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#me: can barely write a reply on a free day
noyasmashing · 1 day
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Nishinoya and Hoshiumi are everything to me and I've seen you write for both! An actual legend among authors!
If you're interested, could I request how they would react to a big spoon reader (separate). This is technically an sfw request but feel free to do whatever you want!
AHHHH your too sweet!! I never see recognition these characters as subs so i love rq for them ☺️☺️
Nishinoya
He'd be absolutely adorable, all shy and bashful as if cuddling with someone was a completely new experience for him. The sensation of your chest against his back would send shivers down his spine, especially if you have curves and aren't wearing a bra. I imagine he'd relish the feeling of being enveloped in warmth and safety, with no worries in the world.
And if you tried to move away? Forget about it. He'd cling to you like a koala, whining and pleading like a little kid just to keep you close. He'd come up with some silly excuse, like claiming he's chilly, just to prolong the cuddle session.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The soft afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Nishinoya lay sprawled across his bed, his breathing slow and steady as he dozed off after a long day of practice. The rhythmic sound of his gentle snores filled the room along with the gentle hum of the heater.
You couldn't help but smile as you watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, so vulnerable in this moment, completely unaware of your presence. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should disturb him, but the urge to be close to him was too strong to resist.
Quietly, you approached the bed and carefully slipped under the covers beside him. With a gentle touch, you spooned him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your chest against his back.
Nishinoya stirred slightly at the sensation, but he didn't wake up. Instead, he unconsciously shifted closer to you, nuzzling his head against your chest as if seeking out your embrace. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight.
Minutes passed as you laid there, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.
Eventually, Nishinoya began to stir again, blinking sleepily as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He tensed slightly at first, surprised by the unexpected warmth at his back, but as he turned to glance over his shoulder, his expression softened into a smile.
"Hey there," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur.
Nishinoya's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with affection, face flushed. "I like this," he replied, his voice soft and husky from sleep.
Hoshiumi
AHHH this man would be sooo into it. I can imagine him eagerly demand cuddles from you, especially after a grueling day of training.
He knows he’s small, but rather than feeling self-conscious, he embraces it. Spooning is his favorite way to cuddle for a reason, him loving the feeling of being wrapped in your embrace, his smaller frame perfectly fitting against yours.
And falling asleep in your arms? It was his ultimate comfort. Whenever he had a nightmare or simply couldn't find rest, your warmth and protection never failed to lull him into a peaceful slumber.
He would absolutely melt if you gently ran your fingers through his hair, showering him with praise for all the wonderful things he does for you. He'd lean into your touch, basking in the affection, and whine in protest if you ever stopped. All he craves is your attention and admiration!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
You found yourself nestled comfortably between the plush cushions of your couch, the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. It hadn't been long since Korai settled down to take a nap, but he had already made his way to the living room, unable to resist the urge to be near you.
“mm I want you,” your lover whined, prodding your arms so he could weasel his way into them.
You chuckled at his endearing behavior, shifting your body to accommodate him as you enveloped him in a warm embrace. As you spooned him from behind, you felt his body relax fully into your grasp, a contented sigh escaping his lips.
Using his arms to nudge yours, Korai silently signaled his desire for more affection, prompting you to oblige. You hummed, bringing your hand up to gently stroke his soft hair, your fingertips grazing his scalp with a soothing touch that prompted a purr from him.
"I'm so proud of you, Korai," you murmured softly, your words filled with genuine admiration. You could hear the faintest of whimpers escape him in response, his cheeks flushing at your praise.
The sensation of your fingers running through his hair with such tenderness was almost overwhelming for him, his eyelids growing heavy as he leaned even closer to you, seeking further comfort in your embrace.
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madschiavelique · 9 months
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Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind
1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or
2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.
HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)
summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 3,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya
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Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.
He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.
"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.
Well, you were indeed back with Jess.
"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.
What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.
He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.
In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.
"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.
"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.
"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.
"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.
What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.
Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.
Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?
Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.
Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.
Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.
So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.
"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."
But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?
His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.
"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."
He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.
He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.
He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.
The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...
It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.
"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."
His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.
No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.
He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?
He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.
He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.
"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"
"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."
He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.
"That's good work," he breathed.
"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."
"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.
He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.
You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.
"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.
Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.
You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.
He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.
"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.
You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.
"Is... everything alright?"
He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.
"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"
Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.
"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."
But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.
But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.
"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."
He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:
"I want to breed you."
There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.
"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.
His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?
"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.
"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.
He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.
"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."
Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.
But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.
He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.
"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."
Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.
He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:
"See, your silence tells me enoug-"
"Breed me," you cut him off.
He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.
Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?
"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.
"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."
The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.
You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.
The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.
He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.
Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.
He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.
"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"
"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.
"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.
"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"
You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.
"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.
"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."
You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:
"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".
You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.
"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.
You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.
"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.
Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.
Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.
Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.
The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.
"Hands behind your back."
His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.
So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.
He had locked you completely.
He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.
That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.
He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.
His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.
He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.
You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.
Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.
He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.
He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.
He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.
He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.
And the world stopped spinning for a second.
You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.
He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.
A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.
"I hope you thought of six names."
It would be a long, long night.
