#and on top of everything my hair is not growing and i’m just losing hair and the hair i have is turning frizzy and for some reason one

[bsturnzmtt]

Drunk temptations - M. Sturniolo

Best friends to lovers

Paring: bsf!Matt x drunk!Reader

Contains/warinings: reader is a virgin, dry humping, no p in v, mentions of alcohol and loss of virginity, pet names, reader is drunk (nothing actually happens).

Summary: You and your best friend Matt are going to a party. You get extremely drunk, and despite your bratty resistance, Matt insists on taking you home. Somehow, you end up on your best friend's lap, kissing him and confessing that you want to lose your virginity to him…

Masterlist

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You and Matt have been best friends for many years now. You’re also friends with his brothers Nick and Chris. Tonight you guys are going to a party. Matt went to pick you up.

*Knocks on the door*

You quickly went downstairs to open the door with your hair and makeup ready but still in your pijamas.

Laughing, he raises an eyebrow at my pajamas “You’re not ready yet?”

“Sorryyyyy, I just need to get changed and we can go” you explain.

He chuckles. “Alright, but make it quick.”

“Okay okay, come in, I promise.” You say laughing a bit as you two go upstairs to your room. You get in the bathroom and Matt sits down on your bed waiting for you.

He leans back on the bed, looking quite at home in your room as he waits. His eyes roam around, taking in the posters on the walls and the messy piles of clothes scattered about.

You quickly change onto a black mini skirt, a red tight and a little revealing top, some jewelry and a ton of perfume. You take one last glance in the mirror and exit the bathroom. “I’m ready!”

He looks up from where he was lounging on your bed, a slow smile spreading across his face “Whoa, you look amazing tonight.”

You smile at his compliment. “Thank youuu! It’s a new outfit, I bought it today.”

"Oh yeah? I can tell. It looks really good on you." He stands up and walks over, taking a closer look at the outfit. "Hey, is that a new perfume too?" He asks, leaning in to sniff at your neck.

You feel something fluttering in your stomach as he leans in, his hot breath hitting your neck. “What?… oh yeah it’s a new perfume.” You feel your face growing hot and you’re also feeling nervous. But you quickly throw those feelings away, reminding yourself that he’s your best friend.

He pulls back and flashes a grin at your flushed face, noting your reaction yet deciding not to comment on it. Instead, he gestures towards the door. “Shall we, m’lady?” He teases, offering you his arm like a gentleman.

You laugh at his tone and actions. “Always a gentleman, right?” You tease and take his arm.

"Only for you, my lady," Matt replies with a playful smirk. He leads you out of the room and down the hallway, his hand gently patting at yours on his arm.

You laugh and roll your eyes jokingly as you nudge him with your shoulder.

He chuckles and nudges you back, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles. As you guys head down the hallway, Matt can't help but steal glances at you, admiring the way the dim lighting highlights your features and makes the colors of your outfit pop. As you step out into the night air, the cool breeze rustling your hair, Matt can't help but appreciate the way the city lights reflect off the curves of your body. He opens the car door for you, gesturing for you to get in.

“Ooohhh, opening the door and everything.” You say teasingly.

He chuckles and gives a mock bow, "Anything for my queen," he says with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he waits for you to get in the car.

You chuckle and roll your eyes. “Ohh shut upppp.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he closes the car door. As he walks around to the driver's side, he can't help but grin at your teasing.

As we drive to the party, the music is playing softly in the background, and Matt can't help but tap his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. He glances over at you, a sly grin spreading across his face. "So, are you ready to party tonight?"

“Oh I'm definitely ready to get drunk.” You say with a chuckle.

He laughs and shakes his head, "Well, let's make sure you don't do anything too crazy, yeah? I don't want to have to carry you home over my shoulder."

“I won't, don't worry. I just want to have a little fun.” You say.

"Alright, alright, I trust you," he says, still grinning as he pulls up to the party venue. "We’re here."

As you guys walk into the party, you can feel the energy and excitement in the air. The music is loud, and people are dancing and mingling all around. You guys go to say hi to Matt’s brothers Nick and Chris.

After a while you see some of your friends. “I’m gonna go say hi to my friends.” You tell Matt.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll catch up with you later." He says as he watches you walk away, his gaze following you until you disappear into the crowd.

You approach your friends and greet them. Then you all decide to get drinks and dance.

While you're busy having fun, Matt is talking with his brothers and some of their old friends catching up. He occasionally glances over at you, letting out a small chuckle as he sees you dancing and having fun.

As the night goes by you keep ordering more and more drinks, getting yourself drunk.

Matt notices you stumbling around and laughing loudly, and his expression turns from amusement to concern. He excuses himself from his conversation and starts making his way towards you. "I think that's enough drinks for you." he says, as he approaches you.

“Maaatt! Hiii I've missed youuu.” You say slurring your words as you hug him.

He chuckles and hugs you back, holding you steady as you sway slightly. "I've missed you too," he says, his voice low and gentle. "I think you've had a few too many drinks," He says with a chuckle, trying to keep you steady on your feet. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Whaaat? Whyyy? I'm having fun.” You whine.

He sighs and wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you towards the exit. "You're slurring your words, stumbling around, and you're not making any sense," he says firmly but gently.

“Noooo I want to stayyy.” You pout.

He gently but firmly continues guiding you towards the exit, his grip steady on your waist. "I know you're having fun, but it's getting late and you're too drunk to handle yourself."

“You’re so boringgg.” You slur out.

He laughs softly and unlocks his car door for you. "I'm not boring, I'm just responsible," he says, helping you into the passenger seat.

“Yeah yeah, same thing.” You say.

He gets in the driver's side and starts the car, keeping a watchful eye on you as he drives. "You know, you're going to regret this hangover in the morning," he says with a smirk, but his tone is soft with concern.

“I had sooo much funnn” you start laughing.

He chuckles and gives you a knowing look. "I can tell," he says.

He pulls into your driveway and turns off the engine, turning to face you with a gentle smile. "We're here," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Time to get you inside and into bed."

“Noooo I don’t wanna go to bed.” You whine.

He laughs softly and shakes his head. "Come on, you'll thank me when you're not suffering with a hangover tomorrow," he says as he carefully gets out of the car and walks around to your side, opening your door and offering his hand to help you out.

He sighs and helps you out of the car anyway, wrapping his arm around your waist to support you as you stumble a bit on the driveway. "Let's get you inside and settled, okay?" he says, leading you towards your front door with a gentle but firm grip.

“Fineeee” you slur out as you roll your eyes.

He chuckles and shakes his head, helping you up the steps and to the front door. "You're going to be a lot of fun to deal with in the morning," he says with a teasing tone, digging out your keys from your purse and unlocking the door. He opens the door and ushers you inside, switching on the light and helping you stumble into the living room. "Sit down," he says, guiding you onto the couch. "I'll get you some water."

He disappears into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water. "Drink up," he says, waiting for you to take a few sips before setting the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. He then plops down beside you on the couch, watching you with a mixture of amusement and concern.

“Thank youu” you say as you lean back.

He smiles and leans back with you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. "No problem," he says.

You start laughing a little bit remembering things that happened at the party. “I had so much fun tonight, best party ever.” You say, still slurring your words.

He chuckles and pulls you closer, his arm tightening around your shoulders. "Glad you had a good time," he says, his voice low and gentle.

You turn to look at him and realize how close your faces are.

He grins then, his eyes sparkling in the low light of the room. "Yeah, it was a good party," he says, his voice dropping even lower, almost to a whisper. His eyes flick down to your lips before darting back up to your eyes. He swallows thickly and the room suddenly becomes much quieter and more intimate.

You don’t know if it's the alcohol taking over your mind but you want to kiss him really bad. You know it isn’t right because you’re drunk and you guys are best friends, but you can’t stop thinking about it. ‘Fuck it’ your mind says, you lean in and kiss him.

His eyes widen in surprise for a split second, but he doesn't pull back, instead, his lips move against yours, soft and gentle at first, but then deepening into a more passionate kiss. His arm around your shoulders tightens, pulling you closer to him as he angles his head to fit your lips together perfectly.

You keep kissing him, your mouth opening just a nudge letting his tongue in. He responds eagerly to the invitation, his tongue slipping into your mouth tasting the alcohol in your system and tangling with yours in a sinfully good way.

As you get more into the kiss you start to kiss more sloppily and drunkenly. You’re body now controlled by the alcohol and lust moves to sit on his lap straddling him.

He groans into the kiss as you shift to straddle him, his hands immediately moving to grip your hips to steady you. The feel of your heat pressing against him, even through the layers of clothing, sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin. He breaks the kiss long enough to breathe. "God, you're killing me," he mutters, his voice low and husky, his eyes burning with intensity. "Fuck, we shouldn't be doing this," he says, his voice rough with need, even as his hands continue to hold you tight against him.

“Why?” You ask.

Matt's eyes search yours, a mix of conflict and longing evident in their dark depths. "Because this isn't right, not like this," he says, his breath coming in short gasps as he fights to maintain control. "You're drunk off your ass, and I shouldn't take advantage of that." He hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours before he admits, "And we're best friends, and this could change everything between us." His grip on you tightens as if he's trying to hold onto the friendship despite the heat building between you two.

“But I want to.” You say kissing him again and ignoring his words.

He groans into the kiss, his resolve crumbling under your persistence and the intoxicating effect of your body pressed so intimately against his. "Fuck, you're making this hard," he pulls back. “We can’t do this.”

“Please.” You whine as you start to kiss his neck.

His hands grip your hips, his breath hitching as you trail kisses along his neck. "Fuck," he swears, his grip tightening as he resists the temptation you present. "You're killing me, Y/n."

“Please Matt, I- I want you to be my first.” You whisper.

His whole body stiffens at your words, his hands gripping you harder for a moment before releasing you, he looks at you with eyes full of surprise and a mix of emotions. "Shit, y/n," he mutters. His hands move to cup your face, making you look at him.

“Please Matt, take my virginity away. I'm ready.” You look at him with doe eyes filled with lust and a little red from the alcohol.

"No, y/n, you're drunk and I don't want to take advantage of that," he says, his voice strained. He looks at you with a mix of desire and guilt, his hands still cupping your face gently. "We've been friends for so long, and this could change everything.

“You’re the person I trust the most, I want it to be you.”

"God, y/n, you're killing me. I want this, I want you so bad, but I can't just take your virginity while you're in this state," he says, his voice rough with need. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

You ignore his words and start kissing him again.

He hesitates for a moment, then relents, his hands moving from your face to your hips as he deepens the kiss. But after a few moments, he pulls back again, trying to break the kiss. "Y/n, we can't do this."

“mmh please Matt” you whimper and kiss him again.

He groans, his resolve weakening as he feels you pressing against him. "Y/n, no," he says, but his voice is weaker this time, and it's clear that he's struggling to resist.

You continue kissing him but this time your hips start to grind against him. “Mmh” you moan.

He hisses through clenched teeth, his hips bucking up to meet your grinding motions. "Fuck, y/n, stop," he growls, but his words lack conviction. His hands slide down to grip your ass, pulling you harder against him as he rocks his own hips up in response to yours.

“Mmh Matt feels so good” you whimper against his lips.

He lets out a tortured groan, his body trembling with restraint as he tries to hold back. "Y/n, please...I don't want to hurt you," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing.

“Matt I need you” you let out as you keep kissing and grinding him. Your hands move to remove your top, revealing your lace black bra.

His eyes widen at the sight of your bra, and he swears under his breath as he tries to fight his growing arousal. "Y/n, we can't," he repeats, his voice hoarse with desire.

You start kissing his neck again.

He groans, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck as his hands move up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. "Fuck... You're killing me,"

You grab his hands and lead them to your back where the clip for your bra is.

“Stop this," he says firmly, though there's a strained edge to his voice. His hands remain frozen on your back, the clip of your bra still untouched. "Y/n, no. We can't. You're too drunk, I won't take your virginity like this." He pushes his hands away from the clasp of her bra, his own breathing heavy and ragged as he struggles to maintain his composure. “This has already gone too far.”

"No buts, y/n. We can't do this right now. It's not right." He says firmly, still holding onto his composure even as his body is begging for release from the arousal coursing through him. "I care about you too much to take advantage of you in this state.” He takes a deep breath and stands up, pulling away from you completely.

"Y/n, let's... let's get you to bed," he says, his voice calm but strained. He offers you a hand to help you up, his eyes never leaving yours as if gauging your reaction.

You don't say anything, just take his hand and follow him to your room.

He watches out for you as you move to your room, ensuring you don't stumble and hurt yourself in your inebriated state. Once inside, he guides you to the bed, sitting you down gently on the edge.

He gives you a big t -shirt big enough to cover up your knees. So you put it on and take your skirt off and sit on the bed again. He kneels down in front of you, pulling off your heels and placing them beside the bed.

"There, that's better, right?" He says, looking up at you with concern etched into his features. He really cares about you, more than he wants to admit. He gently pushes you back onto the bed, helping you lay down, making sure you're covered up before he stands back up.

“Good night” you slur out and quickly doze off.

He watches you for a moment, a soft smile on his face as he sees the exhaustion and alcohol finally catch up to you. He nods to himself, satisfied that you're safe and comfortable, before turning to leave the room. He quietly closes your bedroom door behind him, the soft click echoing in the silence of the house. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm the storm of emotions and desire that still rages within him. He knows he did the right thing, protecting you from a mistake you wouldn't remember.

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Heyyy sorry if this isn’t as detailed and long

Im probably gonna start working on some requests now!!

Comment if you wanna be on my tag list !!

Not readproof ! 2978 words

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Taglist: @xaristhings @blahbel668 @bernardsbendystraws @sturnzsblog @deffonotjae @suyqa @mattsturniololover1 @mattsturniolosgf @mattsturnihoe @annsx03 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @strnzzvsp @l34n @mattsfavbitchhh @chr1sgirl4life @yourenogoodforme @mattshighway @lauren-222 @slvtformatts @megamorgan44 @mattsturnswife @mqttittude @mariasturniolo @pixiespax

[princessbellecerise]

cw: smut, mistaken identity, dragonseed!reader

oh nothing just thinking about jace finally deciding that honor be damned, there’s a war going on and he does not want to die a virgin. he has a plan to fix it but he’s so nervous that he drinks a few glasses of wine to calm his nerves. then, he sneaks into baela’s room and shuts the door, smiling when he sees what he thinks are her silver curls peaking out from underneath her sheets. as quietly as he can, jace gets undressed and climbs on the bed. it creaks a little under his weight, but baela doesn’t stir, surprising him since she’s usually a light sleeper. he thinks nothing of it though, because he’s so nervous and so excited and he’s a littleee bit tipsy from the wine so he doesn’t notice that baela’s skin is softer than what it should be. furthermore, her body isn’t as hard as a warriors body should be and she even smells different to jace. it’s an intoxicating scent that makes all the nerves in his body feel like he’s on fire. it spurs him on even more, the prince pushing the covers back to reveal baela’s barely clothed body. to his surprise, the princess is wearing a cute little slip decorated in flowers. its silky and underneath it, jace realizes that she’s wearing nothing. her pretty little cunt is on full display when he pushes the slip up to her breasts, mouth watering as her full body is exposed. in no time, the prince attaches his mouth to any skin he can find, growing harder by the minute as he tastes baela’s sweet flesh. as his lips trail over her neck, her breasts, and eventually the sweet spots on her belly, he can hear her whimpering and whining above him.

“jacaerys? what are you doing?”

her voice is a little different from what she usually sounds like, but the prince chalks it up to baela just coming out of sleep and to the wine.

