crypt1dcorv1dae · 6 months ago
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My hair looks cute rn
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justmeinadaze · 8 months ago
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Secret Underneath Part 2 (Steddie X Plus Size You)
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Warnings: Daddy Steddie (Businessman Steve/ Rockstar Eddie) & Plus Size Fem Sub Y/N, SMUT (just pure smut; me working on this may be why I'm so subby right now lol), light smacking, slight spit play( if you squint), spanking, LOTS of dirty talk.
SLIGHT ANGST, like very slight, mentions of insecurities when it comes to the reader and her now knowing who they are. Brief mentions of an ex (that I can use for angst fodder later because I'm me)
More than anything they are feeling each other out and setting up some boundaries.
Word Count: 4835
Part 1
“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your friend asks as she lightly touches your shoulder before becoming distracted herself. “Maggie! I swear to God you kids are going to get me to retire early.”
“Promise?”, one of the kids teases.
Blinking, you pull yourself back into the moment, remembering the anonymity everyone requested including you.
“Ok, guys, come on. I think we bothered the people up here enough. There’s a reason they make so much money and it’s because they don’t deal with kids like you.”, you joke as you usher them to follow the guide.
It takes all of your energy not to glance their way again but you can feel their eyes trail after you as you disappear with the class. 
After dropping off the kids on campus and making sure everyone gets home safe, you head back to your apartment. As soon as the door shuts you lean against the wood, sliding down to the floor as you cry. 
You enjoyed being with Mogul and Rockstar the other night but now you know who they were. Were they going to leave now that you did? They wanted their identities to be private but never said for how long. After what happened, you were willing to wait but now… now what happens?
You hadn’t even began to fully process that they were millionaire womanizer Steve Harrington and famous well known party bad boy rockstar Eddie Munson. Insecurities had already begun to seep into your brain and it killed you. 
Your phone vibrated causing you to roll your eyes and glance at the notification that danced across your screen. 
(5:15pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!
(5:16pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude declined your invitation for a video chat. 
(5:17pm) Accept the invitation.
(5:17pm) Please.
(5:18pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!
“Yes, Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson, how can I help you?”, you answer in a short, annoyed tone. 
“You can let us see your face for starters. If I wanted to look at the wall I can turn around.”
“Of your penthouse I bet.”
“We’re still in my office. We wanted to reach out earlier but we thought you’d still be on your field trip or at the school.”
“We wanted to give you time to get home so we could talk properly. Are you crying? Why are you crying?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Look, you don’t have to pander to me, ok? I know now this whole anonymity thing is ruined and you’d rather be with someone more suited to your lifestyle.”
“Define ‘our lifestyle’.”
“For you, Mr. Harrington, I imagine some blond girl with big tits who comes from money and can squeeze her itty-bitty body into the most expensive dress your money can buy. For bad boy Mr. Munson, I see you with more or less the same but she’s cool like Janis Joplin.”
“I do like Janis.”
“So…big tits, money, and blond. Is there a height requirement?”
Your hand covers your mouth as you breathily laugh at their joke.
“No, no height requirement but according to princess here there is a weight limit. I guess because rich men like us are super vain we only care about a woman’s appearance and not her personality.”
“Is that right, honey? Or is the curvy baby with attitude a bit self-conscious?”
“THIS is why we wanted anonymity. We aren’t what you read in the papers, sweetheart. I’d figure the other night would have gone in the category of proving that. If we only cared about what you claim we never would have come down to the hotel.”
After a long exhale, you tilt your phone to allow them to see your face. 
“I think you also forget, honey, we have seen you. Yeah, you were wearing that mask but we knew about your body, your hair, and your tits. We’ve had our hands on them, remember?”
“You just caught us off guard today because… now we regret making you wear that sleep mask thing. Your entire face is so fucking beautiful. I wonder if your real name is equally so.”
Leaning your head on your knees, you take in their demeanors on the other end of your screen. They did still seem to be in his office but they were both sitting on a couch within. Steve was still wearing his sleek suit and Eddie in a black shirt with jeans but their eyes were no longer reflecting surprise as they had earlier that day. Right now, they seemed to be displaying genuine concern. 
“My name is Y/N.”
Both men softly grinned making you do the same. 
“Beautiful… would, um, would you be willing to meet us in a couple of hours at that hotel? We’d like to talk to you some more. Maybe figure some things out when it comes to us three.”
“We’d invite you to our place but we feel like it might make you more comfortable for us to meet somewhere where there’s common ground…so speak.”
“You two live together?”
“Oh good. We can still keep some secrets!”, Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, no point for me to get my own place when I’m on tour a lot and Stevie here travels for work.”
“Ok.”, you nod as you rise to your feet. “I’ll, um, see you both in a couple of hours.”
##################
Nerves float through you belly as you stand outside the hotel door, exhaling as you prepare for what may be on the other side. To your surprise both men are already there, Steve pacing by the window as he scrolls through his phone while Eddie lays on his back on top of the bed. 
As soon as the door closes, they come to attention, pausing as their eyes rake over your body. When you were here last time you had thrown on clothes not caring how you were dressed after your ordeal and today you weren’t expecting to see your two admirers so you were in your jeans and school t-shirt with a messy bun and sneakers. 
This time you wanted to show off with your off-shoulder butterfly sleeve green blouse and black skirt that accentuated your curves. The black heels helped fuel any confidence you were lacking and your hair flowed down around you giving you that extra layer of armor as well as hiding that still prominent bruise you had lingering on your skin. 
“Jesus Christ.”, Eddie breathed before clearing his throat and glancing towards Steve. “You know, seeing her now, Harrington, she doesn’t hit that height requirement we talked about.”
His friend rolled his eyes as you giggled. 
“This is so surreal.”
“What is?”, Steve asked.
“I just…I just read about you the other day. About how you just made a big financial move that made you 400 million dollars. And you…I’ve been listening to your voice for so long. I have your songs on my phone.”
“Yeah? And is that bad?”
“Ah, no, Munson. It’s those insecurities again which by the way I find totally amusing for a girl filled with so much sass.”, the pretty boy grins. “If I may ask, what are the other Daddies like? Why aren’t you like this with them?”
You scoff as you saunter to a nearby chair, place your purse down, and sit crossing your legs. Both men try to control their eyes from scanning along your limbs but Steve in particular struggles to focus on your face as his gaze constantly shifts to your heels.
“A lot of men on there have no idea what they are doing and the men that I have met up with are either trust fund babies or CEOs. They aren’t famous or really worked hard for anything. Personally, I think that’s why they struggle being dominate. They don’t know how to fight or work hard. They barely even know what they want let alone how to take care of me.”
“Goddamn, sweetheart, you are sexy.”, Eddie sighs almost excitedly. “You have no reason to be insecure at all, Y/N. I mean we get it. Like I said, this is part of the reason we wanted the anonymity. We want you to like us for us not our names or status.”
“Is that what happened with your last Baby?”
They glance towards each other again before answering. 
“No.”
“No…”
“No.”, Steve says again with more conviction. “No, that’s not what happened.”
“That’s all I get?”
“You get what we give you.”
Your breathing stutters a bit at the metalhead’s words as your pussy clenches at his casual yet confident tone. 
“Y/N, honey, can you do me a favor and uncross your legs?”  You do as he asks going the extra mile of opening them so they have a good view at your silk black panties underneath. “You have no idea how bad I want to throw those gorgeous high heeled legs over my shoulders and just fucking devour your little pussy till your shaking.”
A small moan escapes your lips but when you try to rub your thighs together for relief Eddie tuts loudly across from you. 
“Ah ah, baby. Keep your legs open till we’re done talking and you!”, he chuckles as he gestures towards his friend. “Stay focused.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“When it comes to sex, princess, is there anything we should avoid? Any hard no’s or anything like that?”
“Nothing…too rough. I’m not into masochistic stuff like canes and flogs but you can hit me or spank me. You’ll probably be doing that a lot.”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby girl. We can handle the brat.”, Steve grins as he winks, taking off his suit jacket and tie, tossing them on the other chair beside him. 
“What about you two?”
That gives them pause before they smirk and the mogul continues rolling up his sleeves. 
“Would you believe you’re the first woman to ask us that?”, Eddie ask as he shakes his head. “No, pretty girl. As long as you’re vocal and tell us when or if you’re uncomfortable, we’re happy. That being said, do you have a safe word you prefer?”
“I’m alright with ‘red’, Daddy.”
Steve walks to your side and extends his hand out for you to take so he can guide you to the edge of the bed beside Eddie before descending to his knees. The long-haired boy brushes some of your hair back and his ringed fingers lightly trace your bruise.
“How does this feel? Still hurt?”
“Yes, sir, but not as much as before.”
“Fucking asshole putting his hands on our baby girl.”, he growled low as his lips kiss your skin. 
“That’s another thing, Y/N, because apparently we weren’t clear last time. You are ours. You belong to us and in turn we take care of you.”
“Are we still…still…keeping this a secret?”, you inquire trying to focus as Eddie’s kisses trailed to your neck while Steve’s mouth lingered on your thigh. 
“Is that alright? Till we get more comfortable with each other and the dynamic.”
“Y-Yes, Daddy. Please.”
“Please what, baby? What do you want?”, the rockstar breathes in your ear.
“I want Daddy to eat my pussy.”
You watch as Steve’s head disappears into your skirt making you groan when his nose presses against your panty covered core and you feel him inhale. 
“Fuck, she smells so fucking good.” His wide tongue flattens against the fabric and Eddie grins as your mouth falls open. “Jesus, Ed, and she tastes so sweet. Let’s get these off, honey.”
Nodding aggressively, you helped him pull down your panties and he tossed them towards his jacket. He licked a strip between your folds, wrapping his mouth around your clit, and repeating the process as his eyes watched your face. 
“Oh fuck, Daddy.”
Eddie’s hand cups your cheek as he brings your lips to his, open mouth kissing you as his own tongue caresses yours. Your body abruptly jostles as Steve bunches your skirt around your waist and throws your legs over his shoulders before pressing his face into your cunt as his tongue vigorously flicked your bundle of nerves.
Your fingers threaded through his hair as you fell back against the mattress and grinded your hips. His large palms glide up your stomach as the other man lifts off your shirt and throws it to the floor. You moan, gripping the mogul’s wrist as his digits pinch and roll your nipple between them. 
“Oh my God, yes, Daddy! I’m gonna cum!
Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave as Steve shakes his head from side to side helping you ride out your high. Refusing to slow down by any means, the man’s arms circle your hips, holding them down as he continues to run his tongue between you folds as he builds you back up. 
Feeling a warmth beside you, you shift your gaze to see a now naked Eddie on his knees stroking himself by your face.
“Do you want Daddy’s cock, pretty girl?” When you don’t respond, his palm lightly smacks your cheek, his eyes scanning yours for discomfort when they finally meet. “I asked you something.”
“M’sorry. Da-Daddy’s mouth feels sooooo good.”
“Maybe I should have him stop so you can pay attention.”
“NO! No, please. I’ll listen! I’ll listen. I’ll listen.” When he repeated his question, you nodded as your free hand started to reach for him. 
“No, baby. Just keep your hands on Steve. Fun fact, he kind of likes when you pull his hair while he’s making you feel good.”, Eddie grins as his palm pets your head. “Just keep your throat open for me, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
A guttural moan left the rockstars lips when his cock slid through your parted ones. His girth overwhelmed you instantly but you loved the way he tasted as every vein dragged along your tongue. 
“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it. God damn Steve, her mouth feels amazing.”
As the metalhead began subtly thrusting his hips, you did what he suggested, gripping the other man’s hair tightly in your fingers as you tried not to gag.
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie panted as he pulled himself back and you collected some air. “It’s ok to gag and drool, baby. We don’t mind it messy, trust me, and the thought of this pretty face choking on my cock just…fuck. Oh, wait. You’re going to cum again aren’t you?”, he says in an almost mocking tone that has your pussy clenching. 
Almost abruptly, Steve climbs up your body and snake one of his hands behind your neck, lifting you just enough for your forehead to lean against his. Pushing his ring and middle finger into your core, the sound of your slick filled the room as he thrust them into you at a brutal pace. 
“Cum again, baby. Come on. Soak Daddy’s fingers.”, he chanted under his breath as one of your arms wrapped around his neck. “I gotchu, Y/N. Daddy’s right here. Cum, baby girl. Keep your eyes open and on me.”
You screamed as the coil snapped, panting as your hair was yanked back.
“Keep your eyes open, little girl!”
His large digits continue to pump into you, slowing their rhythm as you gradually come down from your high with both men murmuring praises as they hovered above you. 
Through heavy lidded eyes you see them smirk at each other as Eddie pats his shoulder as if to say thank you before he maneuvers around on the bed, flipping you onto your stomach, and pushing you up on all fours. 
Steve lays on his back and hastily adjusts you till your in-between his legs. With a hungry gaze, you watch as he unbuckles his belt and pushes down his pants just enough to free his cock, stroking it in front of you as you wait. 
“Go head, Y/N.”, Eddie permits making you smile as you tongue darts out to lick the precum off his tip. “Atta girl. Remember, it’s ok to be messy.”
“Just tap me twice if you need a minute, honey.”
“Ok, Daddy. Oh-Oh fuck.”
While you two were talking, the rockstar had placed himself behind you, collecting your arousal with his length before guiding himself into your entrance. You whimper at his size as your nails claw under Steve’s button up shirt down his abs. 
“Fuck me, baby. I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying—shit—I’m trying to go slow but your pussy is just pulling me in…squeezing Daddy so tight.”
The man underneath you bit his lip as your face scrunched in pleasure. 
“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Such a good girl taking him so well.” Your hand wrapped around him as your mouth enveloped his cock, taking him as far down as you could. “Fuck, good-good girl.”
Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, Eddie waited, allowing you to get accustomed to him while you focused on his friend. Taking his recommendation, you lowered yourself as far down as you could, gagging around Steve’s massive size, and coming off him quickly leaving trail of spit that lingered on your chin. 
“There you go. God, Y/N, that felt amazing. Do you want Daddy to take control?”
“Please… I trust you.”
Almost too gently, he lifted your hair into a ponytail, caressing your lips with his thumb as they fell open while Eddie began thrusting into you. When his cock found its way into your mouth again, however, he was anything but.
His mushroom tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly as he guided your head lower and lower onto his lap.
“You’re doing so good, honey. Fuck! K-Keep your tongue flat. That’s it, baby. Just like that. Mmm get Daddy nice and wet. Yeah? Is Eddie fucking you nice and deep?”
Tears consistently fell at the euphoria you were feeling as Eddie’s cock hit all the right places inside of you and then some while Steve’s words and actions were making you clench the rockstar to an almost a painful degree. 
“Fuck, man!”, he blissfully shouted as he spanked your behind and slowed his pace as he watched his cock disappear inside you. “She fucking loves sucking your dick. Every time she gags, her cunt wraps tighter around me.”
The pretty boy grins as he pets your head and dries some of your tears. 
“You like sucking my cock, pretty girl?”
“Y-Yes, Daddy, I love it.
“Can Daddy fuck your tight your little throat till you both cum?”
“Yes, Daddy, please!”
Eddie stills long enough for his friend to rise to his knees and slide himself back into your mouth, matching his pace as they both thrust into you. Your orgasm takes you by surprise as you roughly tap on Steve’s body and he immediately pulls back as your upper body collapses on the mattress. The rockstar grunts as reaches over to grab your hair, bringing you flush against his chest as he chases his release. His arms circle around to your tummy and you place your own on top of his as he slams his seed inside of you. 
“Thank you.”, you whisper as you pant against his cheek and in response he tilts his head to kiss your lips. 
“Come here, baby girl.”, Steve coos, his head ticking to the side when you shake yours.
“I don’t want to ruin your suit, Daddy.”
Smiling softly, he takes you in his arms and you can’t help but inhale his scent as you nuzzle your face into his neck. After placing you on the pillows, he tugs his shirt over his head and removes the pants the rest of the way. 
“I don’t care about my clothes, honey. All that matters to me is that you’re comfortable and taken care of. Plus, it’s kind of sexy to me to have your gorgeous, naked, sweat covered body against my suit.”
Positioning himself between your legs, he brings one over his shoulder and lets out a long, pleasure filled sigh as he guides his cock into your somewhat overstimulated and dripping pussy. 
“God…fuck me.”
At this angle, it felt like he was splitting you in half but in the best possible way.
“Mmph, fuck, Daddy. You’re so big.”
“I know, Y/N. I know but you can take it. You’re doing so well already.” Steve’s lips kiss your ankle just below your high heel as he gradually began finding his rhythm. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”
When you didn’t do what he told you to, you felt him lean over you as he pressed his palms into the mattress to steady himself. 
“Y/N, stop making us repeat ourselves. Now, open your eyes.”
“I-I’m sorry, Daddy. You feel—mmm—so good. I can’t—”
“Yes you can, little girl. Don’t let our kindness fool you. We can be mean when we need to be and have no problem punishing bad girls.”
Your eyes open to meet his dominate ones and just as Eddie had he scans your face for any signs of discomfort. When he found none, he rested his forehead on your own.
“This is the first time we’re really getting to see them.” Steve rolls his waist and you mewl as he roughly hits that sensitive spot inside you. “Right there? Ok, baby.”
His jaw goes slack as he pounds into you, slamming into you g-spot over and over again turning you into a moaning mess that drives him crazy. Pushing back on to his knees, you watch as a glob of spit falls from his mouth before he utilizes his thumb to rub it into your clit.
“FUCK! I’m gonna cum!”
The bed shakes underneath you as skin smacking skin loudly echoes through the room. The coil in your belly snaps for the final time that night and Steve’s lips crash to yours to capture every moan he can. After a few moments, his head dips to your side and his groans fill your ear as he empties himself inside you. 
You wince as the man tries to carefully pull out, murmuring apologies as he kisses your face. 
“Here, sweetheart, drink this.”, Eddie instructs in a gentle tone as he hands you a glass of water that you promptly chug back. “I’m going to go figure out how to turn the rocket ship they a call a tub into a bath so we can get you all clean.”
You giggle at his joke as Steve over exaggeratedly sighs as he presses his face into the pillow beside yours. 
“He’s just trying to impress you by seeming more ‘down to earth’. Our bathrooms at home are more or less the same.”
“I’m sure they are better than mine. It’s a 30 sq ft cube and I shower with the door open so I don’t feel like I’m actually IN the movie Cube.”
His eyes scan you over as you laugh at your circumstance.
“I hope this doesn’t come off as rude so if it is please tell me but…you don’t make enough with the website to get a better apartment?”
“I don’t think it’s rude. Um, no. I don’t deal with too many Daddies. I mean I deal with them but not enough to actually get anything going or keep them around long term. Either they can’t handle me or I can’t tolerate them.”
“Girl who knows what she wants?”
“Girl who’s been through enough and is tired of wasting her time.”
He nods as Eddie saunters back into the bedroom to tell you the bath is ready but as he casually comes around to pick you up, you stop him. 
“It’s ok. You don’t need to…”
As you start to climb out of bed, he places his palm on your chest and pushes you back down.
“I don’t need to what?”
“You don’t need to try and lift me.”
“Good to know.”, he responds sarcastically as he effortlessly lifts you in his arms. “Thankfully I don’t need to try. I already know what I can and can’t do.”
After removing your skirt and heels and placing you in the water, the metalhead climbs in behind you and begins cleaning your body as Steve, now donning boxers, places himself on the edge.
“Am I allowed to ask questions?”
“Of course, sweetheart, but we decide whether or not to answer.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
“Did you have a particular question in mind, honey or…?”
“Just some general things.”, you shrug. “Like I know you make a lot of money but I don’t actually understand what you do.”
“Um, the short answer would be I’m an investor, I guess. My father owned and ran an advertising firm that I took over. Then I utilized those funds to buy and resell properties. That business move you mentioned? I bought a building in Las Vegas and spruced it up. Since it was right on the strip it sold for a high dollar value.”
“Did that go right over your head?”, Eddie asked in jest.
“A bit.”, you smile shyly. 
“Those kids you brought…what do you teach that would bring them to my office?”
“Oh, that wasn’t my class. I was helping my friend with her field trip because another teacher called in sick. She teaches economics; I teach English.”
Both men make a subtle ah noise as they chuckle. 
“Almost all of students know you.”, you smile as you shift your focus to the rockstar. “They say you need to post more on social media.”
“Yeah, I have no idea how any of that works. I just post what they tell me and Gareth runs our band one. I’m an old man, sweetheart.”
“Oh my god. No, you aren’t.”, you laugh as you keen into his chest. 
You don’t see it but both men exchange another look before Eddie wraps his arms over your own and holds you tightly against him as he kisses your shoulder. 
“I’m, um, assuming that doesn’t bother you…that we are older?”
“Most sugar daddies are, honey.”
“That’s not what I asked.”, Steve scolds as he reaches out to lightly grip your chin.
“No, it doesn’t bother me.” Nodding at your answer, he releases you to take hold of your hand and help you to your feet to step onto the bathmat allowing the metalhead to do the same so he can dry you. “Do it bother you?”
“No, baby girl, it doesn’t.”
“Now if any younger guys are out here hitting on you—“ Eddie smiles when your loud belly laugh cuts him off. 
“Trust me, no one is hitting on me. I’m not saying that in like an insecure way. I’m just, usually my sarcasm gets in the way.”
After leading you back into the bedroom, you’re surprised when Steve grabs his shirt and puts it on you, falling to his knees as he closes the buttons.
“This material feels nice.” A sexy smirk paints his face as you watch his fingers move. “Smells like you.”
As soon as he completes his task, his face presses into your stomach as his hands tenderly trail up one of your legs. 
“I smell cigarettes to. Almost like my best friend insists on smoking around me.”
“Oh, sure, because you don’t smoke with me sometimes.”, Eddie teases as you both smile. “I like that you smell like us both though. Let’s people know you belong to someone already.”
Taking a hold of your bicep, he guides you under the covers and you immediately spoon your body into his as he circles his arm around you again.