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onlyhuis · 3 months
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midnight cravings
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member — minghao x f reader genre — smut word count — 1.7k synopsis — what better way is there to get a good night's rest than having minghao fuck you to sleep? warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, praise, nicknames (baby, honey, good girl), established relationship notes — june onlyhuis posting 2 days in a row... unheard of ! i was gonna wait a bit longer to post this but a) am impatient and b) i still feel bad about disappearing off the face of the earth for so long so i’m making up for it <3 pls feel free to reblog/comment/send an ask if you liked this!! i'm really trying to get back into writing again and any feedback helps me a ton :) enjoy!
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it's not often that you wake up in the middle of the night feeling restless.
sometimes it's because you desperately need a drink of water, and sometimes it's because you need to pee. sometimes it's because you had a nightmare that startles you so bad, you just need to lie awake for a second to calm yourself down.
but sometimes it's for a different reason. sometimes, you have a dream that's so good, you can't stop thinking about it when you wake up. thinking about… minghao.
rolling onto your side, you watch him, eyes still adjusting to the darkness as you try to ignore the throbbing between your legs. 
as you start to wake up you notice the way his long hair falls across his face. his barely audible snores fill the room, the sound much too peaceful for the thoughts you're currently having.
you inhale quietly, hesitating as you debate your next move. finally you decide to reach out, tapping his shoulder as lightly as you can.
“hao?” you whisper, pushing the sheets down to your waist. seconds turn into minutes as you wait for a reply, but the snores continue.
you tap his arm again, almost holding your breath.
the snoring stops, so you whisper his name a little louder, hoping to wake him up gradually and not startle him. “minghao?”
there's a mumbled noise, then finally a “hmm?” as he lifts his head off the pillow.
you don't reply, not knowing quite how to reply, so he breathes out slowly and starts to shake himself away from sleep. “what time is it?”
“late,” you tell him hesitantly, voice hushed.
he squints his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. “why're you up?”
you pause for a moment. “had a dream.”
“good one or bad one?”
you feel your cheeks burn, but it still doesn't compare to the heat building in the pit of your stomach. “good. really good.”
he hums with a little chuckle. he knows exactly what you want now, but he never lets you off easy. “and what do you need me for?” he asks.
you try to hold back a whimper, knowing you're gonna have to use your words if you want something. “fuck me back to sleep, hao, will you? please?”
your hand slips beneath the sheets, gently resting on his thigh before trailing over the waistband of his silk pajama pants. before you even touch him you know he's already starting to get hard, just from the sigh he lets out at the warmth of your palm against his leg.
“is that what you need, baby?” he asks, his voice breathy and deep from sleep. “need me to take care of you?”
you squeeze your thighs together impatiently. “please?” you ask again. you move your hand against his bulge, feeling his hips push up against you.
minghao groans, his hand on top of yours pressing into his cock. “roll onto your side,” he says, the words gentle but commanding.
you move to face away from him as he pushes up onto his elbows, leaning over your body and gently brushing your hair onto the pillow. “tell me about your dream,” he says, bending down to kiss your neck.
his lips are warm and distracting. “don't remember,” you sigh. “just thinking about you. always thinking about you.”
he hums against your neck and you can't help but smile. the action is so similar to what he'd do during the daytime, but at the same time so completely different. you love it when he's rough and hard and makes you feel like you're bursting at the seams, but you love the times like this too, whispers and spontaneous touches that feel almost like a dream.
his hand curls around your body, cold fingertips against your stomach making you shiver as they slowly move their way down between your legs and push your panties to the side.
“so wet already,” he whispers, running his finger between your folds. “have you been awake long?”
you gasp when he pushes into you, clenching around his index finger. “no,” you breathe out. “i woke you up as soon as i did.”
“you didn't even try to take care of it yourself?” he asks, and you can almost hear the proud grin in his words.
“knew you could do a better job,” you whine as he pushes another finger into your heat. “a-always take such good care of me, i just wanted you.”
“such a good girl for me,” he breathes out in agreement, and you hear him groan as he presses his bulge into the back of your thigh. “are you prepped enough or do you need more?”
“need your cock, hao, please?” you beg him, and reluctantly he pulls his fingers out of you but quickly replaces them with his cock.
it's completely dark in the room save for the moonlight shining through the window. but it doesn't take minghao long to position himself behind you, guiding his length between your legs with the practiced ease that could only come from knowing someone as long as you have.
“fuck… not gonna last long, honey,” he groans as he slides into you, gently holding your thighs apart.
he draws back out of you, pushing himself into you harder and harder with each snap of his hips. “don't need to, just don't stop,” you moan at the slow and rhythmic motion. “just make me cum.”
he leans over to kiss your temple, his body almost completely surrounding you under the covers. with his free hand he brushes your hair out of the way, cradling your head against his chest. 
you can tell he's more tired than usual because of the languid pace he's set, giving you slow, deep thrusts that make you feel so light, like you'd float away from the bed if it weren't for his arms wrapped around you. 
each stroke seems almost deeper than the last, and you swear you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock ingrained inside you.
he pauses for a beat, adjusting his hips to get a better angle. you gasp, back arching away from him as each thrust kisses you in the spot that makes your knees weak.