“shh, sweetling. just relax. i’m going to take good care of you,” he whispers to her, before attaching his lips to her cunt.

almost immediately, baela begins to squirm underneath him, heavy pants and little cries leaving her lips. her hands come down to tangle in his hair as jace gets to work, finding her pearl and coaxing to her peak.

he’s doing so good, he thinks, and she tastes so sweet. jace wants to spend hours in between her legs if possible but he’s so hard that it hurts. the prince finds himself needing to be inside of her before he bursts.

hurriedly, he climbs on top of her and presses his swollen head to her folds. baela leans up, her sweet plump lips capturing him in a kiss just before he pushes in, groaning into her mouth as he sinks.

she feels wonderful jace thinks, so tight and warm that he wonders why in the hell he hasn’t done this before. there’s no feeling that has ever made him tremble the way he does now, buried deep in baela’s cunt. pleasure bleeds into his very soul, and he feels so euphoric that he needs to do something, anything to keep from losing his mind. he holds her, kisses her, sucks harshly on her breasts. does everything that lets him feel her, letting her sweet taste consume him to the point of oblivion.

and she lets him. gods be good, she holds onto him for dear life as his cock pounds into her, letting out the sweetest of sounds that he cherishes. he’s so full of love at the moment that jace can’t help that it tumbles from his lips. he whispers in her ear about how perfect she is for him, and how sweet and warm her cunny is. he tells baela that he couldn’t wait to marry her from the moment he saw her and that she’ll make the best wife to him. as he fucks into her, lewd sounds echoing through her room, jace feels her legs wrap around his back. he feels her pull him close and keep him there, hugging his body until there’s no space left between them.

it’s then that he asks, desperate as he fills an avalanche growing in his stomach, “will you take me? will you take my seed, my love?” when she nods, her own legs trembling and her cries blending with his, it’s then that jace pours everything that he has into her. everything that he is. sweet nothing after sweet nothing just seems to come out, as there’s no short amount of praises he gives as he snaps.

he’s on cloud nine, and it’s so overwhelming that jace cums harder than he ever has in his life. hot spurts of his seed flow from his cock and into baela, his balls firmly pressed against her ass to keep it there.

by the gods, he groans, “i wish to see you swollen with my children,” at least serval times. and he knows, jace knows that her sweet soft body will be the perfect place to grow his heirs.

in the morning, he’ll ask his mother for permission to marry her like he should’ve from the beginning. heaven knows that he’s too addicted to her now, too in love and cunt drunk to part. he’s can’t risk dying in this war without calling her his wife. can’t risk not being able to make love to her freely until their end. it’ll kill him inside, he thinks.

he holds onto her even as his cock softens. she winces a little as he pulls out, but he kisses her wet cheeks and is pleased to see that nothing spills from her cunt. it’s as if the mother herself has blessed her womb, blessed their union and allowed for not a single drop to spill. soon, her belly will swell with children that are perfect mix of their beautiful mother and their father. another reason for jace to fight, he thinks. another reason that they must win.

“for you. for our child. i will fight with everything i have in me, i promise,” he tells her.

baela simply weeps into his arms, overwhelmed by their union as well and sniffles out her own promises.

“i will be a good wife. i swear it to you,” she tells him, and it’s these sweet words that lull him off to sleep. he can’t stay there forever, they both know it, but jacaerys manages to sleep with her and hold her a little while longer before he’s forced to get up and leave her.

the next morning, he can’t stop smiling despite being forced to train all of the new dragonseed’s early. baela isn’t up yet but the thought of seeing her afterwards is what motivates him, though jace is a little confused as to why the only female dragonseed is now following him around. she’s giggling and acting all lovesick towards him, but even though she is beautiful and a sweet girl, his heart belongs to another after last night. but baela is nowhere to be seen. and in fact, rhaenyra tells jace later on that she’s not even in the castle, having flown to driftmark to retrieve lord corlys. in the meantime though, she decided to give you her room until jace’s betrothed comes back. after all, out of all of the dragonseeds, you are the only noble that answered the call. and it would be rude to let you sleep amongst the others, would it not?

[clockwayswrites]

Totally didn't write Tim being confused.

WC:1174 Masterpost

“So are you going to want in on it?” Jason asked without looking over at Tim. If his brother wanted to follow after him on his mundane patrol, let him.

“You’d be okay with that?” Tim asked, unable (or not trying to) keep the surprise out of his voice.

Jason just shrugged, sure to exaggerate the motion to show through his armor. Tim had done him a favor with this research, Jason figured he earned a spot on the bust. Besides, Jason was… trying. He couldn’t make up for what he’d done to Tim, but he could try to be better now.

“Yes, sure,” Tim said in response to the shrug. “Just let me know when and I’ll make sure the others know to cover my route that night. Or nights, if you need help planning?”

Gut reaction was to growl at the offer of help planning, but Jason forced the sound back down into a noncommittal noise. He was better now. He didn’t need to do everything himself. His goons, and god he still didn’t like that name but whatever, proved that. Crime Alley was better because of them. “Maybe. Lemme look over your data first. I’ll let you know.”

“Right, sure, of course,” Tim said with an aborted flutter of his hand. “Just let me know.”

Fuck, Jason really should say yes, let Tim help. “Yeah, I will. Just need to go over what you’ve got, get my head around it, you know?”

Tim nodded. Some of his hair slipped out of the hair tie that he had it pulled back into. Jason thought it was good for the kid to be growing his hair out, getting out of that perfect corporate box he put himself into too much, but he didn’t know how to say that in a way that wouldn’t offend Tim or make him feel judged, so Jason kept quiet.

In the quiet it was very easy to hear a too familiar voice growl, “I said back off! I’m not interested!”

Jason sighed, the noise threatening through the modulation of the helmet, and turned to run over the roof tops towards the voice. He could feel rather than hear Tim change directions with him, ever the loyal shadow.

-

Tim perched on the edge of the roof that Jason was leaning over.

“Come on, my money’s good,” huffed some dude. He must have gotten out of his car to confront the sex worker who had turned him down. Which beyond being rude, no still meant no even if the person was a sex worker, it was clear the worker was done for the night. They were carrying two handfuls of plastic bags and Tim could smell the food from the roof.

“I said no, dude,” they said. “Go find someone working a corner if you need it that bad.”

“Yeah, they don’t have what you have,” the guy said. Then he did the stupidest thing he could have done and reached out while the sex worker pulled away.

Jason was already over the ledge of the roof before Tim had twitched. He landed with a purposeful crunch on the battered asphalt and had his gun drawn and pointed as the guy spun around.

“You new to the Alley?” Jason growled.

The guy (who looked two seconds away from pissing his pants) shook his head.

“Then you should know the rules,” Jason said. He stepped forward and pressed his gun against the guy’s temple.

Tim’s gaze flicked between Jason and the sex worker, who was looking on… fondly? Something else was going on here.

“I see you fucking with people like this again and you’ll lose something important, got it?”

“Got it,” the guy squeaked.

“Get out of here.”

The guy scrambled back to his car and took off with a squeal of tires. Tim jumped down silently while Jason holstered his gun and turned to the sex worker.

“Hood!” They said with a bright smile.

“Danny,” Jason growled. “What are you doing out here at this time of night?”

“Delivering some dinner to Nickie and the girls,” Danny said, holding up the plastic bags in his hands.

Jason’s fingers twitched like he wanted to run a hand over his helmet (or strangle the other). “Dressed like that?”

The worker, Danny, pouted and looked down at his outfit. There was a large sliver of stomach exposed between the bright green crop top with a pattern of cartoon ghosts, tiny black shorts with magenta details, and knee high black boots. Tim sort of thought the look worked for him in an eye searing way.

“Oh come on, I’m going to see Nickie. You know I have to dress right or she’ll drag me off to another makeover. I can’t take any more makeovers, Hood. And… don’t you think I look good?”

“Of course you look good,” Jason said.

Tim’s head whipped over to stare. He had to purposeful close his mouth before he caught flies.

Danny’s pout grew. “Then what’s the issue?”

“The issue is people are going to think you’re a hooker.”

Wasn’t he?

Danny rested a hand on his hip and raised a brow at Jason. “You say that like being a hooker is a bad thing. Do I need to tell the girls you said that?”

“You know what I mean!” Jason argued. “You just had a pushy John try to pick you up!”

“And I was handling him!”

Jason growled again and took a threatening step forward. Instead of being cowed by it, Danny stepped up into Jason’s space, basically pressing himself along Jason’s looming form. And then Danny stood up on his tip toes and pressed a kiss to Jason’s helmet, right where his mouth would be.

Tim could hear the dial up tone in his own mind.

What.

It only got louder when Jason sighed and just slumped, the fight going out of him.

“Danny…”

“I’m fine, Hood. Look, I’ll take the food to Nickie and stay with the girls until you can walk me home. Or your little shadow can.”

When Jason’s head jerked up to looked at Tim, he couldn’t help the instinct to raise his hands innocently.

Jason just grumbled and let his helmet drop onto Danny’s slim shoulder, which started shaking with laughter.

“Shut up,” Jason said.

“You forgot he was there, didn’t you?” Danny asked. He transferred all the food to one side so that he could run a hand over the helmet and down to Jason’s neck.

Jason letting someone touch him so casually, especially as Red Hood wasn’t helping Tim’s brain reboot.

“Red, get your ass over here,” Jason said.

Tim figured it was best to listen with whatever the fuck was going on here. He slipped out of the shadows while Danny turned around, tucked himself back into Jason’s arms, and smiled at Tim.

“Red, Danny. Danny, Red Robin, one of the Bats.”

“Hi,” Danny chirped cheerfully and held out his empty hand.

“Hello,” Tim said, shaking it mostly on instinct. What the fuck was going on here?

---

AN: Oh look! Another Bat finally meets Danny! Tim is so, so confused. I'm not feeling well at all, so I went back to the tried and true fic that I'm not writing. It's been a while since I haven't written it, hasn't it?

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost here.

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi gorgeous a fic request idea it's my first time requesting so sorry if I'm doing it wrong! What about reader being insecure about herself and worrying she's not smart or hot enough for Eddie and it's just Eddie being confused bc how could she think that wen he's the town freak?? and then reassuring her and just lots of fluff

Ah, this is so relatable! I know I need Eddie to reassure me. Also, the only way to request wrong is by being rude and you most definitely were not 💕

Words: 1.2k

You’re not sure what caused the recent feeling of inadequacy, but you just can’t shake it. The last few weeks it feels like a storm has been rolling in bit by bit, always adding something new to the pile of things you already dislike about yourself. The little things that have always irked you in the back of your mind steadily keep making their way forward, pushing and shoving like there’s a clearance sale on your happiness and they want first dibs. 

It doesn’t matter that your grades are holding steady because you answered a question wrong in class today when the teacher called on you. You’re such an idiot. There’s a new pimple growing in like a second head near your lips. You’re so gross. The weather be damned, your hair is going to look a wreck rain or shine. You’re such a mess. The clothes the other girls wear are flattering and beautiful, making yours look like dirty dish rags in comparison. You’re such a loser. 

Despite trying your damnedest to hide how you’re feeling from the world, your boyfriend knows you too well for that. Eddie notices the way you lose focus, your attention drifting somewhere else—internally, he’s afraid. 

Your latest zone out is while the two of you are sitting on his couch, watching a movie. A part that you’ve laughed at a million times before comes on and Eddie can tell your brain hasn’t even registered what’s on screen. He keeps stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye, growing more concerned each time. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” You’re broken out of your stupor and meet Eddie’s gaze with glassy eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asks, concern etched deep into his brow.

“What do you mean?” You know your attempt at playing dumb won’t work either—on top of everything else, you’re a shit actress too. 

“You’ve seemed sad lately. Kind of…distant,” Eddie says, taking care to choose his words carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s interrogating you but wants to convey his genuine worry and concern.  

Shame floods your body as you realize Eddie has noticed your change lately. Just another thing for you to feel bad about. You shift awkwardly, moving out from under Eddie’s arm, where you were nestled comfortably. 

“N-Nothing’s wrong.”

Eddie gives you a disbelieving look. You can’t blame him; that was some pretty shitty bluffing.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, “you think I don’t know you well enough to tell when something’s wrong? When you’re lying?”

“You do,” you admit, voice low and soft. 

It’s a mutual instinct, though, as you can read Eddie just as well. The sadness in his eyes cracks your heart in two, knowing you’re what’s causing it. 

“Talk to me,” Eddie says, taking one of your hands. He holds your hand in both of his and gently massages it. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, trying to avoid his eyes. “I just feel…off lately.”

“How so?”

Embarrassment grows inside of you, blooming like a flower—or maybe a weed. It’s hard for you to bring yourself to tell Eddie the truth–it just makes you feel even more pathetic than you already are. There’s no use trying to keep it from him any longer, though. 

“Like I’m not…enough.”

“Enough? Enough of what?” Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion as he keeps rubbing his thumbs along the back of your hands. 

“Well, enough for you,” you admit as you feel your cheeks burn with the humiliation that the truth brings.

“Me?” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together, and he shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

You breathe out a defeated sigh that breaks Eddie’s heart and take your hand from his grasp. 

“I see all the other girls,” you say, anger creeping into your tone. Not anger at Eddie or at the other girls; anger at yourself for being so inferior. “They’re so pretty and smart and I can’t help but wonder why you want to be with me.”

Every word you say confuses and shocks Eddie even further.

“You…huh?” Eddie says, mind not able to comprehend what’s going on. In his mind, there is not a single dimension or alternate reality where you aren’t enough for him. It’s simply not possible. 

“I’m not hot enough for you,” you say with a sniffle and a shrug. “Or smart enough. Or nice enough, or funny enough—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie says, waving his hands in front of him. “You’re not serious, are you?”

The look on your face and the tears about to spill from your eyes when you look at him tell him that you are, though. Eddie can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle and shake his head.

Your brow furrows at his laughter and a tear escapes your eye and makes its way down your cheek. Panic flashes in Eddie’s eyes when he sees your reaction and he’s quick to remedy the situation. 

“Oh, no, no!” he says. His hands come up to cup your face and his thumb wipes away your rogue tear. “I don’t think it’s funny. Well, in a way I kind of do. You think you’re not enough for me? Sweetheart, you really have no idea how amazing you are, do you?” When your only reply is another sniffle, Eddie sighs. “I don’t understand how you could think that,” he says. “You do know you’re dating the town freak, right?”

“But you’re not,” you insist defiantly. 

“And you’re not all those mean things you think about yourself.” He lets his hands fall down to your lap and takes your smaller ones in his. “Babe, you’re so insanely hot I can’t even believe you noticed me.”

Eddie chuckles and squeezes your hands. “And aren’t you the one always helping me with homework? Don’t I always get better grades when you help me?”

Eddie sighs and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. You’re both quiet for a few moments. Eddie lets his eyes slip closed for a second before looking at you once again.  

“I hate that you’ve been feeling so down about yourself. I wish you saw yourself like I do. You’d see that you’re the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the world. Who is smart, who is kind, who is funny, who is everything she tells herself she’s not.” He leans in and presses a soft, sweet kiss against your lips. “I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world,” he tells you.

“I love you, too,” you reply in a whisper, tear tracks staining your cheeks. 

“Now, look at me,” Eddie says. He sits up straight and looks you in the eye.

“I am,” you say in a small voice.

“Am I lying?”

You know him so well, know when he’s telling even the slightest fib. But there’s no sign of that in Eddie’s eyes nor on his face at all. 

“No,” you admit.

“Come here,” Eddie says with a sigh, opening his arms for you.

Immediately you fall into them and nuzzle your face against his shirt. It’s your safe place; everything is always better when your head is on Eddie’s chest.

“Promise you’ll tell me when you have these thoughts, yeah?” he asks and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “And I’ll remind you that they’re not true. That you’re my gorgeous, brilliant girl. Promise me?”

“I promise,” you say, tilting your head up to look him in the eye.

He kisses your lips a few times, punctuating the message of his words. 

“You're my favorite,” he whispers against your mouth as you part. 

“Favorite what?”

“Everything.”

[leonw4nter]

Holding Our Dreams As You Lie To Rest

Dad!RE4R!Leon x F!Reader

“Time of birth, 2:31 AM.”

“Time of death, 2:31 AM.”

The nurse lays his newborn daughter on her mother’s still chest, the first and final time his daughter would ever get to feel her mother. Her unbroken cries drowned out the beeping of the heart monitor, a stark contrast to the state of eternal peace her mom will forever be in. They kept their daughter on her chest for a few more moments before lifting her back up, her cries growing louder as her tiny hands stretched out to try and hold on to her mom as if she knew she would never see, feel, hear or be with her again. Leon felt as if he’d been killed twice, losing a life in the same moment he gained a new one; he wanted to cry, to scream, and gently rock your body back and forth but he can’t– he has to be a father. He has to. He bends down, taking her cold hand in his trembling ones and presses kisses as he looks up at you. Eyelids curtained your eyes that once held a brightness greater than a million suns, pale lips fixed into a straight line; lips that would never smile again. He moves over to your face; you’re still beautiful, even when death stole the color and life from your features. He hugs you tight and buries his face in the nook of her neck, softly sobbing and whispering apologies as he strokes your hair one last time; you always loved it when he did that. Doctors come in and unplug her from the machines, fixing her before draping white linen over her body and taking that bed out of the hospital room. A nurse approaches Leon with a small voice, her own eyes slightly glossy as she extends her arms and gently moves the baby to Leon. He takes her in his arms, a flurry of overwhelming emotions overriding his ability to process this moment.

“I’m sorry, my dearest daughter.” he whispers. “I’m sorry for robbing you of the chance to have a mother.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s growing so fast, honey. She’s a strong girl just like her dad,” you softly say as you pat your growing belly. Leon is splayed out right on top of you, situating himself on your legs and nuzzling his cheek into the side of your belly.