“Should I…remove my profile from the site?”, you ask sleepily as Steve lays in front of you and brushes some of your hair away from your face.
“We would appreciate that. Tomorrow we can give you our number so we can talk directly on the phone and get some more information so we can send you money when you need it. I would also like to work on getting you a better place to stay. I don’t like you being in a small place where—”
“Steven.”, Eddie chuckles as he interrupts his friend. “Look at her.”
As his eyes glanced over you, he realized you had fallen asleep, your steady breathing and calm face making them swoon.
“Am I asking for too much? I hate the idea of her living somewhere she isn’t comfortable.”, the mogul inquires as he slides further under the covers and caresses your skin while the rockstar props up on his elbow. 
“She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.”, he grins. “But no, I don’t think you’re going overboard.”
“You know how we are. That’s why women always took advantage of us.”
“That’s why we’re taking things a bit slower this time so we don’t have another incident like last time.”
Steve growled under his breath at the thought.
“I don’t think Y/N would be as vindictive as our ex was. Yeah she’s got a mouth but she seems up front and honest. I like that.”
“Me to.”
“I hope we aren’t wrong about this one, Ed.”
############
@aol19 @paradisepoisons @paleidiot @dashingdeb16
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houseofanticipation · 1 year ago
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Read from the beginning
You're having a nightmare. In it Master has his cock down your throat. You're gagging, trying to breathe, but he's not giving you a moment to rest. His cock seems impossibly long, and your esophagus impossibly deep; every time you think you've reached the bottom of his shaft, he seems to go a few inches deeper. Tears are streaming down your face, drool hanging off your chin, sweat collecting on your forehead. But the rape—in the dream you know it's rape, though you have no idea how you got here or where you are or even what your surroundings look like—the rape isn't what makes it a nightmare. In fact, for as violent as it should feel, the rape is actually fairly peaceful. The part that terrifies you, fills your dreaming mind with such inescapable dread, is how badly you want it.
His cock must be miles long at this point. His thrusting is speeding up, his broad hands gripping your head more tightly, his nails digging into your skin. You feel him begin to bulge, expand with what must be liters of cum, but his cock is so long that the process isn't instant. The bulge of cum travels down his shaft, like a cartoon character shoved through a pipe too small for them. You feel, and somehow also see, the bulge shooting down your throat, ever deeper, seeming to gain size and speed as it goes. It will be at the head any second now, and when that happens this desperate hunger inside you will finally be sated. You find yourself trembling with need, and simultaneously gripped with absolute terror at just how complete that need is. The two feelings merge into one, a heart-pounding breath-catching spine-tingling skin-crawling something that is too intense to be either good or bad. You know the moment his cum hits your throat, everything will change.
And then you wake up.
The dream ends before you open your eyes. For a long moment you can't move at all; every muscle in your body is seized up in fear, and you can't seem to remember how to relax. You feel something running down your perineum to your ass, and you realize with disgust that your pussy is dripping wet.
The bed of the slave suite is nicer than the one you have at home. (Had at home. It's not like that stuff is yours anymore.) The mattress is huge and perfectly goldilocks-ed between soft and firm, and the silk sheets feel incredible on your naked body. You never sleep naked, but in sheets this soft you might not mind being forced to. As your body begins to relax and you're able to move again, you find yourself stretching out, luxuriating in the bed, allowing its softness to envelop you.
You hear the electronic whir of the lock on your door, and moments later Master is there in a black silk robe, watching you. You sit up and lift the sheet to cover yourself—an odd time to get self conscious, maybe, but you feel the need to control something—but he gives his head a little shake. "Take that off. There's no hiding your body from me." You let the sheet fall, and resist the urge to cross your arms over your breasts. But you sit with your knees together, so he can't see how wet you are. That, at least, he doesn't seem to notice.
"Today is obedience training," says Master. "I doubt it will be enough to completely break your will; that takes time. But at the very least you'll learn my rules, and what happens when you break them. Now, time for your first lesson. Lay on your back and spread your legs."
You wonder how much you can allow before it becomes your fault. Last night you had no choice, you were tied up. You couldn't move, much less stop him as he fucked you. Raped you, you remind yourself. But you're not tied up this morning. You could fight back, at least try to fight back. If you don't try to do anything to stop him, doesn't that mean a part of you wants him to do it again? You need to prove that you don't want him to do it again. You press your knees tighter together and stare at him defiantly.
He just smiles. "Mmm, you're resistant. That's good, it means you get to learn this lesson early." Before you can think he's lunging toward you, his robe billowing open behind him. Under it he wears only a pair of black silk boxers and through them you can see how hard his cock is. This is his favorite part.
He's on you in less than a second, and you're relieved to find that your fight-or-flight response really does kick in. With no option to flee you find yourself beating against him with your fists, kicking with your legs, trying to wrestle out of his grasp, but he is larger and stronger than you in every count. He gets on top of you, his swollen cock twitching against your stomach, and wraps his hands around your throat. You tug at his arms, try to buck him off, but the harder you struggle the tighter his grip gets, and the weaker you feel. You look up into his eyes and see them gleaming with amusement. You stop resisting.
He holds you there a moment longer, letting you plead with your eyes, letting spots play across your vision, before he relaxes his grip and allows you to gasp for air. He does not get off you, nor does he fully release your neck. "I am stronger than you. I am faster than you. I am smarter than you. You cannot overpower me, you cannot outrun me, and you cannot outthink me. Do you understand?"
You stare into his eyes. You can't be sure how clever he is, but he's definitely not lying about the other two. "I understand." Then, remembering yourself, you add, "Master." You feel his cock move when you call him that.
"Good," he says. "Now, because you resisted me I'm going to have to hurt you. You're still learning the rules, so I won't go too hard, but understand that the more you resist the worse it will get. Are you ready?"
What else can you say? "Yes, Master."
He slaps you very hard across the face. Pain shivers across your skin, making your eyes tear up. You thought he hit you yesterday, but that was nothing. That was just getting your attention. He pulls his hand back and when he hits you again it's a little better, because you can steel yourself for it, and a little worse, because he hits harder. As the immediate pain fades, the skin he struck feels tingly and hot. You close your eyes as he raises his hand again, and then he's taking your nipples between his fingers and pinching quite hard. This one surprises you—you suspect that was the point—and you yelp, though to be honest the pain is brief and not as bad as the slaps. You feel his cock strain against his boxers, and take a mental note: he likes when you cry out. Does that mean you should be more vocal, hoping he'll get what he wants and move on, or stay quiet, hoping he gets frustrated and gives up?
You don't take Master for a man who gives up easily.
Indeed, it seems like he's done punishing you for now, though whether that was always his intention or he was waiting for you to cry is anyone's guess. He rubs your cheek tenderly with the same hand he was just using to strike it, brushing away the tears the pain brought to your eyes. "There, there," he says. "I don't want to hurt you..." He looks down at his cock, rock hard against your stomach, and laughs. "Well, you can probably tell that's a lie, but it's no fun when you haven't earned it. Do as you're told, try your best, and I won't hurt you very badly. I may spank you for making mistakes, but that's just responsible slave keeping. Now, are you ready to cooperate?"
He's shown you it's useless to resist, at least head-on. All you'll get for fighting back is more pain, and he promised to make it worse next time. So you say, "Yes Master."
"Good," he says, finally getting off you. "Now. Spread your legs." You do as he says, and notice with some surprise that you are no longer ashamed of your nudity. Maybe those slaps knocked something loose in you, whatever part of your mind was still clinging to the idea of preserving your honor. You're going to have to give up on pride if you want to survive this situation.
Master kneels at the foot of your bed to get eye level with your groin, and makes an appreciative sound. "It really is a beautiful pussy. You'd go for quite a lot with a pussy like that, even with that attitude of yours. Not that I'm planning on selling you anytime soon. Anyway, go ahead and play with yourself."
You lift your head to look at him, trying to tell if he means what you think he means. What else could he be talking about? It just seems out of character, having you pleasure yourself without pleasuring him. "You heard me," he says. "Masturbate, like you would in your own home. This is your home, after all."
"Yes, Master." You lay your head back on the pillow and lower your hand to your pussy. It's still quite wet from the dream, but you take a moment to warm up anyway: running your fingers over your pussy lips, tracing wide circles around your clitoris, just waking yourself up, getting used to the touch. Then you dip a finger inside yourself, getting it nice and wet, and start using it to touch your clit. Softly at first, just quick swipes across, then longer, slower. You're afraid to tell him you won't get far without something to get you in the mood, something hot to read or watch. But you soon realize that this clit routine is working better than expected: you can feel the orgasm building up faster than you'd have thought for the situation. It's like your pussy doesn't know the difference between fear and arousal. Anything that gets the blood pumping is good enough for me, sweet pea.
As you begin to moan, you find your mind straying unbidden to the way you felt last night, completely helpless, Master on top of you and inside you. You remember the way his cock swelled up when you struggled, the way his eyes looked as he rubbed your clit. You think of the dream, wonder what his cum would have tasted like. He takes you by the wrist and pulls your hand away gently, but before you can protest there's something else touching you, wet and soft and wonderful. It's his tongue, you think, but you don't look. Seeing him doing it would remind you where you are, and you don't want to be reminded. You just want to stare at the the ceiling and lavish in this sensation.
He does it exactly like you would have done it. Somehow, just by watching you for a few minutes, he's figured out exactly how you'd like to be touched. Only somehow he's doing it better. It's like he know what you want next before you do, understands your pussy better than you understand it yourself. As the pleasure mounts you begin to close your legs around his head, barely even noticing as you do it, but without stopping he presses them firmly back into the bed and holds them there. You arch your back, close your eyes, allow yourself to moan unabashedly.
And then he pulls back. The feeling lingers for a moment before falling back, settling down, leaving you twitching and whimpering. Operating on instinct you reach down to bring back the pleasure, but he catches your wrist. "From now on any pleasure you feel comes by my permission. You do not touch yourself without my say so. You do not cum until I feel you have earned it. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"Would you like to earn it?"
The feeling has receded enough to let you think more clearly, and the shame is creeping in on you. Knowing how much you needed him in that moment, how you would have done anything for him to make you cum, let him hurt you or degrade you or humiliate you. You hate giving him that power; you know the more power you give him over you the harder it will be to escape.
You also know how desperately you want to cum.
"Please Master," you say, voice shaking. "Let me earn it. Let me earn the right to cum."
You can see in his eyes and in his cock how much he likes that. "Good girl."
Being Master's fuckdoll turns out to be more than just sitting around and waiting for him to pump some cum into you. Your entire life is to be dedicated to increasing his pleasure. After breakfast (a bowl of plain oatmeal that you eat with your hands, no spoon having been provided) Master shows you how he likes his shoulders rubbed after a long day at work. You take to it quickly, and you're surprised how satisfying it is to hear his appreciative groans as you dig your thumbs into his tense musculature. He puts his tongue on you again, this time laying you out on the living room sofa, letting you whimper and moan, but he still doesn't allow you to cum. The next thing he teaches you is how to greet guests when they come over: where to put their coats, how you're expected to touch them, if and when to suck their cocks. You make a few mistakes in the practice runs he makes you do—it's a lot to take in, and it gets harder to focus each time he brings you close to orgasm—but you do pretty well. When the lesson is over he lays you across his lap and spanks you mercilessly, his cock hardening again as you whine and cry and beg his forgiveness. When he's done he says, "only ten spanks is better than most girls get for that lesson. You're a natural learner." You have to remind yourself not to be proud of that accomplishment. And then he licks you again, and any thoughts in your head go out the window.
That's the pattern for the rest of the day: Master gives you a lesson in how to behave in his house. He spanks you for each mistake you made during the lesson. Then he brings you right up to the edge of orgasm. He teaches you how to mix his favorite drinks, and when he'll want one. He ties you up in a number of different ways, showing you the right positions to assume to make it easier for him. He shows you the different ways he likes you to sit with him in the living room as he reads a book or watches a movie: your favorite is when he stretches out on the couch and lets you cuddle his leg, your head in his lap. He pretends not to notice as you gently grind your clit against his bare calf, but the swelling of his cock betrays him. As long as you don't cum, you think, he'll let you get away with it.
Each time he stops you from cumming you get a little more desperate, a little more delirious. You make more mistakes as the day goes on, and he has to spank you more with each lesson, but a funny thing is starting to happen. Because spanking always immediately precedes his tongue on your clit, you find yourself starting to get wet as soon as his hand strikes your ass. It hurts, but you don't mind the pain—you kind of like it even. It's exhilarating, makes you feel warm and tingly, and you think it heightens the pleasure when he starts touching you more tenderly. By the end of the day he doesn't even have to spank you: you can feel yourself getting wet as soon as you're in position.
It doesn't escape Master's notice. He runs his fingers along your vulva, sending a delicious chill up your spine, and gives your head a scratch. Nobody's ever done that to you before, but since he started doing it this morning you can't get enough of it; you whimper with pleasure, melting into the couch and into his lap. "You're beginning to like your punishments," he says. "You're a good girl, good girls know how good it feels to get what you deserve. Just so long as you aren't acting up on purpose to make me spank you. If that starts happening I'll need to find another way to hurt you."
You shake your head vigorously. "No Master, never!" And you mean it; it wouldn't feel as good if you knew you hadn't earned it for one of your stupid mistakes.
"Good," says Master. "I think you're ready for your final lesson of the day." He moves you off his lap without giving you your spanking, which disappoints you a little, but when you get your face out of the sofa and turn around your heart leaps with sudden thrill. He has removed his boxers, letting his erection hang in front of you. "It's time you learned how to suck my cock."
Without you quite noticing, most of the shame has slipped away from you throughout the day, but you're reminded of it in this moment. You remember how much you wanted to taste him in your dream, how it felt disgusting and ecstatic and violating and thrilling all at the same time. You hate yourself for what you've already become; a day of orgasm denial and you're already his simpering little slut? Are you really that weak?
But what else should you do? Fight for your life, be punished over and over, live your life in a cage waiting until someone is ready to rape you? Isn't this way better? Why force yourself to be miserable when you can feel this good all the time? You can still work on your escape plan. It doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself along the way. So you leave your shame behind; let it fall off you like a coat you've grown too big for. You get on your knees in front of Master. You look up into his cold eyes. And you begin to suck his cock.
He likes you to look at him. That's good, because you like looking at him too. You like to see his face react to each movement of your lips, each flick of your tongue. His head is dripping with precum—you realize today's activities have probably teased him just as much as they did you, and he didn't even get the release you did. It's warm and salty and just flavorful enough to tease you after the three meals of oatmeal you've had today. You feel yourself dripping with anticipation of what his cum will taste like. You feel insane. You don't know if you've ever been this horny in your life.
He likes it when you lick that strip of skin on the underside of his head, but it's too much all on its own. He shows you how to switch it up, swirling the head of his cock around your tongue, pushing up and down his shaft with your lips and cheeks and throat. He's not interested in shoving himself down your throat with every thrust—he likes throatfucking, he says, but that's not what this is about. This is about you servicing him, not him masturbating with you as a proxy. Still, he likes it when you take his whole cock down your throat, especially when you use your hand to play with his balls at the same time.
At some point he transitions to sitting down, and you to laying belly-down on the couch with your head bobbing in his lap. He lays his head back and moans softly, and you swell with pride at how good you're able to make him feel. His hand is on the back your head, not pushing you onto him, just running his hand through your hair, scratching your scalp with his manicured nails. It feels so good you almost can't keep sucking. You wonder if anyone has ever cum from having their head scratched.
He's getting close. You can feel it in the way his cock swells, the way his fingers become more frenetic on your scalp. You close your eyes and you're back in the dream, watching the bulge of cum speed toward you, dying to know what he tastes like. Then he's gripping you by the hair and lifting you off him, letting your cheek rest on his thigh. "That's enough," he says. "Or you'll make me cum."
"No!" you say, whipping your head up to face him. "I mean, I'm sorry Master, just...please, please may I taste your cum?"
He stares into your eyes, that appraising expression seeming to penetrate your mind and slither through your darkest secrets. He strokes your cheek. "Usually I prefer to cum in your pussy," he says. "But today I'll make an exception, because you've been such a good girl."
You almost weep with relief. "Thank you Master. Thank you so much." You return your attention to his cock, and he moans with renewed pleasure. You feel his weight shifting, and a moment later his hand is sliding between you and the couch, and his fingers are working your clit exactly how you like it. You moan into his cock and lift your ass up to give him better access.
It doesn't take either of you very long. He was seconds away from bursting a moment ago, and you've been in a state of sustained arousal since this morning. He tells you to finish him off with that move he likes, licking under the head, so you do just that. As his fingers quicken across your clit and his cock stiffens in your mouth, you suck your lips onto his head, stroke his shaft with your hand, and flick your tongue across that strip of skin as fast as you can. His fingers reach a fever pitch and you find your ass raising further in the air as your legs straighten, your toes splay out, your back arches. A wonderful, aching glow pours through your pussy and into your stomach and you close your eyes as his cock finally erupts into your mouth. Mouthful after mouthful of warm, thick cum shoots out of him, almost faster than you can swallow, and you feel the dream of this morning melting away. The dream was hot, sure, but it can't stand up to real thing. The texture of his cum on your lips and tongue. The pleasure radiating through your body as his fingers softly stroke you clit and labia. The way it feels to have him in your stomach, like a part of him is becoming a part of you. The feeling of his softening cock against your lips, his balls in your mouth as you run a sensual hand through the hair on his legs. You close your eyes, trying to capture this moment forever.
He lets you stay there as he turns on the TV. You don't understand the show he's watching—it's in a language you don't speak, and your brain is too fluttery at the moment to follow the subtitles—but it doesn't matter. The feeling of his skin against your skin, his cock against your cheek, his hand playing absentmindedly through your hair...it's perfect bliss. Just this morning you were thinking about how to fight back, how to escape. Why would you ever want to leave if you get to feel like this everyday? You'll probably feel differently in the morning, but for right now you allow the moment to take you, let yourself be carried away on a wave of warm, happy calm.
Some time later you are dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you, placing you in your bed. You snuggle into your lovely sheets, only half awake, and the last thing you remember is him lowering his head between your legs to give you a good night kiss.
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madschiavelique · 1 year ago
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was a bit hesitant to ask this but thoughts on how Miguel would feel if reader was vv self conscious abt their body/said anything negative abt their appearance..? (talking abt this as someone who's also self conscious abt their body cuz i need to know how he would react/what he would say to the reader tbh 😭)
AAAAAAA BESTIE I FEEL YOU !! I'm part of the self conscious about their body gang - i just had to write more than just a thought on this<3
when it comes to self consciousness about my body, there's always one line from the song Paradis by Orelsan (french rapper), that says "Je comprends pas pourquoi tu t'inquiètes quand tu prends du poids. Pour moi, c'est ça de pris, ça fait toujours plus de toi." which i used in this text (clue : it'll be in italic)
summary : miguel reassures a self conscious reader on their body content warnings : comfort, fluff, miguel being a worshipper of you, genderneutral!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 739 tag list : @fandom-ash
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Miguel is a man who notices details, all the more so when those details are related to you. He noticed how you looked at yourself in the mirror from time to time, how you sometimes stood on your tiptoes when you were sitting to make your thighs look less large, how some days, even when it was hot, you wore a sweater covering you completely.
You were used to wearing baggy clothes, oversized sweaters and t-shirts, baggy pants, nothing that showed too much of your curves.
He'd noticed how you'd changed your diet lately, and how the portions you allowed yourself were... far too small for a normal meal.
You were depriving yourself of your favorite snacks, and even when Miguel offered you some, you begrudgingly refused. He could see the pain in your eyes, and he couldn't understand.
Then one day, standing in front of the mirror in your underwear, you started to cry. Miguel came running straight to you, taking you in his arms as you wept silently, little jolts shaking your body.
He stroked your back and hair gently, letting the sobs take their place as you sniffled against his shoulder.
"Hey hey hey," his voice was low, as if he felt that a word or a gesture a little too strong could break you into a thousand pieces, "nena, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping back.
He wiped your tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes were reddened and your lips bulged with heartache.
"I hate my body."
His heart cracked, and he came to take you in his arms again. So that was the reason for all this, for your restrictions, for all these choices that were doing you more harm than good. He couldn't understand how you could think such a thing, because he worshipped you like the goddess or god or deity you truly were.
"I wish I just looked different," you murmured against him.
"Why?" he asked, pulling away from you again to cup your face.
"Because, I look ugly, I feel ugly..." you sighed, your brow furrowing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks.
His lips were parted, he couldn't understand how it was possible for you to feel this way, to think this way about yourself. He found you so beautiful that the very thought of you thinking that way seemed almost impossible.
"I'm not pretty enough to be with you. There are so many prettier girls and boys than me-" you began, but he cut you off, not even letting you finish your sentence.
"Don't ever say that again," he said, his tone serious and almost warning.
He looked at you, sorry and almost angry. Because he was wondering who he was going to have to correct (annihilate) for having succeeded in making you think you weren't beautiful.
"Come here," he said, lifting you with ease to rest you on the sink while you were still wiping your cheeks. "Listen to me: Your body is not the reason I love you. I've fallen in love with your soul, your qualities and your flaws... even if I'm still trying to find the flaws."
You blew out a quick laugh from your nose, a tear running down your cheek as he brushed it away.
"It doesn't make you a failure, or undesirable, or ugly not to have the body of a celebrity on the cover of a magazine." he said softly as he kissed your cheek, his hand gently caressing your thigh. "Why should you worry about gaining weight?"
"Because it makes me ugly." you murmured, but he gripped your chin between his fingers so your eyes observed the truth in his.
"No, it doesn't make you ugly," he assured. "Even if you do gain weight, for me it's a given, because it always gives me more of you."
Your chin trembled slightly, and you bit the inside of your cheek.
"No matter how long it takes, I'll make you love yourself," he confirmed. "I don't care what you look like, I'll still love you."
You smiled, tears still gently flowing, Miguel coming to place both his hands on your cheeks to clear them. You let out a little laugh:
"Even if I was a worm?" you joked.
He smiled, sighing softly.