“right there—fuck! right there, please keep going,” you babble to him, balling your hands into fists and gripping your pillow as you struggle to find something to hold onto. 
he doesn't say anything in reply, concentrated on keeping his pace.
your walls throb with pleasure and you're sure he can feel it too, judging by the guttural moans he lets out each time he pulls out of you.  
“minghao, close, c-close!” you whimper, voice shaking as you try to warn him. it only takes a couple more deep thrusts before an orgasm overtakes you that blurs your vision with stars, and all you can do is gasp for breath as you shudder in his arms, clenching uncontrollably around his cock.
you release your grip on the pillow and move your hand onto his, squeezing him so tightly you think you might break him as you struggle to ride out the waves of pleasure.
he exhales sharply as his thrusts begin to get sloppier, and you know he's close, too.
“cum for me,” you plead, breathless whispers cutting through the dark. “wanna feel you.”
minghao curses and pushes his face into your neck, his hot breath making your skin prickle. the weight of his body atop yours has an almost calming effect as you recover from your orgasm, even as he continues to desperately thrust into you, chasing that last bit of pleasure.
within just a few more strokes he's coming undone and you feel your walls flood with warmth. he leaves open-mouthed kisses and moans across your shoulder, his entire body tensed against your back as he empties into you.
the moment seems to last forever until he finally loosens his grip around you, keeping his cock inside you as he breathes out slowly.
“feel better, baby?” he asks, gently kissing your cheek as he pushes your sweat-drenched hair out of the way once more. “just like your dream?”
you sigh, unable to hide the smile on your face. “perfect. better than the dream.”
“i love you,” he mumbles against your neck. “always so good for me. anything you need, darling, i'm all yours.”
your face warms and you don't reply, but you squeeze his hand again and he squeezes back.
after a moment you throw the covers off and exhale, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed as minghao pulls out of you with a groan. you can feel his cum beginning to seep out so you force yourself up before it can get on the sheets, not wanting to clean up any more than you have to. 
your exhaustion hits you all at once, and you rush through clean up as fast as you can so you can finally relax. minghao follows you to the bathroom, cleaning himself up and handing you a cold washcloth once you're finished, seeming just as eager as you are to get back to sleep.
the second you're finished he tugs your hand back into the bedroom, both of you falling onto the bed. even with the overhead fan circulating cool air the room is much too warm to sleep with pajamas now, so you settle for just a clean pair of underwear before jumping under the covers again.
silence settles in quickly once you're both back in bed, lying on your side with minghao's arm draped across your waist. it's not long before he starts to snore again, but you barely stay awake long enough to hear it, the familiar sound lulling you back to sleep in no time at all.
it's not the first time you've woken him up in the middle of the night, and it certainly won't be the last.
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arieslost · 2 months
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cinnamon whiskey | ln4
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lando norris x fem!writer!reader
summary: you meet a famous race car driver in one of the last places you’d expect— the adirondacks.
word count: 4,578
warnings: drinking, minor injuries (small description of bruising)
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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Your editor was going to kill you.
Every day brought you closer to the deadline for your manuscript, and every day you could hardly help yourself out in getting to your self-imposed goal of 1,000 words. It wasn’t a difficult feat; you’d done it before, and you didn’t have anything else to be doing. You had absolutely zero distractions: it was just you, your notebook, and your computer. There was only one problem.
The words just weren’t coming to you, and you’d already gotten a two week extension on the deadline. It felt like all your writing abilities had been rescinded.
“I’m screwed.” You professed to your best friend, falling into a pathetic heap on her couch. You needed a serious pick-me-up after struggling to write a measly paragraph, and she had readily offered a girls night.
“I think you’re being a little dramatic. Scoot over.” She replied, shoving your legs out of the way so she could sit. “Maybe you just need to get out of your house.”
“And go where? I can’t just pack up and take a vacation right now.” You grumbled into the couch cushion.
“Why don’t you go upstate?” She suggested after a moment of silence.
“Upstate?” You repeated.
“Yeah, go to the Adirondacks. My dad owns a house up there, remember? We had a blast the last time we were there.”
You and your best friend had gone up to the Adirondacks when you graduated college, and you always prefaced the retelling of it with, “It was one of the best weeks of my life.” You almost felt silly for not thinking of doing something like that in the first place.
“It might be a good idea… Do you think your dad would be okay with me staying there?”
Your best friend laughed. “Yes, you idiot. He’s let me stay there by myself, he’ll definitely let you.”
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A mere 24 hours went by, and you were settled in a cozy cabin in the Adirondacks with the desperate hope of having the rest of your manuscript ready by the end of your stay. Otherwise, you might as well just fire yourself and save your editor some time.
It wasn’t the only cabin in the area– it was more like a very small community made up of six houses built exactly the same. The area was usually used by people with a decent amount of cash lining their pockets, so you were extra grateful to your best friend’s father. He had taken one look at the dejection on your face when your best friend had mentioned her grand idea, and simply handed you the keys with the promise that your stay would be free of charge.
You did feel a little out of place, though– you could have sworn one of your neighbors was in a movie you’d just watched, and another one was just so ridiculously attractive there was no way he wasn’t famous for something. You’d seen him out on his front porch when you arrived, and had to force yourself not to stare or salivate over his bare torso.