“Yeah. 3 months more and I’ll have two girls in my life,” he softly says with a smile.

“Baby?”

“Hm?”

“Have you thought of names for her?”

“Hm… no. Not yet. I want you to be the one to name her. I mean– you’ll know her best. You’re going to be carrying her for nine months, it’s only right that you’ll get to name her.”

“Don’t you have any ideas for names?”

“I have some in mind.”

“Like what?”

“Araminta, but we can call her ‘Minty’ for short. It sounds cute, right? What about ‘Cassandra’? I was asking Hunnigan for some ideas and she offered that and I think it’s nice too. ‘Jewel’ sounds great too. Oh– what about ‘Stella’? I think it’s a very pretty name.”

A twinkling laughter escapes your lips as Leon lists out all the names he finds pretty, musing about possible combinations that sound prettiest. Another hand moves to the top of his head, gently ruffling white spun-sun strands in between your fingers, a pleased hum reverberating throughout Leon’s chest. The laughter stays short-lived when you feel a kick to your rib, causing you to jerk and yelp.

“You alright, Y/N?” Leon asks as he sits up, eyebrows creasing in concern.

“Yeah. The baby just kicked,” she says with a small smile. “Nothing too serious.”

Leon bends down as he places a kiss on the top of your bump, his hands resting on your waist as he draws small circle patterns with the rough pads of his fingers.

“My precious daughter, don’t kick your mom too much, okay? Don’t keep her up at night and give her some time to rest. Daddy’s going to be here for you, don’t worry. We can’t wait to meet you too.”

Leon would give up anything and everything if it means keeping his girls safe and sound. He’d hold the sky up if it meant providing a secure sense of safety and happiness for his wife and daughter.

“Oh? She stopped kicking.” you softly say with an amused lilt to your voice. “Guess all I needed was for you to speak for her.”

“She’s a smart girl, just like her mother. God, I’m too lucky to have you both in my life.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Claire, can… can you come over? She won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do…” Leon hoarse at the other end of the line as he holds his daughter with one arm and his phone in the other. His daughter has been crying endlessly, depriving them both of sleep. He’s tried everything– soft singing, rocking her back and forth, feeding, checking her diapers, burping, readjusting the swaddling of her cloth but none would calm her down.

Oh, Y/N. I don’t know what to do. She needs you. I need you too. Can you come back to us? Please?

“Have you tried laying her near some of Y/N’s sweaters?” Claire suggests. “God you’re so stupid for not considering that. She might be missing her mom,” Leon thinks to himself. Placing the phone down, he rushes to his and Y/N’s room to find her favorite sweater. He lays the pastel lime-green sweater on her crib before placing her down, gently patting her belly and pressing kisses to her puffy cheeks.

“C’mon honey. Please… please stop crying. I-I don’t know what to do, I’m sorry that mom’s not here right now- Dad’s really sorry, sweetie.” Leon quietly says as he feels some of his own tears stream down his cheek.

Eventually, she stops crying and falls asleep. Leon looms over her, her tiny hand holding on to his thumb. He feels pity for her; he broke the promise of making sure she grows up in a perfect family. He feels as if he doesn’t deserve his daughter, he couldn’t even grant Y/N the dream of becoming a mother. She had long wished for a child of her own, to be able to be a mother and he couldn’t give her that. She carried his child for nine months, enduring morning sickness, swelling ankles, and every single bodily hysteric and he didn’t even give her a chance to see your daughter.

The faint noise of the doorbell from downstairs shakes Leon from his thoughts, putting on a shirt and going downstairs to pick up the door.

“Claire?”

“You just suddenly dropped the call after I suggested the sweater thing so I came down and went here. How’s she? Is she asleep?”

“Yeah. The sweater did just the trick.” he bitterly says. A silence lingers between the two for a bit before he speaks up. “I miss her, Claire. I miss Y/N. I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know if–” his voice cracks. “I don’t know if I’m up for this without her.”

Claire moves to Leon and engulfs him in a tight hug, tears of her own flowing down her freckled cheeks. Y/N’s death was not easy for everyone who gracefully waltzed into her life– Chris, Claire, Rebecca, and Jill all hurting in their own way but not as profoundly deep and scarring as Leon.

“I know you do. We all miss her, Leon.”

Leon sobs into her shoulder, his body shaking as choked sobs leave him. Truly, he felt like the worst person in the world.

“Claire, look at me. Look at her– I took Y/N away from my own daughter. I stole her own mother away and she’s never fucking coming back! I’m lost and nothing without her, I don’t even know how to stop my daughter from crying. My daughter needs Y/N and I can’t give her that. All I can provide for her are pictures and her clothes because there’s no mother to sing and hold her.”

Claire holds him tighter, her hands gently patting Leon’s back as she stays silent and lets Leon spill all of his feelings.

“She wouldn’t be fucking dead had I brought her to the hospital two hours earlier. If only I listened to her and took her there when she started bleeding instead of choosing to mow the damn lawn I wouldn’t have ruined my daughter’s life from the start. Her heart would not have failed her– I wouldn’t have failed her if I was actually a decent man, Claire.”

“Leon, you’re more than decent. You’re doing everything you can for your daughter and that’s what matters–”

“But I’ll never fill in the Y/N shaped hole in her tiny heart. No one and nothing ever could, no matter how hard I try.”

Leon’s fought all kinds of monsters and abominations, barely making it back each time but it was worth it to see his Y/N’s brilliant face beaming at him everytime he stumbled home. If he could save someone from the horrors of bioterrorism, why couldn’t he save his own wife by simply sending her to the hospital two hours earlier than he should’ve?

Claire couldn’t say anything. It’s not that she agreed with whatever self depreciating fact Leon said but whatever words she would say won’t make anything feel better. Y/N shaped Leon into who he is now– changing and transforming him into a person no one knew Leon could be capable of becoming and her death simply left Leon a shattered and broken person; a shell of his former self. Leon would go through that fateful night in Raccoon City a hundred times again if it meant having her back– even if Y/N would fall out of love with him or be destined with someone else, as long as she was happy and alive. Happiness is the last thing Leon deserves right now. Standing at the doorway of his home, Claire held the shattered pieces of the blond and offered him a shoulder to cry his broken heart on.

Later that night, Leon laid down on his side of the bed whilst he moved his daughter to Y/N’s side so that she would be around her scent. He enjoyed silent nights with you, just laying in the same bed and smiling at the fact that he married the maker of all his dreams but now the silence was a painful reminder that a half of him perished forever. He left her things as they were before the two headed to the hospital, not wanting to wash the clothes she wore just to have some form of her around for just a little longer. He left the mug she drank from untouched as well and he didn’t bother to hide the bath products Y/N left behind in the shower. Her makeup products were still neatly lined up on the counter and he often wore her hair ties on his wrist but he avoided looking at the wedding band she took off. Y/N’s fingers have started swelling and on doctor’s advice, she took it off but kept it around her neck with a chain. The funeral was especially difficult, seeing her lie so stiffly with her features looking a little different. He didn’t have time to grieve because her parting gift needed him the most. Speaking of parting gift, he finds himself thinking that she left him a tiny version of herself to keep him company. She’d absolutely berate him if he gave up now so he hanged on with what little might he had left in him, giving his all for their daughter. He goes to sleep with the prayer that he’ll see Y/N, even for just a quick moment. Even if it’s just in his distant dreams.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

6 years later.

“Do you want more sandwiches or is that enough already?” Leon asks his now 6 year old daughter.

“Nuh-uh. I’m full already.” she responds. Leon moves from his place and inches towards his daughter, a wet wipe in hand to wipe some crumbs from the corner of her lips before pulling out another wipe to wipe her greasy fingers.

“Wanna know something, daddy?” she suddenly asks.

“Hm? What is it?” he responds.

“Auntie Claire told me that our loved ones in heaven send us signs sometimes. She says her own mom sends her and she says she feels a lot better when her mom does. Has mommy ever sent us a sign?”

The question takes Leon off-guard, his gaze drifting to your marble headstone before returning back to his daughter. With a pained grin, he responds to her question.

“Yeah. Mommy likes simple things that make us happy, so to me, she appears as a warm drink on a cold day. Sometimes she’s a particularly nice ray of sunlight. Sometimes, she’s the rain that waters plants. I guess those are signs she sends us.” and I hope you send some more, Y/N. I still miss you.

“So does that mean Mommy’s sign can be a good bedtime story?”

“Yeah.”

She thinks a little more, getting up and giving her mom’s headstone a small pat. With a tiny finger, she traces her name and date of birth.

“We saw a tiny kitten with blue eyes on the way here, right daddy?”

“Mhm. Why? Do you want a kitten?”

“Maybe. But Uncle Chris told me that mommy’s favorite color was blue. I found it weird at first because blue is a boy’s color but Aunt Jill said that it’s a color for anyone. She also said that blue is mommy’s favorite color because it’s the color of your eyes.”

Leon fights back tears, a surprised laugh making its way through his throat despite a lump forming. He nods, his heart fluttering at the fact.

“Yeah, it was, though a lot of her things weren’t blue. Mommy’s an interesting person that way.” he fondly remembers.

Y/N’s death anniversary doesn’t get easier any year, the unbearable pain of remembering her longer than he’s known her weighing on his tattered heart. His daughter finally comes back to him and sits beside him on the picnic blanket, a tiny hand reaching out to hold Leon’s. He can’t believe his own daughter would want to hold the same hand that gets dirty with the blood and muck of biological hellions.

“Auntie Ashley told me you also used to have a friend named Luis when you were in Spain. She said he was funny and smart and nice. Do you think Mommy and Luis are best friends in heaven? She needs someone there too because we’re both still here.”

“Yeah. I hope they’re friends.” Leon had to respond in a more hushed voice to keep his voice from cracking and his tears from spilling, his daughter’s innocence both warming and shattering his heart. “You have her eyes and her lips. Your eyes wrinkle the same way as hers when something makes her smile bright and you scrunch your nose when something makes you laugh. In your face, she is alive.”

NOTE - First angst on this blog!! Woooo!!!! I blasted Mitski while writing this and luckily I did NAWT cry (-> cried in the shower instead). If you're feeling a little sad now that I wrote this, feel free to check out my other fics that are NOT angst (shameless self-advertisement /j). That's all and thanks for reading!!!!! :) UPDATE: Leon photocards haven't arrived yet.

The wave dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[sanakiras]

DISTRACTION

PAIRING — xu minghao x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.5k

SYNOPSIS — you can’t help staring at your best friends’s hands. when he pushes you to tell him why, things in your relationship take a turn.

TAGS — minghao in a suit, explicit sexual content, pure self-indulgence, porn with no plot, fem!reader

NOTE — there’s something sooo attractive about a man having long fingers. also i just have a crush on the8. no i will not elaborate. might delete this later bc i don’t like it. oh well. enjoy :o

lately, whenever being around your best friend, you’ve been... distracted.

for some reason, you’ve always liked it when men have long fingers. obviously the best known reason for that is a lewd one, but for you, it’s more than that. long fingers are hypnotizing to you.

of course it was minghao’s face that drew you in first. plump lips, eyes that could both kill and make you melt under their gaze, a strong jaw, dark hair often slicked back with a pair of sunglasses sitting on top.

then you noticed his figure. minghao is tall — long legs, long arms, long torso. what drew you in about him was the control he has over it, alongside his flexibility. his movement is always swift, sharp and coordinated. not one to stumble over his own feet.

he became a close friend to you in no-time. within the first months of meeting him, you developed an admiration towards him, and that continued to grow into a crush you feel nothing if not insecure about.

because despite knowing him well, he’s far from an open book.

he’s not once given you the idea that he likes you the same way you like him, and now that he’s become such a good friend of yours, the last thing you’d want is to lose the friendship you’ve built with him.

so you keep it to yourself.

or, well, you try.

his current outfit makes that ridiculously hard. you’ve never seen him in a suit before.

while you weren’t all that excited for the black-tie event hosted by your faculty, just the sight of him has changed your mood like a whole day’s worth of caffeine.

and when he walks over to you, all you can do is admire him. the fabric suits his body like a glove, with several silver rings adorning his fingers and his frequently worn small hoop earrings to match them. the beautifully subtle black eye pencil brings out the colors of his eyes and styled hair.

“you look like a dream,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth when he steps before you, the tone of his voice as gentle as the smile he gives you.

heat rushes to your cheeks. “so do you. never expected to see you in a suit, but you clean up nice.”

he chuckles at your sarcasm. “thank you.”

as he tells you about — whatever it is, you honestly hardly remember a thing of the conversation — you suddenly come to the deafening conclusion that you’re nowhere near as subtle with your glances as you thought you were, which certainly bursts your bubble a bit.

“you keep doing that.” he muses, tilting his head as he looks at you with curiosity.

“what?”

“staring at my hands.”

“i’m not—i don’t stare.”

“what else would you call it? constant-looking?”

“hilarious. really.”

when you don’t say anything else, he purses his lips, hoping to get a little more out of you. you’ve got to give him credits for his determination. “so, what’s so interesting about my hands?”

with a simple shrug of your shoulders, you pretend to be casual, like he didn’t catch you staring at him. “they’re not interesting, just… nice.”

“nice?”

“can’t we just drop this? and by ‘we’ i mean you.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “we’re friends. you can tell me, i won’t judge.”

“you? not judging anyone? that’d be almost suspicious.”

the retort makes him smile to the point it hurts his jaw. “i won’t judge you.”

a sigh rolls past your lips. “it’s no big deal, i just… like it when people have nice hands.”

“and why’s that?”

“does everything you like need to have a reason?”

"no, i guess not."

a playfulness that stirs doubt in you flashes behind his eyes, and you’re forced to put a halt to the conversation when one of your fellow faculty members walks up to the two of you with a glass of champagne, which you could not be happier with.

all you can do is hope minghao won’t bring up the topic again, the redness in your cheeks betraying you.

unfortunately, he does eventually bring it up again, once he’s gotten you home.

what his exact words were is difficult to remember, but now that he’s pushed you back onto your bed, you can’t find it in you to give a damn.

your brain feels foggy and a thin layer of sweat begins to form on your neck while he uses his hands to unbutton the white dress shirt, his impatience getting the best of him for once.

even though you’re busy pulling your top off, it’s hard to divert your gaze from his hands and chest, which brings him to tilt his head at you. “you’re staring again.”

“if you don’t want me to stare, don’t give me a reason to.”

“oh, so this whole thing is really just my fault?” he taunts, getting so annoyed with the damn buttons on his shirt not working with him that he leaves the bottom half like it already was, only the upper half of his chest peeking through.

once he lays his eyes on your half-naked form, you spot a growing desperation and impatience in his features, which is rare on him.

much to your surprise, he’s eager and quick, refusing to waste a single second. his hands have already pulled you towards him by your thighs before you can even comprehend it.

the thin silver necklace touches your warm skin when he leans down to kiss you, the last thing you’d imagined you’d be doing tonight — and it’s better than you anticipated.

he pries your legs open with a nudge of his knee, and just when you want to look down to his hand on your skin, he pushes two fingers into you, curling it upwards.

your hands immediately fly to his upper arms in response to the sudden intrusion, but it only makes you crave more.

his lips latch onto your cheeks, jaw and neck, placing wet kisses everywhere he can reach while his long fingers move in and out of you.

“just two and you’re already so tight — you can take another one, though, can’t you?”

how sweet of him to pose it as a question, an offer.

you both know damn well he’s gonna keep going either way.

minghao doesn’t know what it is about you that just utterly sets him off. it might be your constant pessimism, your snarky delivery of sarcastic little comments, the way you needlessly tease him all the time — or maybe it’s that whenever he sees you, he wants nothing more for you to get the fuck on top of him, moaning his name.

who knows.

“why don’t you just try me?” you ask rhetorically, accidentally clenching around his digits when he moves them again.

minghao chuckles, baffled that you’ve still got such an attitude, even when you’re at his mercy. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, though. “right. maybe i should just do that.”

a third finger prodding into your hole makes you whine the loudest you have so far. he smirks a little when noticing the way you’re fighting so hard to maintain your composure, and the noise of your squelching wetness begins to become embarrassingly loud.

but it isn’t enough for him.

usually, it’s not at all like him to be insatiable or greedy. but all he can think of right now is that he wants more — to be closer with you, deeper.

he feels his own lust in every motion, every thrust of his fingers, every twitch of his cock. it makes him wonder if he’s ever wanted something, no, someone this badly.

his next move goes unnoticed by you since you’ve got your eyes closed and head back, but then you feel it, and it’s like you snap awake, an electric jolt making you jerk forward.

when you look down, he eagerly runs his tongue up and down your pussy, fingers remaining buried inside you.

