft cushion of the couch.
“There, that should do it.” Price says before turning around wide eyed to the egg. Right…he almost forgot about it.
“So uh….what do we do with it?” Gaz looks down at the egg as he adjusts his cap.
Five minutes later you were still sleeping on the couch snoring loudly while the team tried to figure out what to do with the egg.
“Careful with it captain!” Soap says. As he watches Price wrap a blanket around the egg.
“Oi, calm down ya muppet! I know what I’m doing-I’ve seen y/n do this a thousand times.” Price grumbles as he wraps the egg snug in a small blanket before setting it on his feet and lighting himself a cigar.
“We’ll take shifts, Fifteen minutes each.” Price says before Ghost butts in.
“Fifteen bloody minutes!?” Ghost sets his knives aside as both Gaz and Soap snicker to themselves.
”Yes Fifteen focking minutes Ghost.” Price says with an eye roll. “If Y/N can do this 24 hours a day and even in god Damm missions. I think we can handle Fifteen minutes!”
“I’ve never seen a man waddle so fast on the field.” Gaz mumbles to himself before looking over his shoulder to see your sleeping figure.
The team each took shifts with baby sitting the egg, Soap was just getting off his turn as he hands Ghost the egg.
“God damm…how does he dae this a' day?” Soap says as he takes off his boots to look at his very irritated and sore feet.
“You should’ve seen Price’s feet, he stood with that egg for over thirty minutes.” Gaz snickers as he sits down in a chair and pulls out his book.
“Talk about determination…” Soap mutters as he sits down on the couch next to your sleeping figure. Reaching out to fix a strand of hair out of your face. Ghost looks down at the egg. It was his turn. He couldn’t help but grumble to himself. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as the egg rests on his feet.
You wake up ten minutes later to find your self on the couch. Wait-why are on the couch? Where is your egg? In a panic you sluggishly look around, you were still only half awake but you couldn’t bear the thought of your egg being missing.
“What-Where!?” You looked around still daze to find your egg wrapped in a blanket on someone’s feet. You let out a tired sigh of relief as you get up to take the egg back. You unwrapped the blanket from it and set it down on your feet again. Safe and sound. Your vision was still blurry and you couldn’t make out who was in front of you. It had to be your mate right? Who else would be touching your egg if not her?
“Thanks, love.” You mumble tiredly as you planted a kiss on the person’s forehead. You thought it was your mate but it was actually Ghost. You just kissed Ghost without realizing it. Soap and Gaz snicker before bursting out in laughter as you waddle away oblivious. Ghost was frozen in place completely flabbergasted and red in the face under his mask. Price couldn’t help but chuckle himself before letting out a puff of smoke from his cigar.
This happened quite a lot…mistaking your team members as your mate whenever you’re in a drowsy state. You couldn’t help it, you were lonely and touch starved for her. You feel like you’re seeing her everywhere but also nowhere at all. You were depressed. Gaz shared a bunk with you in the barracks. He was the bottom bunk and you were the top. He was in a deep sleep before being awaken to seeing you unconsciously trying to hold his hand. He goes wide eyed quickly stuffing your arm back into your bunk as you mutter random shit in your sleep. It always left Gaz completely flustered and he didn’t even realize it. Soap would spar with you in the training room, only to find you randomly collapse out of pure exhaustion. He helps carry you to bed to only listen to your crying in your sleep about your mate. It made Soap tense up every time in discomfort seeing you in discomfort. You’d also still randomly kiss Ghost on the forehead of his mask after missions if you were really exhausted. It made him freeze up every time because he isn’t sure how to react to such affection…even if he isn’t your actual mate. Price would see this all from afar. Seeing your exhausting as depressing state. Whenever you fell asleep or was too busy…he’d watch the egg for you. He wasn’t sure why, babysitting that egg was hell for his feet but seeing you smile knowing your egg was safe always made butterflies go off in his stomach.
You were just getting worst in your loneliness and depression. And to make things worst, you woke up one morning to your egg shattered into small pieces of eggshells.
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to be continued?
(Gah this was so much fun! I’ve wanted to do this for quite awhile now! I honestly really wanna continue this but at the end of the day it is up to you guys. Can we get to a 100 notes?)
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kissitbttr · 7 months ago
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ana babes, i'm stuck in the library studying my ass off but my thoughts always seem to go to fucking frat miguel between the shelves for a quick study break ☹️☹️☹️☹️
-sapphic loser
“i said no, miguel”
he whines, dropping his forehead down on the open book while stomping his foot down like a little boy earning a warning glance from someone who passes by,
“why nooot”
“do you even have to ask?! we’re in a library dumbass. control your dick for one second”
“how am i supposed to do that when you’re sitting in front of me?” he argues, “looking all cute and pouty.. makes me want to bang you all the time”
“miguel!” you warn with a groan, face heating up at his words, “we literally had sex this morning. twice, if i may add. i’m sure you can handle another two hours of you not being inside me”
miguel scoffs, his expression twists into something more looking in disbelief. as if it’s ridiculous for you to assume that,
his arms are crossed, leaning back against the chair with his knee bouncing rapidly. “this is boring”
“i didn’t ask you to come here, miguel. i told you to hang out with the boys didn’t i?”
“they’re being annoying right now”
you give him a look that says ‘and you’re not?’ which causes him to roll his eyes before pouting. “we can go do it three rows behind, baby. no one will notice”
his fingers reaching out underneath the table to play with the skirt of your dress. feeling his touch a little bit further and further which causes you to glare at him,
“jeez—you are no fun” he huffs, wincing when you knock his feet with yours. “i thought my girl would be an exhibitionist—but nope! i thought wrong”
“are you serious?!”you give him a deadpan look, dropping the pen on the table. “we literally fucked at your dad’s office at thanksgiving! that, and also the jacuzzi sex when we had had a ski trip with our friends?! you losing your fucking memory or what?”
that doesn’t seem to phase him enough, just shrugging his shoulders as he look down on your cleavage fingers tapping against the wooden table,
“doesn’t count in my opinion. there weren’t people there”
“god! miguel you are so—
-
“—fucking big, miggy!” desperate moan falls of your lips as he has you pinned against one of the bookshelf, “don’t stop, p-please”
yeah, you decide to give in to his suggestion seeing how it didn’t stop him from bothering you. letting him choose the perfect spot where no one else can see. thankfully, there aren’t a lot of people in the library so it was easy. the main task was to hide from the old librarian lady that never seemed to like the two of you,
his pants are hanging low by the hips whilst your dress is bunched up around the waist. full breasts spilling out of the cups making miguel feel dizzy at the euphoric sight of his girlfriend getting fucked.
miguel’s bulky arms holding you by the thighs as his cock plunges deep into your wet hole. his gaze falls upon your open mouth and down to your bouncing tits, leaning forward to take a nipple between his teeth,
“f-fuck, right there baby—shit” you whisper moan, back arching at the feeling of your sensitive bud getting chewed on. tangling your hands through his hair, tugging it
“puta madre you’re going to be the death of me” he comments with a groan, driving in a bit faster, chest pressing against yours as he tells you to hold onto him tightly. “didn’t i tell you this was a good idea?”
your eyes snap open, seeing that cocky smirk that quirks upon his lips. giving him a light scowl. “don’t be a fucking smart ass. you were just horny”
miguel chuckles deeply, giving you a long sloppy kiss on the mouth, licking your lower lip. “open wide, princesa” he orders with a small tap on your cheek. he grins when you obey him fast, tongue out. miguel spits his drool a bit down to your warm muscle, watching you giggle and close your mouth before swallowing it,
god, you’re so fucking sexy it’s driving him insane,
“almost there, baby?” you nod at the question, locking your legs around him a bit tighter. “fuck—me too—shit, shit”
it is far too impossible to contain your moans, especially you. which is why when you’re about to cum, miguel has to muffle your noises with his palm to keep the security and librarian coming to get the two of you busted. and it is irritating to miguel because he loves your noises. he loves hearing how good he makes you feel,
“cum for me, sweetheart—give it to me” he whispers lowly in your ear, one hand moving to reach the nape of your neck as his other still holding onto your thigh. he’a fucking you even faster that you feel the large shelf behind you is shaking quite rapidly.
“thaaat’s it— that’s it muñeca , oh fuck—fuck, i’m g-gonna—“
he cuts himself off once you both reach your high not a moment after. his cum painting the inside of your velvet walls as you coat his cock with yours. his thrusts are getting sloppy when he’s slowing down. miguel is trying to catch his breath as he watches your head falling back to catch yours. eyeing the beautiful sight before him.
he palms your cheek, thumb grazing against both of your lips making you kiss it. your eyes finding his and flashing him a shy grin.
“muy hermosa” he pecks your lips, “perfecto” your cheek, “mi cariño” one underneath the jawline. “and all mine”
his praises are making you giggle, arms circled around his neck as he helps you get down slowly and fix your dress before fixing his pants,
“i needed that, baby—thank you” you reach on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, but that doesn’t stop miguel from pulling you in to give you a real kiss. his hands kneading your ass. as if the fucking before isn’t enough. “okay, okay—baby—sto-oh!” you try to stifle the laughs when he moves down to kiss your neck, the stubble on his chin tickling you,
“can’t get enough of you, muñeca—shit—i’d give up everything for you, you know that?”
“hmm—even football and OBJ?” you jokingly ask, eyebrow twitching as you feel him freeze and pull away with a slight offended look,
“know your limits, baby”
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spiderlily-w1tch-blog · 8 months ago
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𝙻𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚗 (𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝)||𝚆𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚎 - 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢
𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊
— — —
ft sitting in his lap, a hint of teeth, cock-warming + some grinding, human present, oral(R!Receiving), fingering; ft GN!Reader, no pronouns used to refer to Reader or explicit genitalia
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own X-Men/Marvel or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors
WC: 2,082
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes reader being entirely nude except for a ribbon, pet names babydoll, babe, baby, doll, and sweetheart are used, No Use of Y/n, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)
𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: pet names used(babydoll, doll, sweetheart, etc) are all intended to be gender neutral, reader has a mostly ambiguous mutation, but it is mentioned to have a self-healing factor,, Also, I’d like to preemptively apologize for the puns, there’s only a couple but,,, yk,, puns
【Masterlist】
— — —
You carefully adjust the bow over your sex as you breathe to calm yourself before you present(I’m hilarious aren’t I?( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) yourself to the birthday boy.
Logan and you have been together for nearing 2 years now, but you still get flustered when it comes to things like this. You’ve fucked in front of people before but then it was strangers and you weren’t entirely nude except for a ribbon twisted around your form. Knowing it’s his birthday, you steel your nerves and don’t let yourself think too much as you wait for your cue.
“Now, Logan, I think it’s time for your big present!” Scott announces, making sure to be loud enough that you can hear him. One last quick breath to release your last bit of stress and you’re out. You take shy steps into the room and the bright red ribbon contrasting against your skin catches his attention immediately.
His eyes rake down your form and a wide grin slowly grows on his face the more he sees and the closer you get to him.
“Damn, babydoll. All that for me?” He bites his lip with a borderline feral smirk on his lips.
“‘Course it is, birthday boy,” You smile at him, it was intended to be sultry but became more soft and sweet than anything. His feral smirk softens and he beckons you towards him. He brings his hands up to stroke over your thighs once you stand in front of him and he takes in the sight of the ribbon delightfully contouring against your skin and how delicately it’s wrapped around your body. It perfectly frames his favourite parts of you.
It loops around your hips, dipping into the crevices where your thighs meet your groin. The red forms an intricate shape over your chest and tastefully runs directly over your nipples. It all connects in the pretty bow right at the centre of your pelvis to cover up one of his favorite spots between your legs.
“You look perfect, babe.” He leans forward and places a soft kiss, with an underlying hunger, on your belly. He pulls back just enough to look up at you with thinly veiled lust in his eyes, “Turn around, babe, I wanna see the back,” the light command sends a small surge of heat through your body as you obey.
Turning around, you see everyone else here for his party. And for his present. Scott sits in an armchair to the right with Jean sitting on the arm with her legs over his lap. Kurt sits on the floor cross-legged with his eyes trained on you with fascination. Rogue sits on an ottoman behind him, trying and failing to look indifferent to the situation. Remy sits in another armchair with his arms resting comfortably on the arms and one leg crossed over the other, looking almost like a mafia boss or something, orchestrating this whole thing with the smug look he has while watching you intently.
Hank is in a large chair, made for him with his beastly size, watching both Logan’s and your actions carefully. For one reason or another, you’re glad that the Professor had to leave on business. You don’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye if he were here to watch you and Logan like this.
Logan still sits behind you as he appreciates the work you put into wrapping yourself up for him. The ribbon runs under your ass cheeks and across your lower back to perfectly frame your ass. Along your back, rather than being jumbled awkwardly to only make the front pretty, the ribbon crisscrosses delicately.
“You know exactly what I like, huh, doll?” He asks cheekily as he brings his hands up to trace over the ribbon. He reaches where it frames your ass and grabs handfuls of your flesh to squeeze and spread to get a good glimpse of his goal. He leans in and sets a long lick over his favourite hole, slicking it up and groaning at your taste. He pulls back to slap at your ass hard enough to watch it jiggle for him.
“Mmm, fuck, baby, c’mere,” He pulls your cheeks apart again and sucks on two of his fingers to slick them up to properly stretch you for his cock. Because of the healing aspect of your mutation, your body always resets itself so you’re tight as a virgin no matter how many times you take his cock.
His fingers pushing into you has you moaning already and makes you arch your back as your arms reach back to steady yourself on his shoulders. He turns his head to place a light kiss on your wrist as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, scissoring you to open you up.
“L-Logan… Fuck…” You pant and lose yourself to the feeling until he deems you ready and pulls his fingers back. You slightly whimper at the loss, hearing the snickering from some of your friends as they see how needy you can be.
“C’mere, baby,” Logan chuckles and turns you around to face him again, “you all ready?” He asks, a smug smirk on his face with an eyebrow quirked up. You nod with a slightly whiny ‘Mhm’ as he quickly shimmies his sweats off his hips to let his cock bounce up and hit his toned stomach. Once his cock is free and ready, he slides his hands back up your thighs to reach the ribbon over your crotch.
“Time to open my present,” He smirked and places a kiss to your hip as he carefully undoes the bow. After he pulls the tail, the ribbon unravels and lets all the rest of it wrapped around your body go slack. Not wanting to waste too much time but still wanting to appreciate your gift and all the detail, he follows the direction of the ribbon to pull it all off of you.
He pays extra attention to the bits between your thighs and framing your ass, and to the intricate design on your chest. As he unravels the design, he makes sure to stroke over your nipples and even pulls you down to straddle his thighs, once your bottom half is fully free, to lick over them and tweak them. Once the whole ribbon is off, he sets it to the side, making a mental note to keep it since it’s already catered to your measurements.
From there, he slides you forward and brings his fingers to your lips to have you wet them. He bites his lip and groans at the sight of you sucking on the appendages. When he deems them wet enough he slips them out of your mouth and brings them down to his cock to wet it for your entrance.
“Fuck… Logan…” You sigh at the sight of his hand pumping his big, hard cock.
“Don’t worry, doll, you’ll be feeling this in no time.” His smirk showed off his teeth and it reminded you of the night before when he’d marked you up with bites and hickeys that had, unfortunately, already healed. Soon, he brings his fingers back to your stretched hole and slickers it up even more before he guides your hips to position over his tip.
“You gonna be good and take it all, babydoll?” He grunts out as his tip rubs over your hole and his lips pressed to your chest.
“Yes, oh god, yes..!” You call out, feeling almost tortured by his tip only rubbing over where you desperately needed him buried inside you. At your answer, he smirks and helps to lower you down on him, not stopping until your ass is fully seated on his lap.
“Fuuucck… Tight as ever, sweetheart,” He mutters to you as he wraps his arms firmly around your waist and you bury your face in his neck. You go to move your hips to ride him but he tightens his hold around your waist to keep you in place.
“Lo..?” You ask, your voice no louder than a whisper in his ear.
“Just relax, babe, I want you to keep me warm, ‘kay? Just stay like this, baby,” He noses behind your ear and places a kiss just below it. You couldn’t concentrate with his dick stretching you full, but you nodded anyhow and buried your face further in the crook of his neck.
“Summers. You said you guys got a cake?” Logan calls out to Scott as if everything is completely normal.
“Uh, yea!” The brunette says, seemingly surprised out of a stupor as he scrambles to get up. He sends a quick confused look around the room but gives a quick shrug as he jogs to the kitchen.
“Wait, so, you’re just going to… stay like that?” Kurt asks, clearly confused at the concept.
“Yup. Here’s a lesson, bub, you don’t gotta actively fuck to have this kinda intimacy. I’m guessin’ you never heard of Cock warming.” There’s a small pause of silence which you assume is Kurt shaking his head in lieu of a verbal answer, “Well, this is it. You just got your partner sittin’ on your cock. Not movin’ or anything, just sittin’ pretty and bein’ a good little cock sleeve.” He moves his hands to not be clutching you so tight and to rub over your sides and your back, keeping you comfortable and sated.
He presses kisses to your jaw and neck, leading onto your shoulder as they waited for Scott to get back.
“Ow! Shit!” You all hear a quiet hiss from the kitchen after a small ‘zap’ followed by an equally small ‘bang’. You would have giggled at what you all know just happened but the feeling of your gut tightening accentuates every part of you that’s clamping down on Logan.
“Haaappy Biiirthdaay too youu,” You can hear Scott trying sing all wobbly like he’s trying to purely focus on the cake in his hands. Everyone else joins in, though it seems awkward as many of them are still distracted by the situation of you in Logan’s lap. You try and lighten the atmosphere by weakly joining the song which does earn a chuckle from your boyfriend. Luckily, it seems you succeeded when the others start to focus on the events now going on.