The change of scenery around you helped tremendously. At first. You always felt refreshed when you went somewhere new, particularly if it was somewhere you felt more connected to nature. You had gotten into the habit of taking walks to calm yourself when you got frustrated, and having new sights was definitely an exciting prospect for when you inevitably slammed your computer shut and stormed out the door like you just did a few moments ago.
You’ll be the first to admit it: the story just isn’t coming together. Your main character has a goal, a purpose, but she is entirely lacking any kind of driving force to get where she needs to go.
She has no motivation.
You can appreciate irony, but there’s nothing funny about it right now.
The dirt and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk down the first trail that you see. It branches off from the main path that runs between all of the houses: yours, the attractive guy’s, and one other, and then the suspected movie star’s and the other two on the other side. Right now, you just want to see nothing but the path before you, the trees in your peripheral vision, the gentle summer breeze in your hair, and maybe a chipmunk or a squirrel here and there.
But, of course, you can’t even have that. You’re alone with your thoughts for all of two seconds before you hear a crash off to your left that sends a few birds flying. You would have ignored it if not for the groan that immediately followed.
“Um… hello?” You call out, doubling back to try and see just what the hell had happened.
If you were in a horror movie, this would most certainly be your death scene.
“Ah…” It’s definitely a man, and he definitely sounds like he’s in pain.
“Are you okay?” You step off the path, getting closer to where the noise had come from.
That’s where you find him— your insanely attractive neighbor, practically in the fetal position, entirely focused on the camera in his hand. His jaw is clenched, whether in pain or concern for the camera, you don’t know. You just know he has a sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and curly hair.
Ugh, you could cry because he’s so good looking.
He looks up at you, eyes meeting yours, and he has the decency to look embarrassed.
“What the hell just happened to you?”
“I, um… I fell out of that tree.” He confesses, pointing to a branch, not too high up, but now dangling in half.
“And you were in the tree because…” You trail off, gesturing for him to explain further.
“Right, well, I was taking pictures and had an idea for a good one from a higher vantage point, so I climbed the tree. Thought I had a good balance, but—” He winces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “I didn’t.”
“No kidding. You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.” You marvel, hands held out in front of you just in case he falls over when he starts standing up.
“I’m not too sure about that.” He huffs out a pained laugh.
“You wouldn’t have been able to stand up so easily if you had, and your wrist and shoulder look fine.” You point out. “I have no doubt that you bruised your side up pretty badly though.”
“Yeah? How would you know?” He leans against the tree he just fell out of, his miraculously unbroken camera hanging from the strap around his neck.
“I’m a writer. I’m like a black hole of useless information.”
“I don’t think it’s useless anymore.” He takes a step forward and his face immediately contorts into a grimace. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Well, you’ve already asked so much of me, but if you really have to, then sure.” You tease, and he laughs again.
“I’m probably going to need some help getting back to the house,” he begins, and then continues after taking in the surprised look on your face. “But you don’t have to. I can just crawl or something. Maybe I’ll get lucky and make it back before nightfall.”
Not just attractive, but funny too? You might as well make the most out of these two weeks and use whatever you can to help you finish that dreaded manuscript. Besides, the only other person you’ve ever met who can hold a torch to your sense of humor is your best friend. This has to be a sign of some sort.
“Alright, but at least tell me your name first.”
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His name is Lando, you’ve known him for an hour, and you think you’re in love with him.
Sure, you’re frustrated that he completely ruined the solitude that you craved, but the ice maker in his house is broken and he desperately needs some for the bruise that you know is darkening by the second underneath his t-shirt. So he’s sprawled out on your couch, and you’re in the kitchen collecting ice cubes to wrap up in a hand towel.
“Alright, lift your shirt up,” you instruct, walking into the living room and taking a seat beside him.
“I usually take a girl out before I let her see me half naked.”
“But it’s okay if everyone else sees you out on your porch half naked?”
“You were looking?” He tilts his head down a little and raises his eyebrows. “Liked what you saw, did you?”
You blush. “Just shut up and lift your shirt.”
He hums a little to himself as he pulls his shirt up, revealing the beginnings of a bruise on his tan skin that is already swollen and definitely going to get worse over the next couple of days. It looks like it continues below the waistband of his boxers, but you’re not about to tell him to pull his pants down.
“That’s ugly.”
“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs, biting his lip when you gently rest the makeshift ice pack against his side.
“You have a habit of falling out of trees?”
“I have a habit of being in potentially life-threatening situations. It’s kinda part of my job.” He says it like he’s waiting for you to figure something out, waiting for something to click.
You take a moment to just look at him again. His fluffy curls, his infuriatingly handsome face, his thick neck, his toned stomach. And then something you’ve heard your best friend say a million times echoes in your head.
I bet every F1 driver’s contract has a clause that says they have to be hot in order to get in. I mean, you have Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc, and don’t even get me started on–
“Oh my God. Lando Norris?” You exclaim, almost jumping up from shock but stopping yourself so you don’t jostle him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I thought you knew!”
You glare at him. “Cocky much?”
“Well, what did you think when I told you my name?” He asks defensively.
“I don’t know, I thought your parents really liked Star Wars or something.”
He scoffs at this and smacks your hand away, holding the ice himself. “That’s real creative.”