“oh my god—” you stutter out, hand clutching onto the pillow but quickly moving down to grab his hair.

lost in your own pleasure, you push his head down, the lower half of his face coated in your arousal — fuck, he wants to do this for hours.

he proceeds to curl his fingers again, and he must’ve hit a good spot, because your legs are beginning to tremble, moans shorter and higher-pitched. “fuck, hao, it’s too much, i’m too close—”

“are you?” he rhetorically asks, pushing his digits as deep as possible, sucking on your clit, hollowing his cheeks. even when you try to close your legs, he firmly keeps them open.

your hips buck into his face when you cum, knees shaking, and he presses his thumb on your pussy, which makes your eyes roll back.

propping yourself up on your elbows, you suddenly feel his fingers slowly sliding out of you, and just that feeling alone already turns you on again. he sits across from you, still between your legs, and his fingers are completely coated in the sticky wetness that’s still dripping down your cunt.

he pushes them in his mouth, licking them clean, some of your arousal remaining on his lips.

“please say you’ll let me do that again.”

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[suuuupernovaaa]

Neteyam is angry with his beloved, and doesn’t know what to do with those feelings.

The anger deep in the pits of his stomach is manifesting in restlessness. Neteyam cannot sit still. He is pacing, throwing his arms around, shaking, anything to keep the thoughts at bay.

The image of her, bloodied, gone from him forever. He can’t shake it. Her last breath shuddering from her chest, while he wails at her side.

He throws his head back, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, willing the picture away.

“Neteyam?” his mother’s calm voice comes from just outside his mauri pod. “Come,” she beckons, and like a good son, he follows.

His mother leads him to her, where she sits at Lo’ak’s bedside, holding his hand while the healer tends to him.

He stares at her chest, watching it rise and fall, taking in healthy breaths. Her eyes dart around as tears pool in them, threatening to spill over onto her dirty cheeks.

She looks up and sees him, and clouds cross her face. His mother kneels next to her and gently nudges her, until his mate to be releases Lo’ak into his mother’s care and stands up to join Neteyam.

He turns and exits, and his beloved follows.

Far away from any prying ears, Neteyam leads them to the beach, not stopping until they are ankle deep in the quiet waters.

“I’m sorry, Neteyam,” the woman says with fear in his voice, and his anger only grows. “I did try to stop him. I’m so sorry.”

Neteyam hates himself. He hates himself for being blind, and foolish, and angry. This woman was promised to him when they were only children, and he took her for granted these nearly 18 years since. She was always there, and he grew accustomed to her presence. He forgot to delight in her.

Seeing her this morning, on the ground next to his brother, covered in blood and as still as the stars, sent such a panic and rage through him that he realized it for the first time.

The depth of his love for her. The way her smile and voice are like a warm embrace. How much he needs to see and touch her every day. How desperate he is to claim her as his own, in every way.

She is everything to him, and he thought he had lost her.

“When I saw you there, I thought you were dead. I thought I’d lost you forever.” His voice is small, measured, and he is so close to breaking into tears.

She reaches out to him, and he leans into her touch, her fingers gently resting on his cheek.

“I’m whole, ‘Teyam. I would not leave you yet.”

He opens his eyes to see her smiling.

“I’ve been so angry all day that you put yourself in danger.”

Her smile fades and he knows, for certain, that she did not realize he cared that much. He has failed her in this.

“I’ve done you a disservice, by not expressing to you before now how ardently and wholly I love you.”

He would have been too embarrassed to say the words before today, but nearly losing her has changed everything.

“You are everything to me. Absolutely everything,” he says. “I won’t lose you. Not due to your own misplaced bravery, or my brother’s foolishness. You won’t be out of my sight, from this moment forward.”

He doesn’t care how controlling it sounds. He won’t risk her for anything. Nothing else compares to her.

She steps forward and wraps her arms around his waist. He pulls her tightly to him, breathing in the saltwater scent of her braided hair as he rests his chin on the top of his head.

“I love you too. You can be my shadow, if it brings you comfort.”

He can feel her lips turn up in a smile against the skin of his chest, and he smiles too.

Her shadow.

That sounds good.

[nandolonso]

UNDISCLOSED DESIRES (Fernando Alonso x Reader)

TITLE: Undisclosed Desires – aka who is the biggest fan of whom? (Fernando Alonso x Reader)

I got inspired after Baku. P6 BABY, LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO!

FYI: English is not my main language nor is Spanish. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Word count: 4K

Warnings: self-doubt, self-image issues, kind of shy reader, reassuring and slightly dominant Nando (who worships the shit out of you), happiness, positive social media presence, Spanish, dirty talking and fingering, smuttish – I hope you enjoy it. 😉

Recommended song: Undisclosed Desires by Muse

Explanation: Y/N – your name, Y/H/C – your hair color

Also, this GIF is chef's kiss, his gaze is so intense. GOSH!!! 🔥 I hope you'll like it. Let me know what you think! ❤️‍🔥

//

It was race day in Baku.

You were sitting in the paddock waiting for Fernando Alonso to show up. Your boyfriend. It was hard to comprehend that he was your man, your partner. It was an unbelievable title – but it was true, he really was yours.

However, the last period has been challenging for both of you. On the one hand, Alonso has spent several periods away from you, as Aston Martin has struggled to get a good position in recent months. Of course, Fernando took his job very seriously, so he helped the engineers where he could. They did a lot of test laps, planning, thinking.

As for you: you were an average person. You were not a reporter or a supermodel. You were completely different from Alonso's previous partners. You were ordinary – in the best possible way. But it was a very difficult situation for you. You often questioned yourself: were you good enough? Were you good enough not only for yourself but for him? Where did you belong in this world? Especially seeing the other WAGs, and how pretty and thin they were… And you could go on. So, all that time you spent apart didn't help your already fragile mental state.

It was tough for you not to project your self-doubt onto him. And you hated yourself for it. Because there was nothing you wanted more than to be there to support him in every race. To be there for him, always. But a lot of times your state of mind, the media presence, and all the hustle and bustle didn't help you at all. That's why you stayed mostly in the background, as you didn't want Fernando to worry any more than he had been worrying lately.

Fortunately, Aston Martin recently managed to sign Adrian Newey to the team, and you could almost see the "life" returning to Fernando's eyes. The love of your life was shining as he entered the paddock: his stance was firm and confident, that mischievous smile at the corner of his mouth was back, and his gaze was sparkling with fire which you hadn't seen for a long time now.

You couldn't help thinking how good he looked. How he deserves to be world champion again. Your world champion. The thought made your chest tighten. You loved him so much it almost hurt. You wanted him to be happy and succeed so much – it was sometimes physically impossible to bear.

You have never felt this way about anyone, and you didn't want to lose him. You had been together for almost a year now, but you noticed your feelings for him growing every day. So, you thought this weekend was the perfect time to surprise him and actually show that. To be there for him not just mentally, but physically.

You pulled yourself together: you wore a custom Kimoa x Aston Martin shirt that fit your body perfectly. While you didn't have a supermodel figure, you were definitely gorgeous. You had a lot of heads turning in the paddock.  

Your Y/H/C hair glistened in the sunshine, your fingernails painted the typical "Aston Martin green". You counterbalanced the shirt with a black skort that showed off your body perfectly but wasn't too much. To top off everything, you were wearing a sneaker to keep it casual. But the way you wore Fernando's name on your body – front and back, sparkled in his colors, and carried his brand proudly, you were anything but "casual".

As soon as Fernando entered the garage, he noticed you. But he had to look twice just to make sure you were really there because he was not used to seeing you around. Although he made no secret of you, he was very aware of how much you tried to avoid the public. He could understand that you were suffering with your own demons, and he knew exactly how harsh the media could be on F1 drivers and their loved ones.  

But at that moment, he didn't care about anything or anyone. Just you. And all he felt was pride. You were a perfect fit. His perfect fit. And the fact that you were wearing Aston Martin colors, and his brand made his heart beat faster. Suddenly he didn't know what he was feeling.

The way he looked at you took your breath away for a moment. You felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room (even though it was half in the open air). The fire that flared up in Fernando's eyes was so intense, that you feared he would burn everyone alive. But mostly you.

Your feet rooted to the ground; you gulped as he strode confidently towards you.

"Mi vida," Fernando began, and leaving you no time to think, he pulled you close to him, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.

In that moment you forgot that other people were standing around you. There were probably a few photos taken of you, but you didn't care. At that moment, it was just the two of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you to deepen the kiss.

Not only his eyes were fiery, but so was the passion he kissed with. There was almost no space left between the two of you as he pulled you shut to him, his hand holding your waist tightly.

Your tongues brushed against each other to have a taste. You almost moaned out loud at the sensation, and you knew you had to stop now, or you wouldn't be able to contain yourself. This man brought out emotions that you never had before. With him... Well, you were always horny, so to speak.

Your cheeks heated up at the thought of him taking you there and then, so you broke the kiss. You tilted your forehead to his.

"Nando," you said breathlessly. "People are watching."

"I don’t care, mi amor," he replied, his Spanish accent getting heavier, which tends to come out when he's very passionate or angry. You hoped it was the former. "Estoy tan contenta de verte," he murmured into your lips in Spanish. It meant he was very happy to see you. You have spent the last year trying to learn as much of the language as possible, which he of course appreciated. You were of a different nationality as well and English was your common language.

You learned a lot from him in bed. He was quite vocal – to say the least. Calling you pet names and talking through it… Enough, you thought to yourself, snapping out of your trans.

Fernando laughed at your expression and how easy it was to make you riled up just with a simple sentence. It was as if he could see inside your head. It was easy for him to read you. And he enjoyed teasing the hell out of you.

He pulled you closer to him for a hug and pressed a short kiss to your forehead.

"I'm really glad that you're here," he said once again, this time in English, squeezing you gently to mark his words. "And you look beautiful too," You hugged him around the waist, burying your face in his chest and taking in his intoxicating scent. The smell that always kept you going: something leathery and woody. It was very masculine, but somehow still comforting and reassuring. Thanks to Boss. They were doing God's work with this man.

"Here to support the best," you muttered into his shirt. You pulled away from him for a moment to look him in the eye. "I'm your biggest fan, I hope you know that." He loved the way you were looking up at him: the way you were glowing with love and desire. How your lips were swelled up after the kiss, how you stood there in the garage, proud to belong to him.

Alonso was like you. He hasn't felt that way about anyone for a very long time. And although he did everything he could for you, somehow it was very difficult for him to talk about his feelings. And not because he was ashamed of them or because he wasn't sure of himself – he was too sure of what he felt. And it frightened him. He was afraid to open up and might lose you. He was old enough to know what he wanted, and he didn't want to start over again with anyone else. All he wanted was you. In the end, somehow, he was still afraid. You had been together for about a year, but he was afraid to say those particular three words, even though he kept calling you "my love" and its synonyms in Spanish.

And at the moment as he looked at you… He was sure. He was sure he wanted you for the rest of his life and that you weren't his biggest fan, but more like vice versa. And he wanted to prove it to you.

He pulled you into his embrace once more.

"I know, mi amor," he mumbled into your hair and pressed another kiss to the top of your head. "I'll put myself out there, just for you," he added with a gentle chuckle. You squeezed him and then let him go, knowing how much he had to do before the race. You took a few steps back just to take him in, now there was even more determination in his eyes than before. Fernando was almost vibrating with excitement, knowing you were there to cheer and support him. And there was something in his eyes as well that made the butterflies in your stomach revive.

"I…" you wanted to say something, but how his eyes softened with tenderness made you speechless. He slowly reached for your hands, his fingertips gently caressing the soft skin of your palm.

"Can I take some photos of you guys?" suddenly one of the team members of Aston Martin popped between the two of you. He was clearly making some content for the team's social media channel and even though you were nervous, you somehow felt put together and wanted to support Fernando all the way. "You look so good together," he added with a soft smile. You tried to find lies in his eyes, but he seemed sincere. Maybe it's time to really believe that you're GOOD and that you looked great together. Fernando Alonso wasn't with you for nothing.

Fernando looked at you and waited for your approval. You nodded slightly and Alonso immediately pulled you to him by the waist.

"The best girl on the grid," Alonso said loudly and proudly, pushing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help but smile at his affection and you pulled him closer to you as well, while the social media guy snapped a few pics.

After that, he showed you all the pictures. As Fernando looked at you in the photos, all his emotions were clear: his eyes radiated with love and respect. And you were definitely glowing next to him. The guy went on to show you some of the photos, eventually stopped when he had taken the two of you kissing. You indeed looked very good together.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he mumbled to himself. Fernando tensed for a moment next to you, waiting for any protest. But you didn't. You really did look good together and wanted nothing more than to show the two of you to the world.

"It’s okay," you started. "The pictures are really great," you reassured the guy and Fernando next to you loosened up. He pressed another kiss to your temple then took a few steps back.

"I'm sorry, mi amor, but I have to go now," he said. "Enjoy the race," Fernando added with a wink. That damn wink. And that damn smirk. Gosh, that will be the end of you. Pendejo.

You turned back towards the social media guy, and at that moment you realized that because of his interference, you didn't say out loud what you wanted to a few moments ago. You wanted to declare your love to Fernando for the very first time, out loud, but now you missed your chance…

"Can I take a few more of you, especially the shirt and nails?" he asked shyly, snapping you out of your thoughts. "You seem like a truly great soul who supports and respects Alonso, and I want to show that to the world," you were almost touched by his words. You were definitely genuine with Fernando and didn't want to use him for anything. You were just there because you were his greatest fan. And that was the best thing for you.

You nodded softly and you guys managed to make a full-on photoshoot in the end. You were surprised at how liberated you felt at the end, and you even chuckled and did some "model-poses."

"You're a natural," he chuckled but you soon stopped as the race began.

//

The race was very exciting. Full of overtaking and adrenaline. At the end of the race, Alonso managed to score P6, which is a very big word from Aston Martin these days. You couldn't help but be excited all the way through, expressing emotion and knowing you were going to be all over social media, but you didn't care. Because Fernando Alonso won. In your eyes that P6 was P1.

After the race, you ran up to him and hugged him. He still had his mask on, but you pressed a kiss to the plexiglass. Of course, the cameras were clicking around you, but you didn't care. Because you were incredibly happy, and you were glad for Alonso. And at that moment, that was all that mattered. If it didn't bother him that you were in every picture (and it probably didn't, because he'd asked you to come with him to the paddock countless times), why would it have bothered you?

In that moment you realized that even though you never said those three words, it was clear how you felt about each other. Alonso lifted you up as he celebrated.

"Yes, baby," he said then laughed. You loved it when he was so excited. And you couldn't wait to see what the new season would bring him under Newey's aegis.

//

A few hours after the race, you were sitting in your hotel room looking at your phone.

Social media, especially Aston Martin's official Instagram page, was full of you and Fernando. You couldn't stop smiling as you saw the hashtag #couplegoals and the many, many supportive comments from fans. What were you afraid of in the first place?

Sure, there will always be some people who don't like certain things, but the majority of commenters were supportive. At least, most of them. You locked your phone and looked out the window. You were thinking about everything that happened that day and you couldn't help but admire the wonderful view of the old town of Baku. You tried to take in every little detail, but your mind kept wandering back to how truly happy you looked at those pictures. And how you guys looked good together.

You let a soft sight as you snapped back to reality. You were waiting for Alonso and he was always on time. You were more the late type, but now you're well ahead of schedule. You wanted everything to be perfect. Not just for the night but for you as well. After the race, you took a thorough bath, did the typical "girly routine", used lotion, did your hair, your make-up... You wore his favorite perfume that made you both sweet and seductive – just to make sure he loses his mind. Then you put on an Aston Martin green evening dress that perfectly accentuated your figure and hid what you were less than happy with. That's how you were waiting for him as the two of you arranged to have dinner tonight to celebrate his placing. Just the two of you. You took your eyes off the city and slowly stood up and went to the full-length mirror in the corner of your bedroom to examine yourself.

You've smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on your dress, but you've looked quite nice – even you were satisfied, which is a big thing. You nodded to yourself, just when you heard a knock on your door.

Slowly you walked over and opened it. There stood Alonso, in all his glory. He was wearing a black shirt and a black suit. For some reason, the color combination looked very good on his skin. His stubble was short and thick, the hair was all set. You were instantly struck by the typical "Alonso scent", the leathery, woody, Boss-y fragrance. Gosh, he looked delightful. Your mouth almost watered at the sight.

But as he looked at you, he was the one taken aback. You looked like an angel in that green dress. And he was ready to be your demon in that black attire of his, to lead you into the dark mysteries of the night as his eyes locked with yours. You were like the perfect match for him: black and white, Ying and Yang to each other.