Soon enough, Logan has to shift slightly to look at the cake to decide what piece he wants as is customary. You clench around him when he shifts which affects you both, coaxing a moan from you and a pleasured grunt from him. Quickly, he places a light kiss on the crook of your neck before he does back to his task of picking out his piece of cake.
You can feel him give a nod of thanks to Scott when he hands him the small plate. It seems everyone simply indulges in the rest of the party while you sit and cock warm Logan. He offers you bites of cake every so often and occasionally licks frosting off your lip. Once he’s done, his hands return to your waist and he brings you back enough to kiss you properly.
“You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. You feel amazing,” He murmurs against your lips before he indulges again.
“Wanna be good for you. Wanna be so good for you, Lo,” You let out in a whine. You grind your hips down on his and he inhales a hiss, his hands on your hips tighten at the feeling.
“Mm, fuck, baby… Stay still for me, ‘kay? Oh, fuck, you feel so good, doll, promise…” He grunts out. His hands move to your ass and grab big handfuls of it with a squeeze to still your movements, “If you’re good for the whole party, I’ll let you cum on my cock, alright? Would you like that..?” He asks in a teasing tone as he brings one of his hands forward to stroke your sex slightly, making your intended movements falter from the shock of pleasure he just sent through you.
“Mhmm!” You nod rapidly and completely still your hips. You can’t help but clamp down on him when he continues to lightly stroke your sensitive spots.
“You’re such a good little cock sleeve, sweetheart.” He smirks and brings you forward back into his chest and nestles his head in your neck. He leaves small, teasing bites on you as a promise of what’s to come. If you’re good, that is.
— — —
𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:
@frosch-thefrog
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webslingingslasher · 1 year ago
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hi! I love the way you write. could you do something in which peter thinks he has no chance with reader as himself so he flirts with her as spiderman but eventually she finds out
*cleaning out my inbox*
sitting in a lawn chair on the roof of your building, spider-man sitting on the ledge, swinging his legs as he spoke, you listened to his rambling about an old woman he helped today.
it's been the dozenth time you've met up and talked, caught by him one afternoon when you were hiding away. you'd been healthy friends since, mostly surface value and mostly him venting, but this time was different.
spider-man didn't get personal, and you understood why, but since he didn't, you didn't. spider-man is talking animatedly but all you can think about is peter parker, sometimes life just wasn't fair.
you were caught when you didn't laugh with him at a joke, he tilted his head, 'you're quiet today, you doin' alright?'
you shrug, you feel emotionally numb.
'stuff at school, it's dumb. everything is dumb.'
spider-man adjusts himself, 'wanna talk about it?'
'i don't know, have you...' you pause to collect your thoughts, clearing your throat you start again. 'have you ever tried to make a move on someone but, like, telepathically?'
'uhhh...'
'ugh, i don't know. like, hey, if i stare at you enough and say 'ask me out' on a loop in my head, they'll catch the hint and do it.'
spider-man thinks about it, 'i think my version of that would be hey, if i avoid eye contact and pretend you don't exist, maybe you'll get a crush on me and ask me out, or avoid me forever. i'm okay with either.'
you laugh, you feel like he opened up to you, and he's the city's hero, maybe you can open up too.
'well, mine's name is peter parker and i'm pretty sure he has no idea i exist. i mean, not that i've actually tried to talk to him before, because he seems very nice but he also makes me super nervous and i think i would lose all ability to speak.'
spider-man has wide eyes, 'so, yeah. i guess when he didn't notice me for the millionth time today it clicked that the ship has sailed and i have to move on. shit sucks, dude.'
'no! no, no, no, you can't give up! he likes you too! i mean, what if he likes you too?'
'he doesn't know i exist, it's fine.'
'he knows you exist! i'd put money on the line he was doing that thing where he pretends you don't exist because he thought he had no chance or knew he'd fumble the bag so he deemed asking you out worthless!'
your eyes narrowed, 'i'm worthless?'
spider-man clutched the sides of his mask, his voice coming out squeaky. 'you're such a girl! you only hear one thing!'
'you called me worthless.'
'no, i said that i thought i had no chance and embarrassing myself just to get rejected would be a terrible waste of my time.'
you should be more focused on his switch from third to first point of view, but you crossed your arms instead.
'so... i'm a waste of time?'
spider-man groans, it's dramatic. in one motion in tugs his mask off and peter parker revealed.
'you're not a waste of time,' he gestures between yourselves, hinting at all the hours you've spent together, 'obviously.'
'and i'd really, really like to take you on a date.'
you hum, 'is this the part where i avoid you forever?'
a shy smile, 'i hope not.'
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samsno1 · 8 months ago
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You were sitting at the map table, facing Dean, his eyes focused on whatever he was looking at on the computer screen. He had that little worry line between his eyebrows as he squinted, actual proof he was submerged in his task.
You had a beer on your hand as you watched him, from time to time you took a sip. The book you were supposed to be reading much less interesting than the view in front of you.
Dean had a cup of whiskey beside him that he took to his mouth, his look not once leaving the laptop. You still find amusing how Dean does not make a face whenever he drinks pure whiskey but, again, he drinks a lot.
"You're staring" He says, his green eyes lifting up to look at you, who just shrugged, sipping again on your near room temperature beer.
"You're great to look at" You admit, not denying his statement. He chuckles at you, shaking his head and laying back on his chair, not saying another word.
You kept looking at him but, this time, he stared back. You felt intimidated in a way. He had crossed his arms, his muscular shoulders from hours working, not only on hunts, but also building and rebuilding Baby, straining against his flannel shirt.
"Is this a staring contest?" You asked with a teasing smirk on your face and Dean shrugged.
"If you want it to be" He replied. You thought for a moment, your eyes squinting at the man.
"What are we betting on?" You questioned and Dean thought for about three seconds before replying with a wicked grin on his lips.
"The loser has to answer whatever question the winner asks, no running from it" He settles and you agree with a long hum, a smile opening up on your face. You wondered why he chose this condition and how he came to a conclusion so quickly but you couldn't find an answer.
"Deal"
"It's on then, sweetheart" The nickname he used on you always made goosebumps roll through your skin but you couldn't be distracted, not now.
You stared deeply into each other's eyes, not breaking the stare. As the game went on, you thought about what you were going to ask him, thousands of questions roaming through your head but none that could actually be worth your while.
After some time, your eyes started to burn and you really felt the need to blink. Dean seemed unbothered, relaxed on his chair as he kept his arms crossed and a faint teasing smirk on his face. He took another sip of the alcohol in his cup.
You started bouncing your knee to distract yourself, your eyes watering as you tried your hardest to win. But, soon enough, it became too much to bare and you blinked.
You groaned in defeat as Dean laughed at your loss, both his fists going up in the air in a winning motion. You laughed and shook your head at his childishness and leaned against the table on your elbows, resting your head over your crossed fingers, palms facing down.
"So, oh great winner Dean Winchester, what question do you have for me?" You ask as his laugh dies down and he looks back at you, eyeing you thoughtfully.
He thinks for a while and gets up from his chair, circling the table. His boots thudded against the ground as you sat there, confused. You started to turn the chair along with your body, accompanying his movement.
He walked closer and closer and you started to feel nervous with the anticipation. You swallowed deeply as your eyes started to look higher to keep your look on his face, which didn't give anything away, he wasn't smiling, he wasn't frowning, he just had a relaxed look in his eyes as he stared into yours.
Once he got close enough, he stopped, both his legs almost touching yours. He angles his torso down, his hands each coming up to seek support against the armrest of your chair. You straightened your back, eyes wide and breathing shallow, the proximity making you nervous.
Dean gripped the armrest tightly, his face coming close to yours and your breath hitches, staring at his green orbs, trying to avoid looking at his mouth, you ended up closing your eyes, relying completely on your other senses.
You feel him moving, his breathing being felt against your ear this time. His warm breath against your skin sent shivers up your spine, your nails digging into your jean covered legs.
"Can I..." He whispers against your ear. You could hear the smirk on his voice, feel the smile lines that always formed around his eyes when he did that. You breathed heavily.
Dean's hand touched your arm, his warm and calloused hand feeling like a fire through your skin. He slid it up, until it rested right beside your neck, his thumb brushing your jawline.
"Can I...get you another beer?" He whispers again and at that you open your eyes, absolutely confused.
Dean pulls away, a mischievous smile on his lips. His hand left your skin and he straightened up, crossing his arms.
"What?" You said, breathless. You were shocked and so absolutely disappointed. You stared at him with a frown and he just shrugs, waiting for an answer.
"No running. Can I?" He asks again and you blink. Once. Twice.
"Dean what–"
"Nuh, uh, answer the question"
"But–" You try again and he raises an eyebrow, giving you a stern look. You sigh. "Okay, yes, you can but–"
"Okay, great! I'll get me one too" He says and almost instantly speeds away as quickly as he can.
"Wait, Dean!" You call out but it's already too late, his body disappearing through the door that led to the kitchen.
You opened your arms in disbelief, mouth agape as you shook your head. What the hell happened?!
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A/N: Okay, I know this is different from what i usually do but i was wondering, would you guys enjoy if i wrote short things like these more often? Or no? Like, little drabbles or silly little things that come to mind, not exactly a one-shot per say. Tell me what you think please! It's important and I always love your comments <3
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darlingsfandom · 6 months ago
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Let Me Show You .
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Dr. Johnathan Crane x Plus Sized! Reader.
TW: humiliation , choking, breeding, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex!
Lighting flashed across the sky giving some light into your cell where you laid on the soft bed. It wasn’t your fault that you ended up in here, how long does it last until you can’t the taunting anymore? For you it lasted your whole life until ten months ago when the coil inside of you snapped!
You had made yourself face the public and go out one night. You just needed one night to go out and try to be social but that ended with you on top of a man punching him until your knuckles were bloodied and bruised as he laid there laughing until he started to go unconscious. He had pulled on your hair while you were trying to make your way to the bars bathroom making you gasp so he took it as a challenge with his friends. He teased you by calling you ugly names , commenting on how your clothes really outlined your rolls , how you looked like a made up pig! You had enough! The words you’ve heard for your whole life finally took its toll and now here you were lying in the asylum.
You stood trail and since you had a squeaky clean record along with one of the best public defenders in all of Gotham you only had to serve six months unless you followed good behavior and could get out earlier. The sentence was fair and you were to also be under the care of Dr.Johnathan Crane Gothams best psychiatrist. That was the best part. He didn’t see you as another patient, probably because almost everyone there was another male and you were one of the only females in there. Of course they didn’t have love handles or tummy rolls like you and it still irritated you.
The sound of your cell opening perked up your ears making you sit up.
“Good evening Y/N” The sly smile on his lips made you tingle in a way that it shouldn’t. Dr.Crane waited for you to stand so he could take you to his office for your mandatory session. Both of you walked in silence until you were in his office standing nervously . “You know you can sit. You’ve sat on that couch every day for the last month, what’s the matter now ?” He circled around like a shark in water making your thighs clench.
“What if I break…”
“You’re not going to break it!” He snapped at you before grabbing your shoulders and looking into your eyes. “Go sit on it!” You swallowed hard before you carried yourself to the black leather and sat on the edge. “All the way.” He spoke up. You nodded and sat in the middle of the couch folding your hands in your lap.
“Clearly you’re not doing what I’ve told you.” Dr. Crane sat in his own chair with his legs crossed. You couldn’t argue with him. He raised his eyebrow at you and clicked his tongue before pinching the bridge of the his nose.
“I know you think that since I’m male that I know nothing of how the female brain works. That I don’t understand that when you look in the mirror that your poke at all your insecurities. You THINK that you’re ugly because your stomach folds and hangs, your arms jiggle when you raise them and your delicious thighs…” he coughed “I mean your thighs, yes they touch and rub but you need that.”
Your mouth hung open for a split second when he called your thighs delicious, that was a joke right? You looked down at your feet while holding your stomach. Dr.Crane stood up , walked up to you , grabbed your hand and stood you up. He walked with you out of his office, down the hallway to a part of the asylum you had never seen before. It was dark, wet and yet still felt welcoming. He opened a door and pulled you inside.
“Where?” Before you could finish your sentence he had his hand over your mouth.
“Shh. This is our secret.” He whispered in your ear when he flicked on the light. The room wasn’t big, it was poorly lit, a single bed in the middle of the room and in the corner was a giant mirror. He walked you over to the mirror and made you stand there. You tried to turn away but he grabbed you by your wide chin and forced you to look at yourself.
“You’ve heard how ugly you are , how you’re unwanted , unattractive…” his words were bringing tears to your eyes as you looked yourself in the mirror. “You look like a barnyard animal, but that’s what years of damage do to the ego. You’ve been brainwashed into thinking you’re all those things.”
Dr. Crane stood behind you in the mirror holding your face with a soft grip. “Now I want you to say all the nice things about your body.”
“I can’t ! My body is ug-“ His hand quickly wrapped around your throat and squeezed enough to take your breath away.
“Say something nice.” He gritted his teeth against your ear. He let go of your throat making you gasp.
“My… body.. “ your hands ran over your stomach as he watched with darkened eyes.
“Is soft?” He gave you a decent smile.
“There you go. Nothing wrong with having a soft body.” His hands ran over your sides before giving your love handles a big squeeze making you giggle. “How cute!” Crane gave your hips another squeeze before pulling them towards his own hips.
“Tell me something else nice about your soft beautiful body.” His words had a hint of lust wrapped around them. Crane watched as you chewed your lip looking at yourself through the dirty glass. His hand found your throat again and squeezed it enough to make your eyes roll back.
“It’s not that hard darling!” Crane used his free hand to grope your boobs. “These are nice! Say something nice about them.” He let go of you with a small shove making you stumble forward. Your hands gripped the mirror. No thoughts were in your mind , no words could leave your mouth.
“Fine, if you can’t say it…. I’ll show you.” His hands reached up and ripped opened your shirt exposing your breasts. “See!” He yanked you up straight by your hair making you whine. The little whine made him smirk. “Look at your breasts!”
“They’re not that …” Crane slapped your face making you whimper before forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror.
“You’re too hard on yourself darling. You’re a beautiful girl .” He finished ripping your clothes off making you stand in front of the mirror completely naked. He grinned ear to ear. “Look at you!” He ran his hands all over your body giving your most hated areas a squeeze. “I don’t know anyone couldn’t find you attractive. You’re a smart young lady with beautiful curves, delicious thighs and your breasts … “ Crane kissed the side of your neck making your knees buckle. He held your hips as he bent you forward . Your fingers gripped the sides of the mirror while Crane dragged his finger tips over your thighs.
Your body felt hot from his touch. You couldn’t tell if he just wanted you for sex or if he truly did find your body to be beautiful. Your thoughts disappeared when his hands spread your thighs.
“Since you’re struggling to accept how beautiful you are, maybe this will teach you.” His index finger slid inside of you while his other hand squeezed the side of your throat keeping your head turned to face the mirror. “It’s my job as your doctor to make sure you get those nasty ideas out of your head.” Crane worked his finger inside of you twisting it in a way you’ve never felt. You were so used to your hand and toys but to feel his slender finger going deeper than your use to felt amazing. He slid another finger inside of you while keeping the soft pressure on your neck. Your eyes were closed which angered him until he heard you mumbling.
“feels so good.” Your voice was trembling which made him smile.
“Yeah? Why does it feel good?”
“Because you’re touching me! You see my soft body!”
“Good girl!” Crane nibbled your ear lobe while fingering your pussy like his life depended on it. “You’re so close, I can tell.”
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Dr. crane I’m so close!” You cried out. The coil in your stomach was about to snap right there at any second until he pulled his fingers away making you whine.
“Oh honey, you don’t get to cum now. You were a bad girl. You can’t even tell me what you like about your body.” Crane licked his fingers clean while watching how you pouted your bottom lip at him through the mirror. Once he was done he grabbed your hand and took you over to the old style medical bed that had leather straps.
“Nooo!” You went to run but he grabbed your hair and yanked it backwards.
“Don’t be dumb. I’m not going to hurt you.” He shoved you down on the bed making your squirm below him. You gulped in panic as he huffed. “Normally yes, my patients get strapped down and are subjected to unusual treatments for therapy but not you.” He stood up and quickly restrained your arms. “You my dear… I’m going to make you a mommy.”
Your eyes went huge! You quickly tried to struggle against the leather which made him chuckle before gripping your chin. “Stop! Or I will subject you to those type of treatments.” He gave you a little smack before standing there undressing himself slowly. Tears filled your eyes until you looked at him and it flooded your mind… Dr.Crane was on the opposite end of the scale. He wasn’t buff or anything, he did understand your pain. People always judged his body, how fragile he looked. He was beautiful to you and he had spent all this time making you see that you are beautiful just the way you are.
“Dr. Crane..” you mumbled as he crawled on top of you. His fingers traced over your cheek gently almost lovingly.
“What is it ?” He pushed his glasses up his nose.
“Why me? Why make me a mommy? Why would you put a baby in me?” You turned your lips out at him as he looked into yours.
“Because you are mine! You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met. Not mention you can kill a man with your bare fists. A strong, smart, beautiful woman, you’re what I’ve always needed and now I’ve you and you’re not going anywhere . You see…” his hands grabbed at your thighs and spread them open . He grinned down at your pussy before lining the head of his cock up to your folds, slowly he slid in while grabbing your hands and locking your fingers together.