"Yes, even if you were a worm." he laughed, kissing your forehead before hugging you again.
"Lucky worm." you whispered, wrapping your arms around his back.
"Lucky me." he whispered against your hair, stroking it gently.
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take-taker-taken · 9 months ago
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Hi! I hope you're having a lovely day/night wherever you are in the world. I'm new here and saw you take requests. Please bare with me, I've never done this before lol. I was wondering if I could have a ministry Taker x fem gothic plus size reader fic? As for smut or fluff I'll honestly let you decide, I'm good with either. I just love ministry taker so much. He has me in a chokehold!
Hello, lovely Anon! I do hope you’re still around and didn’t give up hope of me ever answering you! Here is your beloved Ministry!Taker fic… (link to Part Two is at the end).
Untitled
You carefully apply liner to your eyes, the finishing touch to the smoky look. You know that he’s watching you intently - he always does, to the point where you wonder if he enjoys the ritual of make up as much as you do. You stain your lips a deep, dark red and then sit back and admire the finished product in the mirror.
“You’re beautiful.” The simple statement rumbles from him and you turn to look at where he sits on one of his thrones. This one is slightly smaller than the grand one in the great hall but it’s no less majestic for that. He smiles - an intriguing combination of pleasure, danger and barely-disguised lust - and strokes finger and thumb thoughtfully over his goatee beard. “Come here and sit with me.”
You stand up and turn with a swirl of your black velvet skirt as you smooth down your top, which is cleverly fashioned after his cloak with a deep hood that would hide your face if you used it. The sleeves flare out at the ends, adding to the flowing, floaty quality of the outfit. You slowly walk over to him with a confidence that a few months ago didn’t exist - he used to terrify you and when he plucked you from obscurity to be by his side, you’d barely been able to mutter two words to him. He had chosen, though, and you were to be his. He had seen something in you and so had persevered, not allowing you to be away from him for too long at a time, determined that you would not only grow accustomed to him but that you would learn to find pleasure in his company.
He extends a hand to you as you approach and unafraid, you reach out and take it as you step up on to the platform that the throne sits upon. You know that when he bids you to ‘come and sit with’ him then he wants you close and sure enough, he pulls you in and you hop up on to his lap. As huge as he is, you had been so self conscious the first few times; worried that you were not a waif-like figure. Such things are no longer a concern and you smile and lean against him as one powerful arm encircles you, his fingers stroking up and down your waist.
Your head tucks neatly under his chin if you press yourself fully to him, but you find that you’re feeling playful tonight. His immediate attention has been taken by the book that rests on the arm of the throne and so you slowly slide your hand up the centre of his back. He doesn’t react until you reach his neck, your fingers seeking the bare skin that hides beneath his mane of dark hair. You scratch the nape gently and he rolls his shoulders with a low, rumbling sigh of satisfaction. Encouraged, you turn your face up and deliver a row of small kisses to his jawline before reaching up to give a soft tug on his beard. He turns at that and you look up into stormy green eyes before giving a cheeky giggle, but your hand doesn’t relinquish its grip on the facial hair.
“Something ails you, my princess?” His voice is never particularly animated but you don’t find that scary anymore.
“You called me all the way over here, but seems you’re only interested in that book.”
His arm tightens around your ample waist while his other hand reaches up and covers over the one of yours that holds his beard. “Wanting some attention are you, little one?”
You nod as you give him a playful pout and a mildly pleading look. He guides your hand from his chin and then raises it to his lips, kissing it softly as you look on. He lets go of your hand and then nudges your chin up with one long finger. He kisses along your jaw just as you did to him and you close your eyes, enjoying the feel of the bristly hair against your skin.
“Such a stunning gothic beauty,” He murmurs into your ear, the timbre making you shiver pleasantly. “I knew from the moment I saw you that there was fire inside you.” He caresses the back of your neck with the tips of his fingers while his other hand seeks out the hem of your top so that he can touch bare skin. “It just needed someone to nurture that glow…” As his fingers stroke across your stomach you think back to the beginning of your time with him, when you used to try and move away from touches like this, fearing that there was ‘too much’ flesh there. Now you have no such worries and wriggle around, turning yourself in his lap as his kiss returns, to your mouth this time.
He teases your lips apart and you gladly open your mouth to allow his long tongue entry and place your hand on the side of his face. There’s still a part of you that can’t quite believe that you’re allowed to touch him, to kiss him and to lay with him. He chose you to be at his side; he chose to love you. You open your eyes and whimper slightly with disappointment as he draws back from the kiss and there’s amusement in his gaze.
“You’re wanting more, princess?”
“Always,” you reply, your thumb stroking his cheek.
“I rather fear that I shouldn’t.” He says teasingly. “You only just finished your make up and if I take you to bed then it’ll surely be ruined.”
You smile up at him and tug gently on his beard again. “I don’t mind.”
He growls at your latest assault on his facial hair and snaps his teeth playfully at your hand before standing up with you in his arms. You giggle delightedly as you know that nobody else sees this side to him.
“Very well, girl - you leave me no choice but to teach you some consequences for your teasing.” He dips his head and kisses you again before drawing back to nip at your lips with his teeth. You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck and let your head fall against his chest as he carries you from the room while muttering dark, lustful promises.
TTT
Next
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masterjasper223 · 2 years ago
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Then and Now - Blood Moon
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(Warnings: underage sex, period sex, angst)
Lupin Then
Dating a werewolf wasn't something to romanticise, but that wasn't to say it didn't come with its advantages.
For one, no one had more sympathy for you when you were on your period. Remus knew all too well what it was like to have to deal with something painful month after month, something that many of your classmates were blissfully exempt from, yet would most likely be repulsed to hear about.
In fact, you were acutely aware that Remus had it worse on every score, especially the latter; his "condition" was a very well kept secret at Hogwarts, and his education was only able to continue for as long as it remained as such.
But somehow, you'd never expected him to understand all of it: the cravings, the sudden drop in self esteem, the bursts of emotion- from irritation, to sadness, to feeling suddenly... well, unbelievably horny.
Yet as it turned out, you were wrong.
********************************************
It's Sunday afternoon, and the two of you are studying together in an empty classroom on the sixth floor. Or, rather, that had been the plan, before you'd woken up with the tell-tale discomfort in your lower abdomen.
There's little chance of your being productive today, but you decided to join Remus anyway, vaguely hoping that you'd absorb a few scraps of revision just by being in proximity to him.
But even those prospects are looking grim, as you have yet to summon the energy to open your textbook, and are currently slumped across the desk with your cheek pressed into the faded leather cover.
"Remus... Why do you have to be so handsome?" you sigh, staring vacantly at his profile. Something about the way his brows knit together when he's concentrating is very alluring all of a sudden.
"Terribly sorry for the inconvenience," Remus replies, a little testily. To his credit, he's actually trying to get some work done, and has already filled half of the roll of parchment in front him.
"I want to study," you grumble. "But I got my period this morning."
Remus pauses mid-scrawl, shooting you a sympathetic glance. "Then I really am sorry. But you'll be all right if you skip a day or two- I'll give you a copy of my notes to go over later."
"Thanks, Remus," you say, smiling up at him affectionately.
He clears his throat, and shakes his hair out of his eyes in that twitchy sort of way that tells you he's feeling self-conscious, before starting writing again- but he's barely jotted down two words before his quill stops on the page.
"Hang on. What does my being handsome have to do with anything, then?" he demands, shooting you a sideways glance.
"Because I'm horny," you whine, watching with some satisfaction as a flush creeps up your boyfriend's neck. "But since I'm on my period, we can't... you know..." You walk your fingers up his arm, searching for the right expression. "...play around." You haven't actually had sex yet, but you've gone a bit further than snogging on more than one occasion.
"Why not?" Remus asks, hoarsely. His quill slides from between his fingers and rolls to the side of his notes, where it lies dripping ink, forgotten.
"Because we'd make a mess, of course. Not to mention, I'm in pain." You grimace, massaging your belly under the desk. "And I don't feel very sexy today."
To your surprise, Remus offers you a wry smile and says, "Ah. That sounds familiar."
"Which part?"
"All of it. The pain, I've told you about. But leading up to the full moon, I'm- something of a mess. Less so now than I used to be, but I still can't stand to see myself in the mirror, and I get... cravings."
"Me, too!" you say, sitting up and swivelling around in your chair to face him. "I crave chocolate worse than if I'd been hounded by dementors."
"I crave red meat," Remus admits. "And, er... human contact."
You raise your eyebrows at him. "You mean you get horny, too?"
Remus nods, his cheeks now very pink. "But I wouldn't want to do anything about it," he says, quickly, glancing away. "I can't. I don't trust myself." He shakes his head, as if to clear it, and you're surprised to find that there's a mischievous spark in his eyes when they flick back to yours. "But it's different in your case. Very different."
"How so?" you ask, a little more sharply than you had intended. You can't help but feel that that's rather presumptuous of him.
"Well, for one, this is the safest time of the month for you to have sex," he points out. "And for another, according to- certain sources- it might just be one of the best times."
You understand 'certain sources' to mean the debauched experiences of Sirius Black.
"At the very least, it could provide some temporary relief," Remus continues, crossing and uncrossing his legs with a wince.
"Are you suggesting we...?"
"Well... yes. I mean, only if you want to."
You smirk at him, but a split-second later all of your confidence evaporates. "You wouldn't find it a turn-off?"
"Of course not. I've seen blood before."
"It's not just the blood. I'm..." you trail off, hugging your stomach, reluctant to put too fine a point on it.
"It won't change how sexy I find you," Remus murmurs, gently. "But if you're uncomfortable, we can wait."
You consider for a moment, weighing your options... but with your heart racing, and desire already pooling in your belly, drowning out the pain, it doesn't take you long to make up your mind.
"If you're sure... I mean, I'd like to." You reach across and place your hand on Remus's knee. He stiffens for a moment, swallowing thickly, before laying his fingers over yours and giving them a squeeze. "But where? When?"
Remus glances around the empty classroom. "Not here- we won't be able to relax. There's always the Astronomy Tower, no one goes up there during the day..." He pauses, glancing up at the ceiling. "But I, er, think I can arrange for the boys' dormitory to be empty for a few hours. Tonight, if you like."
"Tonight, then," you agree, leaning forward to place a kiss on his cheek.
*********************************************
It's not your first time in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, and it won't be your last. As promised, the two of you are alone- which is why you're sitting on the end of Remus's four-poster, with your thighs wrapped around his hips, and his arms wrapped around your back, snogging as if your lives depend upon it.
But when you reach between your bodies to grasp his cock through the fabric of his robes, Remus squeezes your waist and draws back, panting, his lips flushed from kissing you and his eyes bright with desire. "Are you sure?" he asks, eyes flicking between yours. You nod impatiently, tugging at the front of his robes. "Okay," he chuckles. "Just- tell me if you want to stop."
"You, too," you say, sucking in a big breath before crashing your lips against his. But you're not content with snogging anymore. While Remus's hands cup your cheeks, yours begin to wander, raking down his back and chest, squeezing his biceps and hips, before slipping under the hem of his robes.
The second your fingers close around the hard length straining at his boxers, Remus's fingers are on your bare thighs, hitching your own robes up to your hips, as if he's been waiting for permission to touch you all this time.
"Robes- off-" you manage, in between kisses, and you part just long enough to allow Remus to tug your robes over your head, and to help him do the same. A moment later, your bra joins the pile of robes on the floor. Then he stands up- your legs tighten instinctively around his hips- and lays you down on your back on the mattress, supporting himself on his elbows in order to get a good look at you.
"What about the blood?" you ask, breathlessly, plucking at the quilt underneath you.
"That's what scouring charms are for," he says, grinning as he nuzzles your cheek.
Your answering giggle turns into a gasp as his warm hands slide along your bare skin. Remus licks and sucks at your neck as his fingers explore every inch of you, relishing in the little hums and moans you make for him, until he works up the courage to remove the last scraps of fabric separating you from him. Then he begins massaging your inner thigh as he kisses his way down your neck, fingers trembling and blood pounding in his ears.
"Remus... Aren't you forgetting something?" you pout, tugging at the waistband of his boxers, and he chuckles nervously before kicking them off.
But soon all trace of nerves are gone as you start pumping him in your closed fist, and he becomes putty in your hands, weeping precum into your palm, fingers digging into your thighs as he pushes them apart.
"Can I- try something?" he asks, squeezing your wrist with shaking fingers to get you to stop. You nod, releasing him, and lick your lips, wondering what he has in store for you.
Remus takes a moment to admire you again as he settles back on his haunches, before slowly lifting your thighs, spreading them, and positioning himself at your entrance. But instead of sliding in, he begins swirling his tip around your slit.
Fuck, that feels good.
You're so warm and slick that the tip of his cock slips in by mistake, and dips in and out of you without any resistance. You're even more sensitive than usual, and the extra moisture feels so delicious on the head of his cock that within minutes the two of you are twitching spasmodically, on the verge of release. Neither of you is going to last long, but as you watch Remus bite down on his lip, and his Adam's apple bob as he moans low in his throat, suddenly you don't care.
"Remus- please..." Your breath catches- you can't think of anything more to say- and a moment later you've stopped thinking altogether as he fills you for the first time.
It's bliss, pure and simple. Even more so when he begins to move, snapping his hips back and forth, creating delicious, slippery friction. You fit him like a glove, but even though you're tight around him he has to be careful only to pull out halfway, in case he slips out.
You can tell that exercising this control is costing Remus a lot; his brows are knitted together in concentration, as if he's studying a particularly tricky revision question, and sweat is trickling down his naked chest.
He's watching you, too; his eyes flick between your face and the place where your bodies are joined, enraptured at the sight of you beneath him. You can feel him drinking it all in: your spread thighs, your trembling breasts, your flushed cheeks and messy hair...
He groans your name, and that's when you feel a throb- a throb so deep within your core, and so unlike anything you've ever felt, that at first you're not sure if it's coming from him or you. Then you feel a tug behind your navel, not unlike the sensation of using a portkey, followed by a flood of wetness between your thighs as a fresh wave of bliss washes over you. Remus's fingers dig into your skin, and he bucks his hips several times before collapsing on top of you and burrowing his face into your neck.
You lie like that for a long time, just holding each other, revelling in one another's warmth; though you can't help but fidget a little, as slick drips from your slit, and his soft cock, still inside you, begins to firm up again, making your sensitive walls tingle.
You wonder if he'll want to go again- wonder if you could even handle it- but eventually Remus pulls out of you and rolls onto his side, propping his chin on one fist. Gazing down at you through half-lidded eyes, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and whispers, "How do you feel?"
"So good." The ache in your belly is gone, and every last muscle in your body seems to sigh with contentment at your release.
"Well, that answers my next question," Remus chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple. "But don't get too comfortable. We'll have to clean up soon."
"Just a bit longer..." you groan, nuzzling your face into his chest. You're already dreading the walk back to your dormitory.
"Of course. I don't mind." He rolls the quilt over you and tucks it under his arm, pressing you more firmly against him. "But- best not stay too long if you want those revision notes. I, er, didn't get much done after our talk earlier."
*******************************************
You're both so spent that neither of you notices the door click shut behind you, or hears the whispered exchange between James and Sirius as they tiptoe down the stairs to the common room.
"Moony, you beast..."
"You owe me ten galleons, Prongs."
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Lupin Now
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When you open the door, Remus is more surprised than you- but then, Dumbledore had told you to expect him.
Clearly, Remus had not been so well informed.
His eyes fly wide, and he whispers your name like a prayer- before quickly clearing his throat, as if to erase it. "Er, how are you?" he asks, with all the forced politeness one uses when addressing a total stranger.
"I'm all right, Remus. Or should that be Professor Lupin?" you tease, managing a grin in spite of the ache in your chest.
"Just Remus, now," he says, returning the smile a little stiffly. "My teaching career was rather short-lived, I'm afraid."
Ah. Perhaps you're not as well informed as you'd thought.
"Well, come in," you say, throwing the door wide. "I'll make us a cup of tea, and we can catch up a bit before we get down to business."
You make it halfway down the corridor before you realise Remus isn't following you, and turn to see him framed in the doorway, staring at his feet. Without meeting your gaze, he mutters, "I'm... not sure that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
Remus swings his arms, and inspects the frayed sleeve of his robes, clearly stalling for time. In fact, you get the distinct impression that he's searching for an excuse. Finally, he says, "I'm afraid I'll disappoint you."
"Disappoint me?" you echo. You feel a sharp twist in your stomach, and something hot and prickly claws at your throat. "Disappoint me?" you repeat, louder this time. "After all these years, that's what you say to me?"
He flinches, and his face twists as if he's in pain, but he still doesn't look at you.
That does it.
You storm up to him, yank on his sleeve, and, the second he's over the threshold, shove him against the wall next to the door, which slams shut of its own accord. Remus doesn't fight you- in fact, he barely reacts at all- but he does place a hand on your shoulder, as if he's determined to keep you at arm's length.
It's insulting. You grind your teeth, resisting the urge to draw your wand.
"When you cut me out of your life the second we left Hogwarts, do you think I was disappointed? When you made sure none of my owls could find you, do you think I was disappointed? When you tried to get me kicked out of the Order, do you think I was disappointed? When I had to hear about James, and Lily, and Peter, and Sirius second-hand, do you think I was disappointed? Do you? Because I wasn't disappointed! I was bloody heartbroken!"
Silence hangs in the air between you.
Then Remus looks up, and finally meets your eyes. "I am sorry," he says. He pauses for a moment, as if to let the words sink in, before continuing, "I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was doing what was necessary to protect you. It was a foolish notion. I see that now- and I regret it.
"But at the time, I thought that it was right, and that that fact alone justified the pain I was causing you. It was selfish of me. I told myself I was sacrificing my happiness for your safety, when in reality, I was sacrificing your happiness for my peace of mind." He gently squeezes your shoulder, and tries to extract himself from your grip. "I have no intention of asking for your forgiveness. The fact that I tried to avoid this conversation proves that I am a coward. Once we've concluded our business here, I'll make sure you never have to hear from me ag--"
You push him back against the wall, cutting him off. His arms fall limply to his sides.
"I can't believe you. You're about to make the same mistake all over again!"
Still holding your gaze, Remus takes a deep breath and slowly shakes his head. "This is diff--"
"No, it isn't! You're making it seem like you're doing this for me, but this isn't what I want! I've never..." Suddenly, a terrible thought occurs to you, and your fingers curl reflexively into the front of his robes. "Unless... it's what you want?"
He hesitates for only a fraction of a second before answering. "It is."
The words pierce your heart like shards of ice- but you have to be sure. Swallowing thickly, your eyes desperately searching his, you force your numb lips to form the question. "You... don't want to be with me... like we used to... anymore?"
Remus stiffens, and you could swear you feel his pulse skip under your fingers. But his reply is as cold as it is resolute. "No."
"I... I see."
Your heart drops like a stone in your chest. You're not sure if he's being honest with you, but you decide that it doesn't matter anymore. If this is how he wants it, then so be it. You've made up your mind, as well- on two counts.
The first, you retrieve from its clever hiding place in your kitchen. It's a delicate charm bracelet, from which dangle three tiny phials, each brimming with a pearly substance that is neither gas nor liquid. You grab Remus's hand, still hanging limply by his side, and coil it into his palm.
"This is everything I can tell you about the Department of Mysteries. I hope it helps."
Now your Order business is concluded.
As for the second count...
You wait until Remus has tucked the phials safely into his briefcase. Then you splay a hand on his stomach, and spear him with a look so intense that you feel him freeze up under your fingertips.
"When was your last time?"
It takes Remus half a second to catch your meaning. When it dawns on him, his mouth forms a small 'o', and at length he replies, so quietly that you have to read the words off of his lips to make them out, "Seventh year. Right before the end-of-term feast."
Your answer exactly.
So, he hasn't had anyone since you, either. Which means- if your memory of his libido is anything to go by- Remus must be as touch-starved as you are.
"Spend the night."
To your surprise, he places a hand over the one splayed on his stomach. You lace your fingers with his, and he doesn't pull away.
"Please."
But then Remus laughs bitterly and shakes his head. "I cant. Tonight's the full moon." He cups your cheek with his free hand, and his thumb strokes the fullness of your lower lip. "I'll have to lock myself away."
You sigh and lean into his touch, wishing you could be there for him, that he didn't have to go through it alone. But you know he wouldn't want you to see him in that form. So instead of offering, you ask, "Do you have the potion with you?"
He answers with a curt nod. You can't help but notice that his hands still haven't left you.
He wants you.
No, scratch that- he needs you. You can see it in his eyes. Try as he might to hide it, you know that look all too well.
But you also know that he doesn't trust himself enough to be close to anyone right before the full moon. You never did make love during the week leading up to the transformation; he was always careful to put some distance between the two of you, and you respected that distance, knowing that he would close the gap the moment the lunar cycle began anew.
The question is, what will Remus say now? He's already denied himself the chance to be with you. Will he really deny himself this, as well?
You lick your lips, deciding to make this your final push. You've made up your mind- it's time for him to make up his.
"It's still early. You could stay until you need to take it, then disapparate. Or... we could make it quick."
He hesitates. The fingers laced with yours spasm, as if he's on the verge of pulling them away- but his other hand betrays him, thumb gently tugging on your lower lip.
"Do you still remember our first time?" you ask, before you can stop yourself.
"Of course," Remus says, a little too quickly. A flush creeps up his neck, and he clears his throat before continuing. "We were... rather irresponsible." He swallows, and his eyes briefly dart down to your mouth, before flicking back up to meet your gaze. "I suppose nothing's changed."
And, without giving you a chance to process this, he crashes his lips to yours.
There's no preamble, no more hesitation. Your tongues dance, and your fingers waste no time in getting reacquainted with every inch of skin they can reach; seeking out the similarities, and revelling in the changes.
This Remus isn't all that different from the one in your memory, except for his features,(he's aged quite a bit), and the fact that he's a little underweight for his stature. He also has more scars than you remember, more lean muscle, too; and he's bigger, in more ways than one.