"Y/N," he basically growled, as he stepped closer to you, his accent heavy. He tried crossing the distance between the two of you. The emotions of the whole day were stirring inside him. As he stepped closer, you stepped back. He looked at you as if he were the hunter and you were his prey.

His eyes burned with a fire you'd probably never seen from him before. You were almost afraid that as soon as he got close to you, it would burn. And you weren't sure you didn't want to burn all the way.

As you stepped back, he stepped forward one more step, closing the door behind him.

The back-and-forth game continued until you got to the bed. As soon as your knee hit the thing, a truly devilish smile spread across Fernando's face. His eyes almost darkened, with only one thing in his mind: you. Oh, he wanted to explore every inch of you like he'd never done before.

Suddenly you didn’t know why, maybe because of the intensity of his gaze, you felt very shy. You felt almost naked even though you were fully dressed up. You were almost certain that he saw right through you and he could see your flaws and mistakes. At least, that's how you were with yourself. Because when it always came to "that", it was very hard to switch off and let go.

"Mi amor," he started. "Look at me!" he ordered, and you obeyed. Not that you could argue with that: he stepped closer to you to lift your chin, so you had to look him in the eye. He could read you like an open book. He knew your past, your traumas, your hurts. "I know you've suffered, but I don't want you to hide."

That sentence meant more to you than you knew. The knowledge that he saw you, like really saw you, that you didn't have to hide yourself from him, and that he accepted you as you are, said more than anything. You tried not to get emotional, but you couldn't help it as a single tear rolled out of your eye. Fernando slowly wiped it away with his finger.

His gaze became a touch gentler, his hand slid down your face, down your arm, all the way to your fingers. There he intertwined his with yours and slowly guided you to the mirror.

"What are you doing?" you asked quietly.

"Trust me," he said confidently, as you stood in front of the mirror. The mirror was tilted a little so you could see both of your figures quite well.  "You are the one," he whispered softly to your ear from behind.

You shivered a little, then let go and leaned against his chest. You closed your eyes for a moment, enjoying the way Fernando stroked your arm again, from the bottom all the way up to your neck.

"What do you mean?" you asked softly, leaning your head back to his shoulder.

"As I said, mi amor," the words rolled out of his tongue. "You're the one for me." You opened your eyes and again met that burning look in the mirror as he held your gaze. "I love you, Y/N, just the way you are," he admitted. "Completely and utterly."

The air caught in your throat at the confession. You looked at him with eyes full of emotion, then turned in his arms so that you were face to face with him.

You tried to analyze every little movement of his. Was it true? All the alarm bells went off in your head, but you wanted to believe it. And he seemed sincere. You deserve to be happy too, so it's time to give yourself to it.

 "I love you so much, it almost hurts," you confessed as well. Fernando grabbed the fabric of your dress, it was really hard for him to contain himself. His lips hovered just a few inches above yours.

His chest tightened at the sound of your words, and he could barely restrain himself from taking you at that moment. But he wanted to make sure you felt worshipped and loved – just how you deserved it.

He brushed his lips against yours, looking at your reaction. Your breath hitched in your throat, and he loved the sight of it. He wanted you to see it as well. He wanted you to see how he makes you react. And how he makes you feel good.

He firmly but gently started to turn your hips between his hands. He encouraged you to turn back, so his chest could face your back and you could see yourself in the mirror once again.

"I'm only going to say this once, mi amor," he began, running his hand down your arm again. His voice was firm and dominant. You just loved it when he was like that with you. You knew deep down he was devoted and wanted only good things for you. "Keep your eyes on me," he said in the mirror. "I know it's hard," he added. "But can you do it for me, princess?"

You swallowed hard and nodded.

"Así amor," he murmured into your neck.

He placed a slow kiss on the back of your neck, then moved his hand lower, now on your hip. There he firmly grabbed the dress and almost ripped it off you so that now you were standing in front of the mirror in just your underwear. As he saw the black lace piece, another growl erupted from his throat.

"Mierda," he cussed at the sight of you. You would have preferred to hide. You didn't want to tear yourself away from his gaze, but you didn't want to look at yourself either.

Just like he could read your mind he said: "You're beautiful," sliding his hand from your waist to your stomach, so that he could slowly slip his hand inside your panties. "What did I say, mi amor?" he asked in a dominant voice, suddenly stopping in his movements.

You knew exactly what he meant: you swallowed hard. Once again.

"To look at you," you answered, searching for his eyes again. As your gazes interlaced, he began to move his hands once again.

"Así es," he whispered softly into your neck, then left a hot trail of kisses behind. At the same time, he started to move his fingers skillfully, reaching for the perfect spot: where he could feel your aching desire for him. The need started to pool between your legs larger and larger.

You wanted to close your eyes and lean back to him, to lose fully to the sensation but you knew him just well enough that if you would do that he would stop. He kept eye contact while his fingers were deep inside you. The demon in black, your demon who wanted nothing but to make his angel come undone at his touch and mercy.

"Nando," you whispered, as you looked at the two of you in the mirror.

"Sí, mi amor?" he asked, looking into your eyes while he kept his steady rhythm, collecting your wetness on his fingers, now pressing the end of his palm to your core. You bite down at your lower lips at the sensation, letting out a soft moan. "Use your words, princess," he smirked, knowing how hard it was to concentrate right now. He loved seeing you like this, and you loved the effect you had on him, as you could feel his hardness pressing against your behind. His intense gaze, his body, his touch, and his words almost sent you over the edge. Almost.

Then he suddenly stopped. You let out a frustrated breath and you get a chuckle in return.

"I…" you gasped and then shut up.

"Sí, mi amor?" he asked once again, tilting his head to the side as he was looking at you in the mirror. You desperately craved some friction, you even tried to rub together your thighs, but nothing helped.

"I…" you started once again, and he looked at you with encouraging eyes. "I want to…" your cheeks heated up at your words and you didn't even know why. "I want to cum." you finally managed to blurt out. 

He let out a chuckle, grabbing your hips with one of his hands and he slid back his other under your panties.

"Was it so hard, princessa?" he asked, and he started using his fingers again. This time more passionately and faster. With one hand you grabbed Fernando's forearm while still trying to keep your eyes on him. "That’s it," he told you as he tried to help you finally push over the line. He knew how much you loved him when he talked you through it. "I want you to see how beautiful you are when you come undone for me," he whispered into your ear and that's what it took. You shook in his arms as you finally reached the highest highs, fireworks playing before your eyes and at this point, you couldn't help but close your eyes. Your feelings for him, his voice, his touch – it was just too much. You suddenly stumbled, but he was there to catch you. And he always will be.

"That's it, mi amor," he whispered, holding you close to him, while he pressed soft kisses to your neck as he guided you through your high.

For a few moments, you stayed in silence. Then he spoke: "I'm your biggest fan, I hope you know that," he repeated your words from earlier. Your chest tightened at his confession, and you turned in his embrace, now facing him. A soft and loving smile played on your lips as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“But you’re the one who won, we should celebrate you,” you said mischievously. You started to push him back towards the bed where he sat down, so you could straddle him. Fernando groaned as he felt you move against him. His whole body was becoming hard.

“Oh, we will celebrate, mi vida,” he chuckled darkly. “All. Night. Long.” he said and kissed you with so much passion that it consumed the two of you. Each one was like a promise, a seal, a mark for your happiness and a long, prosperous future together.

[n6ptunova]

can’t take it anymore • chris sturniolo

summary: you challenged chris to last nnn to which he confidently accepted. little did he know you’d be making it extra hard for him :)

warnings: suggestive content, making out, mentions of sex. not proofread.

“bet,” he smirked. “come on babe, give me a real challenge.”

you made a bet with chris challenging him to last the entire month of november without doing it. you hadn’t really agreed on his prize if he wins, partly because you’re both just doing this to build up tension and because you had plans to make him lose. but he didn’t know this.

you guys aren’t sex addicts so this challenge wouldn’t be difficult chris thought. that was until he saw you walk through his bedroom door wearing nothing but his shirt. literally nothing else. he loved seeing you in his clothes. he turned to his phone trying to find a distraction.

you noticed this, so you decided to get his attention, “baby can you get my- actually i’ll get it myself,” you leaned over him to reach for your chapstick on the nightstand by his side of the bed, your shirt lifting as you stretch your hand and your bare ass just inches away from his face.

“shit,” he mumbled under his breath. he lightly threw his head back shutting his eyes and trying to think of anything other than pinning you down and getting a taste of you. as you sat back next to him your hand briefly grazed his crotch making him twitch.

“you okay baby?” you asked ever so innocently.

“nice try, it’s gonna take a lot more to break me.” he lied. he wanted nothing more than to have you wrapped around him. but he’s too competitive, he needed to win.

“oh i wasn’t trying to do anything,” another lie, “but hey look at this new chapstick i got its cherry flavoured.” before he had time to even process what you’re saying or doing you grabbed his face with one hand and gave him a short but passionate kiss, lingering a little so he can taste the cherry. he chased after your lips as you pulled away making you giggle.

“see?” he gathered the ability to give a quick answer, “mhm…very sweet.” that night might’ve been the first time he went to sleep before you. he knew if he stayed awake he’d give in.

a few days passed and chris still hasn’t cracked. it was time to really make it hard for him. you put on a short tank top with no bra- so everything was practically on display- along with silk booty shorts. you knew the plan was working because since he came over he hasn’t been able to stop staring at your chest. readjusting himself every time you purposefully lean over when laughing so he gets a glimpse of your tits bouncing. he was starting to get really frustrated.

“chris, what’s wrong? you seem off today,” you inched closer to him on the couch and slid your hand to the back of his neck up to his hair slowly playing with it as if to ‘ease his nerves’ but you had different intentions obviously.

“nah i’m good,” he glances down at your lips then chest and back up to your eyes, “just can’t wait for november to be over.”

“oh,” you straddled his lap placing one hand on his chest and the other cupping his face, “well babe, no one told you kissing me was off limits.” he’d avoided kissing you and pretty much anything else that caused temptation. you brought your face closer to his, lips barely touching, “i missed you,” you almost moan out that last sentence.

you had him in a trance, his eyes low, contemplating, as your thumb rubbed his cheek and your other hand slid down his chest and rested on his stomach just above the waistline of his sweats. he needed one more push, you can tell he’s so close to giving in. you started grinding painfully slow down his growing bulge, “please kiss me, chris,” you whined.

he wasted no time crashing his lips onto yours placing both of his hands on your hips with a tight grip pulling you as close as possible to him. he groaned into the kiss when you continued to grind down on him. your hands tangled in his hair as you kiss him back hard, the kiss quickly becoming sloppy as he shoved his tongue down your throat. you tug on his hair earning a moan from him.

you pulled away to take your breath and the sight in front of you was heavenly. you took a mental image of it. chris looked fucked out, hair messy, lips pink and swollen, mouth parted slightly as he breathed heavily, eyes hazy full of admiration and lust looking you up and down. you wanted more, you wanted him to fully break his streak.

you reached for the strap of your tank top, taking your time to pull it down your shoulder resting loosely on your arm as one of your tits slipped out of it right in front of his face. he almost got whiplash from how fast his eyes traveled down, readjusting underneath you again causing you to throw your head back and moan. you held onto his arms for stability and begged him, “please take it off of me. i need you chris.”

“fuck.” his name sounded like honey dripping from your mouth. he immediately starts sucking on your tit while pulling down the other strap and giving your now fully exposed breast a squeeze. you can feel him getting harder and harder under you. you grip and tug on his hair again making him moan and sending a vibration to your nipple in his mouth. he pulled away looking you straight in the eyes.

“i can’t take it anymore.”

with that he laid you down on the couch, quickly getting on top of you. his knee grazed up and down your crotch as he kissed and sucked your neck surely leaving marks everywhere. he moved down from your neck to your stomach pausing when he reached the waistband of your shorts. he looked up at you and said, “you win. okay i can’t do it anymore i need to fuck you so bad.”

and he did exactly that. it was a long week but totally worth the wait.

[thepenultimateword]

Always

Villain tried to shut the door, but Henchman was too fast, catching it by its edge before the gap could fully disappear.

“Found you," they said, half threat, half croon. They shoved into the house, knocking Villain back a few steps.

"What are you doing here?" Villain said, catching themself on the coatrack and nearly pulling it down on top of themself.

Henchman reached over Villain's head to steady it and then stayed there. Peeling back the nonchalance plastered over their shame. Taking in their altered form.

"Where have you been?" they countered, soft, knuckle raised gently against Villain's cheek before abruptly dropping again.

"Here. There. What does it matter? You found me." Villain ducked under their arm and hobbled slowly to the couch. Henchman's heavy step traveled in the opposite direction, followed by the click of the door closing, then the steps tramped back toward them. By the time Villain had plopped down on the couch cushion Henchman was kneeling in front of them. For an instant, it was like nothing had changed. Total fealty.

Villain stopped their hand short before they could touch Henchman's head. It felt wrong when they were so utterly weak. There had always been a balance, Henchman so physically intimidating, and Villain thrumming with destructive power. The upper hand, the reason for such devotion, had been crystal clear. Now, Villain could wither and scatter under Henchman's expectations.

"You completely disappeared." Henchman laid their head in Villain's lap anyway. "You were hurt and I got worried. But you didn't answer my calls. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. It's taken me 8 months to track you down. It's like you were trying to avoid me."

Villain sighed, dropping their rigidness and succumbing to the urge to stroke back Henchman's hair. It was just as soft as they remembered, thick and fluffy like an animal pelt. They twirled a piece above their ear, but avoided Henchman's watching eyes as they responded, "I was done for and everyone knew it. It was better to step down and disappear than wait for someone else to assassinate me."

Henchman reached up and took loose hold of Villain's wrist. Why was their gaze so earnest? Didn't they know? Didn't they feel the difference in them? Shouldn't that past awe and adoration be visibally dying at the sight of them?

"I would've protected you," Henchman said.

"I didn't want you to. I have too many enemies. You would have been hurt."

"Then you should've told me. I would've come with you."

"I didn't want that either."

Henchman flinched, and Villain was struck with a stab of guilt. That wasn't entirely true. Of course, Villain had wanted Henchman with them. Of course, it was agony knowing they couldn't even say goodbye. But anything but a clean break would have been worse. They couldn't just ask Henchman to give up their position, goals, and standing for life of nothing. No, more than that, they couldn't bear to see Henchman's devotion grow into disdain. The loss of their powers was the loss of their worth. Henchman would've clung to the threads of their memories but ultimately, Villain would have failed them.

Henchman dropped Villain's wrist but huddled in a little closer. "And...now that I'm here?"

Villain's heart panged. "You should go back."

Henchman hugged tight around Villain's legs, almost like a lifeline. "Why?"

Moment of truth. Time to make this permanent. “I’m not going back.”

“I know.”

“I can’t. I’m ruined. Those heroes took everything when they stripped me and left me for dead."

"I know."

"And even if I wasn’t. I still wouldn’t go back. I was getting tired. Losing focus. That's how they got me in the first place."

“I know.”

Why did they keep saying that? Obviously, they did not know if they could be so casual. This was the rest of their life!

“Henchman, I can’t give you anything anymore. I don't have the influence or power to protect you. I can't bring about a bright new world. I'm spent. A pathetic shell. You should find another person to serve. I'll never be able to give you what you want."

Henchman turned their head up at them. "Why would I want any of that?"

Villain choked. "Don't you?"

"Maybe when I was a kid. Things change over a couple decades." They lifted their head and sank back on their heels. "Your powers were amazing. It's true that they drew me to you. But I never stuck around for that. Or for the status. You're just so..." Henchman broke off, face crinkling as they searched for the word. Finally, they shrugged. "I don't know; it's too big. You spent so long taking care of me. Looking out for me. Giving me chances I didn't think I deserved. Let me do the same for you." Henchman took their hand in both of theirs, hesitantly kissing one knuckle. "Just let me be with you."

Villain flushed a little. They'd always been close. Close enough for feelings. Close enough for both to recognize it in the other. But there had never seemed to be a right time to acknowledge them out loud.

"Do you really not want me here?" Henchman said at Villain's extended silence.

"You'd be ok with a normal life?" Villain pressed. "No powers, no schemes, no money, just me?"

"It's always been just you."

Villain slid off the couch and onto the floor in front of Henchman. "Of course, I want you here."

They couldn't keep their voice from cracking in the middle and the next thing they knew they were folded up in Henchman's arms. They melted immediately. All the shame, fear, and frustration seemed to fade right out of them.

"I love you."

Henchman jolted a little, but as they pressed their head to Villain's, Villain saw a smile tugging at their lips. "Good. Then I'll always, always stay."