“When I heard about, I followed you. I watched your trail closely. I learned everything I could about you. I need you! You need me.” He pushed his cock all the way inside of you making you scream. “Oh pretty girl!” He moaned out. “That’s a good girl.” Crane closed his eyes at the feeling of how tight you were squeezing his cock. You laid there with tears running down your cheeks as he thrusted into you. Your legs were still unrestrained which meant you could try to kick him off, but he held your legs up to drill into you deeper making you moan in pleasure because he was reaching at spot you’ve never felt.
“You’re going to be such a beautiful mommy! Going to make such beautiful, intelligent babies with you !” His mouth hung open while he looked deep into your ears as he fucked you faster. You looked into his eyes softly while wrapping your legs around him tightly.
“Good girl, you want me to make you a mommy so badly .” He leaned down and kissed you passionately , it was romantic and sweet. Crane felt his own orgasm about to break as he slowed down his thrusting holding your hips tightly. He cried out your name with a loud groan and held you in place as his cum shot deep into your cervix.
“You’re going to make me a beautiful mommy.” You whimpered feeling his cum fill you up. Crane looked up at you with a smile . “I knew that would fix you.” He huffed as he held your legs in the same upward position. Crane reached down between your bodies and found your clit. He rubbed it hard until the familiar feeling was about to wave over you.
“Cum for me pretty girl!” He looked into your eyes as your orgasm gushed out of you. You choked out his name as he held your face in his hands.
“You did such a good job. And don’t worry , if this time didn’t take…. I’m not going to stop until you and I have made the most precious thing ever.” His words were sincere. Dr.Crane had made his mark on you more ways than one and you would have never imagined that this is how you ended up in life, but all of it lead you here as his.
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girlwiththepapatattoo · 1 year ago
Text
you see through me what lies beyond
Fandom: Legend of Zelda
Pairings: Ganondorf/Female Reader
Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, embarrassment, some feels, messing a bit with canon
Notes: Here, have 13k words of Ganondorf smut lmao. This was a ton of fun to write, and I hope that you all enjoy! (If anyone sees any errors, feel free to point them out!)
Read on Ao3 here!
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Awareness comes to you slowly, a drift of your senses waking, as though they were asleep for decades rather than a full night’s rest. Touch comes first: the sleek softness of silk sheets under your hands, against your fingertips, smooth against your bare legs. You weren’t wearing what you normally did to sleep, either: enfolding your form is what feels like a nightdress, also made of silk. 
Next comes your hearing. It’s raining outside, the gentle taps of water on a glass windowpane from somewhere nearby periodically drowned by the distant rumble of thunder. The crackle of a nearby fire filters in, gentle and welcoming. 
Whatever wood is in the fireplace (it can’t be a campfire, you wouldn’t be on this plush bed) is fragrant as your sense of smell returns. Other scents filter in: leather, old books, and closer to you, some sort of spice mixed with sandalwood and copper. It’s alluring, making your nostrils flare. 
Your eyes flick open. There’s only a hint of firelight coming through the almost-sheer, black drapes on the gigantic four poster bed that was most certainly not your own. 
You swallow thickly, your heart-rate picking up as you realize that, wherever you are, it’s not home.
Mattress creaking gently as you sit up, the strap to the nightgown you’ve been changed into slides down one shoulder, the soft touch making you shiver in your unease. You pull it back up and carefully ease yourself over to the edge of the bed, reaching one hand out and shifting one gauzy curtain to the side. 
Bookcases line the walls, filled with tomes that look both recent (though not modern) and ancient. Candles flicker on nearby tables, safely away from the books. What walls aren’t covered in books have tapestries hanging, depicting what looks like a desert fortress on one, a great battle on another. A plush, dark red carpet surrounds the bed, and also the giant armchair in front of the crackling fireplace. 
“Are you going to sit there all day, woman?” comes a sudden voice. You jump as you realize that there’s someone sitting in the chair. “Come here.” 
The voice is low, a bass growl, commanding your attention and action all at once. Swallowing hard once more, you stand, taking a moment as your legs wobble. 
“Ah, yes. Travel is hard on mortals without power. Your strength should return soon.” 
“...w-where am I?” you ask, more fear in your voice than you’d like. 
A soft chuckle meets your ears, and you wish you found the rumble of his voice much less attractive than you did. “I think you are smart enough to know once you see my face. Come.” 
You feel goosebumps spread over your shoulders, and not just from the sudden cold stone floor under your bare feet as you step forward. Hesitantly, you approach the great armchair, standing at a distance away that you feel fairly safe from whoever’s in it. Of course, you don’t know if he has a weapon, gun or otherwise…but you’ll take what reassurance you can get right now. 
You take a deep breath, then finally take your last step forward and turn to face the man in the chair. A gasp of disbelieving shock leaves your lips, your eyes wide in recognition. 
A massive frame fills the chair, the man before you the biggest you’ve ever seen in your life. Legs nearly as thick as your own torso are crossed comfortably at the ankles, stretched out along the carpet to warm his bare feet in front of the fire. The glint of a gold anklet shines briefly. A core thick with strength, leads up to mountainous shoulders, biceps you don’t think your fingers would meet around, distractingly strong forearms, hands that rival dinner plates in size. One hand is closed in a fist, upon which is propped a red-bearded jaw. Your eyes roam over smirking lips, a large and dignified nose, and finally the golden eyes that pierce through yours…
Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudo, Bearer of the Triforce of Power, sits before you. 
You know you’re gaping, mouth hanging open in shock. His smirk widens just a hair as his eyes roam your form. “It seems I was right. That shade of red is lovely on you.” 
You pinch yourself hard on the arm. The pain makes you hiss, and he laughs, a soft, amused rumble that you can almost feel in your skin. 
“Do you think yourself dreaming? I suppose you must. Power such as mine has no place in your world, after all.” 
“Y-You…you can’t be real,” you finally gasp. “That’s not…” 
“Possible? I assure you, little one, I am as real as you are.” The hand not pressed to his jaw lifts up a golden goblet, and he sips at the contents within, his golden stare not leaving yours. He licks a droplet of crimson wine from his lips before setting the drink down on an end table next to him. 
You suddenly feel very vulnerable, standing before such a man in nothing but a thin silk nightgown. Your hands clench nervously in the material. “W-Why am I…w-what happened to my pajamas?” 
His air turns amused, though his gaze loses little intensity. “Would you prefer I seduce you whilst you wear pink clothes with kittens on them? No, I much prefer you in something like this, something more…elegant. Sensual.” 
His words feel like a lightning bolt just hit your spine, and you feel a hot blush spread over your cheeks. “W-Wait, you–what did—”
Another rumble of laughter escapes his throat. “Oh, yes, red is certainly your color.” He shifts, sitting up and bracing his forearms on his thick thighs. Muscles ripple as he moves, one half of his torso bared from his robes, the firelight playing over darkly tanned skin. “Come here.” 
One huge finger points to a spot just before his feet. Your knees tremble at the thought of being so close to him, but you can’t make yourself move. 
His eyes glint as you stay put, and instead of getting angry like you expected, he simply chuckles. “Stunned, are you? Not an unreasonable reaction. But I am a patient man, when I wish to be.” 
“Why am I here?!” you finally blurt, before gasping and clapping your hands over your mouth. 
He laughs fully now, one massive hand splaying over his stomach in his mirth. “Oh, how adorable you are! Why do you think you’re here?” He smiles, wide, delighted, a hunger in the expression that makes you swallow. “I have lived, in one form or another, for a very long time. You pick up a few secrets of the universe when you have an awareness that spans over ten thousand years.” He leans back in his chair once more, propping his bearded cheek on his fist again. “I know there are universes, dimensions, whatever you want to call them, that are not my own. I know that some of those dimensions touch mine in some small way. You know exactly who I am…and you know exactly what you want from me.” 
Your face goes sheet white, and then beet red. “W-Wait, t-that’s–” 
“Oh yes. I’ve felt your desire for me clear across worlds, my flustered little admirer,” he purrs. “Your overwhelming need for pleasure at my hands…” To your surprise, he huffs a little. “To put it frankly, it is very distracting. I have important plans to oversee, which I cannot be doing when every ten minutes I hear your desire for my mouth to–” 
“S-STOP, STOP I GET IT!” you cry, quaking in embarrassment. 
His grin is pure dark mischief. “I truly wonder if you do though.” He’s quiet a moment, just watching you stew in your mortification. You hate this, hate the fact that he’s already gotten you so riled up…
And by hate, of course, you mean love. 
“You have two options,” he suddenly says, and the tone in his voice is commanding, ordering you to listen. You couldn’t not listen if you tried. “Either I send you home, right now, to live out your boring little life, never knowing what wonders I could have shown you…” He smirks, teeth flashing for a moment in the firelight, glinting off the pronounced fang of one canine. “Or…I take you. I make you mine, little one. I fuck you so thoroughly and so well that I will ruin you for other men the rest of your life. I will prove that even your persistent daydreams pale in comparison to the real thing.” His eyes flick away from you, looking into the fire, almost dismissive of you standing there, shivering in arousal. “But the choice is yours.” 
He picks up his goblet again, sipping at the contents within, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s a part of you that’s almost angry at how he can be so casual after completely turning your world upside down…after giving you such a difficult choice to make on the spot. 
“C-Could I…?” His eyes flick to you, the golden, expectant stare making you shiver for a moment before you take a deep breath and try again. “Am I allowed to ask questions?” 
“I’d be concerned if you did not,” comes the amused answer. You blink in surprised confusion, and for the first time, a hint of anger enters his eyes. “I know, from these desires of yours, that you think me more than some one-note villain. My goal may be conquering Hyrule once and for all, and I may think nothing of the pawns I use to achieve that goal, but one thing I am not, nor will I ever be, is a rapist.” His nostrils flare in his ire, one lip curling in disgust. “I may have brought you here, but I will not force you. You are free to ask questions, and you are free to say no, without fear of violence from me.” 
In spite of this bizarre situation, in spite of the man before you, you can feel your shoulders relaxing. “Thank you.” 
He flicks his hands dismissively at your words, before looking towards the flames once more. “Ask your questions.” 
“Can…” You swallow hard. “If I say yes, is there…some sort of protection we’ll use? Can you get me pregnant?” 
He chuckles, that low rumble you wish didn’t do funny things to your belly. “I have sired many children during these eons. Yes, I can get you with child, and yes, there is protection.” He opens the drawer of the end-table and draws out a small medallion on a length of soft cord. A simple golden triangle gleams in the firelight, much like his eyes do. “There’s a charm of protection on that. Wear it the entire time, and my seed will not take within you.” 
He tosses it to you, and you nearly fumble it away before securing it in your grasp. Flushing, you hold it tightly to your chest. “Thank you.” You take another deep breath. “If I…say yes…what happens after? I just go home?” 
“Yes…if that is what you wish.” He smirks, stretching out his long body again, and you fight to keep your eyes on his and not on the wonderful play of muscles under his skin. “As I said, magic does not belong in your world. If, after I make you mine, you find that you just cannot live without feeling my touch again…well, I cannot come to your home myself. As it is, it took a great deal of power to bring you here to begin with.” 
He shakes his head, though there’s an expression on his face that’s almost...curious. As if he has an academic interest in the subject. “The way that the walls of your dimension fight my sorcery is, admittedly, fascinating. I would like to study it properly someday.” 
He seems to come back to himself, his eyes focusing on you again. “After I have shown you what it will truly be like to lie with me, you may decide you wish to stay for a time. I would allow that. Truthfully, I would be amenable to having a woman at my side who is not terrified of me. How long I would want you here is still up for debate.” 
You nod slowly, your mind trying to fly into the well of possibilities. But you stop it almost before it begins: you aren’t here to be his equal, his partner. You’re here to warm his bed, to stop being…a distraction. 
Your eyes widen as it really hits you. You aren’t here because he saw something special in you, or because of some hidden talent. You’re here because you were so pathetically desperate for this man that it actually breached dimensions. Your eyes fill with tears as humiliation rises in your chest. 
Ganondorf blinks in surprise as you look away, your shoulders beginning to shake. “I…I-I’m so sorry for disturbing you,” you say, your voice thick with barely held-back sobs. “I…never knew you really…were real, and I…never wanted to annoy you. I-I’m so sorry.” 
He stares at you, before he heaves a sigh. You don’t see him move, but you hear his chair creak. Before you know it he’s swept you up into his arms. You yelp in surprise through your tears–no one’s ever picked you up like this before. “Hush,” he says, though his voice is softer and not unkind. He sits back down, setting you across his lap, and one huge hand presses to your head, forcing your cheek to rest on his chest. Were you not so upset, you’d have loved to enjoy it. 
“...I think, perhaps, I have worded something wrong,” he murmurs after a minute of silence. “I am not displeased to be the recipient of your affections, little one. On the contrary, I have been planning this night for some weeks.” His fingers, warm and surprisingly soothing, stroke gently over your cheek. “I was impressed with the depths of your affection, of how strong your feelings are. For them to reach across the dimensional veils…that is no small feat. Were you born here, I could see you being a great sorceress.” You can hear the faint smile in his voice. “In fact, were you to stay, you may yet develop magic of your own. But that is neither here nor there.” He tilts your head up with a gentle finger under your chin, and a careful thumb wipes your tears away. “No more of this, hm?” 
“So…” You swallow thickly. “So I’m not here just because I was…distracting you?” 
He laughs softly, a gentle rumble of amusement that you almost feel more than hear, like velvet over a rockslide. “No, that is far from the only reason.” He snorts in amusement. “You know who some of my past servants have been. You must remember Zant. In comparison, your attentions would have been a breath of fresh air.” 
You can’t help but laugh, and his lips twitch up faintly. He begins idly twirling a piece of your hair through his fingers, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “But I also need you to understand: beyond your affection for me, I have no idea who you are. So do not expect more feelings from me other than lust and some vague fondness. I say this not to be cruel, it is simply the truth.” 
You give a hard sniff, but you nod. “Yeah, I get it. This isn’t…” Your eyes widen. “This really isn’t one of my fantasies, you’re…you’re real and here and–” He watches with a smug smirk as your blush deepens rapidly. “A-And I’m sitting on your lap oh my god.” 
He laughs, a deeper, full-throated sound that makes you hide your face behind your hands. “You are adorable, all flustered like this. You turn such pretty colors so easily…” 
“A-Anyway!” You know he’s grinning down at you, but you forge on with your point. “Y-Yeah, so, this is real and you’re not just pixels. You’re a real person, with agency, and I…I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t wanna do just because my thoughts were um…loud.”
The look in his eyes plainly says that you couldn’t make him do anything he wouldn’t want to anyway, but he still nods to you. “I appreciate the sentiment, and return it.” He brings the lock of hair he was still toiling with to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the strands, his golden gaze still boring into your own. He sees the way your breath hitches, and it makes a soft rumble of interest emanate from his chest. “The things I want to do to you…” he all but growls, and a candle of desire bursts to life in your lower belly. 
In a flash, he’s turned you on his lap. Your back presses to his chest, the top of your head tucked up under his chin…and your legs are spread around his thighs. You gasp in surprise, at how fast that was, at how vulnerable this feels, spread wide over his closed legs, the nightgown pulling up so that most of your thighs are on display. “O-Oh, f-fuck, I–” 
He chuckles darkly, lowering his head to press his bearded cheek to yours. “What a mouth you have…” he purrs, enjoying the way that you shiver at the prickle of his facial hair. “I look forward to finding out what else it is capable of…” 
Your eyes slam shut as a wave of lust washes over you. His voice, the tone, the suggestive words…he was right: none of your fantasies are measuring up to the real thing, and the fun hasn’t even started yet! 
One huge hand splays over your belly suddenly, the warmth of him felt easily through the thin fabric. He feels your abs jump under his touch, and a pleased grin pulls at his lips. You can feel it, feel it when he smiles against your skin. 
Your body is burning already. 
“You are very sensitive…” The thumb of his free hand suddenly caresses over the top of your thigh, and a gasp bursts out of your throat without permission. He’s tall enough, his frame dwarfing yours enough that he can get a full view of the front of your body, and his grin widens to see the skin of both thighs pimpled in goosebumps. To see the juts of your hardened nipples pressing against the silk they’re hidden in. “Beautiful…oh, I am going to enjoy playing with you…” 
“I-I’m so…y-you feel so good,” you breathe, and then blush darkly as you realize what you said and turn your face away in embarrassment. 
He chuckles deeply, lifting the hand that had touched your thigh to stroke a thumb along your jawline, making you exhale hard. Then his lips press to your neck, his nose brushing over your jaw, his beard a wonderful scrape on your skin, and the sound that bursts from your throat…it isn’t like any sound you’ve ever made in your life. 
He feels you tremble on him, enjoying the way your skin flushes in arousal all the way down your chest. He presses a line of achingly slow kisses up and down the column of your throat, and with each caress of soft, warm lips your body becomes more and more impatient. 
You open your mouth to beg him to do something more, but the only thing that comes out is a desperate cry as he bites down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. 
You writhe on his lap, heat racing over your skin, every inch of you shivering in need at feeling his teeth in your flesh, at the almost-but-not-quite harsh pressure, at the points of his canines. They could easily break the skin…but they don’t, and the strength and control he has is just another source of arousal for you.
You can feel sweat beading in your hairline as he removes his teeth, and you shudder and whine softly as his tongue gives a lap over where he just bit. “My marks will look good on you,” he praises, caressing his nose over the side of your neck almost fondly. “I am eager to leave more…” 
“P-Please,” you gasp, unaware in the haze of your pleasure that you were wriggling your hips, trying to get some sort of friction where you most need it. 
“Hm. I want you to tell me if this gets painful for you.” 
“W-What?” 