You've probably changed more than he has, and you feel his calloused palms and fingers appreciate every last detail, everything that you are- everything that you've become in his absence.
Remus is the first to strip, kicking off his shoes and breaking the kiss just long enough to tear off his robes. Yours come off next, and any remaining scraps of fabric are left in place, to be pulled roughly aside whenever they get in the way.
You throw your arms around his neck, and he picks you up at the waist, spinning you around to press your back against the wall. Squeezing his hips with your thighs, you reach in between your bodies to grip his cock, pulling back just enough to be able to watch his expression as you touch him. Remus's eyes are dark with lust, his breathing ragged- you've never seen such a look of intense desire.
And it's all for you.
Biting your lip, you rub the head of his cock around your slit. He's painfully hard, leaking precum onto your palm. It feels so good- even better than you remember. You could come for him, just like this.
But Remus groans and clutches your wrist. "Mmph. Best stop that- if you want me to last."
So you lean up and brush your nose against his, nibbling on his lower lip and teasing his tongue with yours as you slowly fill yourself up with his cock. You're dripping wet for him, so it doesn't hurt, and any twinge of discomfort is quickly drowned out by the pleasure of being stretched.
It starts off slow, as Remus matches every thrust with a sweet kiss, a sweet caress- but it's not long before you find yourself bouncing up and down on his cock.
He fucks you senseless, and you ride him for all you're worth. It's like you're venting your frustrations together- or maybe on each other. But there's no anger or hatred between the two of you; just understanding. Longing. Need. Years and years of it, pent-up and begging for release.
It's delicious. Intoxicating. He fills you to the brim, rubbing places your fingers could never reach. You come quickly- too quickly- but Remus holds himself back, gently rocking his hips as he kisses you down from your high.
Then he carries you into your bedroom, (the door standing open on your right), and lays you down on the bed. For a heartbeat, you think it's over- that he's just going to leave you there. But then he settles himself on the floor between your legs, tugs your ankles over his shoulders, and buries his face between your thighs.
"Remus- fuck-"
Remus has always been good with his mouth. He's so eager to taste you- so eager to devour you. He kisses your slit, open-mouthed, no differently to how he claimed your lips; spreading your folds with his tongue and swirling it inside you, sucking on your clit...You run your fingers through his hair, digging your nails into his scalp, torn between holding his head in place and pulling it away. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, and your thighs are shuddering uncontrollably.
Then, just when you think you can't handle it anymore, Remus stands up, rests one knee on the edge of the bed, and slides his cock back inside you.
Your breath hisses through your teeth, but the pain soon fades as he picks up the pace, rubbing your clit and rolling his hips with every thrust.
Finally, you feel a gush of warmth, and Remus judders to a stop, his eyes boring into yours as he groans your name. That's all it takes for you to come undone a second time, and you're still twitching in pleasure as he slumps forward onto your chest.
You wrap your arms around him, eyes fluttering closed. It almost feels like you could be back in the boy's dormitory in Gryffindor tower, taking advantage of your alone time in his four-poster.
"I've missed you." The words spill from your lips before you can hold them back, but you instantly regret them as Remus freezes up again.
"I..." There's so much he wishes he could say, but to do so would mean going back on everything he's said, and undoing the choice he made all those years ago. The choice he reaffirmed the instant you answered the door.
So Remus swallows the words he was going to say, and replaces them with, "I have to go."
Even though you knew this was coming, it still hurts. You pull your arms away from him and roll onto your side, hugging yourself instead. Then, without looking at him, you tilt your head in the direction of the front door. "Lock it behind you for me, will you?"
Remus nods and pulls himself to his feet. He ducks out of the room, dresses quickly and cleans himself up with a wave of his wand. Then he comes back in and gently covers you with your duvet.
"Take care," he murmurs, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
"You, too."
You hear the front door close, and a faint rap on the wood as Remus taps it with his wand, followed by the sound of the lock sliding into place of its own accord.
Then there's a loud crack, and just like that, he's gone.
256 notes · View notes
pecanwriter · 7 months ago
Text
Pathetically Self-conscious Losers (SSBHM)
Themes: mutual self-consciousness, omegaverse but no mpreg mentioned 
Words: 2815
Part: 1/1
Jamal swallowed heavily, instinctively sucking in his gut. He checked the address on the website again. The building number checked out, but there was nothing on the door to indicate this was what he was looking for. Uncertain, he looked around. There was an omega sitting on a shaded bench nearby. With a resigned sigh, Jamal approached him. 
“Um, hi, excuse me?”
The man startled, glancing up at him and then quickly hiding behind his mop of black hair. 
“Y-yes?” 
“Are you waiting for the Speed Dating event as well? I’ve got the address here but I think I might be at the wrong spot.” 
“Oh, no, no…” The man shook his head vehemently “I could never do that. I’m just people-watching.” 
“What do you mean?” Jamal asked, feeling like this conversation was getting out of control already; this is why he hated talking to people!
“It’s nothing creepy!” The omega hastened to say, almost shoving a thick sketchpad in Jamal’s face “I draw c-comics… I mean, never mind, I’m sorry, I don’t know where your event is.” 
“Can I sit down?” Jamal asked, against his better judgement. 
The omega stiffened for a moment, but eventually nodded hesitantly, still hiding behind his cloud of hair. Jamal sat down, forcing himself not to grunt as his gut immediately strained against his shirt and his belt mercilessly dug into his underbelly. As casually as he could, he leaned back, spreading his thick legs slightly, to make room between them for his overhang. He saw the omega glance at his body but quickly looked away in embarrassment. Of course. Jamal was glad the omega was not looking at him anymore because he was sure his forehead was already coated with sweat. 
“Are those your drawings…?” He asked, unsure why when the omega was so clearly not interested in him. 
“Mhm,” He nodded, placing the book in his lap. His hand hovered over the cover for a moment before he flipped it open. 
The pages were dense with all kinds of drawings, mostly of people and an occasional animal. They were done in an exaggerated, confident style with so much expression it honestly surprised Jamal. 
“Wow, these are fantastic! You’re so good!” He exclaimed, genuinely impressed. 
The omega finally looked at him from behind his curly mane. He smiled and Jamal glimpsed a wide flat nose, large lips and cheeks with a heavy spattering of angry acne. 
“T-thanks, it’s not much…” 
“I mean it, they’re really good. You’re very talented.”
The omega went to brush his hair away from his face but seemed to suddenly remember himself and dropped his hand.
“Why are you hiding behind your hair?” Jamal asked, not sure what on Earth possessed him to say that. 
“I don’t like people looking at my face…”
“Because of the acne?” Again, what the fuck was going on with him, why was he suddenly Mr. Direct? And if his brain chose that day to rid him of his crippling self-doubt, couldn’t it have waited for the Speed Dating event at least? 
The omega nodded.
“It’s ugly…”
“It’s not ugly.” Jamal said with conviction “It’s just skin, nobody has perfect skin.” 
“Most people have better skin than me though…” 
“It’s not ugly,” Jamal repeated. 
The omega looked at him again. He had very large, brown eyes and arched eyebrows. Jamal had to admit, the acne was severe, but it didn’t make him any less pretty. 
“I’m Omari.” The omega said. 
“Jamal,” Jamal said, praying to whoever would listen that he wasn’t sweating as much as he thought he was “Ironically enough,” he added with an awkward chuckle. 
“What? What do you mean?”
“Jamal means handsome in Arabic.” He explained “I was adopted, but my white mother, bless her heart, didn’t want to erase my heritage and kept it. If I’m honest I wished she gave me some generic white name like Logan or something.”
“I think it suits you,” Omari said shyly.
Jamal looked away, his face hot. His flirting was one thing, but someone flirting back? That has never happened to him in his life. Suddenly, he had the urge to run away, but his fat ass didn’t stand a chance. 
Before he could come up with something to say, Omari spoke again.
“I think your event is starting.” he pointed to the building. Jamal followed his finger and sure enough, a steady line of pampered omegas and alphas in suits was pouring into the building. 
“Yeah, seems like it.”
“You should go, or you will be late.” 
“Or I could sit here and people-watch with you?” Who was he? Was he actually flirting with an omega he just met randomly out in public? 
“But you paid for it?” 
“Yeah, but it’s pointless.” He waved it off “Omegas are never interested in me anyway. I mean, obviously…”
“Why not? You’re handsome.” Omari said with the same firmness with which Jamal just told him acne didn’t matter. Were they actually flirting or were they just two self-conscious losers trying to make each other feel better? 
“I’m barely 5’10 and 500 lb.” He pointed out, staring at the massive gut hanging between his legs. 
“What does that have to do with you being handsome?”
“I supposed the same thing your acne has to do with you being pretty.” 
Oh, dear Lord, they were both. They were pathetically self-conscious losers who WERE flirting. 
“So,” Jamal said after a moment of awkward silence “Teach me to people-watch.” 
Omari chuckled, breaking the awkward spell. 
Somehow, an hour later, Jamal waddled to his car with an omega’s phone number in his pocket and without even going into the Speed Dating event. 
Could it be, were things finally coming up Jamal?
*
Things were not coming up Jamal. He was trying to find something flattering to wear for his date, but everything he owned made him look like a hog trying to stuff itself into human clothes. When he managed to somewhat contain his enormous belly his love handles would pop out, if he managed to cover them, his ass would stick out ten times more than it usually did. There was a shirt that looked good both around his belly and love handles, it even went well with the only pair of pants that wasn’t obscenely tight around his massive ass, but it, in turn, made his breasts look enormous and showed off his back rolls. 
He gave up with a dramatic sigh, flopping down onto the bed like a beached whale and pulled out his phone. 
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Jamal.”
“Are you cancelling the date…?” Omari sounded as if that was exactly what he was expecting.
“What? No, of course not! I was just wondering if maybe instead of a dinner we could go to a movie?”
“Oh yes, please.”
Jamal laughed. 
“You sound relieved.”
“I really don’t like restaurants… Too many lights…”
“I’m not a fan of the dress code myself.”
“A movie sounds perfect.” 
“Alright, I’ll check what’s playing and text you.”
He hung up and couldn’t help a relieved sigh. Sitting in the dark for two hours without Omari getting any chance to look at his huge body? Score. 
*
When they arrived at the cinema, everything seemed perfectly fine. Jamal was hiding in his baggiest clothes and Omari was basically a head of hair without a face. The spirits were high.
“It���s been ages since I’ve seen an Indiana Jones movie,” Omari said. He was almost the same height as Jamal. As if the fact he couldn’t wear anything but a 7XL hoodie didn’t make him self-conscious enough, he also had to find the tallest Omega in America. 
“I don’t even know which one was the previous one” he mused.
The head of hair made a humming sound. 
“I don’t know either.”
Jamal laughed but didn’t manage to reply as they were the next ones up to be served. 
“Hello, two for Indiana Jones, please.”
“I’m sorry” The Beta said and her sour smile told Jamal she was the furthest thing from sorry. “There is a weight limit of 350 lb on the theatre seats.”
Jamal finally understood what it meant when people claimed their souls left their bodies.
“He’s 350 lb,” Omari said firmly. 
The cashier turned her disgustingly fake smile on him. 
“No, he’s not.” She said slowly, her smile turning even more fake. “I’m so sorry!” 
“You could’ve told us sooner, you saw us waiting,” Omari said. “Come on” He grabbed Jamal’s hand and pulled him away. Jamal was thankful because he doubted his body could move out of its own volition. 
As they were passing the queue, he heard snickers and someone shouting “fatass!” very obviously as he passed. He was sure that if his soul left his body already, it would have now left the planet entirely. 
They left the cinema and began walking down the street in silence. They passed a brightly coloured Ice Cream parlour and Jamal stopped, gazing through the glass longingly. 
“Oh, I could do with an ice cream cone, or three.” he let out a sigh “But I shouldn’t.” 
“Neither should I” 
“What? Why?” He asked, looking at Omari’s lean, delicate body. 
“Flares up my acne.”
“Oh.” Jamal looked at the display cases inside for a moment longer “It’s worth it.” He said firmly. 
Omari laughed. He was still holding Jamal’s hand and he now pulled him into the Ice Cream parlour. 
Minutes later they were sitting in a booth waiting, having ordered at the counter. 
“Isn’t the table digging into your belly?” Omari asked, cocking his head. 
Jamal looked away, mortified. 
“Yeah, but I don't think the chairs at the tables are sturdy enough to hold me up.” He admitted. But it was fine, his soul had already left his body a long time ago, and it couldn’t get any more humiliating. 
Omari, for some unfathomable reason, dove under the table. When he emerged Jamal glimpsed one eye and a piece of mouth behind the mass of hair. 
“It’s not bolted down! Just push it, I’m gonna pull it.” 
Jamal wanted to protest, but the truth was, that he could barely breathe. With a nod, he pushed. Omari pulled the table towards himself and soon, although it was still a tight squeeze, Jamal could breathe. 
“Thanks,” He said, meaning it. 
“No problem” Omari’s warm fingers gently touched his. “I’m sorry about the theatre…”
“Nope, I’m repressing that,” Jamal said firmly.
“Alright, I respect that.” Omari nodded.
The waitress arrived, placing two Sundaes on the table. Omari’s was pretty with one blue scoop, one pink and one purple, with a swirl of whipped cream and a blueberry syrup drizzle. 
“Forest fruits?” Jamal guessed.
“Wow, you really know your ice cream!” 
“I really, really do.” He said with an embarrassed chuckle, patting his enormous gut. 
It didn’t escape Jamal’s notice his Sundae was almost twice as large as Omari’s.
“What’s yours?” Omari asked, taking to the tippy-top of the whipped cream swirl with his spoon and popping his into his mouth. It was adorable. 
“Chocolate, salted caramel, hazelnut, cookies and cream, I believe that one is just called “Twix”, we have caramel…”
“You already said caramel.”
“Oh no, no. For you see, this one is salted caramel, this one is unsalted caramel.” 
Omari laughed. 
“There’s peanut butter here, a classic vanilla here…” 
“Peanut butter? I didn’t know they made ice cream like that.” Omari’s eye emerged from behind the hair again to peer at Jamal’s ice cream.
“Have a taste!” He offered immediately, diving expertly in, to scoop a spoonful of the specific flavour. Without thinking he outstretched the spoon to Omari. After a moment’s hesitation, the omega pulled his hair a little to the side to take Jamal’s spoon into his mouth.
“Ooooh!” Omari’s face lit up in excitement. “It’s so good!”
Jamal laughed. “I’m glad I could teach you something useful today.” 
Omari smiled shyly and went to pull his hair over his face. 
“Please don’t.”
One eye peered at Jamal questioningly, hand still poised halfway to his face.
“I’m super flared up right now…” Omari said weakly. It was true, his cheek was dark with inflamed cysts and zits. 
“It’s okay, Omari.” He reached over the table. “Please don’t hide. I want to see your face.”
“But…”
“I want to see my date’s face.” Jamal insisted with a gentle smile, but Omari still looked terrified. “How about this, what if you just uncover your face on this side, facing the wall? Nobody will see except for me.” 
With a tiny sight, Omari pushed his hair back, revealing the right side of his face fully. The acne spread his entire cheek and went up to his temple. It really was bad, he could understand why Omari was self-conscious, but at the same time… He didn’t give a fuck about it. He couldn’t even if he tried. 
Omari peered at him anxiously, as if expecting Jamal would spit in his face. 
“Listen, I know you won’t believe me, but I’m gonna say it anyway. Your acne doesn’t make you any less pretty. Now, eat your ice cream, before it melts.” 
Omari said nothing, just took his spoon back up and scooped another spoonful of whipped cream into his mouth. 
“I went on a Tinder date once” Omari said and Jamal couldn’t understand how someone could look so defeated while eating a gorgeous Sundae. Wow, he really was a fucking fatass, wasn’t he? “He saw my face and literally walked out.” 
“Well, you’re in luck” Jamal said lightly “I’m not walking out of here until this Sundae is completely gone. And I’m pretty sure you’ll have to help me wedge out of this booth anyway. You should’ve gone on a date with a fatass sooner” 
Omari laughed weakly. 
“Hey, Jamal… You don’t have to joke about your body, you know that, right?”
“What?” He asked, unfortunately with a mouthful of chocolate drizzle and whipped cream. 
“You don’t have to justify your existence with humour.”
“That was uncomfortably perceptive.” 
“I told you, I people-watch a lot.”
Jamal said nothing, it was his turn to look defeated while eating ice cream. 
“I think you’re very handsome,” Omari said bluntly, making Jamal almost choke with caramel ice cream. He couldn’t help but vaguely not that it would be his preferred way to die. 
“Can we make a packt?”
“What?” 
“I will accept that I’m handsome if you accept that you’re pretty.” 
Omari stared at him. After a moment, he shrugged philosophically.
“Fine.” He said “We can make it even more interesting. “I will keep my face uncovered if you stop joking about your body.” 
Jamal frowned. That would take away ninety per cent of what he had to say, but if that meant he could see Omari’s face, then he was willing to make the sacrifice. 
“Deal.”
“Deal.” 
*
He was sweaty and stuffed uncomfortably full of ice cream, his enormous thighs were rubbing painfully together which made him waddle even more than usual. But he didn’t care, because Omari was holding his hand as they walked to the parking lot. 
“This is my car,” Omari said, stopping. His face was uncovered and Jamal hungrily took every detail of it in. “I really enjoyed our date.”
“So did I, thank you for coming out with me” Jamal smiled and Omari smiled back. They stood still for a moment. 
“Are you… going to kiss me or should I just get into the car and stop making it weird?” Omari laughed nervously. 
“Oh!” Jamal was startled by the fact that was even an option. The only other two dates he’d ever been on ended exactly like that. With a moment of awkward silence in front of the car and no return phone calls. “I’m sorry, yes, I-I would like that.”
“Well?” Omari laughed again, spreading his arms expectedly. 
“Yes, I’m sorry!” Jamal stepped up to him. He misjudged the distance and bumped Omari with his enormous gut. Omari stumbled back, landing against the driver's side door. Horrified beyond belief, Jamal surged forward to apologise but somehow ended up stumbling and crashing into the omega with his entire bulk.
“Well, that’s now exactly what I meant, but I’ll take it,” Omari said with a cheeky smile. He gently placed his hands on Jamal’s thick love handles. 
Swallowing heavily, he placed one hand on Omari’s neck and the other on the back of his head; not wanting to touch his face and irritate the skin. 
Turning his head slightly and with a shaky breath, he closed the distance between them and kissed Omari’s soft lips. It felt unreal.
When they parted, Omari smiled at him. 
“You taste like ice cream.”
“So do you.” 
They both chuckled, going back in for a second, longer kiss. 
Some minutes later, Jamal waddled back to his car unable to stop the goofy smile from spreading across his face.
Things were finally coming up Jamal. 
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sizebrained · 4 months ago
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Unstuck Together: Hazel's Perspective Part 9
Recovering...
Content Warning: Adult themes and language. Mentions of fear, death, danger, terror, therapy, injury, and first meetings. Some touching of sensitive bits, nudity and body talk. FLUFF!
***
"Or whatever?" Hazel said incredulously and crossing her arms over her chest.
"What are you expecting I would be doing that constitutes whatever?"
Ben swallowed hard afraid to answer, not even sure he knew what he had meant.
Oh my god he is a child...Hazel thought to herself sarcastically as he sat there in silence.
"Ben, please." She said, the affection dripping from her voice. "Look at me, I am covered up."
Hazel said thinking her crossed arms counted as covering herself up. It was a very poor attempt at modesty.
Ben took his hand away from his eyes and dared to peek. He saw her lower half this time, her arms covered her chest at least.
"You did not!" he insisted.
"Oh bloody hell..." Hazel said wanting to wipe her face but even her forearms across her chest felt sticky. She was like the underside of medical tape.
It was a new sensation. In a strange way, it was refreshing for its novelty.
She'd been in such a daze at the home and then scraping by in the shed. New was almost exciting, or should be, but for the fact she felt disgusting.
Her tail bothered her the most. The baby oil actually worked to free its fur, even if she did smell like coconut now. She noticed how much heavier it felt behind her.
"Benedito…Please look at me and try to act your age for a moment. I knew boys younger than you that died in war, you can deal with this." She paused for a moment before continuing.
"I still need your help. Will you please help me a little more?" She said softly and expectently up at him.
Ben cleared his throat and took a deep breath, taking his hand away to look at her again.
"Oh god don't call me that! Only my vovó calls me that...Now you really do sound old..." He said looking at her straight on in desperation.
As he looked at her, really looked at her.
He felt his breath catch in his throat and he held it in focus. Her black hair against her pale skin made both look more vibrant than either alone. He could just make out the sharp blue of her eyes looking up at him expectantly. She was stunning…even with the tail.
"Fine. Ben. But only if you act like the grown up you are, deal?" Hazel said, tempted to make him try and shake on it having seen so many Americans do it.
But she realized she'd expose her bare chest and didn't want to start from square one again.
"Deal." He said. He waited for what she was going to ask before putting the pieces together himself and double checking, “I guess you could use some food and a bath?"
Hazel nodded with a slight smirk. He felt dumb.
"You are clever...for an athlete." Hazel said, but she wasn't quite so sure of that…just yet.
"Uh thanks, let me go get uh..." Ben replied finding his other crutch. He then realized as he turned that there was popcorn all over the floor. And he had left his other crutch in the janitor's closet.
Later, after some back and forth, he made a makeshift warm bath for her using a dipping bowl that he used when he ordered take out wings.
It was low enough that she could step in and out on her own. He made a little pile of things and whatever food he had left over next to it.
They were both eating, but Ben was only doing it to feel less self-conscious about just sitting there watching her eat alone. He thought he might look weird if he did that, so he just nibbled on a few things.
She sat there wrapped up in a hand towel.
She was so fascinating, and he kept worrying that this might be some kind of dream. But he hadn't taken any of his pain medication...would those make him hallucinate or dream about this?
It seemed way too specific and real for it to be a dream.
But then was it just a coincidence that he found this beautiful, tiny, and apparently, British woman with a tail trapped in the janitor's closet?