[luvrxbunny]

comfort

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader

Prompt: Creampie

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, loss based nightmare, piv, unprotected sex  (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.4k

A/N: my first marc spector fic!! woohoo!! not proofread but i hope you guys enjoy!

He wakes up frantic and panting, reaching blindly through the sheets until he feels your warm body and breathes a sigh of relief. His hand grips into the meat of your thigh as he takes slow deep breaths, trying to calm himself. His eyes were frozen shut, still flipping through the images of you getting hurt on his watch, of Khonsu getting a hold of you and turning you into someone he didn’t recognize.  

His eyes snap open and he sits up, leaning over you to examine your face. You still look like you… He rests his hand on your cheek, feeling your warmth before moving to your neck and breathing out another sigh of relief when he feels your veins pumping blood under your skin. His hands shake around your neck, adrenaline pumping through him at how vivid it felt. He could feel the dread, the fear, and despair of living on without you, he could feel all the dark feelings you’d chased away creeping back into his heart. 

You groan and your eyes blink open, Marc takes his hand away like your neck burned him, upset with himself for waking you up. Your eyes take a moment to focus and you’re smiling up at him as you squint, trying to focus on his face. It’s warming his heart, your little fire already sending all his bad thoughts away. Once your eyes focus your smile drops and a hand comes up to rub through his hair as you sit up a bit. “What’s wrong?” 

Your words, your soft movements, and your care have tears springing to his eyes in an instant. He averts your gaze, trying to hide the tears that now cloud his vision, you notice despite his efforts and you climb onto his lap immediately, pulling his head to cradle it to your chest. His hands slide up your back as he tries to stop his tears from falling from his eyes. You’re whispering sweet words to him, comforting him, and letting him know that he’s safe with you. “Had a dream.” 

He grits the words through his teeth but they still come out weaker than he’d prefer, letting you in on how badly it’s affected him. You coo out and leave silence, waiting for him to continue, and although he thought he wouldn’t want to talk about it, that he’d just want to move on from it- something about your embrace makes him want to open up. So he does. 

“He took you. Khonsu, and- You weren’t.” He takes a deep breath as you play with his curls and his arms tighten around you. “You weren’t you anymore.” You coo at him again and it brings a new wave of tears, pushing the others down his cheek and falling onto your tank top. “I’m not going anywhere, love.” You whisper into his hair before bringing your hands to his face and tilting it to make contact with his teary eyes. 

“I’m definitely not making a deal with him, and even if I did… Nothing could change my love for you, it’s the only constant, the only thing you’ll never have to worry about losing.” You place a featherlight kiss on his nose and one on each cheek before smiling against his lips. He crashes his against yours, his arms lock you in place as he pours gratitude into his kiss, thanking you for everything you do, for everything you are. You giggle adorably against him and deepen the kiss, timidly sliding your tongue over his lips and sliding it in once his mouth opens with a moan. His hands slide up your back to cradle your head, holding you in place as his tongue slides around your mouth. He can feel a pressure building in his cock, right beneath your clothed pussy and all his blood is rushing south. 

His kisses grow a bit frantic and his hips tilt up into you, needing some pressure on his growing erection as you whimper quietly into his mouth. His lips leave yours for your neck, pressing wet kisses to your skin and moaning at the way your hand grips his curls, guiding his lips to where you want him, and holding him in place when he finds your most sensitive spots. His hands slide down to your hips, pressing your pussy against him for a moment before hooking his fingers under the band of your panties. You moan his name softly, not wanting to break the silence of the moment and his cock throbs at the sound. 

You maneuver his head to connect your lips to his again as you lift your hips off of his lap, helping him take your panties off before sitting back down on his bulge. He swears he can feel your pussy leaking onto him, soaking his underwear in your juices, leaving a little reminder for him. He thinks about how your scent would seep into the fabric and his hips jerk into you at the thought, shoving a shocked yelp from your lips at the rough material on your clit. Your hands reach for his shoulders to ground yourself, trying to cope with the way his movements are affecting your brain. “N- Marc, I want-” You’re unable to get your sentence out because Marc hasn’t stopped thrusting against you, he can’t. 

Your face is contorted in pleasure, frozen around syllables of whatever you’re trying to say and why would he want to stop that? His eyes are fixated on your expression, how your eyebrows furrow when his movements border on pain, and how they pull inward when he rubs against you in a way that has you shivering in his lap. Your hands leave his shoulders and press into his chest, telling him to stop with your pathetic whimpers. His hips slow down begrudgingly and his hands come back up from your hips to your face, resting on your cheeks. “You okay? Are you okay?” He’s breaking his sentences up with short, frantic kisses, overwhelming your senses. 

You try to speak to him, tell him that you want him inside you now but your voice fails you, all your words coming out as incoherent whines. Your hands slide down his chest, relishing the way his muscles tense under your hands. You get to his briefs and waste no time pulling his cock out, smirking at the gasping whine that slips out of his mouth. “Yes. Oh, fuck, please.” 

His breathing is climbing, his chest beginning to heave as his hips tilt up, helping you pull his boxers a bit lower before rubbing his cock over your wet lips, thrusting your hips forward to tease him but whining when he presses into your clit. His cock twitches against you, too turned on at the sight in front of him and he grinds himself into your mound as best he can, desperate for your friction. 

You giggle/moan before settling his tip against your needy hole. He can feel the way you’re trying to suck him in, how you’re winking over his cock, wishing he was inside you already. You take a deep breath and start sinking onto him, trying not to let your eyes roll back at the way he’s stretching you out. Your legs start shaking about halfway down and you’re letting whines spill from your lips after every breath of air. Marc has his hands digging into the sheets, almost puncturing the mattress with how hard he’s gripping it. His legs are tense and shaking under you, his gaze is hard as it watches your struggling face. Your hands are tensing on his shoulders as your thighs tremble, his hands untangle from the sheets once your entire body begins to shake and they reach your hips just in time for your legs to give out.

You collapse into his chest and his eyes roll back at the way you’re already fluttering around him, letting out helpless mewls into his neck, assaulting his ears with their softness. He lowers you onto his cock quickly, working himself in a bit quicker than he normally would out of pure need. He’s groaning into the top of your head, his eyes shut tight as he tries to ignore the tingling that’s telling him he’s already close. 

You sit up, trying to calm yourself and press your lips into his with a whine as your hips begin to grind into him slowly, teasing his cock against your spasming walls. You’re more sensitive in the mornings- that’s something he already knows, but this feels like something else, like you’re completely gone for him. It’s affecting him in a way he didn’t know was possible. His hands are behind your back, gripping the fabric of your tank so roughly that you can feel his fingernails leaving marks on your skin. 

Your hips are stuttering as they grind, your body wanting to fold in on itself at the pleasure that shoots through you. Your eyes are shut tight, trying to keep enough focus to hold your pace on him. He’s panting in your ear, whimpering every now and then, his balls are throbbing beneath you, begging him to cum already. He wants to make this last though, this softness and sensitivity you’re giving him, the comfort of being completely wrapped in you, the pretty sounds you’re feeding him with, he never wants it to end. 

Your name slides out of his mouth subconsciously, since it’s the only thing on his mind and you give him a passionate whine in response. Your pussy flutters over him and you fold onto him, collapsing into his lips with a moan before pulling away. “Love you s’much, baby.” Your eyes are hazy as they look into his, winding him tighter and his hips begin to jerk into you, almost forcing his orgasm from his cock. “M’never gonna leave. Never leave you.”  His eyes roll back at your sweet words and his hands shoot to your hips. 

Your moans double in volume and quantity as he grinds you against him harshly, abusing your clit against the patch of hair at the base of his cock. His cock is pulsing for you, desperately wanting to cum all over you, hopefully on your chest or thighs, if he’s lucky you’ll let him cum on your face or tummy. His pace goes wild at that. 

His feet plant onto the bed to fuck himself up into you. “Tell me again.” His pace is brutal, shutting off everything in the world isn’t him. You can barely process his words, giving him a confused moan instead of whatever answer he’s looking for. You can only focus on the way his cock is rubbing your sensitive walls and sending ripples of pleasure through you, how it’s bumping your cervix with every thrust. “Tell me again, sweetheart. Tell me you- you love m-” His word descends to a groan when you moan his name, strangled, and desperate as your hips grind into him again. “I love you, I love you so much. I’m-” You gasp and grip his hair again, sobbing a moan onto his lips before burying yourself in his neck. 

“M’gonna cum an- and I want-” You whine shakily and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him as your pussy shudders around his cock. “I want you to cum inside me- Oh, I love you so much, Marc.” He can’t even hold back. He can’t even last five minutes after you’ve granted him permission. His hands are shaking against you and he's whining like you've never heard. 

“I’ve never- Baby, I haven’t-” You moan against his neck, delirious and desperate for him. His eyes roll back and shut. His mind is racing with thoughts of cumming inside you now, how warm it’ll feel, how you’ll twitch around him, maybe your pussy will milk him, maybe you’ll twitch as he paints your walls white with his cum. Maybe he’ll cum enough that he gets to watch it drip out of you. You lick a stripe up his ear, sending a jolt of arousal straight to his cock, nearly pushing him over the edge. “I haven’t done this either. I want you to.”

Your emphasis on ‘you’ is what pushes him over. It has his muscles tightening with his cock and his hips twitch up into you twice more before he’s groaning out unfinished curses. You cum at his reaction, babbling that you love him over and over, prolonging his orgasm in the process. He holds your head in the crook of his neck as he thrusts into you erratically, seeing white in his vision from how good you’re making him feel. His head has gone fuzzy and all he can hear is static, he feels like he’s ascended to another realm as his cock floods your pussy. 

You’re shocked at the warmth, at how quickly it spreads through you and warms your core, raising goosebumps all over your skin and shoving you over the edge. You shake all over as your pussy milks him, squeezing every last drop from his pulsing cock, wanting to be so full of him that you’re dripping for days, so full that you can feel his heavy cum sitting in your womb. 

He groans your name one more time, coming out broken and pathetic as his cock spits out one last rope of cum into you, his cock making an obscene squelch noise as he thrusts into you one last time. 

You’re panting on his chest, basking in the comfortable silence, the intimacy of the whole ordeal, when he lifts you off of him. You whine in protest, you were hoping he’d leave it in and let you keep him warm all night. You’re pouting at him as he shushes your whines, your heavy lids closed over your eyes until you realize he’s not putting you down. Your eyes open slowly to see his gaze barreled into your pussy, not even flickering to your face for a moment. 

You jerk in his hold when you feel it; his thick cum dripping from your over-stimulated hole. It’s almost ticklish as it slides out of you so slowly, causing a shiver to run up your spine and his cum finally drops onto the sheet. There's a thin line of off-white still streaming out of you and his hands are shaking over your hips again. His eyes are blown and desperate when they meet yours. Already ready for another round. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[shadowdaddies]

Hi, love your writing. Could you write something with either Lucien or Ruhn with a reader who is always told she talks to much? Like when she gets happy or excited she tends to ramble and people usually get annoyed at her and tell her to shut up and she slowly stops talking at all and Lucien or Ruhn see that and try to get her to come out of her shell again and always listen to what she has to say?

I needed to write this today, I really relate and I'm having a hard time. If you ever want someone to talk to, my messages are open💜 and omg do you know how hard it was to choose between Lucien and Ruhn?😩 ugh anon your ideas are too good! I went with Lucien only because I haven't written for him yet and I think he's perfect for this but if you have a Ruhn request I'm HERE💜

Use Your Words

Lucien x Reader hurt/comfort

Warnings: this got very suggestive towards the end, I have learned I am very susceptible to the Vanserra rizz

You barely made it through the front door before a sob ripped through you, slinking to the ground as you sunk against the wall. Your throat was in knots, chest heavy as your thoughts eddied deeper and darker. 

Growing up, you had always been told you were too loud, too open, too much. Even now, it took courage for you to reach out to people, to not let your insecurities get in the way of connecting with others. Tonight you felt comfortable, thinking that the females in court accepted you, but the moment that you opened up - shared too much - they gave you the same judgmental looks that had become ingrained in your mind.

It was easier to retreat into yourself, better to not say anything than to bear the rejection that inevitably followed you through your life. When Lucien arrived home, he found you crumpled into the sofa, adorned in your softest robe as you stared blankly at the fire.

“My love, you look ethereal glowing against the light of the fire,” Lucien murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. He lifted your head, settling underneath you as a makeshift pillow while he stroked your hair. “How was your evening, beautiful?”

You couldn’t help how your face crumpled at his question, lip quivering as the tears leaked from your eyes. You buried your head in his lap, shaking your head as you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. 

“Hey, I’ve got you, love,” Lucien whispered, lifting you up into his lap, cradling his in his strong arms. A long time passed as he held you, letting the emotions pour out of you, paying no mind to the tears that stained his shirt. 

When you were ready, you lifted your head to rest against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat calming. “I’m not good with words like you, Lucien. I wish people found me charming and interesting, but it’s like I say too much and they lose interest. I don’t know how to do anything right, Luc. No matter how hard I try, it’s not enough, and it’s too much,” you cried into his shoulder. 

Looping your arms around his neck, you held him close as though he might disappear if you let go. “I’m sorry, that was a lot. I didn’t mean to say too much, I just keep talking,” you rambled, unable to stop but desperate to share your feelings. 

Lucien held you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your hair before broad hands found your cheeks. “My love, you are not too much. I could never have enough of you. Your words are like the flowers that fill the meadow outside. They are many, and together they create something so breathtaking, I don’t know how I ever lived without you.”

His lips lowered to your neck, long red hair sliding against the skin of your chest. Fingers threading through his soft hair, you tilted your head back, welcoming the affections he was bestowing upon you. 

Pressing a kiss below your ear, Lucien’s warm breath tickled your skin as he spoke. “I want to know everything that goes through this beautiful mind,” he murmured, teeth grazing your neck as he continued peppering kisses to any exposed skin he could find.

You whimpered, rolling your hips against his in a silent request for more. Lucien pulled back, a feline smirk on his lips as his eyes glowed in the firelight. With a tsk, he tilted your chin towards him. “I want to hear everything that you want tonight. I want you to use your words, to hear every beautiful noise that comes from your mouth as I show you how incredible you are. Understood?” He punctuated his question by tugging your bottom lip with his teeth, and you nodded furiously. 

“Yes, Lucien. Please touch me,” you breathed.

“Good girl,” he grinned, tossing you over his shoulder as he carried you to your bedroom.

banners by saradika

[orienteddreamerrr]

Imagine: Shadow saving you from a suicide attempt…

(Shadow the Hedgehog X Fem reader!)

(SHORT! A DRABBLE!)

Rating: PG-13 for…Angst, attempted suicide but very fluffy towards the end!

(Don’t read if you have/had trauma like this before!)

(Not sure why I wanted to create this…for awareness??? I guess???)

Normally you would be at home, wanting to rest of course and maybe have some time with Shadow. But no. You were stuck here in your corner office, busying yourself with mundane work of filing papers. It was getting tiresome as you were hoping for Shadow to come rescue you. But no. He was busy, forced to be fighting alongside with G.U.N soldiers somewhere. You sigh to yourself as you see the clock, the hand almost hitting 9. You were tired. But that could also be your depression. Your boss comes out of nowhere and notices your mood. “Hey…what’s wrong?”, You look to your boss as you shake your head. “I’m needing to go home…”, Your boss nods in understanding. “We’ll have Karl take it from here…go home and rest…you look like you need it…”, You could only nod in response as you watch your boss walk back to his office.

Your mind was screaming for rest. You log off on everything as you start getting ready to leave. But as you left the office building, you can’t help but feel your depression worsening, with all these kinds of thought rushing in your mind: “Am I enough? Am I enough for Shadow? Does he even CARE about me? Does he still want me?”. These thoughts had grown louder, making their presence known. You continue walking down this sidewalk you were on, seeing all the cars zooming back and forth on the street beside you. You can’t help also but have this sense that nobody wants you around…not even Shadow. This voice in your head was screaming for you to jump off a platform somewhere as you make your way to this abandoned building that was across the street. You make your way to the top, seeing there was nobody around. You step on the edge of the roof, seeing it was good distance down to the ground of concrete that lays just below you.

You could feel your heart racing as you sigh a shaky breath, still hearing those thoughts rushing in your mind. Out of nowhere, you hear a sound behind you as if someone had teleported. You crane your head over to see it was Shadow himself. Shadow had a feeling he knew what was going on as he stands there, his arms folded as he stares at you. “What are you doing?”, He asks you, his brows furrowing a little. You can’t help but feel your tears forming as you turn around to fully face him. “I need to know…do you still care?”, Shadow of course doesn’t answer as he continues staring. Shadow does care, he just doesn’t show it. You take notice of his silence as your feet shuffle closer to the edge. Shadow sees this as he too steps closer to you. He extends his hand for you to take.