Your legs are still spread over his thighs, your toes almost tucked behind his knees, which were pressed together this whole time. But now he pulls them apart, opening his own legs so that yours spread even wider. You gasp loudly as you feel the relatively cooler air of the room against your overheated core, against the slickness coating your underwear. He feels a shudder work its way up your spine as his legs stop.
You feel somehow even more vulnerable, the edges of the nightgown hiked up to where your legs connect to your torso. There’s a slight burn to your hips from how wide he’s spread you open, but it’s one you know will fade if you let it. You sit there shivering, panting; in all your life, you’ve never felt arousal like this before.
“How are you feeling, my beautiful one?” he rasps. You know, deep in the part of your mind that’s not completely taken with lust, that he’s affected by this too. The gravel that’s suffused his voice is evidence enough of that, even if you couldn’t feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your backside. 
“Good,” you manage to gasp out. “I feel so good, everything’s so…so sensitive. I need…I-I need you…” 
He nuzzles once more into your neck, making you shudder on him. “And you will have me…but not quite yet. I am going to take my time with you, take you apart piece by piece…” 
His hands, his massive hands, suddenly curve over the soft skin of your thighs. His skin is calloused but warm, providing a wonderful, gentle scrape of sensation that leaves you shivering all over again. He feels your muscles jump under his touch, and he smiles once more against your neck. “I want you to tell me, lovely one, about your favorite fantasy.” 
You have to fight to push through the haze of lust enough to really understand his words, and they bring a flush of embarrassment to your face. “I-I’m sure you’ve…you’ve heard it…” 
“I have,” he replies agreeably, and he gives your thighs a gentle squeeze, enjoying the way you quiver at the sudden pressure. “But I want to hear it from you in person.” 
You swallow thickly, trying to form words, trying to make your mouth work to tell him what he wants. But you’re too overwhelmed, too embarrassed to speak the words out loud. 
He, however, has no such qualms. 
“Speechless I see…hmm, well, I can understand that. It is our first time together, and you are unused to such…lust.” His hands begin to rub slowly, softly, up and down your thighs, the roughness of his callouses making you shudder and twitch. His fingertips get closer and closer to your core with each pass. “So I shall speak the words you cannot.” 
“A-Ah, um, you really d-don’t have to,” you reply, your voice a quaking whisper.
He chuckles darkly, brushing the tip of his nose playfully down the shell of your ear. “And leave such a good idea to the recesses in your mind where your fantasies play? No, beautiful one, such…creativity should be shared.” His fingernails begin to gently scritch at your skin, and he feels your toes curl hard against his calves. 
“I have you suspended in the air, caught up in magical binds. Your legs are spread and bent, as if squatting, your hands behind your back to push those lovely tits out for my enjoyment. You are blindfolded, but not gagged, so that I may hear each sound I drag out of you. A series of three wooden cocks are taking turns pushing deep into you, guided by magic as well. One is fully smooth, one has large bumps over its surface, and one has a set of ridges. You also have a small plug in that lovely ass, which I make shift every so often just to remind you that it’s there.” 
His words come slowly, smoothly, as if reading from the morning newspaper, and listening him describing the debauchery you’ve come up with in that deep, sonorous voice is making your clit throb. 
“The entire time, I watch from a nearby seat, telling you my every thought of your body and how it’s being pleasured. And once in a while I float you over to me, so that I may drink of your pleasure, and admonish you for dripping on my pants.” 
The last part is said in a growl, and one huge hand suddenly cups you firmly between your legs. A cry tears from your throat at the sudden delicious force, and your hips buck toward his touch desperately, seeking any sort of friction you can get. 
He laughs as he gives a gentle squeeze to your mound, a smug smile tugging his lips up as you almost gurgle at the pressure where you need it the most. “Dripping indeed…we will not be able to salvage your small-clothes, my beautiful little faucet.” 
While his left hand cups you, his right begins slowly working up your body, stroking here, gripping there, until his fingers splay just under your breasts. By now, your desire has been stoked into an inferno. Your hips can’t stop rolling into his touch, though he does nothing but cup you and give a soft squeeze every so often. Your torso arches into his hand, begging without words for him to finally touch you, take your desperate body the way you need. 
You’re pretty sure that you’d do whatever he asked right now, if only he’d bring you to your peak. And with a man like Ganondorf, that’s a dangerous place to be…
The hand on your chest moves, and your face flushes darkly as he tugs the hem of the silk nightgown down, baring your flesh to his hungry gaze. “Lovely…” he purrs, and he finally, finally cups his hand around your right breast. 
You cry out his name as he gives a gentle squeeze, your achingly-hard nipple scraping against his palm, the feeling enough to have your words breaking free in a frantic ramble. “Yes yes yes please, Ganondorf, please I-AH!” 
“Unfortunately,” he says, as if you’re not losing your mind at his touch, “my magic is not suitable for telekinesis, so your fantasy cannot come true. At least, from a magical source.” He smirks, kneading your breast in his hand. “Thankfully, there are other ways to hold you in midair.” 
Quaking and whimpering in his hands, your own raise. He hadn’t said that you couldn’t touch him. So you reach behind yourself, cupping your hands eagerly around the back of his neck, trying to anchor yourself to earth, to bring the frenzied need of your body down a notch. His skin is so warm under yours, and you feel his beautiful, fiery hair gently brushing over the backs of your fingers. 
It works, though, your mind lifting a little from the haze of lust you’d been drowning in. You start to take slower breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. It wouldn’t do to pass out your first time with the Demon King. 
He lets you, lets you get a little of your breath back…but not for long. 
Two fingers suddenly press to your clothed folds, the drenched fabric pushing against your outer lips, and with a firm but teasing pressure, rise up your slit. At this angle, he only gets the barest hint of pressure over your clit before his fingers part, dragging back down to press over your entrance and then repeat the process. 
All your muscles, from your toes to your fingers, clench in desperate need as your hips thrust toward his teasing touch. A broken-sounding sob is wrenched from your throat, and he growls softly as your nails dig into his neck, closing his eyes to enjoy the tiny bite of pain as his fingers continue their circuit. 
Sweat drips down your spine, sticking your skin to his chest as he works your body into a frenzy. You can feel your inner-most thighs becoming absolutely drenched in your own slick, his fingers gliding easily over the ruined fabric. “I believe…you are ready for your first peak,” he purrs. “I have teased you long enough. I do not wish to be cruel…at least, not more than you can handle, anyway.” 
“P-Please, please,” you gasp. 
“So polite…” 
His hand at your core shifts, and there’s the sudden tearing of fabric as he rips your underwear away. He chuckles darkly, teeth glinting in the firelight, as he holds up the drenched, ruined scrap of cloth to examine it. “Long enough indeed…look at me.” 
That tone of voice can only be obeyed, and you turn your head, letting your eyes meet his. That golden gaze spears you, and maintaining devastating eye contact the whole time, he lifts the sodden scrap to his lips and takes a long, slow lick. You turn crimson and break the gaze to look away, but his hand leaves your breast to grip your chin, turning your face back to him. “I said, look at me, my pet,” he growls, before licking again. 
You squirm on his lap, and he growls in pleasure at both your taste bursting on his tongue, and the way your ass rubs against his cock through the thin material of his pants. You suddenly hear a rather wet sounding splat as he tosses the ruined underclothes away. “Be ready,” he rasps into your ear.
And that’s all the warning you get. A giant arm wraps fully around your middle, and without any more preamble, one thick finger slides deeply into your sloppy cunt. You scream his name, and he grunts at feeling your walls clench and grip his finger. He has to fight the urge to just slam you down onto his cock now. 
You’re more than slick enough for even a finger of his size to move easily, and so he pumps you, a slow but steady pace, the arm around your waist preventing you from moving overmuch. Your hips didn’t get the memo though, bucking towards the questing digit, but unable to get much friction from the way he’s clamped you down. 
The next time he pulls out, two fingers press back in, stretching your walls. “FUCK!” you shout, the curse involuntary. He laughs, dark and menacing as he pumps slowly back into you, and once the last set of his knuckles press to your folds, he wiggles his fingers. You sob his name, a broken prayer to your dark god as he works your body open.
And then he stops playing. 
His fingers suddenly piston in and out, a rapid pace that fills with air with the lewd squelch of your sopping walls welcoming and releasing his intrusion. His thumb presses to your clit and rubs rapid circles over the throbbing bud, and your orgasm rises so fast that you stop breathing. The pressure builds and builds in your core, an endless wind up until you feel like your body is going to break apart with its force. You lose control of your limbs, thrashing in the circle of his arm. 
And then your world explodes. 
Your vision bursts into white light, your hearing cuts out with a sharp whine, and your awareness of your own body has been reduced to nothing but the raging torrent of pleasure emanating from your cunt. You don’t hear it, but you can feel him growling against your back, the deep reverberation feeling more bestial than man. His fingers don’t stop, and he laughs in triumph as your walls squeeze him so hard that you squirt, your slick splattering along his hand and the floor at his feet. 
You don’t know how long he keeps you flying. When you come back to yourself, you’re sitting sideways on his lap, cradled in the warmth of his arms, your face nestled into his chest. Your muscles ache softly, the sort of ache you usually only feel after a long workout…and you supposed this definitely counted. “G-Gan…?” you rasp, your throat sore from screaming. 
“Ah, you’ve returned,” he says softly. One hand leaves off curling gently around your hip, and he conjures a warm cup of tea. “Here, drink. It will soothe you.” 
You peel your eyes open, and your arms shake a little as you take the cup from him, tiny in his huge hands. He keeps one finger underneath it just in case, and you sip deeply, your eyes closing again as the perfectly warm liquid slides over your sore throat. Warmth seems to cling to the affected areas in your esophagus, and you realize that in short order, your throat feels completely fine. “That’s some great tea,” you murmur as you finish it. 
He chuckles softly. “A favorite blend of mine, with a bit of healing potion mixed in.” The tea cup disappears, and he brushes a fond kiss over your forehead. “How do you feel now?” 
You flush darkly, but you can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips even if you wanted to. “I…I feel wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.” 
He smirks faintly, a smugness to his lips that you very much would like to kiss away. “I would be very surprised if you have, my beautiful one.” 
Your blush doesn’t abate, and for the first time since you realize you were here with Ganondorf, you speak to him as if he were…normal. “You’re going to be so smug about this, aren’t you?” 
He throws his head back and laughs, a full-throated belly laugh that, despite your wanting to stay vaguely annoyed with him, has you grinning. “Oh, insufferably!” He grins, his eyes glinting in mirth as he leans down and playfully bites at your cheek. “But I do believe I’ve earned it.” 
You gasp and laugh at his bite, before pausing. His face is close to yours, his breath fanning over your jaw, warm and somehow…comforting. Here you are, sitting in the lap of the main villain from one of your favorite game series…and there’s no fear. In fact, it’s very much the opposite of fear. And that worries you, a bit. Because Ganondorf has the moniker ‘The King of Evil’ for a reason. 
He watches the happiness dim slightly in your eyes, and one thumb comes up to gently caress over your cheek. “Are you well?” 
You try for a smile. You’re not sure how successful you are. “Oh, um…yes, I’m all right.” 
He snorts, propping his bearded jaw on his fist and giving you an unimpressed look. “You are a bad liar.” 
“Yeah…” 
“What is wrong?” 
“...nothing that I think can be fixed, Ganondorf. I think talking about it would just make you angry and me frustrated…and I don’t want this night to end on a note like that.” 
His lips thin out at your answer. “That is a very diplomatic way of saying nothing at all. Perhaps instead of bedding you, I should hire you to improve public relations.” 
You scowl faintly. “Maybe you should! Maybe that way…” Like you’d predicted, frustrated tears spring to your eyes, and you slide off his lap. Your legs tremble visibly, your body still recovering from the incredible orgasm he’d given you. You pad away from him, adjusting the nightgown to cover yourself once more. 
You hear the chair creek as he stands, and after a moment his hands, warm and wonderful, come to rest on your shoulders. “...you are not of this world,” he rumbles down to you, thumbs gently rubbing circles at the base of your neck that you wish didn’t feel so good, “and as such I have no right to judge you for your opinion on me and what I do. If it were someone from this world, then yes, I would be angry. Furious even. But from what little I have gleaned, your world can see all sides of the story, not just what people are told in hushed whispers over meager fires.” You hear him sigh, and his tone becomes tight. “I…apologize for pushing. You did warn me, after all.” 
It sounds like it takes a lot for him to say the words. Honestly, you’re faintly surprised that he apologized at all. You’re softening, you can feel it, and your lips curl into a resigned, almost amused smile at your own expense. 
You turn in his hands, looking up at him and gently wrapping your own hands around his wrists. “Ganondorf…you must know that I care about you for more than what you can do for me…in bed. I do believe that your…” You fall quiet, and he can see in your eyes the uncertainty of whether or not you should continue. He gives you a gentle nudge, nodding for you to go on. You take a deep breath. “I do believe that your original goal, back in…well, I guess you’d call it the Time Era? Maybe?” You shake your head. “Shit’s complicated.” 
His lips twitch at your vulgarity. “Shit is indeed complicated,” he says wryly, and you can’t help but snort a surprised laugh. 
“Don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to be stern!” His amused smirk widens a hair, and he mimes buttoning his lips. You huff at him, then forge on. “I think your original goal was noble. You wanted a better life for your people, wanted your sisters out of the desert that’s incredibly harsh to live in. But the Power…went to your head. You lost sight of your goal, of your people, and all you wanted was more power and to rule over everything with an iron fist, and it’s just like. What’s the point of that?” Your eyes glint, and he’s surprised to see you becoming angry. “Let’s say you take over everything, rule as a tyrant, great, congrats. What then? What was your plan? Just sit on your throne, hoard the world like a dragon, be cruel for cruelty’s sake? Wouldn’t that get boring after a while? You have everything, there’s nothing left to accomplish, you can’t tell me that would make you happy!” 
He stares down at you, and there’s no emotion in his face whatsoever. It’s quiet for a long moment, before his nostrils flare and there’s an odd look to his eyes. Part of it seems to be approval, oddly enough. He seems impressed with the tenacity of your words at the very least. But the other part is a rising anger…though not, perhaps at you. “...you feel very strongly about this,” he finally murmurs. 
You flush faintly, and offer him a shrug. “Yeah, I do. I grew up with this world, Ganondorf, it’s important to me. You’re…important to me.” Your blush deepens at the confession, and you hold your hands up. “A-And I know, I remember what you said earlier. But yes, I do feel strongly about this.” 
He can’t help a soft, almost wry chuckle, before he snaps his fingers. On one of the tables nearby suddenly appears a small feast, an array of foods that’s already making your mouth water. “Let us eat. You need to recover your strength before we continue…if that is what you wish. As we eat, I will…explain something to you.” 
With a hand on your lower back, he guides you to sit at his right hand. Before you settle down into the richly stained oak chair, he smirks at you and conjures a towel for you to sit on. You flush crimson, and he chuckles darkly, before you both sit and begin to pile food onto your plate. “Partake lightly, my beauty. Too full a stomach will be…uncomfortable for you, to say the least.” 
You shiver faintly. After what he already did to you, you can only imagine…
And so you took mostly fruits and a little meat, staying away from the bread and the pastries, as much as you’d like to indulge in some carbs. You couldn’t pass up the chocolate covered strawberries though. 
Once both your plates are ready, you look at him expectantly. He sighs, lounging in the huge chair, his brow furrowed with the weight of the distant past. “The problem, beautiful one, with coming from a world that only touches mine is that you do not know each reincarnation cycle. These…games of yours, did not cover everything. But how could they? They have not been out long enough to cover the length of time I have been alive in one form or another.” 
He takes a sip of wine, looking down into the swirling burgundy depths. “I have won before.” 
Your eyes widen in shock. 
“Oh yes, I have won several times. The world was mine, to rule as I see fit. The first time, yes, I ruled as the worst tyrant any timeline has ever known.” He huffs at himself. “Even I myself am quite appalled at what I was like, back in ages long since ash. Then, I was killed. 
“The second time I won, I did things…better. I was a difficult king to live under, to be sure, but I was fair. If a petitioner came to me with an actual problem, then I would do my best to see the problem solved.” He smirks faintly. “Whether or not the petitioner appreciated the solution was another story.”
He pauses. “...then, once more I was killed.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, staring into the middle distance. “...the third time that I won is my favorite out of all my lives. I took over after minimal violence, only the royal family and their honor guards were killed. Once I was in place, I began to turn the world into a paradise. Every citizen had access to clean water, healthy food, and medical care. I opened schools that were free to all citizens. I rebuilt the infrastructure that the royal family had let go for far too long. I invested in what’s most important to the long term health of a kingdom: farmers, fishermen, builders, carpenters, and the like. I built up the arts, threw festivals on holy days.” He smiles. “I was able to bring my people out of the desert, to settle in Hyrule. And the people…grew to love me. I became the beloved king that almost everyone was loyal to. They cheered, genuinely, when I passed.” To your surprise, his lips curl up in a tender smile, and his golden eyes soften, buttery warm in the candlelight. “I met my beloved, Amara. She was the woman who ran my stables, who cared for my personal warhorse when I did not have the time. She could have easily been one of my own people…we fell in love, and I made her my Queen, and she bore me several beautiful, strong children. 
“Things were…perfect.” 
His eyes darkened. “Then the princess and the hero were reincarnated, and I was killed once more.” 
You gasp, and he glances at you, to see tears swimming in your eyes, your hands over your mouth. He sighs, reaching over and cupping a huge hand over your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear. 
“It does not matter what I do, beautiful one. I may be a tyrant, or a benevolent ruler, and the cycle will complete anyway.” 
The chair scrapes along the floor as you push away from the table, and Ganondorf makes a sound of surprise as you leap into his arms. He catches you, his eyes wide as you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into hair. “It’s not fair,” you sob. “It’s not fair! You deserve happiness too! You didn’t ask for this!” 