He stopped wondering in silence, and reached over to the bag from his order earlier. The whole affair had taken so long the ice cream was liquid.
He looked at the clock on his wall and saw it was already after 6 am. Then he turned looking at his balcony. The sun would be fully up soon.
He excused himself and left his condo, explaining that he was going to go get his other crutch. She asked he also retrieve her pack since he wanted to go anyway. Hazel considered riding on him or asking him to carry her...but it didn't feel right just yet. She felt the urge and lack of barriers with him. It was a bad sign in some ways. It had taken far longer for her to feel comfortable enough with Mary for either of them to let each other touch.
But with Ben she felt it now...like they were already comfortable enough to cross that line.
After she had explained where to find her pack, under the shelf and behind the cutout, Ben left to retrieve both it and his crutch.
Ben had a much more difficult time getting to her tiny pack than he expected. She really made a small opening even for her. He had to use his pinky finger like a hook to finally retrieve it.
But he returned to his condo a short time later with his crutch, her pack, and the vacuum cleaner rolling behind him. It took some time to alternate dragging it with the crutches.
Then in silence, Ben turned around while she made quite a makeshift outfit from one of Ben's freshly laundered socks he offered. It was more fabric than she could ever use.
Hazel paused along the way to continue to eat and drink slowly so she didn't get sick after being forced to go without for so long. Ben decided to clean as she did.
Finally, his apartment cleaned again after quite an unforgettable night, Ben returned to the stool. He took her in as she stood there. "Hey" Ben simply said.
Hazel smiled saying "Hey yourself."
Their eyes had locked on each other as she continued, "And thank you for the food and letting me destroy your clothes for this." She finished gesturing down at what she had fashioned from it.
"Oh no big deal, I think I lost the other one for that pair anyway so I wouldn't have any use for it." Ben lied. Even though he was so curious about her, she managed to keep asking him question after question like he was the interesting one.
They went on like this for a couple more hours. Hazel learned about childhood, playing basketball, his sister and parents, car accident which sounded truly terrible, and how he came to be in this nearly empty, new building.
As they talked, Ben didn't seem to notice or feel himself slipping lower and lower on the countertop.
Before long, he was resting his chin on his arms. He was very tired and she was very easy to talk to, something he hadn't had since Max died.
Hazel turned around after eating something to ask another question and saw he'd fallen asleep on the stool. His head resting on his crossed arms.
She took in just how massive he was again, realizing he was probably taller than if Mary had gotten onto Jack's shoulders when they were both spry enough to attempt something like that.
She felt the sun shining through the wall of windows on one side of his apartment. They must have been thick, because she couldn't feel the warmth of the light shining in through the wall of windows.
She was overwhelmed and tempted to lay down and sleep herself. But she had to go find Cob, who she was sure was besides themselves with worry. She wondered whether to ever come back. It had been such a terrilbe yet amazing night with this strange, massive new human.
After Mary she was sure she'd stay away from them and live more like her parents had before the Professor came into their lives.
But she could feel something she couldn't describe in words with Ben. And she had a feeling that she'd not only return, but what it would mean for her future. But that could wait for now.
For now she needed to find Cob.
***
End of Part 9
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j4m3s-b4k3r · 9 months ago
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Persistence of Vision
Wide eyed wonder at the drive-in.
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Drive-in theatres are fondly remembered for providing teenagers with both a cover story (a trip to the movies) and a relatively private place (a car) for their furtive, mutual anatomical research. But they were also frequented by families with small children. I remember going to the drive-in to see family films when there were little babies in our family, and I was small myself. In particular I was very affected by seeing Bambi when I was 5 years old.
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My brother Jo was still a small baby and provided his own vocal accompaniment from the front seat. Where he was attended to by my mother, already pregnant with next brother, Rob, who’d be along to help out with the yodeling chores in a few months. Despite the occasional noise, and being treated to moments of SENSE-AROUND when baby-bro had his underthings changed right there in front of me, I was very much engrossed in what was going on up on the screen.
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Before the ages of video, DVD and streaming media, a drive-in theatre was where parents could see movies without having to feel self-conscious about their bawling kids. No need for a baby sitter for the tiny ones, just bring them along. Sealed off in your more or less soundproof bubble, you weren’t likely to bother the other patrons. They were probably families themselves. Or teenagers who had more pressing things (ie; the pressing of “things”) on their minds. But you could easily bother each other, cooped up in there during a double bill of Blue-Beard’s Ghost and Herbie the Love Bug. With all the bickering and crying and spilled drinks and whatnot, there was often as much tragedy and comedy and drama in the car as on the screen.
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The death of Bambi’s mother affected me very deeply and I’m absolutely sure that I added my own blubbering to the general commotion within our car at that point. Parents sometimes like to shield their kids from such raw emotions, but this moment of tragedy is a big part of one of my most powerful early-childhood memories.
Apart from the inevitable tears, Bambi was about to affect me in perhaps an even more powerful way. It was while at the drive-in watching Bambi that I realised that this film was somehow different from other movies. IT WAS DRAWINGS. Moving and talking and seeming to be alive. And then seeming to be killed. Drawings making me feel both happy, and then sad.
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The tears of anguish were barely even dry on my face before I started to wonder how this could be so. I could not grasp how it was possible for these drawings to be alive. It was a singular moment — I was both pulled into and popped out of the movie at the same time. Mum and Dad now had their hands full. Crying baby on the one hand and on the other, a 5-year-old who needed some answers. My parents did their best to explain the rudiments of the animation process, but it seemed completely unbelievable.
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I wasn’t apt to take their explanations at face value either. I hadn’t forgotten them trying to dupe me with that Santa Claus nonsense, which I never believed for a moment, much to the great disappointment of Mum. You never knew what hokum grown-ups were going to pull next.
Dad took me to the back of the drive-in behind our car where, in the same building as the snack bar, there was a window allowing patrons to peek into the projection booth. This is one of those memories that is still vivid inside my head but I’m not sure if it actually happened at that moment in 1969. Instead, perhaps this impression formed over time, as the childhood-me began to understand the filmmaking process. Becoming attached to this real movie-watching memory retroactively? Memory is. not always as immutable as we would like to think.
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However and whenever it got there, the memory I now see projected inside my head is of Dad lifting me up high enough to peer through a tiny observation window on the drive-in projection booth. He attempted to convey the truth of the animation process to me, as I watched a machine spool out a long shiny ribbon that passed through a ray of light. Sending a flickering beam out through the main window and onto the huge screen, in front of which our family car was parked, under the night sky.
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I was told that there were thousands of hand-drawn little pictures on that strip of film and, through a process beyond my ability to comprehend, they looked alive when put through the projector, and light went through them.
Tiny drawings? ALIVE? How? What kind of magic was this? I’d always liked cartoons, but never thought about how they were made. Until this moment watching Bambi at the drive-in theatre in Hobart.
If I had thought about it at all, I probably thought that ALL films were documentaries and that the events on-screen were really happening (“Reality TV” in today’s parlance) but the realisation that this film was made of drawings made that an impossibility. Animation sounded like some kind of magic to me. Even if it wasn’t “real” magic, then it was clearly the next best thing.
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The sense of wonder from that night stayed with me for quite some time. Certainly long enough to get me into the animation industry, and sustain me throughout my long career. I can still conjure up a ghost of those feelings of childhood awe at the man-made magic show even now, after working at studios all around the world for decades.
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These days of course, people don’t go to drive-in movies. They just go ahead and take their tiny kids to the multiplex, or else watch whatever they like, and whenever they like, at home on groovy big-screen home entertainment centres, with thousands of channels and streaming video to choose from. But I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for drive-in movie theatres, because of formative memories made there, like this one.
First published on www.James-Baker.com
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winxanity-ii · 1 month ago
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IN THE SILENCE
ship: inumaki x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.6k a/n: not me beefing with my sis and making comfort fics as a destressor
★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★
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You couldn't breathe in that dorm room. Not with the way Jiro's words echoed in your mind like a twisted symphony of your worst fears. "You're overreacting, ____. It's not that big of a deal." Her voice had been sharp, cutting through your defenses like a blade.
It left you feeling raw, like your skin had been stripped away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.
So, you did the only thing you could think of—you stormed out, slamming the door behind you with a force that made the walls tremble. You didn't care who heard. Let them.
You needed air, space, something that didn't have her name written all over it.
The night air was cool against your heated skin as you wandered the campus grounds, aimlessly walking with no destination in mind. You just needed to move, to put as much distance between yourself and Jiro as possible.
Each step was a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating fog of doubt she’d wrapped around you.
Was she right? Were you just overreacting?
A part of you—a small, insistent voice at the back of your mind—whispered that maybe she was. Maybe you were just being sensitive, blowing things out of proportion. But another part of you, the part that had walked out of that room, screamed that she was wrong. That you were justified in your feelings.
But which one was real?
You stopped walking, realizing you'd reached the fountain in the center of campus. Its gentle splashing was almost hypnotic, the water sparkling under the soft glow of the nearby lampposts.
You took a seat on the edge, your legs feeling like they couldn't support you anymore.
For a moment, you just sat there, staring into the rippling water, trying to find some sort of clarity in the chaos of your thoughts.
A deep sigh escaped your lips, followed by a soft sniffle. You quickly wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, frustrated that you were even crying in the first place. "Why am I like this?" you muttered to yourself, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a question you'd asked yourself a thousand times before, and you still didn’t have an answer.
You tilted your head back, looking up at the sky. The night was clear, stars scattered across the inky blackness like diamonds. It was beautiful, but it didn’t bring you the peace you were hoping for.
Instead, it made you feel small, insignificant. Like your problems were nothing compared to the vastness of the universe. But that didn't make them hurt any less.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice when someone sat down next to you. It was only when you felt the slight shift in the bench that you glanced over, startled.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice when someone sat down next to you. It was only when you felt the slight shift in the bench that you glanced over, startled.
A young man was sitting beside you, his presence somehow calm, almost comforting. He wore black sweats and a matching hoodie, the hood pushed down to reveal tousled, silver hair that caught the faint light from the lamppost nearby.
His face was partially obscured by a black mask that covered his mouth, but his eyes were clear, a soft lavender shade that seemed to shimmer under the night sky. They were soft, kind, with a hint of curiosity as he looked at you.
You stared at him for a moment, surprised by his sudden appearance. He didn't say anything, just gave you a small nod, as if acknowledging your presence but not wanting to intrude.
You looked away, back at the sky, feeling oddly self-conscious now that someone else was here.
For a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence, the only sound the gentle splashing of the fountain.
You wiped at your eyes again, trying to get rid of any evidence of your tears. The last thing you needed was a stranger seeing you like this. But you could still feel his eyes on you, not judging, just...observing.
It was like he was waiting, but you didn't know for what.
You took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs, and let it out slowly.
The silence between you felt heavy, almost tangible, but not uncomfortable. It was like he was giving you the space you needed, but also letting you know that you weren't alone.
And somehow, that made you feel a little better.
The silence stretched on for several minutes, neither of you saying a word. It was almost surreal, sitting next to a stranger and finding comfort in the quiet presence of someone you didn't know.
But there was something grounding about it, like his calm was seeping into your chaos, soothing the turmoil you'd been drowning in all evening.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He hadn't moved, just sat there, looking up at the sky as if he were admiring the stars.
There was something about his stillness that made you feel like it was okay to just be. To not have to put on a brave face or force yourself to keep it together.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, he turned towards you. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sticky note pad and a pen. You watched as he quickly scribbled something down, his handwriting neat and precise, before peeling the note off and holding it out to you.
You hesitated for a moment before taking it, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest second. Your eyes skimmed over the words, and you felt something inside you twist painfully.
You okay?
It was such a simple question, but it shattered the fragile control you’d been holding onto. You stared at the note, the tears you’d fought so hard to keep at bay filling your eyes once more. You shook your head, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you all over again.
"No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Then, before you knew it, the words started pouring out of you in a rush, as if his silent support had unlocked something inside you. "I don't know. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm just… crazy or something."
You glanced at him, but he just looked back, his eyes soft, urging you to continue. So you did.
"In the past, I've always been told I was blunt or cold, you know? Like I didn't care about anyone's feelings. And yeah, I was like that, but I didn't know any better. I thought being honest meant being straightforward, even if it hurt people." You took a shaky breath, the words spilling out faster now, almost tripping over themselves. "But then I realized, I realized that my actions, my words—they affect people. So I worked on it. I tried to change, to be more empathetic, more understanding. And it was hard, but I did it. I really thought I did."
You felt the tears slipping down your cheeks, and you wiped them away angrily, frustrated with yourself for being so emotional. "But now... it's like... like it doesn't even matter. It's like karma or something, having to deal with someone like her. One moment, she's my best friend, and the next, it's like she hates me. She says I'm overreacting, that I'm being too sensitive, and maybe I am. But it just… it hurts, you know?"
You looked away, staring at the fountain again, the words still tumbling out. "It's like I can't win. No matter what I do, it's not enough. I try to be better, to do better, but it's like she's always there to remind me that I'm not. And I know she's my friend, but it feels like I'm dorming with a stranger. Someone who knows exactly how to push my buttons and make me feel like I'm the one who's messed up. Maybe I am messed up."
Your shoulders shook as you let out a bitter laugh, more tears streaming down your face. You didn't even try to stop them this time. "Maybe she's right, and I'm just crazy, just some messed-up person who doesn't deserve to be happy. I don't know."
You ran a hand through your hair, your fingers trembling as you tried to catch your breath. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling," you muttered, wiping at your eyes again. "You don't need to hear all this. You probably think I'm a mess."
But the figure didn't move, didn't look away. He just sat there, his eyes never leaving you, listening to every word like it was the most important thing in the world.
He didn't judge or try to tell you that you were wrong or right. He just let you talk, let you spill out all the things you'd been holding in for so long.
By the time you finished, you felt like you'd run a marathon. But there was also a strange sense of relief, like a million bricks had been lifted off your shoulders.
You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling lighter than you had in weeks, maybe even months.
He reached into his pocket again, pulling out a small packet of tissues. He took one out and handed it to you silently, his eyes still on you, filled with understanding. You took it, your fingers brushing against his again, and mumbled a quiet, "Thanks," as you dabbed at your eyes, trying to clean up the mess you’d made of your face.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was back, but it was different now. It wasn't heavy or suffocating. This time it felt warm, almost like a soft blanket wrapping around your shoulders, comforting and safe.
You weren't sure what to say, or if you even needed to say anything at all. The tears had stopped, and with them, some of the ache in your chest had faded too.
You glanced at him again, wanting to express your gratitude, even though words felt inadequate for what he'd just given you—space to be yourself, without judgment.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but sincere. "For… listening. I really needed that."
He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words, then reached for his sticky note pad again. It took him only a moment to jot something down before he peeled the note off and handed it to you.
No big deal.
You let out a small, breathy laugh, the corners of your lips lifting as you read his message. It was so simple, yet it made your heart swell in your chest.
You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were kind, crinkling slightly at the edges as if he were smiling behind his mask. There was a warmth in them that made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.
You stood up, feeling a little steadier on your feet now. The cool night air brushed against your skin, the fountain's gentle splashing filling the silence.
He stood up as well, and you found yourself looking up at him—way up.
You hadn't realized it before, but he was tall, much taller than you. You barely reached under his chin, your nose almost brushing against the soft fabric of his hoodie as you straightened.
Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the small detail, feeling oddly self-conscious about the height difference. You took a step back, clearing your throat, trying to find the right words to say goodbye. But before you could speak, he raised a hand slowly, hesitantly.
You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched his movements with wide eyes.
His hand hovered above your head for a moment, as if he was debating whether or not to go through with it.
Then, ever so gently, he placed his hand on top of your head, his touch light and careful, like he was afraid you might break if he applied too much pressure. He gave your head a soft pat, his fingers brushing against your hair before pulling away.
A harsh blush filled your face, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You stared up at him, stunned, your heart skipping a beat.
Here you were, standing in the middle of the campus at night, unable to see his face, yet feeling like he'd just done something incredibly intimate.
It was such a small gesture, but it felt like it meant everything.
You didn't know what to say, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He just watched you, his eyes crinkling again with that invisible smile. There was a softness to his gaze, a gentleness that made your heart flutter in a way that was both confusing and strangely comforting.
"I—um, thank you," you stammered, your voice barely more than a whisper. You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not when his eyes were so warm, so steady. "For everything."
He just nodded, his shoulders rising and falling in a silent laugh, as if he found your flustered state amusing. He scribbled something quickly on his notepad and held it out to you.
You're welcome.
You took the note, your fingers trembling slightly as you read the words. They were simple, straightforward, but there was something about them that made your chest feel tight, like your heart was too big for your ribs to contain. You swallowed hard, looking up at him again.
"I—well, I should go," you said, your voice awkward and unsure. You took a step back, then another, your eyes still locked on his. He didn't move, just watched you with that same quiet expression, his eyes soft and unreadable. "I—um, goodnight."
You turned, your heart racing as you started to walk away, the cool night air feeling like a welcome balm against your flushed skin. You could still feel the warmth of his hand on your head, the gentle pressure lingering like a ghost of a touch.
You glanced back over your shoulder, unable to help yourself.
He was still standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, watching you with those steady, kind eyes. He lifted a hand in a small wave, his fingers curling in a silent goodbye.
You waved back, a shy smile tugging at your lips, before turning away again and heading towards your dorm.
Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, your heart still fluttering like a trapped bird in your chest. You didn't even know his name, didn't know anything about him, but there was something about him that felt… different.
Like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay. Like maybe you weren't alone after all.
As you reached your dorm, you glanced down at the sticky notes in your hand, the words blurring slightly as tears filled your eyes again. But this time, they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of something else, something warmer, softer.
Hope, maybe.
You smiled, a real smile, as you tucked the notes carefully into your pocket. Maybe tonight had been terrible, but it had ended with something good. Something unexpected.
And as you climbed the stairs to your room, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again.
And that thought, more than anything, made you feel like things might just turn out okay after all.
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A/N: ignore me y'all, im on my period and in my feelings at the moment, just a little senstive. 😭 (p.s tell me why my sister and i made up by the time i finished writing this 💀)
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yummycastiel · 2 years ago
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''the dreamer'' part 2- aemond targaryen x oc
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summary: The famous Strong boys speech Aemond makes puts Daenys on edge. (SERIES MASTERLIST HERE)
a/n: I am overwhelmed by the response i got in the first part of this fic! thank you to everyone who reblogged, commented, and liked! I'm so happy that people are enjoying it! :))) As always enjoy part 2 and let me know if you're down for part 3!
~~~
Daenys.
            Once they had gotten inside the Keep and reunited with their mother, Daemon, Joffrey, and the youngest brothers, Aegon and Viserys, Daenys and her family were led to their rooms, which was on the same floor as Queen Alicent and King Viserys’ quarters. This pleased Rhaenyra, as she recounted how back in her youth Alicent had tried to place her three floors further down, well enough away from her father.
            ‘’Must we go to this dinner mother?’’ Luke whined as the servant girl finished closing the clasps on his dark blue tunic, ‘’It’s not like they’ll take offence to not seeing us, given they did not even come to greet us when we arrived.’’ Daenys also was not jumping at the chance to go and have supper with the Queen and her children, but her belly was growling unhappily and at this very moment she would brave the Hightowers for a loaf of bread.
            ‘’Yes, we must, your grandfather wants us all together,’’ Rhaenyra explained, clasping her hands together and shared a look with Daemon, ‘’We’re here to spend time with him, remember?’’ Luke grumbled something and turned away to speak to Baela and Rhaena, who had arrived shortly after they had with Rhaenys. Daenys did feel a creeping feeling of apprehension at the thought of seeing Aemond at dinner, but she brushed it off, figuring that her uncle just had that effect on people.
            When the whole family, save the youngest children, had arrived at the King’s personal dining hall, they were greeted by his children and the Queen, who gave them a less than warm welcome. Daenys entered the hall, once again overcome with a self-conscious feeling that she was being watched. She scanned the room to see Aemond sitting down, leaning back with a goblet of wine in his hand. When their eyes met, he raised his glass to her ever so slightly. Daenys busied herself by smoothing out her dress and approached her grandfather, who looked ill as ever. King Viserys donned a golden mask on the right side of his face, no doubt to hide the fact that it had withered away due to the sickness that was taking him.
            ‘’Your Grace.’’ Daenys greeted her grandsire, who was sat between Queen Alicent and Rhaenyra. She curtsied, but kept her eyes on the King’s face, not wanting to seem afraid of his appearance. Viserys smiled at her and held his hands out to her.
            ‘’Come here child, let me get a good look at you.’’ He requested as he managed a smile. Daenys obliged and let him take her hands in his own. They felt shaky and cold, the bones in his hands covered by a fragile barrier of paper-thin skin. ‘’How you’ve grown Daenys. Daenys the Dreamer.’’ Daenys smiled fondly at Viserys.
            ‘’Unfortunately, I don’t tend to dream very much grandfather, but I do think I give my mother nightmares.’’ She jested, rubbing Viserys’s hands without even noticing, as if wanting to offer them some warmth. Viserys erupted in laughter and Rhaenyra and Daemon chuckled. Queen Alicent stared at her husband, as if hearing him laugh was something foreign. Daenys smiled as she shared in Viserys’s laughter.
            ‘’It’s for the best I should say, that you don’t dream,’’ Viserys replied after sobering up, ‘’They don’t bring much happiness little one.’’ Daenys blinked, a little surprised at his comment, but she bowed her head and took to her seat at Daemon’s gesture. She was sat between Luke and Rhaena, at one end of the table. As the King ordered for music to be played, Daenys looked around to study who was there. Aegon was sitting next to Helaena, and Daenys noticed that he was leering at her, a smug little smile on his face. Daenys grimaced, remembering how awful he was to everyone as children. Aemond was sat across from her, at the far end of the long table. His seat was turned to the side, as if he wasn’t paying attention much to the discussion at the table as the feast begun, but he was still looking at her, much to Daenys’ displeasure. This time she gave him a little eyebrow raise, as if to silently question him as to why he was staring. Aemond took a sip from his cup, covering a little smile that appeared on his face.