“I’m sorry! My best friend is really into Formula One, but the most I’ve seen is bits and pieces of a race. I’ve never seen you, y’know, not in your car.” You feel like your eyes are practically bugging out of your head. “Wow, this is insane.” You knew he was too good looking to not be famous.
“Want me to sign something for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“I will punch you right in your bruise.”
He stays for a couple more hours, readily enduring your endless stream of questions that follow your revelation of him being a Formula One driver, only getting a reprieve when the ice melts and you have to go get more.
He compensates for recounting his entire journey to Formula One by asking you his own questions the moment he’s done. You tell him more about how you became a writer– how you got your bachelor’s degree, got out into the world, and realized you had no clue what you wanted to do with your life, so you took a retail job. It paid a dollar above minimum wage, but it was worth it when something you heard a customer say once inspired you to craft a narrative that your editor liked enough to pick it up. She’d taken a gamble on you; you were her fourth client and the book wasn’t finished yet.
“So that’s why I’m out here,” you pause to catch your breath. “I need to have the manuscript done two weeks from yesterday, and I wasn’t getting anything done at home.”
“Needed a change of scenery.” Lando nods, like he can read your mind.
“Exactly.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious under his intense gaze but refusing to look away.
The energy in the room shifts as the two of you look at each other, and you break the sudden eye contact when you take note of the fact that it’s dark out.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he breaks the silence, pulling his shirt back down and letting out a quiet groan as he gets up. “I’ll see you tomorrow? There’s no way someone will be able to get up here to fix my ice machine by the morning.”
You blink at him a couple times, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you just spent hours talking with Lando Norris, all because he fell out of a tree. You didn’t even offer to make him dinner or anything, and he’s making plans to do this all over again.
You still haven’t spoken, so he waves his hand in front of your face. “Oh! Yeah, of course. Be careful, okay?”
He gives you an obnoxious salute. “I’ll try to survive the 50 steps it takes to get to my place from here.”
You go running for your laptop and start writing as soon as he’s gone.
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He’s at your door in the morning, and spends the whole day with you. Then the next, and the next, and the next thing you know, you only have four days left in your best friend’s dad’s house and it feels like you and Lando have known each other your entire lives. He isn’t able to do much in terms of physical activity, and when he trips over a root after insisting he’s fine you make the executive decision to go back to your house.
“Make some room, would you?” You sigh, looking for a place to sit thanks to the fact that he’s taking up the entire couch.
He simply lifts his head up.
“You’re joking, right?”
“I’m in pain. Don’t you want me to be comfortable?” He pouts at you.
“You’re insufferable, and a liar.” All the same, you sit down, and he rests his head in your lap.
He ignores you, eyes closed with a satisfied little smile on his face.
For his antics, you decide to disturb his newfound peace by putting the ice pack directly on his face and laugh when he bats it away.
“That’s just mean,” he whines, pressing his lips together when you put the ice on his bruise.
It’s mostly yellow and green now, like a weird rendition of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Lando had made a game out of poking it two nights ago that ended just as quickly when he poked himself too hard and blamed you for it when you had been in the middle of telling him not to. After that, he hadn’t touched it, and now it looks a lot better. The ice probably isn’t needed anymore, but you’d prefer to err on the side of caution.
“You’ll live,” you say now, patting the top of his head to distract him from the discomfort.
“The last time I had a bruise this bad was when I crashed in Vegas last year.” He says, blinking up at the ceiling. “Took a while to go away.”
“I think I remember hearing about that. You crashed pretty early, no?”
“Yup. Barely got to race.” The sentences come out very clipped, like he’s still upset about it.
“It was a bad crash, huh?”
“Pretty bad.” You don’t have anything to say in response to that, so you start brushing your fingers through his curls. He relaxes instantaneously.
He almost falls asleep with his head in your lap, and that’s when you can’t take it anymore and have to kick him out. He’s almost to the last step when he stops and turns back, making direct eye contact with you.
“Y’know, it’s too bad you weren’t there when I crashed.” He gives you a soft smile. “You’re pretty good at taking care of me.”
Well, shit.
There’s a bottle of cinnamon whiskey sitting in one of the kitchen cabinets that you’ve been waiting for an excuse to open. You should drink it now when you’re thinking about him, but you decide to wait until you see him again.
You open your laptop and write until you fall asleep.
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By the time you let him in the next morning, you’re stumped again. You only slept for a few hours and expected to get right back into your groove the moment you woke up, but when you read over what you wrote last night, your brain just refused to comprehend it. It feels like you’re back to square one, but you can’t be too upset about it when Lando makes his way through the door. He doesn’t mention anything about ice like he usually does, which makes you equally happy and disappointed. Happy that he’s feeling good enough to forego the ice, disappointed because that means that there’s really no reason for him to come over anymore.
But if there’s one thing you can expect from him, it’s his spontaneity.
“We should go out tonight.”
“And where exactly would we be going?” You ask, watching him kick back on the couch like he’s the one that lives here.
“I dunno, just outside, I guess. You like stargazing?”
“I love it.” You reply enthusiastically. “I bet the stars are gorgeous out here. I’ve been cooped up every night, I haven’t had the chance to see them.”
“It’s settled then. Cancel your plans, you’re all mine tonight.”