“Take my hand…”, He tells you, but all you could do was stare at it. That voice was nagging you to jump. It was growing louder as you shuffled even more to edge, before losing your footing and falling off the roof. Shadow, with his quick reflexes, uses his teleportation power to teleport from the roof to you, quickly teleporting you safely to the ground. During the time, memories of Maria flash through his mind. He didn’t want you to end up like her…dead. And his instincts had kicked in. Shadow kneels in front of you, making sure you weren’t injured. He wipes some of your tears that were streaming down your cheeks. “Don’t ever do that again…”, He whispers to you, his voice stern but gentle, hoping you would understand his words. You could only nod as he nods back to you. He picks you up bridal-style, your weight being nothing to him as he teleports you to your apartment.

He sets you down on the couch, making sure you were comfortable and not shaken up still. He usually doesn’t display affection towards you, especially around people, but he gives you a very light kiss on the forehead, his gloved hand running through your hair before disappearing. You could feel the exhaustion start to slowly creep onto you as your eyes droop close. When morning came, you stir up to find Shadow standing by, seeing he had watched you sleep for some time. You sit up as you smile at him, in which he returns it faintly. “Do you feel alright?”, he asks you, walking over to you. You sit up fully as you nod to him. “Yeah…”, Shadow nods back, taking your hand in his. “I promise I’ll be there for you more…I may not be around, but I’m still here…if you’re needing anything, just ask…”, You smile more at Shadow’s words as you kneel in front of him to embrace him. He was stiff for a moment, but he was able to hug you back.

After you released him, you could see his faint smile grow wider. He places a light kiss to your forehead again, his gloved hand resting on your cheek as he nods to you, acknowledging that you have fully recovered. He gives you one last look, letting you know that he’s off to do other things before teleporting away. You can’t help but feel satisfied as you make your way to your room to gather your thoughts, refreshing yourself before proceeding to go out, hoping to get your mind straighter, willing to see another day, willing to be with Shadow until the end of time!

The End! ❤️

Hope you liked it! I tried!

Leave a like if you did!

[turbulentscrawl]

Naib and Eli resting their head on gender neutral s/o’s boobs sfw, how do they go about to getting into the position, what’s their reaction if their s/o calls them out lovingly ofc!! please :3!!

Heck yeah!! I wasn't entirely sure if you wanted HCs or a little scene so here's a bit of both.

Naib Subedar

-Mr. “I do what I want” right here just sees an opening and goes for it. As long as you’re in private, of course.

-If you seriously want him to get off he will, but he can tell when you’re just messing with him and plays along with it a bit.

-He can take some teasing, especially if it means he gets to stay like this longer.

---

You blinked and he was there, full weight settling carefully against yours. When you lifted your book to peer down at the shirtless mercenary who’d joined you in bed, skin still hot and steaming from his shower. He deigned not to return eye contact and instead nuzzled his jaw into your sternum. Both of his hands wormed their way between the bed and the small of your back and squeezed. His legs clenched and stretched like a cat, and then he fell still.

“Whatcha doing?” you asked.

“‘M tired,” Naib said in response, muffled slightly against your chest. His hair was down, dripping, dampening your shirt.

“I’m sure, it sounded like your match was a busy one for my favorite rescue specialist.” He groaned in confirmation. “But you know there’s a perfectly good pillow right next to me?” You felt more than saw his lips pull into a smirk.

“I like these better,” he said. “Warmer, softer, and they come with a heartbeat.” To punctuate his point, Naib laid his ear right over your heart and settled back in. “Rub my back for me.”

“You’re being awfully demanding,” you replied. “What if I don’t like you laying on me like this, hmm?”

Naib groaned louder and made a show of peeling himself away from you. He got as far as elbow-height from your body before you tossed your book away, forcibly hugged his face back into your chest, and locked your legs around his waist. With a short laugh, he collapsed back on top of you. One of his hands ran the length of your side appreciatively while he settled back in, cheeks now well and truly smushed by your bosom.

“You’re the best,” he muttered when your hands began rubbing circles into his shoulders, and after several minutes drifted away to sleep.

Eli Clark

-A little more shy about it. He asks first, but he’s just a tiny bit awkward about it.

-Also handles teasing well, as he knows when you’re being serious or not, even if you’re really subtle.

-So very sweet about it. He just wants to be held. ;;

---

Eli finally stepped into your room after checking on everyone post-match. It always took him forever to make his rounds, but it was hard to be upset when his absence was for such kind reasons. Brooke Rose took a perch onyour coat rack, and Eli made himself comfortable, sluggishly removing both his cloak and eyemask. You were already watching him when he turned to face you, bright blue eyes locking onto your form. A sweet, but tired smile slipped onto his lips.

After several long moments holding one another’s stares like that, and his cheeks steadily growing pink, you ventured to ask, “Is everything alright?”

“Ah,” Eli finally said. “I was just wondering…if I could join you?”

“Of course you can,” you chuckled. Always cautious, this one, even after losing count of all the times you’ve given permission. You patted the mattress next to you, and Eli seemed pleased with the offer, but stopped again with just one knee on the bed, vaguely hovering over your reclined form.

“Actually, I was wondering if I might…lay on you?” he asked.

“Feeling a little extra clingy tonight, are we?” you asked back. His head dipped away in embarrassment, but he didn’t retreat from you. He chuckled good-naturedly.

“Can I?” he asked again.

“Can you?” Your voice dropped low, teasing and suggestive.

“You’re cheeky,” he said back, “I think I can.” Carefully, he slid himself up against your side. His legs tangled with yours, torso half-topping, half-spooning you. He was trying to be mindful of his weight, but when he finally settled and seemed happy with the position, he was coiled around you like ivy. And his head cradled right against your boobs.

“I see what this is,” you taunted, unable to resist one more. “You just wanted easy access to the stress balls.” Eli barked a loud laugh in response. He turned his head up as if to say something but cut himself off when your fingers slipped into his hair and began combing through it. The treatment relaxed him, and you two fell gently into intimate silence.

[melancholymetropolis]

PillowTalk

plot: A normal breakfast takes a steamy turn.

pairings: Aizawa Shota x Pregnant!Reader

genre(s): Marriage of Convenience AU; Shameless Smut

warnings: MUTUAL PINING. former boss/assistant. mansion in the middle of the woods. stay-at-home wife (kinda). CEO husband. ROLEPLAY. reader is a book nerd. chasing. lowkey beauty & the beast au. toxic ex. library sex. PIV SEX. rough. table top. mentions of voyeurism + masturbation. pet names (princess, little wife, beast, prince charming etc) light breeding. teasing. Aizawa is a simp for his wife. y/n is a dirty -talker. BOTH OF THEM ARE REALLY HORNY FOR EACH OTHER

w.c: 4.4k

Aizawa Shota lowered the newspaper from his view and lifted the coffee cup to his lips. He took a hefty gulp of the cool drink and I felt myself squirm in my seat. 

My kinda-husband was simply too hot for words and I was beginning to lose my mind. His dark hair was pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head, but a few (selective) strands framed his face. He decided to grow out his facial hair a bit, sporting a deviously dark five o’clock shadow. The white dress shirt framing his chest was seconds away from breaking at any sudden movements. The black suit he wore was tailored to his body perfectly— framing his butt and thighs gorgeously. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones or the lack of pleasure I had acquired in recent months— I wanted him. I wanted him badly. 

I wanted my fake husband to toss me to the table and devour me, just like how he did our breakfast.

I wanted him to mount me like the sexual beast I knew he was and pound me into the table.

I wanted him to ruin other—

“How are things?” He asked, snapping me out of my reverie. 

“Uh. . . what things?” I asked absentmindedly. 

His black eyes flicked onto my face, taking in my flushed expression. “Are you hot? Do you want me to turn down the thermostat?”

Oh, I am hot. Hot and ready for you to slurp me like—

“N-No,” I stammered, bringing my iced tea to my lips. I took a slow sip before setting the glass back on the table. “And everything is fine! The doctor said my blood pressure and cortisol levels were not as high as before and were leaning toward normal. She also told me to start drinking okra water and to work on my breathing, since I reaching the end of my trimester.”

Aizawa nodded. “Seems to be all good news. I am happy to hear it.”

“Well, there is only good news because of you and your support,” I said sheepishly. 

The statement was very true, if it weren’t for Aizawa I probably would’ve been dead by now. That was not an exaggeration whatsoever.

We didn't marry for love, nor was this union arranged. It was a simple matter of convenience. I was his secretary and he was the CEO of the company. I was already engaged to another man prior, but he left me mere weeks after I had fallen pregnant. My fiance cleared our joint account and fled the country. Leaving me with nothing. I was forced to consider going back to the united states and sleeping in my childhood bedroom with a newborn.

Aizawa, out of the blue, presented the possibility of a marriage between us. He would pay for everything. The medical bills, food, car payments, baby supplies— all I had to do was manage the house staff: sign off on repairs, oversee their daily tasks, and inform him of anything out of the ordinary. He was basically paying me to be a housewife, without the strenuous duties of cooking, cleaning, and tending to the kids. Plus, Aizawa suggested I get a night nanny so I could rest a little better.

The deal sounded a little too good to be true. But, given the two years we spent working together, I knew he was trustworthy. I took the leap and ended up living an absolute fairytale life for the past 5 months. I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Although, deep down, I wished we explored a little past our new normal.

Maybe even find ourselves entangled in the sheets and trying out all kinds of positions.

I’m pretty sure I can still get my leg over my head if I really tried. Giving him enough room to dig deep in me and rearrange my guts.

"You don't have to thank me every chance you get," a small smile stole his face. "In fact, I should be thanking you."

"Oh really?" 

The smile widened and the brunette adjusted his position in the chair. His arms crossed against his broad chest and the buttons strained from the action. The muscles in his forearms flexed underneath his rolled-up sleeves. His biceps bulged a little against the cotton fabric. The longer I looked at him the wetter I felt the seat of my panties become. If he kept being so absentmindedly attractive, I would soon find myself sprayed out on my bed, fingers probing my slick walls, wishing he were on top of me.

Damn, I have it bad.

“Y/N!” Aizawa said in a raised voice. 

I blinked several times and cleared my throat. “Y-Yes?”

“Are you sure you okay?” He asked, leaning forward. 

“Yeah! It’s just the. . . hormones!” I blustered. “You know, all those raging, sweaty hormones that make it hard for me to focus.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are sure it's only the hormones? And not some other factor?”

“Uh. . .” I stammered. 

Aizawa, suddenly, rose from his seat and walked around the round table. His eyes never left my face and a smirk was forming on his lips. He appeared next to me in an instant. He pressed one hand on the table and another on the back of my chair. Aizawa leaned forward until our faces were mere inches apart. 

“I heard you the other night,” he stated, a certain hunger in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” I gulped.

“You cried out for me,” he said, plainly. “Begging me to. . . how did you say it? Oh! ‘Split you apart with my thick dick’.”

The realization hit me like a sledgehammer. It had been the night he had come back from a run around the block. He was shirtless and the shorts were low on his hips. His sculpted v-line was on full display, along with his sensual muscles. He was breathing so heavily, panting and mewling from the strenuous exercise. He claimed to have “overdid” it this time. He ran at full speed for the last few blocks and all the way up our long driveway. His long hair was, again, pulled into a messy bun, highlighting his sharp jaw and rugged features. 

He looked so hot. So fuckable. I wanted to mount him like the stallion he was and ride him into the sunset. 

". . . Oh," I murmured, turning away from him.

"'Oh' is right," he chuckled. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but you were so loud and luscious that I couldn't help myself." Aizawa leaned forward, his lips brushing against my earlobe. "And saw you too. Your door was cracked open just for me to see."

Shivers ran down my spine and my womanhood throbbed. His hot breath was caressing my ear, whilst his mouth did the same. His body was so close, yet he wasn't laying a finger on me. The temptation was swiftly sending me over the edge. I hated the slow, seductive game he was playing. I knew the ending would not be in my favor. He wasn't the type of man to spread me open like a Thanksgiving feast, nor was he the type to treat me like an animal. He wanted me begging, weeping for his touch. Despite the rather x-rated thoughts running through my mind at the moment, I couldn’t allow myself to succumb to his game so easily. 

“Who knew you were such a little perv,” I giggled, lifting my mug to my lips. I took a small sip of the hot tea and hummed sweetly. “But, I guess, if I was holed up in my office for 40+ hours a week I’d be a little… frustrated as well.”

His fingertips brushed against my arms, tickling me the same way a feather would. “You are playing with fire, little wife.” Aizawa groaned and gripped the back of my chair. “Ever since that faithful night, I have not been able to think straight. Seeing your legs shake and your toes curl, while you work yourself with that sparkly pink toy—” He sucked in a breath and released the back of my chair. He pushed his body away from mine. 

Immediately, I rise to my feet and turn to face him. The brunette placed a significant distance between the both of us. His breath was labored and his hand was balled at his side. There was an oblong shape intensely prominent near the zipper of his slacks. The member was only semi-hard and I could already tell that was quite massive. Probably bigger that the sparkly pink dildo I had in my nightstand, certainly thicker that the toy as well. 

My assumption was right. 

He did have a long, thick dick.

“I like to think myself a patient man,” he started. “A respectable man. I tried my best to keep my distance from you and to give you all the space you need to grow. To heal from whatever happened before our union. I never wanted to force myself or my desires onto you. I never wanted you to think you owed me anything because we were simply married and living together." Aizawa’s brown eyes bore into mine, just as the morning light gracefully captured his face. It gave him an ethereal glow. Made him look even more beautiful that he already was. “I promised myself that I would not touch you or make any advances toward you until I have obtained your explicit consent. However, being near you, feeling your luxurious presence and capturing your delicious scent, while trying not to press my mouth against that gummy pussy is pure agony. ”

Aizawa was so eloquent with how he spoke, sounding like a pure gentleman. Up until that last bit. 

“So, from what you’re saying,” I said, tilting my head to the side a little bit. “The beloved prince charming I married 5 months ago is gone? And he was preplaced by a horny, insatiable beast?”

A smirk pulled at his lips. “That’s not exactly true, princess. Charming was always a beast, at least during the night. It took a very special lady to set him straight by morning.”

I hummed once more and pulled my braids into a messy bun. I hiked up my dress and gave him a smile. “Where is the closest soundproof room in the house?”

“A few doors down,” he replied. “It’s the library.”

I took off in a swift jog toward the room, turning my head back to say “You can’t catch me, you fearsome beast.”

His laughter was explosive. “Are we roleplaying, princess?” Aizawa shouted after me.

I was already halfway down the hall, the double doors of the library were swiftly approaching. “Only if you want to,” I shouted back. 

“You cannot hide from me, young damsel!” He boasted, as heavily footsteps came stomping my way. “I will capture you one way or another!”

I giggled at the sound of his “beastly” voice and proceeded to quicken my pace. “Please do not harm me, furocious beast. For I am innocent in this matter.”

I have no idea what possessed me to put on this whole act.  Maybe I was watching too much Bridgerton or reading entirely too much erotica, but the idea of being chased by a massive man, just to be savagely fucked in the library was exhilarating. The book nerd in me was jumping with joy.

I pushed through the library doors and sped over to the nearest flat surface. A wide table with several wooden chairs surrounding it. I shoved the chairs aside and hopped right on the table. Anticipation ran through my veins. The big, hulking man burst through the room with a loud grunt. The smile on his face was undeniable. My little charade had done its job perfectly: it had taken us out of earshot of the bustling maids in the house and eased the thick tension between us. Aizawa’s playful mood was igniting something within me. Something I didn’t recognize. It had been a while since I had seen him actually enjoy himself. His smile was so wide and genuine that I thought he was a different person.

Not the stressed-out, sleep-deprived spouse that I often avoided.

But the bubbly, fun husband that I always wanted.

His immediate acceptance and active participation in my game showed me that there was a chance. A chance for us to have a real, authentic marriage. A union where we love and cherish each other.  One where I didn't have to question whether or not he felt the same way.

“Sweet, delicate princess,” Aizawa groaned, inching close to me. “Please allow me the opportunity to voice my desires without prejudice or ridicule.”

I looked away from his face for a moment and tapped my chin. “Fine, you may.”

“I want you. In every way possible,” he confessed, closing the distance between us. “I have wanted you from the sheer moment you opened your heart to me. From the moment you started staying up a little late to have dinner with me, or when you made it a point to pack me lunch on a particularly long day. When you made Sunday nights my favorite time of the week and got me addicted to Outlander.”