Aemond.
            As the music filled the room with the sounds of ballads and songs, Aemond found that he was unable to look away from Daenys. From when she arrived up until she sat down, his eye never left her. Aemond cursed himself inwardly when he saw her, his breath ceasing for a moment. She was dressed in a black dress with red stitching another Targaryen sigil on her chest. Her brown hair fell in waves on her bare shoulders, and Aemond had to force his gaze away from her exposed skin. His fist that was on the table tightened its grip on his cup. Daenys was, unfortunately for him, a vision. He didn’t care if he was being obvious, he kept his gaze on her and watched as she made his father laugh, for the first time in forever. It was perhaps even the first time Aemond had seen his father laugh since he could remember.
            The beginning of the dinner consisted of Aemond stealing looks at his niece from across the table. All he could do was watch. Daenys was talking and joking with her family, reminding him of the carefree and humorous child she had been. The girl was full of life, the air around her itself even seemed to beam brighter, and Aemond felt drawn to it, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He wanted that attention; he wanted her to laugh with him. The prince looked down at his calloused hands, worn from years of wielding a sword. He knew what he was. He was dark, dangerous, and serious. Since around the time Daenys left King’s Landing, he had not bonded with another person like her, and so he remained content with being alone. Granted, he had garnered a reputation, one of fear, mystery, and respect, as riding the biggest dragon in the world tended to do that. Not to mention his brother, Aegon, made it quite easy to look superior.
            Daenys, from what Aemond was gathering, would be seen more as the livelier and brighter one of the family. She practically glowed in that room, putting everyone else to shame in Aemond’s eyes. What dampened his heart was the fact that she most definitely hated him. Her bitch mother and bastard brothers had most likely poisoned her mind to make him to look like some sort of villain. He didn’t stand a chance, and he knew it. Aemond’s face remained stony and serious as ever, in his mind he had decided that there was no point in looking at Daenys anymore and that his budding feelings were for naught.
Daenys.
            King Viserys made a speech. Rhaenyra had made a speech. Jace had made a speech. Daenys was able to refill her plate three times with all the talking. While she recognized the importance of her mother’s speech, she really didn’t see why Jace had to speak as well, as he clearly had irked Aegon and Aemond. While Queen Alicent seemed to soften to Rhaenyra’s words, the two princes seemed unimpressed. Her brown eyes flitted nervously between the brothers, but she kept her mouth shut. Now, she watched as Jace offered Halaena a dance, which seemed to make the girl ecstatic. Daenys smiled as she watched them, heart soaring at how sweet her brother was. Aegon on the other hand, seemed a little bothered, and Aemond’s face was as blank and serious as ever. The man was unreadable, but Daenys could somehow tell that he was fuming.
            As the King was carted away by his guards, his pain clearly too much, Daenys tried to focus on her food. It was hard because Luke was giggling at something across the table. The girl gave her brother a look, but then turned her gaze to see what he was laughing at. The servers had placed a giant roast pig right in front of Aemond. Daenys tensed, remembering how much the prince hated pigs, ever since that one ridiculous prank that Aegon and her brothers had played on him when he was little. Daenys remembered how upset he had been. Now, Aemond’s head slowly turned to look at Luke and when he put two and two together, the man slammed his fist on the table, startling everyone around them. Daenys braced herself, staring at him as he stood up to his full height. Despite the current hostile environment, Daenys couldn’t help but admire how he commanded a room with his presence and…broad shoulders.
            ‘’A final tribute,’’ he began in a soft yet threatening voice as he raised is glass, ‘’To the health of my nephews.’’ Every eye in the room was staring at him, taking him in, just waiting for what he was going to say next. Jace and Helaena had stopped dancing. ‘’Jace, Luke, Joffrey’’ The silver-haired prince paused, ‘’Each of them handsome, wise…strong.’’ There it was. Aemond blinked a couple times before the last word, his good eye staring at Luke. The Queen looked mortified.
            ‘’Aemond-‘’ Alicent began, but Aemond cut her off as if she hadn’t even spoken.
            ‘’Come!’’ He started, ‘’let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.’’ Aegon raised his glass along with his brother.
            ‘’I dare you to say that again.’’ Jace called out, standing in the middle of the room with his fists clenched. Daenys wanted to shake him and tell him to calm down. He always did have a magnificently short temper.
‘’Why?’’ Aemond questioned in a fake innocent tone, ‘’It was only a compliment.’’ He now turned to fully face Jace. ‘’do you not think yourself strong?’’ Everything then happened in the span of three seconds. Luke stood up to defend his brother, slamming his hands on the table in fury. Jace swung at Aemond, hitting him square in the jaw and the prince’s head swung in the other direction. Aegon slammed Luke against the table, holding him down.
            ‘’Enough is enough!’’ Alicent cried as Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Otto Hightower sprang to their feet. Daenys would not sit idly by as she watched Aegon hold her brother down, and she grabbed a vase from the table and smashed it against Aegon’s head, causing him to fall to the floor, snarling in agony. Daenys couldn’t help but smile as she watched Aegon lay in pain on the floor, clutching his head. After the hit, Aemond did not seem too bothered as Jace advanced on him again, and with one long arm he shoved Daenys’ brother to the ground, his strength overpowering the Velaryon. Daenys grabbed another vase and took a step towards Aemond, not afraid to give him the same treatment she gave to Aegon, but the hand of a soldier stopped her, dragging her backward as his fellows grabbed her brothers, Baela and Rhaena.
            ‘’Let go of me!’’ Daenys hissed, squirming in the man’s grip. Queen Alicent stormed to her son, her face seething.
            ‘’Why would you say such a thing in front of these people?’’ She whisper-shouted. Aemond had retreated, a satisfied grin on his face, his cup still in hand.
            ‘’I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family mother, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.’’ He finished his sentence with a spit, tearing his arm out of Alicent’s grip. Jace, having managed to slip out of the guard’s grip, lunged at his uncle, but Daemon stepped forward, holding a finger out to stop Jace in his tracks.
            ‘’Wait, wait!’’ He said in a commanding tone. Their stepfather gave Jace a look that made Daenys’ brother step back. Daemon had a way with telling people what to do. Jace backed into Daenys who grabbed his arm, finally free from the guard’s hand.
            ‘’Go to your quarters, all of you, go, now.’’ Rhaenyra commanded, giving all the younger ones a withering look. Daenys didn’t move, her eyes trained on Aemond who was watching her once more, as if trying to tell her something with his eye. The entire time he hadn’t said a single thing about her, despite her being ‘’strong’’ as well. He had left her out of his little speech and Daenys wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Was he sparing her? Had he simply not thought her important enough to mention? Aemond’s gaze on her made her skin feel like it was on fire. His mouth was in a severe straight line, no smirking anymore. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t bring herself to.
            ‘’Daenys.’’ Muttered Jace, and he put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her away to follow the others. Daenys did not resist, but she looked back at Aemond for a moment. He hadn’t moved. What Daenys missed was Rhaenyra and Daemon glancing between her and Prince Aemond, clearly noticing how the man was staring after her.
~~~ taglist: @caspianobsessed, @sad-3-soul, @feiwelinchen, @justbehindmyself, @joniinoj, @xcharlottemikaelsonx, @crispmarshmallow, @sqrlgrrl2, @juneisreading, @fragilemarissa, @hannaeditzs, @faerosewood1723, @dr3amsofreality
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starlightsearches · 2 years ago
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do you think eddie is into facefucking 😳
Teenage Rebellion
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Excellent question, friend! I probably could have answered this with a yes or no, but I wrote something instead. I hope that's okay with you 💖 Posting this at midnight because I'm insatiable.
Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral Reader
Comments, likes and reblogs are my favorites 🥰
Warnings: NSFW (18+ only), Eddie and the reader are both 18+, inexperienced! Eddie, Eddie is self-conscious 🥺, mentions of masturbation (m), oral (m receiving), facefucking, cum swallowing, language and I think that's it!
The old janitor's closet reeks with the heavy smell of cleaning supplies—bottles in neat rows on shelves paradoxically covered in dust. There's no light switch, just a window high on the wall, pale sun pouring in and filtering down through the musty air.
Eddie can hardly see you in the murky darkness, still reeling and off-balanced after being yanked from the hallway.
You smile up at him, wetting your lips with your tongue.
"Hi."
"Oh. Hi,” Eddie whispers back. He’s already a little light-headed—maybe because there's no ventilation in the closet, or maybe just because you're in here with him. You always manage to take his breath away.
He's got no chance of getting it back when you wrap your arms around his waist, fingers slipping underneath his jacket, just brushing his ribs.
“I missed you.”
That's what you say, but your wandering hands speak louder. He’s having trouble making out the sounds.
“Baby,” he says, and he hopes you’ll ignore the nerves in his laugh, “we only saw each other a couple hours ago.”
But he hadn't wanted to say good bye then, either. Pulling the passenger door to his van shut before you could jump out, he'd kissed you good bye again, and again, and again, covered your face in pecks until the bell rang and you demanded he let you go, fighting your own delight. School was hellish; being alone with you was the closest he'd ever get to the opposite.
You pout a little, tracing you finger down front of his chest, right over the devil face on the front of his hellfire shirt. “So you didn’t miss me?”
He inches closer, resting a shaking hand at your waist. Touching you still feels like a fever dream, no matter how many times he's done it. “I didn’t say that.”
Your head thumps lightly against the door when he kisses you, cupping your jaw, taking in the smell of your skin, admiring how soft you could be as your hands grip the front of his jacket.
Eddie shivers, his nerves directly attuned to your touch—your wet spit on his skin, your neck warming the metal of his rings.
You part from him for just a moment, exhaling a shaky breath, and his legs go numb at the sound of it.
"Don't you," —god, you have to feel him shaking—a firework with a lit fuse, and he's not sure what will happen when he finally goes off— "shouldn't you be in class?"
He'd hoped talking might slow you down, but no dice. He feels your lips at his neck.
"Study hall," you whisper, your tongue just barely peeking out, drawn along the column of his throat, "you?"
"English. We were—fuck—we were talking about, uh, sonnets."
There's the scrape of your teeth, your tongue, and Eddie should probably be embarrassed at the sound he makes, a sound anybody on the other side of the flimsy door could hear if they happened to be walking by. You lean back, admiring your work—the red-purple mark that must be blooming against his pale skin. He'd never be able to hide it, on the front of his neck, right below his jaw.
Not that he'd ever want to.
You've got your fingers curling in his hair, pulling him close again, a puppet on strings. "Don't worry about it. I'll fill you in later."
He could not give less of a shit about sonnets right now, not when you're on him, feverish and wild, tasting him and touching him and wanting him.
And it's never been like this before. He'd always thought those kisses during study sessions (filled with waaaay too much studying, in his opinion) were just your way of rebelling—a little taste of danger. You'd ride to school in his car, listen to music loud enough to shake the windows, kiss him whenever he asked a question too stupid for you to answer. Teenage rebellion at it's finest.
That's not what this is, though—not with your fingers fumbling at his belt.
"Woah," he steps back on reflex and then regrets it immediately. It gives you just enough room to slide to your knees. "Uh, what're you doing?"
You're looking so fucking pretty, goddamn it. Smiling up at him, light glinting in your eyes as you slip the belt from the buckle, you start working on the button of his pants. "Are you scared, Eddie?"
"No." Yes. God, the sight of you on your knees, how could he not be fucking scared?
He wasn't trying to be a creep or anything, but he's thought about it before (thought about it a lot). Still, he didn't think it would actually happen. Didn't want to push his luck.
Turns out he's got more luck in him than he thought.
You're pulling at his zipper, and he's doing everything he can to stay standing, eyes on the ceiling, counting his breaths once you've got your fingers on his cock. Your hand is softer than his own. It's nothing compared to the softness of your mouth.
"Holy shit."
You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, little rivulets of spit rolling down his shaft, and he's got both hands planted against the door—so he can stay standing, so he can watch. Just in case it's just a dream—or worse—in case it never happens again.
You lean off him, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand before you dribble some spit into your palm—stroking him up and down, up and down, watching him with mischief in your eyes. His hands curl into fists at the feel of it, rings denting the cheap wood of the door.
"Does that feel good?"
"Fuck, yeah. It feels good, feels really—"
Whatever he was going to say next is lost, obscured in the moan he lets loose when you run your tongue over the head, sinking over him again until your hand brushes against your lips.
He tastes blood, teeth sinking into his knuckles as he tries to keep himself quiet. He'd never have guessed it would feel this good, his hips shifting forward of their own accord, chasing that intoxicating sensation.
You make a choking sound at the back of your throat, and he feels the pressure around the tip of his dick, knees ready to buckle.
"Shit, shit—I'm sorry," Eddie's pushing you off him, a hand on your shoulder, trying not to think about the shining spit covering your mouth, little strings of it still connected to his cock.
He should have told you the truth, even if you would have walked away and never talked to him again, even if you'd laugh. He's got no idea what he's doing, and he'd never thought you could mess shit up being on the receiving end of a blowjob, but hey—you learn something new every day.
You don't go anywhere, though. You stay on your knees, reach out to him even, your fingers tracing up the inside of his thigh.
"You're not gonna hurt me, Eddie," you tell him, guiding his hand from your shoulder, leading him over your neck, only stopping when he's cupping the back of your head in his splayed palm.
You open your mouth, eyes wide and on him, sinking his cock back into the exquisite heat of your mouth.
Your fingers wrap around the back of his knee—bracing yourself—but you don't move this time, eyes wide and on him.
Waiting for him to make a move.
He forces himself to hold back, starting slow as he can manage, focusing on the tug of your lips, the way your cheeks hollow around him and tears well up in your eyes with each measured thrust.
"Fuck, baby." He can't help the snap of his hips, growing more forceful the longer he looks at you. Can't help but fixate on the little gagging noises you start to make, how your fingers squeeze tighter. The way your throat grips at him has got him seeing stars.
He'd always hoped he'd last longer than this. He thought he would last longer than this, considering how often he'd tugged at his cock picturing this exact scenario in all kinds of places, but his imagination was way off and you feel way too fucking good.
Sparks are crawling up his legs, down his spine, converging at a point low and hot in his stomach, and he knows there's no avoiding it anymore.
"Baby, fuck, I'm gonna— I dunno where you want me to—"
Probably something he should have asked before hand—considering how busy your mouth is—but you get your point across clear enough, nails digging into the backs of his thighs, pulling him deep into your throat.
Eddie spills inside you—going off like a bomb—his whole body shaking as pumps you full of load after load. He didn't even know he had that much cum inside him, but you swallow it all down, pulling off his dick with a wet pop.
"Jesus H. Christ."
He's breathing like he ran a goddamn marathon, feeling like he just came back from war. He steadies himself against the shelves, rattling the bottles with how much he shakes as he tucks himself back into his jeans. The feeling of your spit and his cum smearing across his hand has him half-hard all over again.
You climb back to your feet, smiling at him so wide, mouth raw and shining when you pull him in for another kiss, and he grips you by the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He'll never get tired of tasting you.
You're playing with the chain at his neck, arms wrapped around him as you lean back, wearing a big smile like you're the one who just got the soul sucked out of them. He knows he's gotta have a goofy-ass grin of his own right now, but he can't seem to care.
"You should probably get back to class," you whisper; he's got no idea what you're talking about, until he can glance away from you long enough to remember where he is.
"Right . . . sonnets."
He catches up quickly enough, but makes no move to leave, stroking a hand over your cheek. He'd fail out of a thousand classes if it meant he could spend more time with you.
"We could meet up tonight, maybe? After hellfire? I'll quiz you on everything you learned."
He nods in agreement, still grinning as you slip out of his arms, sneaking through a crack in the door.
No way in hell were you getting any studying done tonight.
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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago
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best laid plans, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: It’s the middle of the night. You’re asleep next to your model boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, who is jacking off while touching your tits. Wait. Hold on a second. What? (He is still your model boyfriend though, even after all that.)
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; actually low-key crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m-masturbation, handjob (while sucking on JK’s balls, lucky guy), tiny bit of nipple play and pussy slapping, edging, cowgirl, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts and i did make a Dynamite lyric reference with JK’s dick and you can’t stop me
yes, the title is a pun, channeling my inner seokjinnie it’s what you think it is and it’s also not
Your dreams were always vivid and intense. 
Was it normal to have movie-level, hyperdetailed, sometimes not even involving you or anyone you knew (at least consciously), insane storyline dreams on a constant basis (without medication causing them)? You know, maybe not. You should get that checked out. But not today, because this is not the story about that (you really should get that checked out).
This is the story about you dreaming about your boyfriend jacking off next to asleep you and then realizing it was not a dream. 
At first you were like, man, that sure sounds like Jeon Jungkook breathing hard. Was he working out? Why are you having dreams about Jungkook working out? That's literally the most pointless, mundane dream you could ever have. Also, you weren't seeing anything, just blackness. What was the damn point of this dream you couldn't even look at him?
(To be honest, that’s very rude of you, brain.)
Jungkook always asked you to work out at home with him but, one, he was annoying as fuck to work out with because all he did was stare at you ("oh yeah, my bad for thinking you're sexy, holy shit, what a crime to think my girlfriend and future wife is hot!"); two, you literally had zero motivation to work out (not lazy, just, you know, didn't give a shit and Jungkook called that your great flaw of being his perfect girlfriend – but he loved all your soft bits so he was sending you mixed messages, tsk tsk); and finally, three, it always led up to fucking, so why go through all that trouble hyping yourself up in your leggings and sports bra, only to spend five minutes in them and forty-five doing a whole different kind of workout that didn't require clothes?
Exactly. 
Just skip that shit and get to the naked part. 
Oh, right, back to the whole deep-breathing Jungkook and you seeing darkness thing. 
Sometimes you had dreams with only sound and very little visual. It was disorienting, giving you the feeling of being trapped in a maze with no way out (dream analysts would be all over that shit) and once the images returned, you were usually naked (psychologists would have a field day with that). But this time, you were unmoving. Listening to tense inhale, drawn-out exhale, over and over, and you only recognized it as Jungkook because he did that thing where he sucked on his teeth a little, making that almost inaudible hiss noise. 
You felt heavy, tired, sluggish, as if you were dragging yourself through mud, in between the brink of conscious and subconscious, in that brief moment where you could control the dream but not your body, that little pocket of utopia. You searched for Jungkook in the darkness, curious to find him, and you couldn't, but he seemed to be beside you, to your right, where he usually was when you slept. Next to you, sometimes snoring so you'd have to smack him in the chest and he'd snort and stop (for a hot second, then you'd roll him to his side so at least he wouldn't be snoring in your ear). His pectoral muscles were bigger lately (you hated working out but you sure as hell didn't hate Jungkook working out) and the slapping sound was pretty satisfying now, palm to hard muscle. 
Kind of like the sound right now. 
Wait. 
You weren't slapping Jungkook's pecs.
You furrowed your brows. Huh? Why were you hearing that soft smacking sound over and over, Jungkook's low hiss and then your name in a deep hazy whisper and why was your front cold? You usually slept with only panties, no bra, but you weren't usually cold up top – that's what the linen duvet was for (you paid way too much for that, but you saw it on Instagram and, hey, it's your money, go off) and, to be honest, you used to be a cute pajamas person but, ever since you started living with Jungkook, he wanted you to wear as much as he did when he slept (read: literally only his boxer briefs). Lots of begging (and him being on his knees for you) later, and now it was your habit to strip before sleeping.
Anyway, back to being cold. 
You scrunched up your face and listened to the labored breathing in your right, a hand drifting on your stomach, tracing your bellybutton, moving up, light, delicate touches, the sound of skin on skin. A gentle fingertip brushed your nipple. 
You cracked your eyes open.
There was a tiny bit of light from your computer, the RGB keyboard casting a faint rainbow. You shifted your eyes to your right.
Jungkook's left arm was in an awkward position, softly caressing your nipple as he violently pumped his dick. 
On the bed. 
Underwear gone.
On the floor? Probably. 
He looked pretty damn hard. (Nice.) 
Your eyes floated to his face and his eyes were closed, mouth open, trying not to make any noise, gasping your name. Shapely jaw, soft cheeks, dark lashes, ash blond hair framing his handsome features, so beautiful it was unreal. His head turned towards you and his dark brown eyes slowly opened, purring your name lovingly. 
"Yeah, Jungkook?"
You saw the single blissful second it took for Jungkook's brain to catch up. 
Then he choked.
On air and his dick by squeezing it far too hard in complete and utter shock. 
"HOLY FUCK!"
He yanked his hand back, off your chest (feels bad man) and released his cock, causing it to bounce a little in the air (kind of sexy, not gonna lie), both of them shooting up to cover his rapidly reddening cheeks, one tattooed, one not, his inked right arm tense and his hand glistening with points of pre-cum.
You blinked innocently at him. 
"Oh, shit, fuck, I'm so sorry, um, l–listen," he sputtered, dick still sticking straight up, completely oblivious to Jungkook's embarrassment (ignorance is bliss). "I... I have a good reason, I s-swear."
You rolled onto your side and squished your tits together. Jungkook's brain seemed to implode a little, staring at your squashed breasts and hard nipples like it was the first time (even though you knew he literally sees them at least once a day).
"You're horny?" 
Your voice cracked a little from sleep and you coughed to clear your throat (not sexy, but such is life). 
Jungkook's shaking pupils were too busy staring at your titties. "Y-Yeah, I just woke up randomly horny as fuck, but I know how much you hate having your sleep disturbed so I was just going to edge myself a little... well, maybe finish…"
"You masturbating while touching my tits is not going to disturb me?"
"I... I've done it before..."
???????
???????
"Uh..."
"I don't touch you very much!" Jungkook blurted, grabbing your hands. "P-Please don't be mad! I only touch you a little and always very carefully! I never try to take advantage, I'm just horny, please, please, please don't be mad!"