“I didn’t— never mind.” You silently will away the flush creeping up your neck. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“How’d those pictures come out? The ones you were trying to take when you fell?” You lean over the back of the couch in order to actually see him as you’re talking to him.
“That was two questions.” He laughs when you smack his shoulder. “I got a couple action shots as I was falling. They’re terrible, but I’m thinking about keeping them for the memories. Fun story for the kids, don’t you think?”
“Sure.” The kids?! You’re definitely breaking out the whiskey tonight. It’s the first (and only) thing you grab when he goes back to his place to get a blanket.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask the moment the two of you step onto the trail, and he puts a hand over his heart.
“Your concern for me is adorable.”
“I’m only asking because you almost ate shit last time.” You burst out laughing at the immediate change in his expression.
He ends up leading the way for a mile or two before you reach a clearing that you would’ve discovered had he not fallen out of the tree.
“This is beautiful,” you muse, taking in your surroundings as Lando lays the blanket on the ground.
The sun is just about set, a light breeze passing through; a few different wildflowers are waving throughout the clearing. You look around and can’t see any sign of civilization. While that should make you nervous, since you’re with a guy you’ve only known for less than two weeks, it instead makes you relax. You forget entirely about your computer waiting for you back at the house and busy yourself with getting the top off the whiskey bottle.
“Found it the second day I was here. I’ll have to show you the pictures I got once I upload them all.” Lando says, furrowing his eyebrows as you struggle with your task. “Need some help there?”
“Be my guest,” you hand it over and have to force yourself to remain calm when he pops the top off like it was nothing.
“Ladies first,” he hands it back.
With pleasure, you think to yourself. Maybe getting drunk will help you stop acting like a schoolgirl. You take a generous drink, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing out slowly. “That is strong.”
“Hand it over.” He lets out a low whistle as soon as he swallows and returns it to you. “Wow.”
“I actually had a dream like this once,” you say, wincing at the burn of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. “I was just laying there, staring at the stars, with no worries. It was so peaceful.”
Lando takes the bottle from your outstretched hand. “I don’t dream.”
“What?!” The high pitch of your voice slices through the night. “Are you serious?”
“Yup.” He takes a long sip from the bottle before placing it down in the space between you. “Never have.”
“That’s- that’s crazy.” You shake your head.
“I’d think it’s nicer that way, no?” he counters. “I probably sleep better than you.”
“I mean, I guess. But then you don’t have any crazy dreams to share.”
“You always remember your dreams?”
Now, you blush. You’re not sure why you’re embarrassed. “I, um… I keep a journal.”
Lando’s eyes widen. “No way.”
“I have dreams written down all the way back to 2015.” You confess, reaching for the bottle again.
He starts laughing, like he thinks you’re joking.
“I’m serious!” You exclaim, shoving his shoulder. “In my defense, I’ve actually come up with some ideas from my dreams. Fat lot of good they’re doing for me right now, but…”
Lando hums, eyes skimming over your now crestfallen expression. He passes the bottle back.
“Thanks,” you mumble, tilting the bottle up to your lips.
“I’m sure you’ll find some type of inspiration while we’re out here.”
“I only have two days left, Lan.”
He gestures for you to pass the bottle back, and you do. You watch as he takes a sip, looking from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck, to his Adam’s apple that bobs as he swallows. You’re really going to miss this view. He lets out a quiet hiss. “Damn, that’s strong whiskey.”
“I told you.”
There’s a lull in the conversation, and then he speaks again. “My ice machine got fixed.”
“That’s—”
“Last week.” He cuts you off, doing that stupid thing he does where he stares directly into your eyes.
Your heart is in your throat, and your voice is small when you reply. “Okay…”
“And I was supposed to leave three days ago.”
Now your jaw drops. “Why… Why are you still here?”
“Because you’re still here.” He answers evenly, the alcohol clearly working in his favor. “I initially came here for the same reason as you– needed a change of scenery. It’s summer break right now, and my friend Logan told me it was super nice up here. It is, but then I had my little mishap and… it’s been a lot better since you showed up. So I decided to stay a little longer.”
He’s close to you now, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath, so you say the only thing you can think to say. “I can’t believe you fell out of a tree.”
“I can’t believe you took care of me this whole time.” He brushes your hair out of your face, and his fingers linger on your cheek.
Your internal giddiness rises when you realize he’s actually about to kiss you. Your stomach is doing Olympic level gymnastics and you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you let the whiskey do it for you: you kiss him first.
You can’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, but the moment he pulls you on top of him you know that you won’t ever forget kissing him.
“Lan…” you break away from him to catch your breath, smoothing his curls back from his forehead. You can just see the glint in his eyes as he stares up at you, and it’s borderline painful knowing that you only get to enjoy this view for two more days.
You don’t remember what you were going to say to him. It’s way too soon for “I love you,” and not the right time to say “I already miss you.” You still want to say both.
Like he can hear your inner turmoil, he silences it by touching his forehead to yours. “Kiss me again, please,” he whispers.
You don’t waste a second in giving him what he wants, wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel his lips against yours again. You’re careful to avoid his side as he lays back on the blanket, keeping a firm grip on your hips so you don’t go anywhere. You try to convey everything you want to say into the kiss: I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I know I’m going to miss you. Please don’t let me go.