He blinks. He’s not sure how long it’s been since someone cried for him…He softens faintly, and he hugs you back, pressing his cheek to your hair. He doesn’t say anything as he closes his eyes, and he just lets himself enjoy your tight hug…and your empathy. 
Your tears eventually slow, before coming to a full stop. You give a hard sniff, sitting back, Ganondorf’s hands sliding along your back to cup softly over your shoulder blades. “I-I’m sorry, I…I didn’t mean to get so upset.” 
“Think nothing of it,” he murmurs, conjuring a linen handkerchief and gently wiping your face. “Yours is a tender soul.” 
You give a gentle sniffle, and then a wet laugh. “I swear, I won’t cry the whole time I’m here.” 
He chuckles softly as he cleans you up. “Do not make oaths you may not be able to keep, hm?” 
Your eyebrow quirks up at him. “Are you saying you’re gonna make me cry more?” 
His beautiful lips quirk up into a smirk. “Oftentimes after a physical release, people experience a psychological one as well. And you will be having many physical releases.” 
His voice drops down into a deep purr, full of dark humor and promise, and you can feel yourself flushing darkly. “W-Well…that’s not fair.” 
He laughs. “I never claimed to be.” He cocks his head as he considers your plate, how little you ate through his story. “Come, return to your seat. You have not eaten enough to regain your energy, my little lovely.” 
Still blushing, you slide off his lap, and take one step to go back to your seat. But his huge hand suddenly catches your arm, and he tugs you back around. You gasp, stumbling, bracing one hand against his chest as he cups the back of your head and…kisses you. 
He’s kissing you. 
His perfect, beautiful lips are on yours, soft and warm and his touch is almost…tender.
Your heart skips a beat as your eyes widen, before fluttering shut. You make a soft sound into his lips as you begin to return the kiss. He molds your lips together, slow and sensual, even if just a tiny bit out of practice. Your hands raise, cupping over his bearded jaw, and when his thumb strokes so gently over your cheek you part your lips for a sigh. 
He takes advantage immediately, his tongue stroking over your lips before dipping into your mouth. He feels you shiver hard, and he rumbles deep in his chest as his agile tongue licks against your own. 
Then, he pulls away, and you’re left dazed, staring up into his face in wonder. He grins, deeply smug and satisfied, but in his eyes is the very slightest hint of gratitude. 
“There. Now, you may eat.” He gently turns you around, and gives your rear end a pat to get you going. You let out a little squeak and quickly sit, your face red. 
It’s quiet for a while as you and Ganondorf finish your meal. Your blush fades as he concentrates on his food and not you, and you’re left dealing with the surreal feeling of having a meal with the King of Evil. It's…bizarre, and it almost makes you want to laugh. 
Then, a thought has you gasping: if The Legend of Zelda world is real, if he’s real, then what other worlds you thought were only fantasy could be real?
Unfortunately, you inhale while a piece of melon is in your mouth, and you immediately begin choking. “Hrrk!” you say eloquently. His eyes flash to you as you clutch at your throat, and his eyes widen.
“What–?!” He leans over and slaps your back, once, twice, before the melon dislodges and you’re able to swallow it. 
“Gah!” You breath deeply, the air sweet into your briefly abused lungs. “T-Thank you, f-fuck…” 
He pinches the bridge of his nose, but you can see he’s trying hard not to laugh. “I see that I will have to be careful with you, if you cannot even handle a piece of melon in your mouth.” 
You squeak, scandalized. “Ganondorf!”
He does laugh now, a full-throated belly laugh. You protest and pout and finally pick up another bit of melon and throw it at his stupid, smug, beautiful face. It bounces off the tip of his nose and lands onto his own plate, where he looks down at it, bemused.
His golden eyes flash to yours, and you see a deep mischief flicker to life in their depths. “Oh? Does my little pet challenge me?”
“Uh…” is your reply. You quickly analyze his expression: no anger, no darkness (or at least, no more than there ever is), just…humor? “...maybe?” 
He smirks, picking up a grape from the nearby bowl of them and examining it. “You will not win,” he purrs, before flicking his wrist. The grape hits you square between the eyes. 
You stare at him in shock, but then a grin starts to worm it’s way across your lips. “Probably not,” you agree, reaching out and picking up a slice of cake. His eyes widen. ���But it’s gonna be fun anyway!” And you throw it. It smears across his chest and a little way up his neck, and you have the urge to lick it off of him. 
But maybe later, because all hell breaks loose.
The food flies, and both of your laughter bounces off the walls with it. You’re both quickly filthy, smeared in various sauces and desserts, and though he gets you far more than you get him, he doesn’t come out of the fight undecorated. The sight of a slice of banana stuck onto one of the spikes on his diadem has you laughing so hard you fall over, and he shows no mercy, taking the opportunity to drop half a pie directly down onto your face. 
You splutter through the dessert, and he squats down, pushing the pie off your skin, his lips in a wide grin. “Surrender?” he asks, eyes sparkling in amusement as he wipes it from around your eyes. 
“Yes! Yes, I surrender,” you giggle, licking at the cherry pie filling on your lips. 
He leans down before you can get it all and kisses you deeply, suddenly, and you gasp as his tongue licks away the sweet dessert that you hadn’t gotten to yet. You moan into his mouth, opening for him and licking against his questing muscle. He growls softly, his hands cupping the sides of your head, and even upside down and covered in food his kiss is a thing of beauty. 
All too soon he pulls away, his eyes darkened with desire, and he licks his lips. “Dinner is much more delicious when I eat it off of you,” he purrs, and you flush faintly. 
But you surprise him, turning and rising up onto your knees to swipe your tongue over the cake and frosting smeared on his massive shoulder. “I could say the same,” you reply, your voice husky with desire. 
One massive arm suddenly wraps around your waist, pressing you hard against him. His other hand cups the back of your head, and he kisses you deeply once more, devouring your lips as though he’d never eaten something so decadent in his life. 
You groan loudly, kissing back, doing your best to keep up with his passion. Soon enough, he stands, bringing you with him, and begins walking. Your legs wrap around his waist for support, and he growls again, the feeling of such a dangerous sound vibrating into your chest making you whimper. 
You expect to be laid down in the bed. Instead, he walks with you through a door, and you’re dropped suddenly…into a hot bath. You surface immediately, spluttering as water pours down your body, the silken nightgown immediately sodden. You hear the rustle of fabric, and when you push the wet hair out of your face, you look up to see Ganondorf standing there…completely naked. 
Your jaw goes slack as your eyes drink in his body. Powerful muscle ripples along his limbs. His forearms, legs, chest, and crotch all sport a faint dusting of red hair on his darkly tanned skin. A gnarled scar rips through the center of his chest, looking at the very least rather uncomfortable. Many other scars mar his limbs, making him look, somehow, even more dangerous than he already does. 
Then your eyes fix on his groin, and all the moisture in your mouth heads south. 
His cock is…proportionate to his size, the head darker than the base, with two pronounced veins that run side by side on the top, along the slight upward curve. Because he’s sporting half an erection after everything that happened earlier. 
You swallow thickly. Your apprehension must have shown on your face, because he chuckles softly and wraps a huge hand around himself. “There is no need for fear, my beautiful one,” he all but purrs, golden eyes glinting. “I am well versed in sex with people smaller than me. That is, after all, most of them.” 
You want to laugh, but before you could he starts walking down into the tub. 
The tub itself is huge, inset into the floor, made out of black marble threaded with gold. If it had been any sort of different situation, you would have taken the time to marvel at its beauty. But all your attention is on the man who walks right up you, smirking deeply. 
His presence is overwhelming. You feel tiny, a speck before his mountain, and yet…the way he’s looking at you, desire beginning to burn in those golden depths once more, the appreciation of seeing the silk nightdress cling to your form…you begin to feel a little…beautiful. You’ve never been wanted before. 
Not like this. 
“Take that off,” he rumbles, almost growls. “I greatly enjoy it on you, but I will rip it off if I must.” 
Your heart is hammering with a combination of excitement and nerves, but you quickly pull the sodden, now heavy fabric off and toss it away to land with a wet splat on the floor. 
Fully naked before him for the first time, you watch as his eyes roam your form, taking their time, looking at every detail. You flush darkly under the scrutiny, your mind conjuring up all the flaws he could analyze, all the perceived imperfections in your body that you weren’t happy about, and you look away. You don’t want to watch his face fall. 
A gentle finger presses to your skin, and though his touch is almost tender, his strength cannot be denied. Your face is turned back to him, and it seems like the passion in his gaze softens a bit. “You are beautiful,” he says simply. But the conviction in his tone, the matter-of-fact way he says it, like saying ‘It’s Tuesday’ or ‘the sky is blue’...he says it as fact. Your beauty was never a question for him. 
You couldn’t stop your grateful smile if you tried. 
He smirks faintly back, then sits down and makes a motion behind you. You turn to spy soap, shampoo, and some sort of hair oil lined up neatly, along with a washcloth. “You made a mess, my little pet,” he purrs. “It is time you cleaned it.” 
Your eyes widen. Oh, to get your hands on him like this…you nod, and you bid him to lean back. He does, his eyes never leaving your face, and an amused light enters his eyes as he watches you frown at his diadem. “How do you…?”
He reaches up, and with a deft flick of his fingers (and gifting you a wonderful play of muscles in his shoulders) the diadem comes free. He sets it carefully down on the side of the tub, then looks to you expectantly. 
Your surprised by what sort of difference just removing the diadem makes. He’s always regal looking, but right now, without the gold and large topaz on his brow, he seems a little more…normal. On your level. You can’t help but lean down and brush a kiss to his bare forehead.
He blinks in surprise at the affectionate little touch, but then he smiles softly, gentle creases in the corners of his beautiful eyes. Without a word he gently wraps one arm around your hips, giving you a brief squeeze, before dropping his limb and closing his eyes, clearly expecting you to get to work. 
And so you do. You wet down his thick hair, working the shampoo through it, making sure that all the bits of food are gone. His fiery hair darkens to almost burgundy in the water, and your touch turns reverent. “You’re very beautiful too,” you murmur, stroking your fingers through his sudsy hair. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs, clearly enjoying the wash and scalp massage you’re giving him. You smile, enjoying the thought of bringing him some form of pleasure. His face is relaxed, any tension gone…it makes you happy. 
You rinse his hair clean, then pick up the bottle of oil. You nibble your lip, never having used something like this before, but you figure it can’t be much different from conditioner. “Could you…I mean, I would like a comb to work this through your hair.” 
He lifts his hand and a comb appears, sturdy but also golden. “Will this suffice?” he asks, not opening his eyes. 
“Yes, that’s perfect,” you reply, gently taking it from him. You spend a good deal of time making sure the oil reaches every strand, and he’s quiet, just enjoying your ministrations. “Does this get left in for a while?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re meant to wash it out immediately. 
“Yes. I usually rinse it out once I am done with the rest of my wash,” he murmurs. 
“Okay.” You set the comb aside, twisting the mass of his hair up and out of the way. Then you pause. “Um…what about your beard? Does that get the same treatment?” 
“Yes. Go ahead.” 
You do so, using the shampoo and then the oil on his beard. No one you’ve been with had this kind of facial hair before. You found it quite intimate to take care of him like this, your heart thrumming in your chest. 
It doesn’t help that his eyes have opened, watching you work. 
Once his beard is taken care of, you grab the bar of soap and the washcloth. There’s a gentle scent to the lather, sandalwood and spices, without being overwhelming. It’s extremely pleasant, and you can’t wait to smell it on his skin. The thought makes you flush faintly, and he chuckles, curving a hand over your hip and making your blush deepen. 
“What thoughts run through your mind, my beautiful one?” he rumbles, his thumb stroking over the small of your back. 
“I-It’s just…this soap smells very nice,” you explain, dropping your gaze shyly as you start scrubbing the cake from his shoulder. “I-I’m just…expecting it to smell really good on you.” 
“Is that so?” 
“Y-Yeah.” 
He makes an approving noise. “It is adorable how flustered you get over the sensual, my little one. There is no shame in such thinking–in fact, I’m pleased that you enjoy this scent. I shall keep using it, just for you.” 
“Oh!” You flush, but you can’t stop the smile from curving your lips. “Thank you.” You swallow hard. “Y-You could…choose one you’d like on me, if you want.” 
He smirks. “What makes you think I have not already done so?” He suddenly leans forward, pressing his nose to the hollow of your throat, and inhales deeply. “Mmm…” He lets out a rumbling purr of pleasure. 
You gasp, your flesh raising in goosebumps at the touch. He hums at your touch, his other hand joining the first around your hip, gripping your curves and giving a soft squeeze. You groan, the washcloth coming to a stop on his skin, quite thoroughly distracted from your job. 
His lips brush over your pulse point, once, twice, the touches leaving you trembling. Then he pulls away, eyes flashing molten in the low candlelight. “Come on now,” he purrs, a dark delight in his voice for getting you so flustered. “You have a job to do.” 
Swallowing thickly, most of the moisture in your mouth having moved south, you start scrubbing him once more. The food stains slowly disappear as you cleanse his skin, and you can feel his gaze on you the entire time. 
The mess finally clean, he plucks the cloth from you and shifts, sitting up more fully. His arm suddenly swipes around your waist, massive and thick, and you’re pulled onto his lap with a gasp. You feel his breath puff over the side of your neck, you feel his lips brush just under your ear, and you tremble as you sit on his massive thigh. “Your turn,” he rasps, his voice rumbling into your back. 
You’re not sure you’re going to survive this. 
His huge hand cups the back of your head, and he leans you down, holding you steady as your hair dips below the water. His other hand strokes through the wet strands, getting out as much of the food particles as he can. He’s…actually shockingly gentle with you, making sure he doesn’t pull too much. The feel of your head cradled in his palm…you exhale slowly, and for the first time that wasn’t because you were boneless from an orgasm, you can feel yourself fully relax. 
He smiles as he feels the release of your tension. “Good girl,” he purrs softly, and you smile and close your eyes, trusting him to take care of you. 
And take care of you he does. He washes your hair and gives it the same oil treatment you did for him. Then he scrubs the food from your skin, rinsing you clean, and all the while you just relax into him. 
That is, until he’s finished rinsing you clean. 
The oil is washed out, the suds left floating in the water, and he carries you out of the tub. You can feel his cock, fully hard against your ass as he doesn’t even bother with a towel. He just carries you into the bedroom, still dripping, and lays you down on the edge of the bed. “G-Ganondorf, we should–”
“Quiet,” he replies, his voice commanding. You fall silent as he gently pulls your legs apart, his eyes fixed on your pussy. You flush darkly, and he can feel your thigh muscles push against his hands, as if trying to close your legs. He smirks, his gaze piercing yours for a moment. “Do you seek to deny me the sight of your desire, little one?” he asks, almost laughing. “My fingers have already been inside you, have already sent your body soaring. What is left to feel so modest about?” 
Your words are locked behind your embarrassment, and so you hide your face behind your hands instead. 
He does laugh, now, a full-throated and husky sound that dances wonderfully over your nerves. “Very well. Hide if you wish, but that will not stop me from enjoying the fruits of your body…” 
You expect him to dive right in after a statement like that, but you don’t feel anything. He just looks at you for a long moment, and though you’re hiding, you can almost feel his eyes on you. 
His thumbs press to your outer lips suddenly, and you inhale sharply at the touch. Slowly, almost tenderly, he rubs them up and down, stroking the outside of your pussy and building the flames of your desire. His skin is calloused, but it feels divine on such a sensitive spot. He rubs all the way up, caressing through the soft curls of hair, then all the way back down, and as he moves up again he gently pulls your lips apart. 
“Such sweet petals,” he purrs, now moving his touch to the insides of your outer lips. You gasp his name, and he sees your entrance twitch as you clench around nothing. “Your body wants to be filled with me…do not worry, my little beauty. We will get there.” 
He mimics his previous motions, his thumbs rubbing up, and this time the very tips of his thumbs brush ever so gently over each side of your clit. A jolt snaps against your nerves, and you cry out, bucking up against his touch. “Lay still,” he grumbles. You try your best, settle yourself back against the wet silk underneath you as his thumbs trace their way back down. 
As he draws them back up, this time you feel his skin is more slick. You’ve started leaking for him, your desire coating his thumbs and aiding in his journey, and this time his touch on your clit is less harsh and more delicious. You whimper in pleasure, your hands curling into the sheets at your side as he groans softly. 
“Your nectar smells delicious, little one. Heady, but delicate. Oh, I will enjoy drinking from your spring…” 
Your toes curl at his words, desire making your skin flush. He’s being almost poetic, and you wonder at it, wonder if this is how he becomes when he’s enjoying his lover. You definitely don’t mind. 
But then he leans forward and flutters his tongue in your folds, and your brain shuts down any thinking at all. 
This…him…is the best thing you’ve ever felt in your life. Soft, slick, thorough is his questing tongue as he laps slowly through your folds. He groans, his voice a rumble through your flesh, and your legs turn to water, your bare feet pressing to his shoulder blades. He hums at the feel and continues his slow, exquisite torture, pausing here or there to suckle on your lips, to run his nose through your damp curls. Every nerve on your cunt alights at his touch, arousal threatening to swallow you whole, and you mewl desperately, a soft, broken sound that makes his hands tighten on your thighs. You’re sure that later there will be finger-shaped bruises…but the thought simply makes you shiver. 
Your hands leave the sheets, reaching down to curl through his hair, and he groans softly, giving you a sudden soft suckle onto your clit as a reward. You cry out, your hips trying to arch off the bed, but his strength isn’t to be denied, and you stay right there. Right where he wants you. 