He grabbed you by the shoulders and hugged you tightly. You grimaced, not because of the hug (Jungkook’s hugs were top tier), but because his hard dick jammed right into your thigh and smeared a giant line of pre-cum onto your skin (a little cold and not nearly as sexy as internet smut stories make it out to be, but maybe that was because you literally woke up to Jungkook jacking off without giving you so much as an invitation, rude). You gasped and retreated a little, but that made Jungkook try to grab you tighter and his cock bent upwards and jabbed you in the lower belly. 
Still leaking everywhere, by the way. 
"Oh shit–"
"Look here Excalibur, I'm not the stone waiting for the king," you winced, swiping your hand across your skin and wiping it on the side of his ass (hey, it's free real estate). Jungkook yelped, letting go of you. 
"Hey!"
"If you're horny, let's fuck, not joust. I don't have the proper equipment for that and I'm not an undercover Lancelot, as dope as that would be."
"I should be turned off by now," Jungkook muttered under his breath (probably cursing your poorly timed King Arthur jokes – you did have a tendency to wear your mind on your sleeve). "But I'm not because, fuck, look at this body..."
His hands were already running all over your skin and, if there was one thing Jungkook had an extra zest for, it was fucking you – all the time, twenty-four seven, rest in peace responsibilities if you ever decided to become a nudist, but thankfully you had self-control (not when it came to terrible jokes at inappropriate times though, that was your vice). However, sleepy you had less self-control and let him do whatever he wanted, running his fingers all over your chest, making you shiver and slide closer to him, rubbing your thigh against his length and he sucked in a breath, whispering your name hotly against your cheek.
"S-Stop, I'm going to get horny..."
"You're already horny," you hummed into his chin, running your fingers through his blond hair, closing your eyes again, listening to his soft moan against your cheek (he always sounded so good, so fucking sexy, it was sinful), your left hand sliding down between you both. his palms pressed into your breasts, squeezing them roughly as you cupped your hand around his length and balls (Jungkook was really warm and your hands were kind of cold, this turned out to be a win-win situation, sweet). You wound your fingers around his length with two fingers hooked around his balls, bouncing them lightly as you rubbed his velvety skin, sighing against his neck.
"Pog."
"Do not Twitch chat talk to my dick," Jungkook muttered. "Also, what kind of weak-ass handjob is this, are you just warming your cold-as-fuck fingers–" (well, shit) "–oh, fuck!"
You gripped his cock with your left hand and buried your fingers in his hair, tongue between your lips as you roughly stroked his length, making Jungkook squirm and gasp above you, jerking back. You kept your hold on him, tighter, feeling him swell and get harder, grinning, your eyes still closed, working him fast and firm.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jungkook swore repeatedly, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers (damn, he was making you work to keep this smirk on your face, but it was worth), tendrils of pleasure snaking through you. You bit the side of your lip, increasing your pace, squeezing just under the head the way he liked, pre-cum pooling around the pocket of your index finger and thumb, adding lubrication.
"Stop, s-stop, I'm gonna e-explode," Jungkook moaned, planting his hands onto your tits and sinking his fingers in the softness once more (hello? where's the titty love, this ain't all about you, Jungkook). 
"I like dynamite," was you answer, cracking one eye open. "Light it up." 
Jungkook growled in his throat, glaring at you. "I swear to God, if you weren't so fucking hot, I'd be so fucking limp right no–aah, d-don't, oh fuuuck, please..."
You slid down the bed, switching hands, attaching your mouth to his balls (he was probably grateful for that, can't talk with a mouthful of nuts, sad) and put your breasts on his thigh, rubbing your nipples all over his hard muscle as you sucked, starting off slow, then faster and faster, one to the other, tongue all over, Jungkook loudly rambling nonsense above you (you weren't paying attention, you had a dick to jack off and some balls to rearrange with your masterful tongue) until Jungkook squealed at your firm grip on the head, cutting off his orgasm once again.
"Stop edging me," he hissed angrily above you.
You blew a raspberry on his nuts.
"A-ah, fuuuuuuuuck!"
Oh, that turned out to be more pleasurable than either you or Jungkook imagined, because his eyes were gigantic and his hips were furiously humping your hand, but you weren't holding him tight enough for him to cum. You raised your eyebrows at him and Jungkook gave you the most displeased expression he could muster (he looked cute as fuck, a complete fail), ash blond strands clinging to his forehead, nose scrunched up.
"That was for jacking off without me," you tutted.
"You would have gotten pissed if I woke you up to fuck," he pouted.
"I need beauty sleep to be beautiful."
"I hear facials actually help quite a lot."
You burst out laughing and Jungkook followed suit, his rich, full, almost wheezing laugh, until he realized you had swiped a condom from the nightstand (yup, they were casually in a little moon-shaped dish by the bed next to the chap stick and phone charger, says a lot about you two), fitted it on him, and then you sat on his dick.
"W-Wait – oooooooh, fuck!"
You waited a second for your body to adjust, forcefully stretched out by his thick girth, but it wasn't that bad when you were controlling your muscles and expecting it, so you started rocking your hips after the second, sighing in satisfaction. Jungkook's eyes rolled back into his head, his long fingers bunching up on his chest, raising his ass to get deeper with every slap of hips to hips, your body talking to his, heat rising through you, branching out your spine and to your limbs, the best kind of workout (your only workout, be honest here), clenching your core, making Jungkook snap his head back in panic, shaking his head furiously.
"I'm g-gonna cum if you keep going l-like that..."
You leaned down, brushing his hands away and spreading your fingers over his pecs, running your nails over his hard nipples. Jungkook whimpered, chewing on his lip, you turning the tempo from a fast one to a longer, slower, more complete stroke from head to base, soft ass smacking his soft balls. He looked up at you, moaning softly, pupils blown wide, rainbow shadows over his face (damn, he's pretty, eleven out of ten, for sure), gasping your name, his hands finding your forearms and caressing them, eyelashes fluttering.
"O-oh, fuck, p-please... faster... wanna cum... you're so fucking sexy... ah, fuck, wanna cum for you..."
No one could say no to that, especially not you.
You slid your arms down to the bed, right beside his head, and increased the force, intensifying it all, Jungkook's fingers flying up and holding onto your nipples, the sheer wildness of your own pace tugging and pulling on them, your breathing deepening, panting hard, wispy and hot, his name on your lips, pleasure all over, passionately fucking him into the bed, and him jutting his hips back into your soaked walls, throbbing against the tightness, so hot, fire coursing through you, your juices soaking his crotch and balls.
“Jungkook, oh, fuck, yes...”
You squeezed him hard and Jungkook thrust into you with a groan, all hardness and thickness violently burying itself into your overwhelming heat and you moaned lustfully, pussy shuddering around his wonderful cock, feeling it shiver repeatedly, his orgasm filling up the condom so much that you felt the latex stretch inside you, jarring jerks with each of Jungkook's soft cries, his head shoved into the pillows, blond hair fanning out like a halo and practically wearing out your name with how many times he was chanting it.
You reached and held down the condom as you unsheathed (the beast), collapsing against the bed and laying down, wheezing a little, greatly satisfied at your work.
"Boom."
You weakly reached up and mimed a firework with one hand.
"Like dynamite."
"Oh, my fucking God," Jungkook muttered, peeling off the condom and immediately snatching the towel next to the bed (also says a lot about you two) and another condom, yanking off the other one (trash can next to the bed already, again says – never mind, you get it) and cleaning himself off before putting on the new one. "On your back."
You rolled on your back, snickering. "Three parts dynamite, with a nitroglycerin cap–"
Jungkook clapped a hand on your mouth and it smelled a whole lot like his cum. "This is not the time to be quoting the Addams Family, you animal."
You nuzzled out of it, grinning. "I'm just saying I want an orgasm equivalent to blowing up a small house."
"Oh, you'll get it," Jungkook growled, yanking your hips to the center of the bed, pushing your legs up to your chest, almost bending you in half. "You ready?"
You bit your lip, still grinning. "Of course."
One hand left your leg and you were confused for a split second.
The next you were gasping, Jungkook rapidly smacking his hand into your clit and pussy, not hard, but constant, swift smacks that got you wetter and wetter, quivering and struggling for breath.
"J-Jungkook, oh f-fuck, Jungkook..." you whined, fingers digging into the sheets, twisting them, bouncing your hips towards him. He inhaled sharply, fitting his finger onto your clit and raising himself.
"W-wait – oh fuck!"
Jungkook chuckled and thrust into your wet warmth, rubbing your clit at the same time. Your body squirmed, trying to alleviate the sudden high rush of pleasure, but Jungkook was stronger (was this the reason he worked out? no complaints here), his free hand pressing your leg down into your chest, your other leg crammed against his shoulder, his hand snaking in between and stimulating your clit, not having to move because you were moaning helplessly, rutting against him repeatedly, pulsating all around him, so good, so good, throbs of desire against his callused fingertip, eyes rolling back. Hard cock, engorged clit worked into a frenzy, your own hips fucking him back so hard that Jungkook was moaning with you, your name tumbling out from those pink lips.
"Cum for me, fuck, you sound and look so sexy, come on, come on..."
You would have praise for him too if you could breathe, but you couldn't, pleasure so overwhelming that your eyes closed, getting there, getting so close, and Jungkook he kept going until you wailed his name, back arcing, your tits hitting your thighs, forearms taut and straining, lower body lurching towards him and leaking out slick juices all over his crotch and yours, so much so that his finger slipped and his nail nicked your clit, turning your moan into a howl of ecstasy.
"Oh, shit, are you ok–"
You grabbed his hips, ignoring whatever the fuck he was saying, and slammed him down into your pussy, making Jungkook lose his balance and put his hands on the bed, yelping, and you hissing in his face, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, Jungkook, give me your cock, and Jungkook was saying something but your body gave no fucks, ears mysteriously broken at that specific moment, raising your hips to meet his as he sank down, Jungkook's face scrunching up and his pleas finally reaching your ears.
"H-Hold on, I want to last, stop, stop, stop..."
"Who cares about that, I need dick," was your very impatient response, but Jungkook grabbed your thighs and pinned you down, stopping you and him from moving, you whining and clenching around him.
"This is not p–"
Jungkook immediately fitted his hand over your mouth, narrowing his eyes at you. "No. Bad. Shush."
(How did he know you were going to say 'this is not poggers'?)
You wiggled your ass and Jungkook growled, pulling out and slamming back in, not fast, but powerful, cock getting harder and harder with your whines and cries behind his palm.
"This is what you need," he panted, deep and gravelly, one hand on the bed and one on your mouth, fucking you so hard that your ass was bouncing on the bed, creating a wet spot on the sheets with how drenched you were for Jungkook's lust-filled, husky voice. "Need me to fuck you silent, fuck, you're so tight and wet, come on, cum for me, cum for me, you sexy, sexy woman..."
Your body was already complying, pleasure wrapping all around, body so hot from the fire within, tongue pressed against his palm, moaning lewdly around his fingers as you came again, and he was so hard, fuck, Jungkook was so fucking hard right after he woke up, always, (a fucking mystery and eighth wonder of the world and your pussy was thoroughly investigating), so deep and so thick, your muscles clutching him tight, sucking him back in. His fingers separated a little, loosening his grip, and you heard your needy whimper mildly muffled by his digits.
"You're so good Jungkook, I love you, fuck, I love your cock, Jungkook..."
You looked up into his eyes, at his long hair hanging around his face, jaw clenched, smirking as he saw your gaze, biting the side of his lips in concentration.
"I love you too," he breathed. "You're the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world."
You clamped around him and Jungkook groaned, eyelids fluttering, grunting as he forcefully thrust into you, your name mixed with a moan as he came again, fully sheathing himself in your quivering, abused heat, warm pulses soothing him and you all over. The sheets stuck to your ass, covered in your sweet-smelling cum.
(Good thing that was on his side of the bed.)
His hand glided up your face, pushing back your hair, shuddering as he rutted into your core a few more times, savoring your tightness.
"You alright, my dude?" you whispered nonchalantly, gasping slightly.
Jungkook cracked one eye open. "Yeah, I'm fucking fantastic, bro."
"Pog-"
Jungkook shoved two fingers into your mouth and you choked a little, pouting around his fingers (you weren't surprised though, you knew it was coming).
"I will whip this dick out and slap you in the face with it."
"That's kinda nasty, but also sounds kinda hot," you gargled around his fingers.
"... You're right. Damn, he's asleep. Shit."
Jungkook pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the towel, frowning as he glanced down.
"Only him and not us, something seems a little inverted here."
Jungkook chuckled and leaned down to kiss you (another reason why he was the perfect partner, still being affectionate, regardless of your loony antics).
"I love you."
-
in which you anger jjk by being annoying - wait, that’s every day well, he still wants to bang you counter point
--
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bowdownbucky · 3 years ago
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𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃 !
part 2 <3
summary: you have an encounter with your best friend’s brother bucky!
pairing: innocent! reader x college! bucky
warnings: cursing, asshole! steve rogers, kissing, drug use, oral (female receiving) fingering.
your heart began to beat heavily, bucky didn’t care that his sister was outside of the door but you started to feel guilty. this was so wrong of you and you didn’t even want to look at yourself. “you better answer her sweethear, she’s not gonna leave.” bucky taunts you, he hand trails your stomach, groping your breasts hard. “uh-im almost finished, i h-had to ohhh.” you slap you hand over your mouth, bucky smirks as he pinches you nipple again.
“what?” rebecca moved closer to the door. “are you okay? i’m coming in.” your eyes widens, you pushed bucky away and slowly cracked the door. “i’m f-fine, the um…pizza! the pizza went down the wrong hatch.” you lie. rebecca’s face screws up. “ew i did not need to know that y/n” you watch as she walks into her room. you close the door, leaning your head back onto the wooden frame.
you closed your eyes and hoped that this was all a dream, that you didn’t actually kiss your best friends brother. you slowly open your eyes only to meet a pair of blue eyes, bucky laughs at you. “went down the wrong hatch? seriously?” you cross your arms in front of your chest. “well what was i supposed to say, sorry can’t talk now i’m making out with your brother. she’s kill me!” you exclaim, you ran your hands down your face in an irrational manner. this was too much for you and bucky didn’t see anything wrong with it.
“would you chill out? here take a hit, it will make you feel better.” bucky offers the small bud once more, you smack it out of his hand. “do you always solve your problems with weed!” you hiss. his eyes were low, he watched as the joint flew onto the ground. you hitch your breath realizing what you did, you see his tongue rub his lower lip. you almost melt at the sight.
“your gonna regret the doll.” he seethes into your ear. he pushes you against the door, you let out a yelp but he covers your mouth. “i know a way you can make it up to me, and you are gonna make it up to me. you know why baby?” you shake your head. “because you don’t want to get on my bad side. i would hate to ruin that innocence of yours.” he whisperers, he hands managed to find their way to you ass, giving it a light squeeze before letting you go.
you move from the door and he exits the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you could barely comprehend what happened let along what he meant by his bad side. you grabbed the nail polish remover and walk back to rebecca room. “finally! you took forever.” you mumble a small sorry and sat on her bed, she lends you her hand and you get to work on her nails, she chose a peach color and wanted you to add a french tip, such a classic.
as you continue painting her nails she squeals making you mess up the curved line. “becca! your nails!” you groan. “i don’t care! why didn’t you tell me?” you tilt your head confusingly. “you and steve hooked up and you didn’t tel me?!” you eyes go wide. “what! no! where did you get that from?” you ask her. she huffs. “no, no, no, no don’t try to act all innocent! you and chris did it and there is evidence on your neck. i rest my case.” you rush off the bed and check your neck, you internally face palm seeing dark purple marks all over your neck.
“i had no idea steve was like that. i guess i have to stop making fun of him now.” she chuckles. “just taking me home my ass! so how was it? was he big? why arent you giving me details.” rebecca whines, kicking her feet in her bed. you ignored her and attempted to kneed out the hickies. as you run the marks you notice bucky staring at you from his room door, you could practically feel his smirk as you watched his reflection go back to his room. you heart raced as you tried to come up with an excuse.
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“it’s no big deal i just burnt myself with a straightener.” you curse to yourself knowing she wouldn’t fall for that. “fine don’t tell me! i’m going to sleep, all this secrecy has made me tired.” rebecca yawns, you hoped she wouldn’t ask you about the hickey again because lying was never your forte. you lie in the large bed, clouded in your own thoughts.
did he like you? was he just messing with you? you had so many assumptions of why he kissed you, what bothered you the most was that you had steve. steve was a jock and you were an outcast, you didn’t know how it would work. even though you and steve hadn’t officially said you were together, you still respected him and wanted to be faithful.
the next morning at school, you kept your head down and didn’t talk to anyone for the most part. no one really seems to notice because you were kind of a nobody. you sat in your forensics class, jotting down notes here and there. you stop writing when you feel a hand creep up your thigh. you turn your head toward steve, he kept a straight face and didn’t acknowledge how unamused you were.
“what are you doing?” you whisper. steve’s hand tries to travel up your skirt but you close your legs firmly. “steve!” he turns to you. “we’re in the middle of class.” you point out. “i’m sorry you know i can’t resist you baby. let me make it up to you but taking you out after homecoming.” you hault yourself as you almost roll your eyes at him. steve could be pushy sometimes especially when it came to losing your virginity to him. you hated that rebecca told him that, now he wouldn’t leave you alone.
“oh really.” you say pretending to be intrigued. “the guys and i bought hotel rooms for tonight and we get to bring a special girl along. and you know since your my favorite girl, i thought we could go together and have fun. go swimming, watch movies, kiss, cuddle, the whole nine and maybe some other stuff if you want.” you remove his hand from your thigh and continue writing notes. “i told you steve i’m not ready for that stuff yet.”
steve huffs, returning back to the lesson. your virginity wasn’t something that you kept sacred but you wanted you first time to be meaningful and steve hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend yet so your answer would always be no if he asked. when school ended you took the bus home, you quickly packed a bag full of makeup, hair supplies and your clothes for homecoming. you checked the time, almost cursing yourself seeing how you were going to be late to rebecca’s house.
you ran as fast as you could to the barnes’ house, you could practically feel the lecture rebecca was going to give you. luckily, you live a few blocks down from the barnes so it wouldn’t be too long of a walk/run. when you arrived at the barnes’ you quickly rang the doorbell. the door opens’ revealing a shirtless bucky who looked like he just got out of the shower. “can i help you?” he smirks looking down on you.
“becca t-told m-me to come, for homecoming.” you gulped attempting to maintain eye contact. his couldn’t help but peek at his glistened abs, you really hoped he didn’t catch on to you checking him out. before he could let out a snarky comment rebecca came gritting down the stairs with curlers in her hair. “there you are! y/n your late and we only have three hours to get ready.” you pushed pass bucky and ran up the stairs.
bucky watched at how nervous you were, it was like the fuel he ran on. rebecca closed her door and pushes you onto her vanity chair. “please tell me i have creative freedom tonight!” rebecca pleads with her big blue eyes staring at you. you sigh and nod. she kisses your forehead before beginning your makeup.
after a few hours of prodding, poking, blending, and brushing, rebecca finally finished your makeup and hair. normally you wouldn’t wear makeup because you didn’t know how to do it very well but when you did have it on you truly looked like a princess. “now carefully get into your dress y/n, i swear to god if you mess up an eyelash i will kill you.” she threatens you with her high pitched voice. you removed your jeans and shirt revealing your body, you quickly unzipped the dress as you start to compare your body to rebecca’s. becca was tall and slim while you were a little curvy. you had a small tummy with stretchmarks and she had a flat tummy with a slender waist. your best friend was beautiful and you didn’t want to see mom jealous, so you put up a front and delt with it.
you and rebecca were finally dressed, rebecca looked stunning in her white and pink dress. with the help of rebecca and mrs.barnes, you had pick a pale green dress, the curve of the dress fit you like a glove. the creases on the dress made you look more mature and sexier. you were never use to being sexy so the look on your face made rebecca freak out. “you totally hate it, i knew we should’ve gone with the black dress.” you shake your head. “n-no! it looks…great. thank you becks.” the door opens, your heart quickens when you meet a pair of bright eyes. you noticed bucky had put on a shirt, a part of you were bummed out. “would it kill you to knock! we’re girls who need privacy!” rebecca yells. bucky didn’t give his sister the time of day, his eyes were fixated on you. you felt self conscious as he stared at you long and hard. “mom and dad are going to a banquet dinner in manhattan. they won’t be back until tomorrow.” he tells rebecca. she crossed her arms in confusion. “what? no! i was supposed to have the car tonight. how the hell are we supposed to get to hoco?” rebecca flings her arms up dramatically.
bucky chuckles at his sister’s agony. “wait!” you spoke up as bucky was about to walk away. “c-can y-ou drive us?” you ask quietly. rebecca pulled your arm. “are you crazy? do you know what people say if we shows up to homecoming in a pickup truck?” rebecca vocalized. you couldn’t care less what people had to say, you just wanted and excuse to be see bucky. “becca this is important to you and even you said yourself we had to be there under any circumstances.”
rebecca whines. “fine but you’re dropping us off a block away. i need to retouch my hair, you’ve made me stress away the curls.” you watched as she pushes past bucky, leaving the two of you. you stare at him for a second then turn around, attempting to act uninterested. “you know you should skip this whole homecoming thing altogether.” bucky told you. “what! no, this is important to becca and i promised her i’d be there.” you felt his presence behind you, your back was pressed to his front. “come on doll, you never seemed like the type to be into this stuff anyway. i have a few places we could go instead. wouldn’t that be way more fun.” he was baiting you and hell, you were falling for it very hard. he pushed your hair to the side, laying a kiss on your shoulder. his hand cupped your waist, pulling you as close as you could get.
his pressed more kisses up your neck, he liked testing you, he would make you beg for it if you gave him the chance. “c’mom dollface, don’t you wanna have fun with me?” you almost gave him a nod but refrained. “i should go help rebecca, see you in a few james.” you walk away smiling to yourself, you won this round of the game but best believe, bucky was going to win the next level.
you sat in between bucky and rebecca once more, y’all were currently picking up nathan and steve, your dates for the evening. “you look beautiful beck.” nathan smiles at his girlfriend. rebecca left you in the front with bucky so she could kiss her boyfriend more. steve walks to the front car door but bucky locks him out. “hey man, open the door.” steve groans. the two had seem to have history and now you were going to be in between it. “you know the rules big guy, no douches in the front seat.” bucky smirks. “then why are you sitting up here asshole?” steve sarcastically jokes. rebecca huffed from the back, leaning in the front of the seat. “hey dickheads, we don’t have time for this, have your cat fight after hoco. let’s go!” she demands. steve huffs, taking a seat next to the couple who had no problem with pda.
the ride to the school was pretty silent except for the rock music playing from the radio. you stared out of the window, you could tell bucky was mad because of how tight he was holding the steering wheel, his knuckles were almost white from the tight grip. suddenly, his hand was on your thigh. your eyes widened, you quickly look back to make sure no one saw what was happening. “what are you doing?” you whisper. he doesn’t say anything to you, his hand stays on your thigh and his eyes stay on the road but you could still see the smirk on his face. you tried to push his his hand away but he only moves it higher, almost touching your core. you didn’t want to play games anymore, you were never built for them, you open your legs up more, instead of doing what you wanted, he removed his hand. “alright guys, have a good night.” rebecca and nathan were the first ones to leave the truck. steve exits the truck and stands by youre window. “you coming?” you nod to him. “i’ll be out in a second.” steve walks away from the window, bucky bursts out into laughter.
you throw a punch at his arm but he doesn’t flinch at you. “thats not funny! you’re so mean.” you pout. “no what’s funny is you actually going out with steve.” you eye him in confusion. steve was a good guy, he could be a little pushy but that was just high school boys. “he’s nice and he asked me to go with him. i really don’t see what’s funny bucky.”