“Since when were you into Outlander?” I asked in disbelief,

“Since you started screaming at the TV, cursing out Sir Jack Randal,” Aizawa chuckled. “I never heard you use so many curses in a single sentence.”

“I still can’t believe he did that to Jamie,” I grimaced.

Aizawa nodded in agreement but carried on with his statement. “You have been the object of my desires and the capturer of my heart for months now. I go to sleep dreaming of your big brown eyes and beautiful smile. I hear your sweet voice in my mind all day long and wish I could spend every moment with you.”

I reached out to grab his hands, which he gladly handed to me. I brought them to my thighs and allowed them to hike up my skirt. The beige fabric lifted from its place at my ankles and exposed the bronze skin underneath. Aizawa settled at the small space between my thighs and gently placed his hands at my sides. His brown eyes bore into mine. The older man looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. Like nothing else mattered but us at this exact moment. His gaze was so pure I could almost cry on the spot. 

I hooked my arms around his neck and started to lean closer to him. My eyes fluttered closed and my lips slightly parted. He captured my mouth moments later and his arms swiftly wrapped around my plum form. Aizawa moaned against my lips as if marveling at the sensation. His mouth danced across mine gracefully, following my lead and patiently waiting for the next step. 

My hands were in his hair and my thighs rested against his hips. I gently rolled my damn center over his semi-hard front. The lust was quickly growing the long he kissed me and soon I  wouldn't be able to contain it. The confession had provided me with all the information I needed— our feelings were mutual. He wanted to give this fake marriage some authenticity and turn it into a real one. I was beyond excited.

I tore my lips away from his searing embrace and whimpered as he dragged a tongue along the side of my neck. 

"Take me," I gasped, clawing at his back. "Right here. Right now."

The brunette lifted his head from my neck and immediately started fumbling with the buttons on my blouse. Seconds later, he exposed the lacy number underneath and growled at the sight. His skilled fingers undid the finicky clasp in the back, exposing the plump mounds to his eager eyes. 

"Your breasts are so full and round," Aizawa groaned.

His thumbs gently ran across the pebbled nipples and a hiss left my lips. 

The older male immediately paused his actions. "Did I hurt you,  princess?" 

A blush flickered on my cheeks as I sheepishly looked away. "No. . . They're just really sensitive."

"Well, I'll try to be more careful with them," he stated, lowering his body until his face was directly staring at the bosoms. 

His hot tongue tenderly flicked the right nipple several times before giving it a long seductive lick. Shivers ran down my spine as he kept giving sloppy kisses to the sensitive bud. The seat of my panties was drenched. My arousal practically glued them to my lower lips. My legs were vibrating with anticipation. The hot mouth moved over to the left nipple and I thought I ascended to heaven. Aizawa moaned as he sucked on the breast. He was enjoying the lewd act and it was intriguing to see. 

He released the bud and a long string of drool connected the two as he pulled away. He brought his lips to mine and gave me a mind-numbing kiss. His fingers dipped between my thighs as we made out. He pressed two fingers against the wet area and started to rub small circles right at the top of the slit. My poor clit was already throbbing from the foreplay and it seemed to pulse after that action. I moaned against his lips and pulled away. The area was so wet and sensitive that I knew it wouldn't take long to push me over the edge. Especially after he gave my nipples such delicate care. 

"What a cute face my little princess is making," he purred, pressing his forehead to mine. "Looks like she wants to cum."

I nodded, keeping direct eye contact with the seductive man. "I do, you beast. I want to cum all over your pretty cock and gorgeous face. Will you let me?"

The older man groaned and removed his hand from my panties. "Coming on my face is just gonna have to wait until our next rendezvous. I'm afraid if I don't slip into that dripping wet pussy I'm gonna burst. And we wouldn't want that, right?" 

"We sure wouldn't," I said absentmindedly rubbing my baby bump. 

Aizawa smirked before slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. He threw the cotton garment aside before fiddling with his belt. His eyes never left my face and that seemed to make his actions even hotter. He pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift motion; leaving the thick, long member to spring free. 

My eyes widened at the sight. He was certainly bigger than I imagined. Definitely bigger than my ex, who could barely last 5 minutes without busting. Aizawa was indeed a patient man, a kind man. That was the only reason I could gather for why God would bless him with such a beast. Maybe I too was God's favorite, since he allowed me to marry such a good man. 

Not only was he fine as hell, tall and rich— his dick was big. I had no doubt I had hit the lottery in the husband department. 

"Are you okay, princess?" He asked. "Would you like to take a breather?"

"I breathed enough," I shot back. "Come take these panties off and pound me with your long, thick dick." 

Aizawa chuckled and hooked his thumbs under my waistband. He pulled the cotton panties down my plump legs and tossed them to the side. He aligned the head of his cock with my womanhood and just before easing himself in, Aizawa paused and gave me a final look, as if to ask me ‘are you sure?” I nodded immediately and widened my thighs a little bit more. The thick member sunk right into me with little resistance, on account of how wet my womanhood was. Pregnancy amplified all my bodily functions to the hundredth degree, including how soiled my underwear became anytime I saw something that appealed to me. Or, anytime I saw my husband.

The brunette helped me lay flat on my back against the table and adjusted the position of my legs. He hooked my limbs over his forearms and continued to push into me. I gasped when every inch was nestled into my greedy pussy and my eyes fluttered closed. I placed one hand above my head, gripping the edge of the table and the other underneath my belly. I braced myself for impact. Aizawa started off slow, rolling his hips against my pelvis gently. I could feel every inch inside of me. The slow thrusts softly pushed against my sensitive spots, causing me to squirm and wiggle underneath him. 

"Can I move a little faster, princess?" He grunted, tilting his hips a little bit. 

"Please move faster, beast," I panted, digging my nails into the table. "I cannot take this teasing any longer." 

Aizawa took a firm hold of the table and chuckled quietly. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

 The older man’s hips gradually began moving faster against mine. At first, my little mewls remained relatively uninterrupted by the change. I pretended to be disinterested in the movements, rolling my eyes and telling him to move faster. To fuck me harder. Informing him that I was displeased by his treatment, Aizawa’s persistent behavior of treating me like a delicate flower was starting to frustrate me. I was a woman above anything else. This pregnancy had almost everyone in my everyday life view me as fragile. Something that could easily be broken with little force and it struck anger in my being. Since my body is sturdy enough to grow an entire human being, I was pretty sure it was strong enough to handle some power thrusts from a man.

“Come on, beast,” I teased, a smile kissing my teeth. “Don’t tell me this is all could do? Some half-hearted pumps and expected me to be satisfied? I thought you were more of a savage than this.”

Without a word, Aizawa started to snap his hips against mine harshly. A good portion of his force was colliding with my body and it made my heart sing. My breath was caught in my throat and my legs started to tremble. I rested my body on my elbows and looked into his dark eyes. He was already looking at my face. The smile on his lips was stirring something within me. Almost like he knew I wouldn’t last long or I couldn’t handle the power of his thrusts. There were two words lingering on his tongue that I was dying to hear him say. Something that would definitely send me over the edge.

The man towering over me tilted his hips once more and a squeal shot out of my mouth. My back fell right back onto the table and I raised both arms above my head to grip the edge. The plush head of the cock was hammering the underside of my cervix, a very sensitive area deep within my cunt. My body started to tremble in response and my breathing became hollow. Pressure started to build in my abdomen and a pool started to form. My walls started to pulse against his massive cock and I couldn’t string together a single thought. My body started to tingle and my mind started to blur. Drool spilled from my lips as my eyes started to roll back. 

The orgasm was slow, deep, and damning. My body twisted and contoured into various weird positions as I rode the hot wave. I said my husband’s name like a prayer, chanting it over and over again. I begged him not to stop, to keep going, to take me to heaven. And he did just that. Aizawa kept his hard, sharp pace. He continued to drill that girthy dick into my snatch like he became addicted to the feeling. My body completely succumbed to the pleasure, not wanting to do anything else but relish in it. It wasn’t long before another orgasm began to build and my legs started to tremble all over again. 

“Fuck!” I cried, arching my back against the table. 

“Come on, princess,” Aizawa cooed. “Give beasty another one. I know you have it in you.”

The older man’s hips started to sputter and twitch, indicating to me that he was next to reach his peak. But, like the respectable man he was, Aizawa continued his sickening pace. Eventually, my eyes gradually opened and I took in the scene before me. A hulking man with rippling muscles and a gorgeous face was looming over me. Drilling his cock in me at a record pace with a smile on his face. He held my legs nice and wide in a seductive ‘v’. He was watching my every expression, movement and taking in my sounds. Aizawa was fully invested in pleasuring my horny, pregnant self and I was grateful. I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted to feel the weight on his body forever. I never wanted to part from him. I needed to be with him as long as humanly possible.

The second orgasm was harder than the last. It tore through me like lightning and forced my toes to curl. My eyes were wide open for this one. I watched Aizawa lean forward and gather me desperately. He held me close and proceeded to rut into my creamy pussy. He pressed his hot mouth to mine while his hips trembled and spasmed. His head fell on my shoulder when the pleasure became too great and he couldn’t hold out any longer. Hot cum shot into my awaiting womb, gradually filling me to the brim. Aizawa’s slow and rhythmic thrusts made the feeling even more sensual. It was as if he was fucking the semen into me, hoping to make me pregnant all over again. 

I never thought I’d have a breeding kink, but his actions convinced me otherwise.

Soon, it was nothing but our labored breathing filling the library. Our bodies were still one and his chest was still pressed against mine. My fingers were slowly running through his hair while his arms were tightly wrapped around my back. It seemed like the older gentleman had no intention of letting me, even though we were both sweaty and panting. It made me feel special.

“Is this okay?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Me holding you like this?”

“It’s fine,” I replied with a sigh. 

“Okay. Just let me know if I am crushing you or the baby.” 

“Alright, Aizawa,” I giggled.

Suddenly, he lifted his head from my shoulder and pressed his forehead against mine. 

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me, princess,” he acknowledged. “I am your husband, not some stranger on the street.”

“Than what am I supposed to call you then?”

He thought for a moment. “I think Shota would be fitting.”

“Shota?”

“And Beast/Charming on special occasions,” he said with a wink.

----------

a/n: there are hints in the story letting you know what kind of fic I'll be posting next. let's see who can guess it before sunday.

Also, a little update, I will be posting FULL SMUT SCENES from this point forward. So get ready for 2k - 4k worth of filth. Good luck going to sleep at night.

Finally, let me know if you would like to be added to my official taglist. I will be alerting you everytime I upload!

bye for now!

[writercole]

A Real Rancher

Summary: A night of relaxing leads to the promise of more. Words: 1366 Warnings: Fluff Credits: None, really. Unbeta'd. A/N: I have no idea where this came from. But it flew out of me last night and I have no regrets. A/N 2: For Becca Bear.

The birth of the last calf brought the total up to fifteen, just this fortnight. The life of a rancher, his life, made Rhett happy. Little moments like the first steps of the tiniest animals that would grow into thousand pound beasts made him smile. But he could admit that the ranch life wasn’t for everyone.

Like the girl who just ghosted him.

Or the one before who said that she couldn’t handle the hours he worked.

Or even the one before that who didn’t like that he smelled like manure when he came in from work.

Women were ridiculous. It’s not like they had to do the work. It’s not like he didn’t shower after he came in. But they used it as an excuse to leave rather than giving him half a chance.

Rhett made sure the heifer and the calf were healthy and cared for before heading back up to the ranch house, looking at the setting sun and deciding he needed a drink. But first, a shower. Maybe two.

As he walked into the dingy dive bar, he immediately noticed a woman at the end of the bar, her glasses low on her nose, a pencil in one hand and what looked like a business document in the other, though that document was about five hundred pages, if he had to guess. He ordered his usual and headed to his usual table, sitting back in the corner and letting the stresses and tensions of the day melt away as he listened to the old juke box across the room and sipped his drink.

Two more rounds and he was feeling great, watching the people in the bar come alone and leave together, passing the time with a spin around the dance floor or giggles in the far corner. He noticed that the woman he’d noticed at first was still there, furiously scribbling notes on her...whatever. Strands of hair fell out of her messy bun and her lip tucked beneath her front teeth. Her brow furrowed and Rhett chuckled.

Her head snapped up and she looked around, eyes locking on Rhett, and jumped off of her stool. He shifted in his seat as he clocked her making a beeline straight to him, suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that he was staring at her. She stopped in front of him at the table and he could see that she wasn’t angry, she was curious.

“Are you a rancher?” She rushed out.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Like a real rancher, not one of those preppy boys whose daddy owns a lot of cattle but has people who do the work for them. You’re the one who does the work?”

“Uh, yes ma’am,” he replied, his own brow furrowing beneath his stetson. “I’m Rhett Abbott. My family’s own the ranch for generations now.”

“Oh, good,” she sighed as she pulled out a chair across from him, “can I ask you some questions? Oh, shoot, my pencil.” She patted her pockets and checked behind her ears, coming up empty handed.

“Um, ma’am? It’s in your hair?” Rhett said, pointing at her bun.

“Oh!” She exclaimed as she pulled it out of the space he pointed at.

“Can I ask what these questions are for?”

“Well, I’m writing a book and this one character is a rancher and I just don’t think I’ve gotten him right and – oh shit. How do I keep losing everything?”

“You left the...book? On the bar.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” she told him before rushing across the room and grabbing the papers she’d been making notes on.

Rhett was entirely entranced with this woman. He’d never met a writer before, not that Wabang had a great intellectual population to begin with.

She sat back at the table and flipped her notebook to a clean page, writing his name across the top before returning her gaze to him.

“It’s two t’s,” he pointed out.

“Huh?”

“Abbott. It’s two b’s, two t’s,” he explained, gesturing to his name written across her page.

“Oh, sorry.”

“S’okay,” he shrugged. “So these questions?”

“This guy works on a ranch and he’s got to do cow stuff and I don’t know the first thing about being on a ranch or cows or anything like that and I was hoping that you could maybe, possibly, tell me about the stuff you do for cows?” She spoke quickly, like she was expecting him to get bored with her voice in the time it took for her to ask her question.

“That’s a pretty broad question,” he laughed, “do you have anything more specific?”

“No,” she sighed. “Like I said, I don’t know the first thing about being on a ranch or anything. The closest I’ve come to a cow is the petting zoo.”

Rhett gestured for another round for the two of them and settled back against the wall. “Well, darlin, let’s get you learned.”

The pair of them spent the rest of the night talking, only realizing how long it had been when the lights came up and the bartender announced last call. Their topics had drifted from the work on the ranch to much more personal topics. He learned that she had quit her job and moved to Wabang to follow her dreams of writing a contemporary romance set in the west. When he questioned why she had to move out to the absolute sticks to do that, she looked down at the table.

“No one supported me. They thought I was wasting my time writing. It was never a worthy career path because who wants to read a book anymore,” she admitted quietly.

Rhett felt more emotion flow through him in that moment than he had since Amy had disappeared. He was pissed at people who told her it was a waste of time, sorry for her feeling like she had no one, hopeful that she would give him half a chance. “Well, if it makes any difference, I think you’re doing an amazing thing.”

“Really?” She asked, her face going from dejection to elation in an instant. Her shoulders squared and her eyes lit up, as if she was hearing someone tell her positive things for the first time.

“Yeah. It’s not easy to follow your dreams, especially when they lead you away from the people you care about,” he spoke from experience, “and to do something like writing a book...man, that takes guts and brains and all kinds of stuff I definitely don’t have.”

“But...you ride bulls?”

“That doesn’t take any brains, darlin. In fact, it takes a distinctive lack of brains and self preservation.”

“Um, no,” she countered. “That takes so much brains, Rhett.”

“Hey, you two, we’re closing,” the bartender called across the otherwise empty room.

“Can I drive you back to your room?” Rhett asked as he stood.

“It’s a short walk. I’m next door,” she shrugged sadly.

“Well, how about I leave you my number and you can call me with your questions. Maybe come by the ranch tomorrow and see how things go?”

“Can I pet the cows?!”

“I’ll make sure to keep them in the barn just for you,” he grinned. He wrote his number down on her book and offered his arm, escorting her to the small inn next door.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“I’ll make sure to answer.”

“Goodnight, Rhett. It was really nice to meet you,” she said with a wave, walking through the thick, wooden door into her temporary accommodations.

Rhett watched until the door clicked shut, walking backwards to his truck just in case she came back down. A light turned on in a room over his head as he opened the door and his glance shot up in time to see her pull back the curtain and peek outside, waving when she caught him staring. He waved back, watching until she dropped the curtain before he climbed into his truck.

The idea to sleep in the parking lot crossed his mind for half a second before he started the engine, turning his truck towards home. He had an early date with a writer. The cows had to be ready.