His clever tongue dips down now, pressing against your weeping entrance, lapping at your slick eagerly, greedily, as though you were the finest wine. He curls it up, firming it, pressing it into you centimeters at a time before pulling out, teasing you with what you could have but never giving you what you want. It swirls and licks and he groans and growls and you are melting. 
Your clit aches for him, the pressure enough to nearly reduce you to babbling pleas. Never in your life have you felt this aroused, this desperate for someone else. “Please,” you beg, your eyes hazy with lust as you look down at the god between your legs. 
His golden eyes flick to you, meeting your desire-drunk gaze, the corners crinkling in amusement…
…and then he shoves his tongue inside you as far as he can. 
You shriek wordlessly, one leg kicking out, the other heel drumming on his back. His lips are firm to your flesh, nose pressing hard to your clit, and that tongue, that tongue, is writhing deep in your channel, stroking along your walls, fucking you as his fingers did earlier. He licks at your insides, drinking down your gushing slick, and all the while his nose rubs on your clit at his motions, grinding and brushing in equal measures. You can feel your orgasm lighting deep in your belly, the swirling pleasure soaring higher and higher, and you think he’ll stop, to draw out the torture but he doesn’t, he keeps going, feeling the sudden fluttering of your walls, growling and redoubling his efforts and his sounds are muffled into your cunt as the pressure begins to crack…
You come, and you come and you come and you come and he bellows into your flesh as he feels your walls squeeze hard around his tongue.
Your body is still twitching in orgasm as he pulls his tongue out of you, and he pulls you up, your legs up around his shoulders as he looms over you. His cock is suddenly nestled between your thighs, pressed tight against your drenched cunt, and his arms wrap around your legs, squeezing them gently together. He groans deeply at your body surrounding everything but his tip, and he begins to move, dragging the underside of his cock through your slick, making the glide easier. 
He speeds up, his hips slapping against your ass, and you cry out as there’s a near constant drag on your throbbing clit. “There we go,” he all but growls, pressing his lips to the side of your calf muscle. “Drench me in you, get me nice and ready…” Then he huffs a laugh and snaps his fingers. You feel a bit of coolness at your throat, and he smirks. “Good thing one of us is not lust drunk…” 
You flush darkly. “T-Thank you for remembering,” you murmur, curling your hand around the triangle charm that’s quickly warming from your body heat. 
For a split second, his expression softens, and he nods in response. 
Then he pushes your legs apart and guides his tip to your sopping entrance. The sheer size of him is so intimidating that you feel yourself tense, and he pauses. “Now, this will not do,” he rumbles, and his hands rub gently at your thighs. “You must relax for me, beautiful one. I promise, even someone of my size will not hurt as long as you stay pliable.” 
“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur, flushing darkly. “I…I’ve never had anything even half your size.” 
He smirks faintly, eyes glinting down at you, spots of gold in his shadowed face. “Do not apologize for what you feel.” He looks thoughtfully down at you, then chuckles and lowers you back down to the bed. “Well, I suppose I will just have to spend more time opening your body for me.” 
He shifts, laying down near the head of the huge mattress, and he reaches out, wrapping one hand around your bicep (his fingers meet around your arm, and a thrill runs through you once more at how deliciously small you feel). He pulls you up to him; you let out a slight laugh of exhilaration, and he smirks in amusement. He presses your back to his chest, his arm curled around your waist so he may cup and knead your tits, and his right hand slides down your thigh. 
He pulls your leg up and tucks your foot behind his knee. You feel his fingers brush over your curls, then down over your lips, wet with your own dew. You choke on a gasp as one thick finger presses deep into your sopping heat. “Relax, little one,” he all but coos into your ear, his beard scraping wonderfully against your neck. “I have you. Trust me to take care of your body, hm?” 
You shiver hard, but you take a deep breath, feeling yourself shift around his finger. You let it out slowly, and with it you work on releasing all the nervous tension in your limbs. He’s patient with you, nibbling and kissing at your ear and neck, letting you work on relaxing yourself. Only once he feels your walls are gently gripping him instead of clenching does he speak. “Good girl,” he purrs, and he makes you whimper. “Stay just like that.” 
Slowly, his finger pulls out, then pushes back in. Even just his index finger is a lot, much thicker than your own. But this is quite doable, and after only a few moments he’s moving easily in you. “Here is a second. You have taken two before, little one, you will be fine.” 
A second finger pushes in, and you groan deeply at the gentle stretch. He can feel your walls tense for a second, but he’s patient, and before too long you relax once more around him. “There you go…my good girl,” he praises, and you all but melt against him. “How do you feel, my beauty?” 
“Really good,” you murmur, and he feels you shivering gently. “I-I feel…full.” 
He hums in amusement, and you make a strangled sort of sound in the back of your throat as he suddenly wiggles his fingers in you. “Not nearly full enough…yet…” 
He works you open, slowly, playing your body like an instrument he’s familiar with, knowing just how to warm up your strings to make you sing. His fingers are slow, gentle as they rock in you, and after a few minutes of this he begins to make a scissoring motion. You gasp and clutch at him, turning your head to press your face to his chest. 
“Shh, I have you,” he soothes, giving your breast a gentle squeeze with his left hand. “You are doing so well for me, little one…” 
The praise makes you feel all warm once again. His thumb gently rubs your clit again, making you gasp his name, hips twitching. He chuckles softly, and then, on the next thrust in, he presses his ring finger in with his middle and index. 
Your heart about stops. Three of those massive digits is more than you’ve ever taken in your life. Your walls twitch and squeeze hard around his fingers. He growls, nipping down on your shoulder, his hand still for now. “So tight, my beauty…we must get you relaxed.” 
All you can feel, all you can focus on, is the feeling between your legs. You’re so full, so achingly full…you pant softly, your eyes hazy as you feel your walls squeezing him, rippling gently around his fingers. He feels you trembling against him; you feel him smile against your shoulder.
Then his thumb starts rubbing over your clit, small, soft circles, and his name gets caught in your throat as you make a strangled cry and come. There was no warning, no build up–you’re so full that the sudden pressure, the sudden hard squeeze around his digits at the touch on your clit, forces you to come. You writhe against him, each squeeze of your walls around his thick fingers prolonging your orgasm, his thumb keeping you high. He’s growling softly, and as you get lost in the haze of pleasure, he pulls his fingers out and presses the tip of his cock in. 
He growls something in a language you don’t recognize, but you know a curse when you hear one. And frankly, you agree: the stretch he’s giving you, even after preparing you like this, is incredible.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he pushes into you, inch by inch, until he bottoms out. You’re gasping his name, soft little puffs of breath, and he can feel a small bite of pain where your nails have dug into his thigh. It only makes him growl once more in approval. You feel impaled, you feel so thoroughly full of him that you don’t think you’ll ever be empty again. 
“You feel…exquisite,” he rasps, leaning down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear. “You have all of me you can fit, my little beauty…I knew you could do it…” 
“G-Ganondorf,” you gasp again. You press one hand above where he’s filling you full, and you can feel him, feel his firmness inside you. You whimper. 
“I know…do not worry, we are going to stay just like this for a little while,” he purrs, nipping playfully at your ear, at the side of your neck. “I do not want to hurt you. We must get you used to me, hm?” 
You can only nod, quivering against his chest. He makes soothing sounds as you wait, his fingers stroking over your skin, almost delicate touches that serve to make you shiver and twitch around him. But you’re relaxing, melting back into his ministrations, and slowly you feel the death grip your walls have on him easing. 
“There…that is much better, my lovely,” he praises. “Now, stay nice and still for me.”
Gently, he rocks his hips forward. It’s less of a thrust and more of a roll, but the drag he gets against your walls, the way you can almost feel those veins, feel the edges of his cock-head pressing and rubbing against you…curses fall from your mouth, and your hand scrabbles at his thigh. 
He groans your name, slowly rocking and grinding his hips into yours, until he’s pulling out an inch and pushing back in, another inch, another, and he’s speeding up, unable to resist the pull of your body on his lust. Before too long, he’s pulling out to his tip and thrusting back in, snapping his hips, and you’re crying out, his name a prayer on your lips as the pleasure scours you from the inside out. 
“Come with me,” he growls–no, commands into your ear. “You are going to come with me, lovely. Let us peak together…” His fingers find your clit once more, rubbing rapid, tight circles over the oversensitive bud. 
You shriek his name, your hips jerking, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to move towards him or away. “C-Can’t, c-can’t, ‘s too much!” 
“You can, and you will,” he growls, not letting up. He speeds up, both his fingers and his hips, fucking into you with barely controlled strength. “Come, little one, come with me!” 
You’re helpless but to obey. 
You shriek his name as you’re flung into an orgasm that once again has your vision whiting out, your hearing cutting off with a sharp whine. You lose control of your limbs, thrashing against him, as he roars at feeling your walls absolutely strangling his cock. His cum pours into you in thick waves, and you can almost feel the pulses against your walls. Your slick and his cum are fucked out of you, all but splashing over you both, and the feeling has you whining as the tail end of your orgasm begins to fade, leaving you absolutely boneless on the bed.
The only sound for long moments is the nearby gentle snapping of the fireplace, and the ragged panting from the both of you. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly softening in your walls, and when he slips out you wine softly. He chuckles, a low sound that’s still fairly breathless. “Are you…able to speak?” he asks, and you feel him shifting on the bed behind you, his massive hand curling gently over your hip. 
“Mmph,” you say in response. Your limbs feel heavy, weighed down by the force of so much pleasure in your body at once. 
“Are you in pain?” he asks, and you feel him shifting you, checking you over just in case. 
“No,” you mumble. “Well…a bit sore…but you’re huge, so…makes sense…” 
He chuckles again. “Fair enough. That will fade.” He stands, and when you peel your eyes open you’re a little gratified to see his legs wobble faintly. He notices your grin and huffs faintly. “It has been some time since I had pleasure like that, little one. Do not give me that look.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, but it’s obvious you’re trying not to laugh. 
He tries to look stern, but he can’t help the faint smile that breaks out anyway. “You are lucky I like you,” he replies, and pulls you up and into his arms. He walks into the bathroom, setting you back down into the hot water of his tub, and you flush as, for a moment, the water turns cloudy around you. He smirks, golden eyes glinting in amusement. 
He gets you cleaned up, for which you’re grateful because your limbs are still like jelly. Once you’re clean and dry, he snaps his fingers in front of his bed, and the sheets are clean. “Handy,” you murmur, your cheek pressing to his shoulder. “Literally.” 
He snorts. “Did you just seriously make a pun?” 
You grin against his skin. “Maybe.” 
“I am rethinking my fondness for you,” he grumbles, but he’s still gentle as he gets the both of you under the covers. 
“Nah, you like me,” you chirp, already feeling sleep tugging at you. 
“Hmph. Hush, my beautiful one, you need your rest.” You can hear the promise in his voice as he adds, “I am definitely not done with you…” 
Too far into slumber’s pull to answer, the last thought that crosses your mind is: Good…because neither am I.
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cha-melodius · 5 months ago
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💙 For the ficlet game! 😘
💙 drunken kiss / tipsy (warghlbargl somehow this got to be 618 words do not perceive me. read all the kiss ficlets)
It wasn’t that Alex was against wine tours as a concept. He’s a bourbon and beer guy, and can think of plenty things he’d rather be doing on one of his few days off other than being carted around Long Island in a limo with nine strangers. He’d promised June that they’d do whatever she wanted for her 29th birthday, though, and the fall foliage and wineries tour was what she’d chosen. Most of the other people who’d signed up were women, including a group of four older women wearing t-shirts emblazoned with Sexy at 60! and three college girls who giggled every time he looked at them.
The last two tour participants were a pair of men who could not be more different—one bold and bright, with turquoise hair, pink sunglasses and a million-dollar smile, and the other quiet and reserved, wearing khakis and a simple blue button-down rolled to his elbows. His smile was smaller, rarer, but there was something about it that drew Alex in, that made him want to know more. June, Nora, and Pez—the bold one—had become thick as thieves immediately, which meant that Henry—the quiet one—had been pulled into their circle as well.
Four wineries in, they’re all tipsy and feeling good. Henry’s smiles have gotten broader and more frequent, partly from the wine but also because Alex has been entertaining himself by trying to pull as many of those smiles out of him as possible. The rush he gets when he receives one that’s wide enough to show Henry’s gums and crinkle the sides of his eyes is dangerously addictive, actually.
At the fifth winery, Alex sits across from Henry and crosses his legs under the table, reaching his foot out to slide along Henry’s calf. Just a brush at first, but expression on Henry’s face—his eyes darkening as his tongue darts out to wet wine-stained lips—emboldens Alex the next time.
Then Henry abruptly pushes his chair back and stands up. “Pardon me, I think I need some air,” he says, even though they’re sitting outside.
No one else bats an eye, and Alex would think he fucked up except Henry gives him a Look that is quite clearly an invitation. Alex isn’t entirely sure what excuse he gives, only that moment’s later he’s following Henry into a grape-leaf covered pergola. The moment he turns the corner he’s being grabbed by the arm and pressed up against the a wall, and then Henry’s inches away.
“I’m not usually one for doing this drunk, but Christ, you’re making it very hard not to kiss you,” Henry murmurs, his wine-soaked breath washing over Alex’s lips.
“Good thing I’m just tipsy,” Alex says, though that’s maybe stretching it. His head is swimming a little and he feels warm all over, though that might be the Henry of it all. He twines a hand in the front of Henry’s shirt and pulls him closer, until his body is pressed against Alex’s. Still, Henry hesitates. “C’mon, sweetheart. Make an exception.”
Henry laughs and nudges his face closer, brushing his nose against Alex’s. “Well. You are exceptional, love.”
Alex might whimper, but thank fuck Henry closes the gap between them before he makes a complete fool of himself. Henry’s lips are soft and he tastes like wine and fancy cheese, and Alex lets himself get lost in it for an amount of time he chooses not to think about.
Finally Henry pulls away, though not far. “Should we get back to the tasting?”
Alex slides a hand onto his waist, holding firm. “In a minute. I think I’ve had enough wine. What about you?”
In answer, Henry kisses him again.
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360iris · 2 years ago
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Hello my darling Loeeeee
May I request a Drabble/fic/anything of any of the moon boys + one bed trope and cuteness ensues 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 SFW or NSFW, up to you and whatever you feel 💞💞💞
Xoxo
Précis | marc spector x reader
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1.2k word count. Thank you for requesting Mona-aaa!! This was really fun to write, and I definitely made myself laugh a little harder than I maybe should’ve. This m/c is so awkward, and a bit of a weird, like me.
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A/N: I know it seems like I’ve been gone on a two to three month writing hiatus, but I promise you guys I’ve been occupied with getting a beast of a Steven Grant one-shot done. The only hint I’m giving is that it was so, so, so close to making it to 20k— In the meantime, please forgive me with this little nugget.
I feel unbelievably rusty so this is also the perfect time to announce that my inbox requests are open and anon is an option again~~~
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Marc pushes into the motel room, face stern and turning graver by the second as he takes in the one queen-sized bed room with no couch and one, singular sitting chair.
“That asshole.” He grumbles, attempting to pull back the recliner only to discover it went back a maximum of five inches. “I asked for two beds, you heard me ask for two.”
You sway in place by the entrance, body weak and bruised from the day you’d spent running around Cairo. Currently too distracted by your heavy eyelids and the pain in your aching muscles to care about such a small inconvenience.
“With what little Arabic I understand, I definitely heard you say ‘two’. That’s about it though.” You reply mid stretch, twisting your upper body in hopes of relieving some knot or unseen string of pain.
He releases the back of the chair, done with attempting to make it go further than it was capable of. “I’m going to talk to him.”
“Whatever you do, don’t get us kicked out. I will unleash an unfathomable world of fury, the likes of which you have never seen if I have to walk anymore today.”
“You’re threatening me?” He asks, turning from the door, arching a thick brow.
“Threats are outdated, that was a promise. A declaration of war if you cross me and my joints.” You clarify sleepily, not much of an intimidating threat to anyone, let alone him as you unlaced your shoes. Perched on the edge of the recliner.
“Uh-huh.” He snorts with the smallest sliver of humor. “I’ll talk to him, even though I should shove my foot up his—“
“Language.” You chide, arching a brow at him. “Remember, diplomatic mindset. Or else it’ll be me you’ll have to worry about.”
“Shut up.” He says with a roll of his eyes, the door clicking behind him just as you go to reply—
“Uh, rude!”
In his absence and finally free of your shoes, you close the distance between you and the bed. Face planting into the dark tones of the intricately designed duvet. Your eyes shutting contently before you even make contact with the plush mattress.
For as much of an inconvenience as it was, at least it turned out to be comfortable.
Marc returns three and half hours later, stirring you awake as he enters the room with a see-through plastic bag filled with stacked styrofoam containers.
Rubbing your eyes, you move just enough to look at the clock on the wall before turning your attention back to him, cheek pressing back into the duvet.
“Did you check that for bed bugs?” He asks evenly, pointing at the mattress.
“No.” You answer with a wide yawn. “But nothing’s bit me so far, I’ll count that as a win.”
“Manager was a no-go, got takeout instead. Move over.” Marc nudges your leg, making you take up less of the bed you’d been sprawled out against for the last few hours— you scoot over without fuss.
“I don’t know why you cared so much, we’ve had to share much smaller.” Your words come out mumbled, burying your face into your folded arms as he lays down beside you.
“I thought you never wanted to talk about that.” He asks quietly, resting on his back, head tilting to look at you.
“I never said that.”
“You never said anything about it actually.” He retorts. “We just… never talked about it.”