He holds you closer and gently slips his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him, knowing the whole while that Lando Norris has effectively ruined all other men for you.
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Six Months Later.
Your phone is ringing in the other room as you’re in the middle of recounting the kiss to your best friend for the millionth time.
“Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you apologize. “It might be important.”
Thinking it’s your editor, because who else would call you at this late hour, you don’t look at the caller ID before you answer. “Hi, listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”
“The love interest falls out of a tree, huh?”
Your mouth falls open. “Lando?”
“That would be me. Or should I change my name to Darren?”
You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I thought you were never going to call me.”
You’d finished your manuscript the day before you went home. He’d been sleeping right next to you as you wrote the final words, and you should’ve brought it up that morning. Instead, you left your number on his porch the day you left, too deep in overthinking mode to actually face him and properly say goodbye. You truly didn’t expect him to call you after that act of such cowardice, especially after the two of you spent almost the entirety of your last days together at various levels of undress.
“I really wanted to,” he admits. “At least ten different times. I think Oscar might have assaulted me if I chickened out this time.”
“Yeah, because you won’t shut the hell up about her!” A voice in the background exclaims, and you hear something go flying.
“Get out!” Lando snaps, and you can hear Oscar’s laughter fading.
“Sweet of you to subject him to hearing all about me.”
“Come to the race at Silverstone.” He says before you can even finish your sentence. “I’ll pay for the flight, the hotel, everything. Just come.”
You feel like the floor just fell out from under your feet. “Lan—”
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” It’s said in a nearly unintelligible whisper, but his tone changes so suddenly you have to sit down.
“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” You confess. “That’s… kind of why I wrote you into my book.”
“Please, come to Silverstone,” he repeats, practically begging. “Come be with me.”
And when he finds you in the crowd after taking the win at his home race, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours for everyone to see, you’re immediately taken back to those two weeks you spent in the Adirondacks, where you finally found the inspiration you’d been missing your entire life.
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note: this one goes out to my fellow writers who desperately wish their inspiration would fall out of a tree— writer’s block will never defeat us.
this got a little long, so if you’re reading this, thank you thank you thank you.
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @anathedivine @xfuckoffx @architect-2015 @violetiss3lfish @havaneselover08 @paigeworlds @whatever7justchillin @xoredmoonlightxo @dovieloovie @totowolffstablexoxo @maddie-bell @lalisgs11 @rrrraaaalllluuuu @formulasportworld @madisonbidaddy @anedpev @estherapz-blog @jess-wither @loveyatopluto @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @lou-larcher5 @clearlyabi @fizzpopsnap101 @fluerlaurent @mcmuppet @positiveaspirations @notturlover @crazymofo-96 @chanthereader @apollo-axolotl
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agendabymooner · 4 months
Text
SOMETHING CONVERSATIONAL !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: just two good friends having deep conversation… or just simply a heated conversation over a call.
💌 re:moony's planner request: "hi, can you write phone sex with carlos sainz?."
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, phone sex, dom!carlos x brat-ish!reader), masturbation (m and f), dirty talking, degrading + dumbification, friends with benefits type beat (with a hint of yearning), squirting, brief mentions of orgasm denial, extremely filthy i did not write this i promise.
note: my demons won today pls be proud of them. enjoy xx (also! please don't hesitate to give me your opinion or talk to me!!!)
ps: i’ve also been spending my time on character ai too much and i just subconsciously thought of being in a poly relationship with fernando and lewis… anyway… enjoy
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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she didn’t know what drove her to call him in the middle of the night. they were nothing but friends, after all. 
friends don’t usually call to check in… let alone to get off as if they hadn’t placed their labels below the expected standard (everyone could have sworn that they were dating; they both laughed at the thought while continuing to (eye) fuck each other.) 
so she had no clue why she was willing to submit to him no matter how far he was. she was willing to listen to every single thing he’d tell her.
did she want the orgasm or the attention? she wasn’t sure— but either of the reasons had something to do with him, and it was becoming worse for her yearning as she cursed beneath her breath. today had been the worst of all days for hers
she huffed quietly and got comfortable under her covers, but her exhaustion left soon enough that she became more frustrated and agitated. her frustration left her with the stupid idea of calling him. 
carlos sainz picked up at the second ring and she could practically hear his smirk through his voice as he greeted her, “shouldn’t it be past your bedtime now, bonita?” 
she rolled her eyes, “shouldn’t it be past yours?” she didn’t even think to say hi to him, instead she snarked back at him with the same amount of playfulness in her tone.
“no,” carlos hummed as he spoke with his usual deep tone, “in the hotel though. we just finished our media day duties.”
“nice,” she muttered, his voice sending signals straight to her brain as her legs involuntarily closed.
it was as if he knew what she wanted at this moment as carlos chuckled quietly, “i could get into details about what i’ve done today, but i don’t think you’re that interested in listening.”
she snapped out of her thoughts as she replied monotonously, “i’m a good listener. good friends come with good listening ears.” even carlos knew that she was lying. 
“uh huh,” carlos said as he held his phone closer. “and this good friend knows a lot about you.” 