“you think just because the guy asked you to a dance, he suddenly changes his player ways. i think you forgot i use to be one of those guys. guys like that don’t fal for girls like you” he pauses. “all he wants is to get you under him and then he’s gonna hop to the next willing participant. god you’re so naive.” you crossed your arms. “you’re such a jerk james! at least he has the decency to not play with my feelings! you’re sister was right! you’re nothing but a-an…asshole.” you yell, leaving the truck with a slam of the door. you surprised yourself at how you went off on him, what did he know about steve. you knew being involved with bucky was bad but now you officially got your sign to stay away from him.
you walked into the school looking for steve. you pushed pass people grinding and dancing on each other. when you find steve you see he’s not alone, he was dancing with lila miller. the two were close together, you turn you back in disgust once you catch the two of them share a very tongue-filled kiss. you sit at the table in annoyance. of course bucky would be right about steve, you hated the fact that he was right.
it took an hour and a half for steve to find you sitting at the table, watching everyone have fun. “hey y/n sorry i was waiting for you but then the guys wanted to go take some shots in the bathroom.” steve leans over to kiss your lips but you dodge him. he looks at you with a confused face. “come on let’s go dance.” he offers you his hand, you play with the fork that was covered in strawberry cake. “i’m good, maybe you should go dance with lila instead.” you say. steve sits back down in the chair, he cleared his throat. “you saw that? i didn’t think you’d be mad, it’s not like we’re together or anything.”
you roll your eyes, pushing your plate away from you. you get up and begin walking to the double doors. as you enters the hallways you ignore steve calling your name. “y/n! can you just wait a minute!” he yells, pulling your arm back causing you to hault. “it was just a dance, i was being nice. you can’t just get mad at me like that, i asked you to be my girlfriend more than once and you said no.”
“because all you want from me is sex which is not ready to give to you. you don’t think i hear about you hooking up with girls in the gym closet. i don’t want to be the next dumb girl who becomes a play thing for you.” you snap on him. “oh come on, sex is just sex, why do you make such a bug deal over this?” he groans.
“it’s not just sex steve, i want it to be meaningful and memorable. i’m sorry if i don’t want to hook up in a sleezy hotel.” you yell, your faces were extremely close. “and you think barnes is gonna make it special? god you’re so naive.” you furrow your brows, what did bucky have to do with this situation. “he has nothing to do with this steve! you asked me to come to this dance with you only for you to dance with another girl and make me look dumb sitting there waiting for you. you can’t take your hotel invite and shove it up your ass.” you walk away from steve, this time he didn’t bother calling your name. after he heard you curse at him he knew you guys were not going to work this out
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you sit on the stairs of the school, tears slowly slid from your eyes. you felt so stupid and used, you knew steve was right but it still hurt. you two weren’t together and if he wanted to take another girl to the hotel he could because you weren’t together. you cringe at how bucky was right about steve, you wanted to be angry at him but he did warn you.
you decide to head home, walking alone the lonesome streets of brooklynn. you were wet due to the copious amount of rain fall, you shiver once more and continue to walk to your house. you noticed a familiar truck driving beside you. bucky rolls down his window. “get in.” he tells you. you continue walking, deciding to ignore the older boy. “come on doll it’s raining. a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking alone.” you couldn’t believe he as trying to flirt with you right now. you were hurt by his words and you were standing your ground, well that was until you heard a loud crack of lightning. you quickly rushed into the truck, slamming the door behind you.
before bucky could speak you began to talk. “just because i’m sitting in here with you, doesn’t mean i forgive you.” you seethed. bucky nods at you. “okay.” you angrily slap his arm. “okay? are you serious right now? how about a sorry for being a jerk!” you yell at him. bucky doesn’t acknowledge you, he starts looking for something in his truck. “god! boys are stupid! all you do is crave sex and hurt girls!” you rant, arms crossed over your chest. once you finished your rant you peek over at bucky holding two blunts. “wanna get high?”
you later found yourself in bucky’s room, high as a kite. you didn’t know what effect he had on you but you gave into his temptation. you sat on his bed, letting him shotgun smoke onto your mouth. “god you’re so hot.” bucky kisses your right shoulder. you softly hum in response, he trails his kisses to your exposed neck. you knew this was wrong on so many level but it felt so right.
“kiss me.” you whisper against him. the drugs in your system had your hormones at an all time high, you needed him to touch you. bucky locks his lips with yours, tongue roaming each other’s mouth in such a sensual way. bucky’s hand roams your body, cupping your breasts then your neck. you moan as he applies pressure to your throat.
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he slides down you dress straps, with every kiss and touch you felt your dress being pulled lower and lower. bucky lifts you up on his lap, helping you out of the green champagne dress. you were fully exposed to him, his large hands grope your ass. he slaps the soft skin sending your lower half to grind against his tight jeans. bucky groans, pulling you closer to his bottom half. you felt the jean material rub against your clothes clit, your body shakes at the new feeling. “god you have no idea what you do to me princess.” he moans into your neck. his right hand unhooks your bra, you let the bra fall off of you. bucky eyes your bare chest, his blue eyes darken filling with lust.
he pulls your breast into his mouth, twirling his tongue around your swollen nipple. you grip onto his shirt, when moves your ass back and forth on his pants. “p-please bucky.” you whine, your body was aching for him to touch you. “what do you want doll?” you grab his, guiding him to your clothed cunt. you slip his hand under you, allowing his to grope your pussy. your mouth gapes open when bucky slowly rubs your clit back and forth.
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when he notices you like the feeling of him touching you, it sends him into a deep lustful trance. he flips you over, bucky’ dog tags dangle over you. he kisses between your breast, trailing down to your stomach then he comes in contact with your laced white panties.
you can feel his breath on your wet core. he inhales you, moaning as if your cunt was the drug he was addicted to. he removed your panties from your body, bucky’s cock hardens once he caught a look at your pussy, your cunt was glistening from how wet it was, it took everything in bucky not to dive right in. “your so wet for me baby, and i haven’t even touched you yet. your pussy is begging for me to devour it.” bucky taunts. he slips one finger in your folds, your back arches at the finger passes your clit.
“bucky…please. i’ll do anything.” you beg. bucky perks an eyebrow at you. “anything?” you nod vigorously. “you’re going to cum for me three times. understand?” you nod your head. bucky licks a stride up your cunt. he moans at the taste of you. bucky wraps his pink lips around your clit, your legs spread wide as you beg for him to devour you. your back arches more, his hands pin your waist down to keep you steady, you screw your eyes shut as he sucks your clit into his mouth softly.
you moan out in pleasure, letting your hands grip his soft brown hair. you tug on his roots, attempting to push him closer to you. bucky pulls away earring a whine from you, he slips his middle finger into your core. at first his movements were slowly, he was preparing before adding his ring finger. you rode his fingers, moaning as he pumped you. you watch as he spits on your core, watching his saliva mix in with your cunt. you felt your stomach tighten, bucky felt your pussy clench around his fingers, imagining you around his cock.
he wastes no time, diving into your pussy. his tongue rapidly worked your clit, his fingers pumping you at a fast pace. your body was overwhelmed by all the stimulation. “bucky!” you scream at the top of your lungs. you were now grinding against his face, he didn’t tease you anymore, now he was on a mission to give you your orgasm. your legs shake, you cry out for bucky, your toes curled and your back arches to its full extent. bucky slows his movements as you come down from your high.
you collapse on his bed, you shiver as you feel bucky remove his hand from your pussy. you try to catch your breath, bucky hovers over you. “who knew my babydoll had that in you.”
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love2write2626 · 2 years ago
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Our Love In a Rogue Nation 3
SMUT WARNING
Part 1 Part 2
Chapter 3
Ashley’s P.O.V
I stripped down to my bra and panties, and quickly let my hair down. I looked in the cabinets and thankfully found some makeup wipes. I closed my eyes to wipe the eye shadow off, and jumped when I felt two arms wrap around me.
“It’s just me” he whispered in my ear. He kissed my shoulder twice “Your brother passed out very quickly” Ethan didn’t move he kept his arms wrapped around my waist while cleaned my face. When I was finished he turned me around, and kissed my lips lightly “Baby you looked absolutely beautiful tonight, but you really don’t have to wear all that makeup… you look even more beautiful just as yourself” I blushed
“You look very handsome in a tux”
“Yeah?” I nodded “I wish you had waited for me… I would have loved to get you out of that stunning dress”
“I’m sorry… but I could use some help unhooking my bra”
“Oh, I can definitely help with that” he reached behind my back and I one swift movement he unhooked it. The bra fell quickly to the ground. He stared at me, not saying anything… of course I know how attractive Ethan finds me but I tend to get very self-conscious, I unintentionally started to use my arms to cover up. He quickly grabbed my arms and pulled them back down “Don’t ever hide your beautiful body from me. Do you understand?” he leaned down and was about to bring his mouth to my waiting nipple then he said “I need to know you understand”
“I understand” I replied, and he brought my nipple into his mouth, he brought his hand over to play with my other nipple. “Ethan” I moaned stopped just long enough to say
“You like that baby?”
“Yes” I said he quickly switched sides, and I am so fucking turned on right now. SO many lonely nights, he was not there to help me feel good… I could probably cum just like this.
“I need to taste you” he said
“Please” I said. He grabbed my hips and placed me on the counter and ripped my panties off “Ethan! I liked those” I said
“I’ll buy you many more” he kneeled to the ground and started kissing his way up my leg, when he got to my inner thigh he sucked a little bit harder… this wasn’t the first time, he loves to mark me in the same spot every time.
“Ethan! Baby please I really need you to…” I was cut off when he dove straight and started eating me out, like a man who was starving to death. I brought my, hands to his hair and brought him as close as possible. “Ethan” I moaned he stopped long enough to say
“Cum” I am so close and he knows, its been so long without him I have never cum this fast. Usually he goes slower he likes to take his time but both of us need this.
“Ethan” I moaned as I came all over his tongue. He helped me through the aftershocks of that phenomenal orgasm. He stood up, and I brought his lips down to mine
“Baby, I’ve missed you” he said in between kisses
“I need your cock… now!” I said, I reached down and unbuckled his pants, pushing them down, he quickly pushed his boxers off and I smiled when I saw how hard he is for me.
“That’s all for you baby” he said with a smirk
“Fuck me” he gently pushed into me, giving me a second to get used to him. I nodded to let him know it was ok to move and he started thrusting in and out of me. I was making noises that will make me blush tomorrow with embarrassment but right now I don’t fucking care, all I can think about is Ethan fucking me like there is no tomorrow.
“Fuck, baby I’ve missed your tight pussy” he said moving faster, I brought his lips down to mine again, and I could tell by how his movements were becoming less even that he was close. “Baby I need you to cum on my cock” He reached down and started playing with my clit. I groaned in please “Come on baby. You can do it for me” my eyes rolled in the back of my head and I came with loud cry, Ethan took 1 mor thrust before he came inside me. He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, leaving light kisses there. When we both caught our breaths, he slowly slid out and smiled brightly at me
“Hi” I said with a giggle
“Hey” he smiled, he reached over and grabbed a washcloth he wet it, and gently cleaned me. He is always so sweet after sex.
“I need a shower… but I won’t be able to stand” he smirked
“Good thing there is a tub” he walked over and turned on the water. He walked back over and ran his hands up and down my arms “That was amazing”
“It always is” I smiled brightly
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After our very relaxing bath, Ethan gave me one of his shirts to wear, and found some panties in one of the drawers, thankfully the IMF was nice enough to have a range of clothes sizes for their female agents. I walked into the dark cold room and climbed into the bottom bunk. Ethan walked right behind and laid down next to me. I snuggled deeply into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me tightly.
“I’m sorry” he whispered, I looked up even in the dark I could see his beautiful face and I could tell he was upset about something
“About what?” I asked gently running my fingers through his hair
“I’m sorry that I caused you so much pain. I’m sorry by leaving I caused you to slip back into the depression that you finally worked your way through.”
“It’s ok baby”
“No its not. Maybe I was protecting you physically, but if I am breaking your heart… that’s worse… and that something I never wanted to do”
“Ethan, I promise its ok. I wasn’t depressed… maybe I close but I wasn’t doing nearly as I was when I first met you. I was just sad because I missed you, I was scared that something had happened to you. Now that I’m here with you now… everything is ok. I am so fucking happy” he brought his lips down to mine, and we kissed.
“Sleep angel” he whispered when we broke apart
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I woke up, to the sound of to voices bickering
“Would you be quiet? You are going to wake Ashley up” I heard Ethan’s beautiful voice say
“Oh, please she needs to wake up anyway” I heard Ethan groan, I still hadn’t opened my eyes, but I smiled when I felt the bed dip next to me and I heard
“Good morning” Ethan helped me sit up so I wouldn’t hit my head on the top bunk
“Good Morning” I said back, He leaned in to give me a kiss but I stopped him “No, I need to brush my teeth first. I’ll be right back. I jumped up trying to hide the fact that my legs were still a bit wobbly from last nights amazing activities.
I quickly found a new tooth brush, I quickly put some toothpaste on it, and as I am brushing I walked out to see what Ethan and Benji were looking at on the computer. Ethan explained that our next stop will be Morocco, we need to find Ilsa. Apparently they were able to get tickets for a flight to Morocco in two hours so I needed to get ready.
I quickly walked back into the bathroom rinsed my mouth and started to get undressed when I realized that I didn’t have any clothes, so I stuck my head out the door
“Ethan?” I asked
“Yes, baby?”
“Can you bring me some clothes please” he smiled
“Sure” his smile changed slightly when he noticed I wasn’t smiling back, but he turned around and went to the drawers to find me some clothes. He came back a few moments later, and let himself into the bathroom. He handed the clothes to me, a cute top, and some jeans. “What’s wrong?” he asked
“Nothing” I responded, he started at me for a moment
“Baby, there’s something bothering you… what is it?” I walked over and kissed his lightly
"Nothing, I’m exhausted. You wore me out last night, and I didn’t get enough sleep… that’s all” he pulled me into his arms and he kissed the top of my head lightly
“You can sleep on the plane… ok?” I nodded into his chest
“Now get out of here so I can get ready” I said, he smirked and walked out. I stared at myself in the mirror feeling guilty… I lied to Ethan there is something bothering me…  Ilsa is bothering me. Part of me hoped last night would be the last time we would see her. I hate that I’m so jealous. I know Ethan loves me; just what man wouldn’t be tempted by her. I took a deep breath and smiled into the mirror, I can get over this… it’s ridiculous to feel this way… but I still can’t stop the thoughts running through my head
“Ashley, I need to get ready too!” I heard Benji yell “Hurry your ass up” I rolled my eyes, and quickly got dressed, ready to face whatever the day has planned
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vicxy · 3 years ago
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Pick A Pile Reading: Choose a Villainess 🥀🃏
Hello everyone, I decided to come up with this PAC for you guys to read as I go through all your asks. I’m really sorry for not being able to release it sooner, and thank you to those who are supportive. As you can probably guess from the title, the topic of this PAC is: What kind of villain would you be? I hope this will be to everyone’s liking, please leave some feedback so I can improve! This is meant to be a lighthearted (?) PAC for entertainment purposes, so don’t take it too seriously :) Please keep in mind this is a general reading so some might not resonate. I will also add a small part with things I think you need to hear.
“A hero will sacrifice you for the world, but the villain will sacrifice the world for you.”
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Choose the pile(s) you are drawn to. Happy reading!
☾ Pile one: The Enchantress
I see a yellow gemstone for this pile, some of you might resonate with that? Maybe Opal? 7, 9 or 20 might be important numbers for you. Virgo, Pluto, Fire, Aquarius, and Moon energy here. Quite a lot of sword energy too. Capricorn, strong Jupiter, Libra, and Air dominants here too. I see that as villains, some of you could be quite scheming, not really in a bad way though. Wise beyond your years, you have a lot of foresight, and are probably the types to plan a coup or be the mastermind behind things. Maybe Junko from Danganronpa but with less of the crazy. The ones who are desperate for knowledge, but might have went about it in the wrong way. As a villain you might not show yourself much. I got “cartographer?” You might be sensitive to criticism, and hate it when you are questioned by your minions. The second type of villain I see from this pile is the sneaky type? Not the mastermind of the “main” villain, probably the one who betrayed the heroes’ side for the villains’. It might be because you didn’t feel included or like you were part of the heroes’ side. As a villain, you could be good at gathering information and using manipulation in order to achieve your goals. A spy, perhaps an assassin. Lowkey gives me Sasori (Naruto) vibes. The last type of villain I see here are the types who can get too hung up on things. Unable to let go, they let their past mistakes consume them and they turn evil, possibly to run away or to avoid something, possibly their past situations. Self conscious and unable to face their true self. In the past, the people in this pile could have had bad habits limiting their personal growth. Right now, some of you could be quite stressed. You should take a break and pamper yourself; impulsive as it may seem, it would be the best for you in the long run. The future is promising for this pile but roadblocks or conflicts right now need to be removed / resolved in order for you to advance. Good luck!
☾ Pile Two: Harley Quinn
Leo, strong Mars and Air, Pisces, Cancer, Libra, Moon, Mercury. The first type of villain I see here is the stubborn type. The ones who fight doggedly until the end even when they know they’re wrong.Quite impulsive, you could start fights easily and that could get you into trouble. Enemies are made easily. Some of you could be passive, or too defensive. On the other hand you could also be the type to give up easily, but mostly I see stubbornness. The second type of villain I see here is one of my favourites. If I could put it in one word, it would be smooth. Jesper from Shadow and Bone vibes. Intelligent, social, charming. Probably the type of villain to have their eyes everywhere, you know what is going on at all times. Also the type of villain to have a glib tongue, easily talking your way out of things / trouble. May be particularly interested in puzzles, mysteries, and mind games. Good at strategy. The third and last type of villain I see here is the type that can be perfectionists. Probably not villains by choice, these people are very avoidant. You probably dislike conflict, and try to avoid them, which can cause even more problems for you. Maybe the type to lie about something and lie more and more as to cover the lie. Eventually it snowballs. You could be idealistic as well, so you try to create a “perfect” world. Which is to say, your ideal one. In the past, a lot of you might have been unsure of where to go or what to do, but you could’ve been enlightened by something or someone recently and now know what to do. Trust yourself. Right now, I think that some of you could just have gone through something important or great in general. The efforts you’ve been putting in will pay off, so hang in there. In the future, some of you could be leaving from toxic relationships. You will also be more decisive, and in control of your life. 5, 6, 7 and 10 could be important numbers for some of you.
☾ Pile Three: Cruella
Lowkey weird but I saw the anemo symbol for this pile so maybe some of y'all play genshin impact? (pls if y'all do dm me I'm ar 55 with nothing to do) Strong Taurus and Mercury here, Cancer, Gemini, Leo, Virgo, Jupiter, Saturn. The first type of villain I see here is the one who was always known as the outsider. Down on their luck and probably weren't the types to get opportunities from others. There is something lacking in these people's lives, yet they don't know what it is. Reliant on others. These are the types of villains who victimize themselves and make you pity them, but stab you in the back right after with no sympathy whatsoever. The second type of villain I see here is somebody with very low self esteem. They might not have a sense of self direction and let themselves get used by other villains? Probably afraid of failure and disappointing others. On the other hand, this villain could also be opinionated and arrogant. Especially reckless, they are mostly bark with no bite. The type to give you threats but gets defeated in an instant 💀 They could also be the type to want recognition, maybe even obsessed with success. That will be their downfall. The last type of villain I see in this pile is the dramatic type of villain. The ones who make a mountain out of a molehill. Probably the ones who try to take things too far, or like putting on a big show with their abilities. They could also be the whiny type, the ones who get mad when they don't get what they want. Unresolved anger issues too. Lastly, they could be the villains who had gone through some kind of transformative experience in their life to make them this way. In the past, you could have felt very "stuck" and bored with your own life. You could also have lessened interactions in your social life due to responsibilities. Try letting loose sometimes. You could have also neglected some serious issues which you needed to face. For some of you who have been struggling or anything like that, rest assured that things will blow over soon. Hang in there, and remain grounded. For those of you who have put effort into something, I see that the rewards you get might not be up to your expectations. At least now you know what is worth you investing your time in; sit back and reevaluate your situation.
OKAY I'm finally done, it's almost 1am and I'm gonna catch some sleep. I really really hope this was alright, good day everyone! Please leave feedback so I can improve, I have a feeling this one is quite bad lmao. 💖 thank you for all the support thus far!
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