“Talked about our feelings? When have we ever?” You snort. Getting anything out of Marc regarding any personal matter was akin to pulling teeth. You would’ve guessed it physically pained him to acknowledge he was even capable of emotion.
“About us having sex.” His eyes are trained on your face, not diverting an inch as he speaks the words. Your jaw slackens, eyes flitting to literally anything else in the room but him. “See. You’re doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Exactly what I thought you would. You actually cringed just now.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“Look, I say that I didn’t. But it’s got less to do with you, and more to do with… I don’t know. It’s just weird, okay?”
“We’ve had sex. I’ve literally been inside of you,” —your face scrunches for a split second. “and you’re saying you’re weirded out by the word? You just did it again.”
“Don’t judge me! And I didn’t do anything, you just didn’t have to say it like that!” Your brows knit defensively, lips fixing into a pout as you begin to move away from him. “You can’t do feelings, I get grossed out by a word. I think one is inherently harder to deal with than the other.
He stops you from getting far, extending an arm around your waist. “Well now it sounds like you’re the one judging me.” He muses, a smirk working its way onto his face despite himself.
Eyes narrowing, you force your face to cooperate. “Don’t make me smile, Marc Spector. I’m mad at you.”
“For what?” He asks, leaning in closer.
“For bothering me while I’m tired! Some of us common folk still experience fatigue.” You tilt your head away as he leans in to kiss you, stopping him by placing your fingers over his mouth, your arms squished against his chest from how close he’s holding you to him.
“You wouldn’t have to do anything.” He speaks his offer against your fingers before grabbing your hand, tenderly kissing the tips in a way that makes you faintly whine. “Could take care of you like this.”
When you don’t reply, he takes it as leave to continue, extending a hand to rub the backs of your thighs. “You were so wet for me last time, baby. Bet you’re soaked for me today too.” Your thighs attempt to clench but he stops you, pulling your legs open just enough so that you have no way to relieve the tension gradually building from his words alone.
“You gonna let me feel you?” He asks, as though he didn’t already have you fitted against him. His left arm wrapped around your shoulders, effectively tucking you into his side while his right hand was wedged between your legs, propping you open.
“Hurry up.” You urge impatiently, resting your head against his chest.
With your hands fitted under your chin, you look down to where he wordlessly pops open your shorts. The older man deftly pulls down the zipper before slipping his large hand down the front of your undies.
Your lips part, releasing a quiet gasp as the rough pads of his fingers massage your clit, the firm drag of his touch causing you to ease against him.
“That’s it, huh, sweet girl?” He mumbles into the top of your head as he finds a steady pace. The rare sentiment making you keen. “Right there? That’s where you like it, baby?”
“Mhm- Marc.”
Lifting his left hand from your shoulder he coaxes you to look at him, thumb brushing against your cheek. “Want to look at you.” Is all he mumbles as his fingers trail down to your entrance, soaking up the way your lips part, brows knit and eyes begin to glaze over as he slips two digits inside of you.
“You become so nice when I have you like this. Love being full of me, don’t you? How’s it make you feel?”
“Good, hah- fuck.”
“Yeah?” He asks, curling his fingers in just the right way that you’re moaning audibly, body momentarily thrumming from how he works your walls until they’re soft and malleable. Finding your g spot and focusing on it exclusively. “Tell me more.”
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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago
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getaway car (r.c)
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summary: You and Rafe, who are alike in more ways than you think, get kicked out of class together.
pairing: rafe x reader
wc: 1.8k
tags/warnings: mean!kook!reader, bullying i guess?, highschool!au, swearing
requests
nav/masterlists
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This particular morning, something in the cool morning breeze woke you up at four am. Wide awake. By the time you paced into your English classroom at 8:01, your uniform perfectly fit (besides the rolled-up waistband on your skirt that had previously landed at a horribly unflattering place above your knees) and an iced coffee in hand, you’d already had enough of the day.
You’d spent the first hour of your day in an everything shower and doing your makeup just the way you liked, all for one boy in hopes you could pass him in the hall and grab his attention. Who was absolutely not Rafe Cameron.
“Oh wow, Y/N- are those fake eyelashes?” The always annoying, better-than-thou attitude having girl who sits in front of you, Ally, asks as you approach your desk.
“Obviously. Same ones I wear everyday.” You reply sarcastically, slamming your stuff down on your desk so it yanks on her hair that she has placed on it. “Dumb bitch.” You mutter under your breath, earning a chuckle from the boys sitting next to you and the seat behind that one- Kelce and Rafe.
“Y/N, let me see!” Your friend who sits behind you says, tapping on your shoulder. You smile as you turn around, avoiding eye contact with either of the boys who were laughing at your comment a moment earlier.
“Oh they’re lovely! They look so soft too! What brand are they?” Bella asks, smiling genuinely and ignoring the scoff the girl in front of you lets out. Bella is the friends with everyone, sickeningly sweet girl, who’s been your best friend since you met at soccer tryouts in freshman year. She had stepped on your toe in her cleats, and stopped the drill to insist you step on her foot back so you were even because she felt so guilty. Obviously, you refused and laughed it off. Everyone loves her- and she’s kind to everyone, no matter what. You don’t know why she’s friends with you, but you balance each other out beautifully.
“Juvias Place.” You reply, fluttering your lashes at her and resting your hand under your chin. “They’re my fave- I’m probably on my eighth pair. And! And they’re like fifteen bucks! Isn’t that crazy?” You grin, letting go of the clearly negative comment the girl in front of you was making.
“Oh wow- yeah that’s crazy.” Rafe cuts in sarcastically and you shoot him a glare.
“Right?” Bella giggles, clearly not getting that he was making fun of you guys. “That’s a really good deal!” She smiles at him, which he returns with a nod, flipping his expression once her eyes land on him. Rafe had always liked Bella as well. He was making fun of her, yes, but he didn’t have the heart to let her know that if she didn’t pick up on the social cues. She just sees the best in everyone all the time, in the way that he doesn’t, and you also don’t.
Sometimes it frustrates you, the way he waves at her in the halls or shouts her name across the field when either of our teams are practicing, (not because you like him or anything, gross) because you know he either A. is making fun of her or B. has bad intentions, which you doubt because he’s never laid a hand on her- as much of an asshole as he is.
You just hate the idea of anyone taking advantage of her kindness. And it’s not like you’re a particularly mean person, but with Bella around, you try and fill that role to protect her. You’re scared that one day she’ll need it, and you’re not afraid to throw hands with anyone who does her wrong.
Class starts and it’s clear that the teacher doesn’t feel like talking this morning, because she just says to discuss the readings in partners that you got to pick yourselves. You instantly turn in your seat to face Bella’s desk, crossing your legs on the chair. “Yay! Okay, we were meant to read chapters 5-10 for today…” Bella starts, pulling the novel from her bag and opening it up.
“Mind giving me the run down? After practice last night I was swamped.” You say, smiling at her hopefully.
“Oh, yeah! For sure.” Bella nods. “First though- down to business, I saw you talking to Quinton this morning.” She whispers, leaning closer.
“Oh, yeah, I brought him coffee.” You shrug and she rolls her eyes at you.
“Okay, duh! Tell me why, tell me everything, did he text you and ask? Or did you text him and offer? Because those are very different. And was it snap? Or did he use your number?” Bella bombs you with questions.
You roll your eyes and shake your head, smiling at her fondly. “Okay, he texted me, number, not snap, and then I offered because I was driving Vanessa and we were stopping for coffee anyways.”
“Number! This is big.” She smiles excitedly, nudging your shoulder. “Next thing you know, he’ll be down on one knee and we’ll be planning your wedding!”
Rafe is glaring over at the two of you, eyes locked onto those fake lashes that he must admit, do look very soft. He rolls his eyes in an effort to get himself to focus on the task at hand, discussing readings he also didn’t do. He couldn’t focus very long considering his partner was fully ignoring him, on his phone still facing the front of the room.
Why do you even like Quinton anyways? That guy’s an idiot- Rafe knows him well, and he knows that besides being a half decent defenseman, Quin is nothing special and is actually known to cheat on his past girlfriends. Why would you waste your time around a douchebag like that?
“Dude- would you stop?” Kelce groans, turning to look at Rafe who is repeatedly punching his back, which started with one hit to get his attention, but continued as his mind wandered and he needed to vent his frustrations.
“No, fuck off. You’re so annoying.” Rafe mumbles, continuing to hit his friend in the back.
“Rafe- for fucks sake, leave him alone.” Your voice distracts him and he stops, shocked that you got involved.
“Why’s it matter to you? Kelce was pissing me off.” Rafe defends, looking at you as you raise your eyebrow at him.
“I literally did not do anything!”
“Exactly- we’re doing group work.”
“Well neither of us read it so what will we talk about?” Kelce says, turning in his seat and trying to rub the aching out of his back.
“Believe it or not, you punching the crap out of your friend because you need endless amounts of attention can be distracting to others.” You say, impulsively reaching back and pulling Rafe’s binder from his desk. It’s always bothered you that he left the sheet that it came with in the front, a flimsy piece of plastic sheet with large graphic letters saying the binders brand and how many sheets of paper it can hold.
“Hey!” Rafe spits, reaching out for it as you pull the plastic sheet out, crumpling it up and throwing it back at him before putting handing his binder back.
“That was bothering me.” You say, and he snatches the binder out of your hands.
“I liked it there.” He mumbles, fully pouting now.
“It did look stupid.” Kelce agrees with you, making Rafe smack the back of his head.
“Rafe, c’mon.” Bella shakes her head at him, hardly looking up from the book.
“Maybe you drooling over Quinton is distracting, have you ever considered that?” Rafe says to you, ignoring her at this point.
“That’s your business how?”
“Oh my god, Y/N, would you shut up for like four seconds? Jesus Christ, you are a walking nightmare!” Ally hisses, turning and smacking her hands on your desk, making you jump.
“That’s actually truly funny coming from you, Ally. Your hair looks like a crows nest and you fucking smell like you haven’t washed your uniform in months. Personally, I’d watch my mouth if I was you.” You spit back, crossing your arms and sitting back in your seat.
Kelce and Bella simultaneously smack a hand over their mouths, trying to stifle their laughter. Rafe makes no such attempts, laughing and nodding, reaching out and gently shoving your shoulder.
“Shut up, Rafe. You’re just mad because I don’t kiss the ground you walk on.” Ally snaps, turning around again to face the front.
“True.” He says, coming down from his laughing fit. “I just kind of think it’s weird, though, that you make fun of Y/N’s makeup when you’re not even pretty to begin with. At least she doesn’t need it.” Rafe says, throwing the balled-up paper you just tossed at him at the back of her head.
You avoid eye contact with him as your cheeks burn from the implications of his comment.
You watch as Ally sniffles, her hand shooting up into the air. “Miss! Y/N and Rafe are calling me ugly!” She shouts out, grabbing the teachers attention when she doesn’t immediately see her hand.
You both simultaneously groan as everyone turns to look at you, the teacher standing up from her desk and pointing towards the door. “You two! Office. Go!”
“I’ll get some notes for you.” Bella whispers as you stand, shoving your books into your bag.
“Thanks, Bells.” You smile sadly at her. Rafe brushes past you as he moves to the door, past Ally’s desk as she looks at him smugly. You follow a few moments behind, stopping at the door as she watches you, pretending to look down and spit into your hand before flipping her off.
“Miss Y/L/N, out. Now!” The teacher urges you out, and you roll your eyes as you step out, adjusting the weight of your backpack on your shoulder with your coffee in your other hand.
You didn’t expect to see Rafe waiting for you, but it makes you smile anyways. Despite your bickering, you are decently good friends. You run in some of the same circles, and honestly you think you have a lot in common. Not that you hangout very much.
“So.” Rafe says, draping an arm over your shoulders. “Are we actually going to the office?”
“Fuck no.” You giggle, shaking your head. “Well, I’m not.”
“Thank god. Me neither.” Rafe laughs as you make your way down the hallway in the direction of the exit to the parking lot. “Are you hungry? We could go get something to eat.”
“Sure. Why not.” You agree, smiling up at him as he pushes the door open for you. “I’ll drive. I’m not getting on that rolling death trap you call a bike.”
“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.” He chuckles, following you toward your car.
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part two
A/N: i hammered this out this morning and i think it's just so cute
taglist: @slut4drudy , @madelynie , @mutual-mendes , @sadfury (i just tagged some mutuals who like my other stuff so if you want to be added or removed lmk!!)
reblogs and feedback are very appreciated as always :)
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simplydannie · 7 months ago
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Inspired by and written for @gabykatttt !! Hope you like it!
Based on the Branch HC here
@jules0511
This story is separate from the other AU stories going on, but highlights the relationship that will develop between Branch and the twins as time goes on.
Velvet and Veneer are in recovery and looking to to redeem themselves after the events of Trolls 3. They come back and forth between Rageous and Bergentown as the Trolls have adopted them in.
Velvet is looking to better herself to also be a better sister to Veneer. But now she has a very small competition going on with none other than Branch… who has claimed himself Veneers older brother.
“He’s going to love this!” Her smile seemed almost malicious, but Velvet was actually happy. Finally, after all this time, after all these years, she had found some! In her hand was a small box, within the box was the rare, but delicious, Tiff Toff Chocolate. She didn’t know where it came from, but she happened to find some here at there stay in Bergentown. Velvet made sure to get enough for the trip back home in a couple days.
She quickly made her way into the Bergen Castle to look for her brother. Today, she sported her back to normal attire. A magenta over sized sweeter that hung loosely on her torso, over a black tight mini dress’s. For shoes, she began to sport her combat boots again, this time black. Her hair was still styled up in her usual ponytail; on her wrist, the pink crystal bracelet Veneer once gave her long ago.
Velvet hasn’t felt happy like this in a long time.
“Ven!” She cried out as she made her ways through the hallways of the castle.
“Veneer!”
She peeked behind door to door. He wasn’t in town, so he had to be around here somewhere…
“Thank you Branch!” She distinctively heard her brother’s voice. She followed it. Velvet opened one door to find Veneer sitting cross legged on a chair, the small little Troll named Branch standing next to him in the table.
Veneer began dressing a little more himself. Today was a red poofy, sleeveless vest that stopped at his waist, collar turned up. Underneath a skin tight black t shirt with sleeves. He wore black skinny jeans with his brown combat boots… he was always one for boots… and his purple beanie…. God what was it with him and that beanie!
Veneer turned to find Velvet standing at the door.
“Vels look! Look what Branch got me!” He ran to his sister to show her a handful of Tiff Toff Chocolates…. Wait, Tiff Toff Chocolates!?
“You’re kidding…” Was all that escaped her lips. She eyed the little Troll with dagger eyes. Branch arched an eyebrow… what he do now?
“Oh! What’s that?” Veneer exclaimed as he saw the box within Velvets hand.
“Oh, um…” Before she could come up with any explanation, Veneer snatched the box out of her hand and opened it up.
“MORE TIFF TOFFS!!!” He exclaimed as he began bouncing up and down like an excited child.
“Ya. Surprise.” Her tone was sarcastic.
“Eeehhh!! I’m going to give one to Floyd!” He ran out like a happy kid at Christmas. Velvet waited till he was out of ear shots way.
“What the hell Branch!” Velvet turned furiously at the little Troll who still stood on the table.
“What I do now?” Branch retorted crossing his arms.
“Im the one who told you he LOVES Tiff Toff Chocolate! That I’ve been trying to find some for him, and you go and pull this crap!” She exclaimed. Branch stared at her wide eyed and open mouthed.
“Seriously! You’re seriously going to come at me for that?”
“Yes!”
“I just happened to see them and thought of what you said! I even told him you mentioned it! So I’m not taking full credit. I wanted to do something nice for him for a change.” Branch said. “I haven’t been the best brother figure to Veneer, so I’m trying to make it up. I want to be better now that I’m not the baby brother anymore.”
“Excuse me? Brother? Last time I remember DNA states that Veneer and ME are siblings. Not some raunchy Troll.”
“Watch it girly! Yeah, I grew to see Veneer as a little brother… he followed me around everywhere it’s hard not to. I mean he does need to have a stable sibling to look up to.” Branch spat back.
“Stable? I am stable!” Velvet said.
“Oh no. You have mood swings like no tomorrow. You leave whenever you so please whether you’re here in Bergentown or back at Rageous! Veneer doesn’t need that right now.”
“Oh and you know exactly what he needs?” Velvet crossed her arms.
“Why yes I do!” Branch mirrored her stance.
“What Vennie needs right now is his family… and that’s me! Not some grudge Troll who ignores him half the time because he’s annoyed with him. I NEVER ignored Veneer!” Velvet said.
“Well I NEVER treated him like garbage! I admit how I treated him was wrong, but I never once manipulated or treated him the way you have! I am willing to make it up to him.” Branch replied.
“Well so am I! That’s what I am trying do! Be a good sister! So stop interfering! And stop self-proclaiming yourself as his brother!”
“It’s a role I so happened to take! Proudly I might add! Someone had to be there for him when you decide to go on your mood swings and ignore everyone! And run off every now and then to god knows where! I know what it’s like to be abandoned.”
“I DO NOT abandon my brother! I’m trying to work on myself too you know! I’m trying to be a better person for myself and MY brother.”
“Well that makes two of us! I’m trying to better myself for my brothers too… and that includes Veneer now!”
“So what makes you think you a good brother to Veneer? He’s been MY brother since birth! So I know him the best and the longest. We’ve been by each other’s side since, we have been through hell and back! We’re inseparable! And that doesn’t plan to change.”
“We’ll make room “sister” cause now you have an older brother in the mix.”
“Big brother? Please! I could squash you like a bug!”
“Try it! I dare you!”
Velvet and Branch were staring down each other… the door opened. They turned to find Veneer walking in already finishing the chocolate Tiff Toffs he had just gotten from both of them. He stared at them, cheeks puffed up from stuffing his face with chocolates.
“What did I walk into?” He said with a stuffed mouth full of Tiff Toffs.
“Just having a casual conversation with my favorite little Troll.” Velvet used her finger to tap Branch on the head a little too hard.
“Oh yeah. Super casual.” Branch retorted swiping her finger away…. Unfortunately, sarcasm was not Veneers first language. He smiled oblivious to the argument Velvet and Branch just had.
“Really? See Vels! You’re making progress already.” Veneer smiled at his sister.
“Why thank you. Oh! Let’s go to the roller rink? Today is disco night.” Velvet chimed turning her brother to head towards the door.
“Oh!” He exclaimed with a smile on his face, “I’ll so totally own that!”
“Make room for a tag along!” Branch whipped his hair to pull himself into Veneer’s shoulder. “Being a Pop Troll and member of Brozone, dancing is my specialty. I can show you some moves you can use on the dance floor.”
“Me and Vennie already had some choreography of our own.” Velvet replied.
“Well I can improve on that 100%.”
“I highly doubt it. Ven has it in the bag already, and I’ll be there with him.” Velvet added.
“He does have it in the bag, but it will be with MY help.” Branch replied.
“No, me.”
“Me.”
“Me!”
“ME!”
Veneer twist his head back and forth between Velvet and Branch, growing dizzy as he did so.
“Guys! You can both help me!” He exclaimed, “What I could actually go for is their pizza! Oh and their smoothie! Think they have the strawberry flavor now!…”
Veneer kept yapping away, oblivious at the daggers Velvet and Branch were staring at each other…. All Veneer knew right now, and all he cared about… was having his sister and new big brother.
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abitohoney · 1 year ago
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On the Edge
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AO3 link
Sevika x female reader
Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW
Tags: Sevika/Reader, AMAB Sevika, Trans Sevika, Trans Female Character, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Teasing, Orgasm Delay, Edging, P-In-V Sex, Hand Jobs, Top Reader, Bottom Sevika, Aftercare, Fluff, Soft Sevika
Word Count: 3.3k
Summary: “You wanna come inside me, don’t you?” you purr.
Sevika’s eyes, barely open, peer past her heaving chest and down at you.
“Gotta be careful then and wait until I sit on you again,” you taunt with a coy smile. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin it for yourself after all this teasing.”
OR
It’s your birthday, and Sevika has agreed to let you switch your typical roles. But just how much teasing and edging can Sevika really take?
AN: This is a (belated) birthday gift for a special friend, inspired by a discussion we had a while back, so many of the ideas are also credited to her. 💖
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It’s high noon when you find yourself shedding your clothing, getting ready to really enjoy your most prized birthday gift of the day. Not that anyone could really tell the time from where your room lay deep in the lanes of the Undercity. Not even the tiniest beam of light makes its way into your small bedroom window. Doesn’t matter anyway. Your gift requires a little privacy.
Your ‘gift’ sits in the middle of your bedroom- a modest wooden chair just beneath the dim light that hangs from the ceiling, illuminating the person sitting in said chair. Their dark brown skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat beneath the yellow glow.
Sevika, your long-time girlfriend, sits completely nude from head to toe. Her muscular thighs are spread wide, much like her typical choice of lounging. Only this time, she is forced into that position. Thick, dark red rope binds her ankles to each front chair leg, tied just tight enough to prevent movement, but not so tight as to hurt- too much. That same rope wraps several times around each wrist, keeping them restrained against the wooden armrests. But your favorite part, at least visually, is the rope you’d tied across her chest- a criss-cross pattern that wraps above and below each lovely breast, then around the back of the chair. Perhaps a bit of overkill. She likely can’t- and won’t - be moving, but this is about more than just the restraining. It’s about presentation. It’s about mood. Both of which you’re happy to admit are done perfectly. She looks stunning sitting there, covered in a thick rope the same color as her trusty cape, those beautiful silky black strands of hair framing her face after having removed her hair tie, her entire body sweaty and disheveled. As for the mood- a palpable level of aroused, frustrated, and downright desperate.
You’d spent the past half hour pleasing, teasing, and edging your girlfriend- an agreed-upon gift to you (and perhaps not so secretly her) for your special day. Normally you'd be the one subjected to all the teasing and edging, but with just a little begging, sweet puppy-dog eyes, and a promise to ultimately let her have her release, she agreed.
Now, you decide to turn it up a notch. With all your clothes discarded, you saunter over to Sevika, swaying your hips with each step. Her intense gray eyes drift up from your hips, over the soft curves of your naked breasts, past the sly little upward pull of your lips, and finally land on your eyes.
With a hand on each of her shoulders to steady yourself, you carefully straddle her, staying high enough so as to not make contact with her still fully hardened cock. Taking it into your hand, you line the tip up with your entrance and lock eyes with her. “If you thought my hands and mouth were torture, just wait and see what I can do to you with this,” you purr.
Sevika’s brows furrow and she opens her mouth, ready to fire something snarky no doubt. Whatever it was she had to say dies the second you start to descend.
That delightful stretch threatens to break your composure, but it’s more than a threat to her. Despite her effort to remain cool and stoic, her weakened state leaves her vulnerable to the stimulation. And your wet, warm cunt is by far her favorite form of stimulation. You watch, with satisfaction beyond just the physical drag of her cock, as her face contorts in pleasure. Her furrowed brows soften out, no longer that steep v-shape she so commonly wore. Her eyelids grow heavier and her bare chest presses against yours as she takes in a slow, deep breath while you slide further down her length.
You bite your lip in an attempt to remain in control of your own body. This is just as pleasurable for you as it is for her, but you just can’t show it. That’s not what this is about. It’s about you pleasing her- which, ultimately, is your pleasure.
And then, you bottom out. Your naked thighs fully connect with the tops of hers, and good god is it a blissful feeling. So full. So warm. And it’s apparently more than good for her.
“Fuck, baby girl,” she sighs, releasing the breath she’d been holding. “You feel so good.” Her voice is raspy, even more than usual. You’d clearly gotten her worked up. Maybe a bit too much. You’ll have to be careful if you don't want her cumming too soon.
"Mmm, so do you," you moan while the two of you adjust to the new sensations.
When her eyes start to open, you slowly rise off her, making sure you clench, applying that extra pressure you know drives her to the brink of insanity.
"Fuck," she curses again.
You moan, an exaggerated albeit honest response to the pleasure, and slowly drop down on her again.
You set a slow pace to start, gradually building up speed each time you feel her buck her hips beneath you, until you’re riding her in earnest.
Her eyes drop to your chest, mesmerized by the bouncing of your breasts with each rise and fall of your body over hers.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Ride my cock,” she groans.
You can tell she’s getting close. Her eyes start to lose focus and her smirk falters. But you’re not letting her have it. Not yet. So just as gradually as you built up that speed, you slow down, savoring the way her face contorts. The way she strains through her attempt to chase that release, only to be bound almost entirely still by the red rope you so lovingly wrapped around her- your gift.
And when your speed decreases enough for her to realize it was intentional, you’re met with narrowed eyes and lips curled into a snarl. It all loses its bite though, as the desperation bleeds through. She’s damn near gasping, her breaths hard and ragged. That lovely sheen of sweat that coated her body earlier now collects into little droplets. One slides down along her cheek, following the trail of scars and further illuminating their already present blue glow. Another rolls clear down her neck, along her collarbone, then finally disappears between her heaving breasts.
She looks absolutely stunning. Just perfect.
Your lips easily curl into a smile. Not one of mockery or taunting. Just pure, honest, adoration. Unfortunately, it seems she takes it as the former.
“How long -”
A huff.
“-do you -”
Another huff.
“-plan on -”
The rest of her question dies the moment you speed back, her words dissolving into a low gasp.
You rock your hips with each descent, making that delicious drag that much more pleasurable for both of you.
“Fuck,” she groans.
“Mmm, you feel so good,” you moan.
You quickly work her up to that sweet precipice once again, moaning along with her huffs and groans as skin slaps against skin. And then…
You stop.
The moment you swing one leg off her you can see the panic hit her. Those lovely gray eyes go wide, almost deliriously desperate. And you can see the question lingering behind them as you move to stand between her legs.
Where the hell are you going?
Her eyes follow yours as you slowly drop to kneel between her spread thighs. You run both hands soothingly up and down her muscular thighs, your gaze focused on her throbbing erection. A mixture of precum and your own wetness covers it from base to tip. While one hand remains on her thigh, you move the other to tease fingertips along the length, delighting in how her hips jerk, though not nearly far enough given the restraints.
Unable to get that firm touch she craves, she huffs out a frustrated breath.
Another faint touch, fingers barely dragging along the slick, taut skin. You moan, licking your lips and intently watching her cock twitch.
“Baby, c’mon,” she urges.
What was supposed to sound more commanding, loses nearly all of its edge the moment those words dissolve into something akin to a whine.
Your gaze darts up to her face to find her brows knitted together in dire need, eyes glued to where your fingers now wrap around her cock. Strands of her dark hair cling to the sides of her sweat-covered face. For a moment you almost feel sorry for her, and consider just giving in. But you know she can go longer. And you both know the torture will be so very worth it in the end. When she finally gets that release it will be euphoric.
So you continue to goad her, moaning wantonly as you slowly stroke her.
“You wanna come inside me, don’t you?” you purr.
Sevika’s eyes, barely open, peer past her heaving chest and down at you.
“Gotta be careful then and wait until I sit on you again,” you taunt with a coy smile. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin it for yourself after all this teasing.”
She knows you’re right. It will feel so fucking perfect if she gets to cum inside you. So she fights to stave off that blissful end she’s been chasing for far too long. Her toes curl, brows pinching together in concentration.
It’s a losing battle though, as you continue to pump your hand along her length and moan so obscenely.
You are, in all honesty, starting to question if she can truly make it. Maybe you finally found her breaking point. But she could just speak one word and you’d immediately cease the teasing. She knows the safeword. Yet, she doesn’t speak it.
“Want to cum inside you, baby,” she huffs through gritted teeth.
The wood on the arms of her chair starts to crack and splinter, her death grip threatening to break right through them.
And that’s when you realize she's reached her limit.
So you release her from your hand and swiftly move to straddle her again. Your eyes meet hers and the relief and hope that paints her face makes your heart ache.
She’ll get what she deserves. She’ll get her release. And it will be wonderful for both of you.
You line her up, hovering there for just a moment and taking in the beautiful mess beneath you. Her gaze drops back to her cock, where the head teases through your wet folds. She watches, waits, wills to see what she’s been needing for so fucking long.
And then you sink down.
Ever.
So.
Slowly.
The groan she releases is long, deep, and strained. 
“Oh Sev,” you keen.
One drag along her length.
“I want you to cum inside me.”
Two drags.
“Please cum inside me.”
Three.
“I need to feel it so bad.”
Four.
“Please!”
You drop down one final time and then-
Pure ecstasy.
All that pent-up need and frustration escapes Sevika in a full-body response. Her eyes flutter shut before rolling behind her lids, her head thrown back. The chair creaks and cracks as she pulls hard against every restraint, her hips raising, pushing herself just the slightest bit deeper as she fills you with her release. A long, guttural, and strained groan releases from deep in her chest, varying in volume before finally tapering off into yet another pathetic sound you liken to a whine.
You stay seated on her lap, but grind against her, riding her through that delirious high. Even if you didn’t get your own release, you’re certain, in that moment, you couldn’t have asked for a better gift. She looks utterly transcendent. Lost in her pleasure as it rolls through her. Her body jerks several more times before she finally collapses against the chair, her head lolling to the side.
While you give her time to come down from her high, you make quick work of removing the rope binding her wrists and chest to the chair. The legs will have to wait for later. You don’t want to make any unnecessary movements and cause any overstimulation.
With your arms wrapped loosely over her shoulders, you bury your face against her shoulder and pepper it with tender kisses. Her chest rises and falls against yours, still slick with sweat, but the feeling of her rapid heartbeat is indescribably wonderful, and you know she can feel yours too. Her breathing gradually slows to a more steady pace.
You feel her shift, but before you can lift your head to check on her, you feel her lazily throw her arms around you, holding you close while she continues to recover. You nuzzle further into her and whisper, “That was amazing, Sev. Thank you.”
All she can manage is a quiet hum, but you know she heard you by her hand weakly rubbing circles along your back.
When you feel she’s steady enough, you sit upright and search her face for any signs of unhappiness.
Her lids lay heavy over her eyes- eyes that appear glossed over in post-coital bliss. Her lips are slightly parted, but no sign of strain. She’s simply relaxed, relieved, and in heaven.
So you slowly lift off her, both of you groaning at the stimulation and loss of contact.
“I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?” you say softly.
She can barely lift her head to nod, but you get the message and bend down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead.
You move quickly, not wanting to leave her alone like that for too long. After grabbing two wet cloths, a glass of water, and a jar of healing balm from the bathroom you make your way back into the bedroom. She’s still in the same position, looking as if she could pass out at any moment.
Janna, what you’d give to capture this moment for eternity. She looks so content and relaxed. Like all her troubles left her body along with her release.
You bring the glass to her mouth and slowly pour, your fingers gently pressed to the underside of her chin as you help her drink. Her glazed-over eyes meet yours, and though she’s unable to speak, her expression alone speaks volumes. She is pleased. She is content. And she adores you.
You sit between her legs and quickly unbind them. Watching her face for any signs of discomfort, you bring the wet cloth to her now softened cock, so very gently wiping it and her thighs clean. She takes it well, only flinching slightly when you touch the tip of her cock.
Then, with the second washcloth, you wipe the rest of her body down, clearing away as much of the sweat as possible before moving to the healing balm.
You gently work the balm into the red, raw skin of her ankles. Again with her wrists. And finally across her chest.
All the while she simply sits there in a daze. Her eyes lazily follow your movements, though you’re not sure she entirely processes them.
After carefully climbing back onto her lap, you take her face in your hands and stroke her cheeks.
She wraps her arms loosely around your waist, her flesh and metal fingers lazily tracing random patterns along the base of your spine. The corner of her mouth curls into a weak smile, one that you naturally mimic.
Hair still clings to her face, and as lovely as you think she looks like that, you know it’s likely to bother her. So you gently comb your fingers through the silky strands, pushing them back away from her face and tucking as much as you can behind her ears.
“How are you feeling?” you ask softly.
“Mmm,” she hums, “Feeling good. Really good.”
Janna, her voice is still so husky.
“Was that too much?”
She slowly shakes her head. “Not at all, baby girl. Was perfect.”
Your smile grows. “Do you need anything else?”
“Just you.”
You’re full-on beaming.
“Want to come lie in bed with me for a while?” you ask hopefully.
“Mhm.”
“Okay. Wait one sec,” you say as you climb off her and rush to the dresser. With a fresh pair of boxer briefs in hand you make your way back to kneel in front of her again.
She peers down at you while you hold her boxers out for her to step into, and you swear her cheeks flush at the gesture.
“You know it’s okay to let the people who care about you help you,” you point out with a smile.
She says nothing, just looks away, but still allows you to help her.
Once you’ve got her boxers up past her knees she slowly rises to her feet, and for a moment you think she’s going to topple right over with the way she wobbles.
Perhaps that had been a little too much for her.
She manages to steady herself and allows you to take her hand in your own to guide her to your bed. She lazily crawls onto the mattress before collapsing and rolling onto her back.
You try, but fail, to hide the little smile that brings to your face. She doesn’t appear to mind your amusement over her fucked out state, evident by how she still wears her own crooked little smile and holds her arm out for you. Happy to accept her silent invitation, you crawl onto the bed and snuggle up against her side, resting your head on her shoulder.
She wraps her arm around you, pulling you closer while she presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“Fuck, baby,” she sighs, “That was really something else.”
Tilting your head back, you press a kiss to her jaw.
“Guess it was an early birthday gift for you too,” you say with a little laugh.
She strokes your side with her fingertips, humming in agreement.
“Baby, we don’t gotta wait until anyone’s birthday to do that again. You just say the word.”
You full-on giggle at that. Her uncharacteristically drunken ramblings are certainly not a part of this gift you were expecting.
She chuckles lightly at your contagious, sweet laughter, her body shaking against yours.
“Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever.” Though you speak the words with a laugh, you truly do mean it nonetheless.
“For the best girl ever,” she adds with a gentle squeeze of your hip.
Janna, she’s so fucking sweet and cute when she’s fucked out.
“My muscles hurt,” she drawls, “You got me worked up.”
You beam with pride.
“Thought a few times you were really gonna leave me hanging, but you did so good,” she continues.
You tilt your head back again to peer up at her as she speaks. She’s staring up at the ceiling, brows furrowed slightly as if in deep thought.
So damn cute.
“That little teasing you did- making me wait for you to sit on my lap again- never knew you had that in you. Was worth the wait too. Getting to feel you wrap around me like that, and finally fill you up.” She turns to gaze down at you, her smirk more akin to her typical cocky one. “As soon as I recover, I wanna fuck you again. Make you feel as good as you made me feel.”
She gets that look in her eye- the one where her pupils dilate a bit more- and heat immediately spreads throughout your body.
“And then I’m gonna take real good care of you, the way you did me. Sound good?”
“Very,” you reply with a smile.
“But first, I just wanna lie here with you for a while.”
“Gladly.”
You snuggle up to her more, nuzzling into her neck and breathing in the calming scent of her. It’s a mix of sweat, smoke, and spices- uniquely her, and so very perfect.
She presses another kiss to the top of your head. “Happy birthday, baby girl.”
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