“that right?” she taunted, feeling the tension between them rising no matter how far apart they were from each other. “what do you know then, good friend?” 
carlos scoffed, his domineering attitude getting the best of him as he smirked, “you’re getting too mouthy, princesa.” 
he nearly laughed at the sound of fabrics rustling from her side of the call, knowing that she was squirming in anticipation already. he could imagine her heart beating fast, waiting for him to make the next move as her face feigned innocence.
carlos always had the upper hand and they both knew that. they both knew who was in control and she was in no place to oppose. 
“you’re acting like this because you are so frustrated,” carlos deduced with a tut, “you’re talking back like you’d be able to handle the consequences of your attitude.”
her free hand had snaked down her nightdress as she felt her bare mound becoming more damp as she proceeded to push his buttons. she replied back, “maybe i’m just projecting my frustration onto you, carlos.”
“by acting like a brat?” carlos’ voice became more stern as he spoke lowly, “you know that begging is the best way to do that, bonita. if you wanted to release it, you should’ve asked nicer— you shouldn’t be touching yourself without permission like a fucking brat. take that pathetic hand off your pussy, princesa, i’m warning you now.” 
like an instinct, she immediately pulled her hand away from her wet cunt. she didn’t even realize that he picked up on it until she found herself writhing while she subconsciously toyed with her clit at the sound of him. 
carlos chuckled with a demeaning and teasing tone, “see? you do listen then. and i thought i’d have to deny you orgasms when i get back.” 
“carlos,” she whimpered, rubbing her thighs for friction as she listened to him laugh aloud. 
“oh, no no, bonita, you don’t get to ‘carlos’ me,” he replied with a mocking tone. “you don’t get to see me right now, bebe.”
“but i want to see you,” her lips trembled, her mind shifting away from reality to her submissive state. she continued, “i wanna see you touch yourself and your cock.”
“how badly?” he murmured sweetly. 
“so bad,” she mumbled through her phone, her pleading tone making carlos’ cock twitch as he continued to stroke himself slowly. 
carlos knew that he was torturing himself with the teasing, but he couldn’t find himself to stop as his sweet tone turned to a mocking one as he replied, “too bad.” 
he settled himself on his hotel bed as he spat on his palm and stroked his cock. he then instructed her, “go on then.” 
she seemed so lost as she asked, “what?”
carlos laughed haughtily, “don’t tell me you’re already dumb just thinking about getting your pussy fucked with my cock, princesa?” he then clicked his tongue, “touch yourself. i wanna hear you cum.” 
she wasn’t even sure anymore. she was just eager to please him and herself, her fingers gathering the wetness that oozed out of her cunt before she pressed down on her clit and moved them in circular motions. 
she bit her lip as she sighed, making carlos demand, “i wanna fucking hear you.” 
she elicited a whiny sigh as she continued to torture herself slowly. she told him, “i’m so wet.” 
“i can hear, baby,” carlos crooned, his own hand moving up and down his length before his thumb rubbed his thick tip. “i can hear your pretty pussy perfectly well.” 
“those noises that you make are making my cock throb really hard, bebe,” he muttered, earning a whimper of ‘fuck’ from the other side of the call as carlos continued, “they make me want to fly back and fuck you until you’re shaking and sore.” 
“mmm…” she cried out, feeling her hips rising to meet her rubbing fingers halfway through. “…fuck!” 
“your pussy— fuck, princesa,” carlos cursed, “it makes me want to see how fucking wet you will be the next time i fuck you everywhere in your place.”
carlos’ hand increased its pace as her breathing became rapid. carlos growled, “i want to hear you in person- i want to hear you screaming for my name because you’re a pathetic slut who’s desperate to cum all over my cock.” 
“o- oh, fuck,” she sobbed, “can i please fuck myself with my fingers? please, carlos?” she knew that she couldn’t risk not asking him to cum all over her own fingers. she was so lost that she needed his guide. 
carlos permitted her, “go on. put those two fingers inside of you, bonita. i want you to fuck yourself fast.” 
she immediately obliged, her middle and ring fingers scissoring inside her cunt as she wailed in pleasure. her fingers curled up against the sensitive spot inside of her as she uttered, “ah~ fuck~!” 
“it feels good, bonita?” carlos asked huskily as his breathing rapidly increased, stroking himself at the sounds that her squelching cunt made as she fucked herself at a pace that he wanted her to be. 
“mhm,” she nodded, not even realizing that he wasn’t there. “so good, ‘los. fuck.” 
“it’s not as good as mine, bebe,” he growled lowly, “when i get back i’m gonna be fucking that pussy of yours with something more bigger. gonna make sure you cum all over my mouth, my fingers and my cock— gonna make sure your bed’s all filthy from the mess that i’ll make of you.”
“car— los! fuck, i’m cumming,” she babbled as she pleaded, “can i please cum, carlos? please?”
“fuck, i’m cumming too, bonita,” he let out a deep groan as he demanded firmly, “cum all over your fingers, princesa. fucking cum.” 
she let out a high pitched whine, fucking herself through her orgasm as liquid trickled out of her pussy. her sheets were covered with her cum as her body shook before easing off. 
carlos came all over his stomach, groaning aloud as cum shot out of his cock.
both of them breathed heavily and rapidly, falling into silence as they gathered their thoughts and breathing. 
carlos then reached for his phone and asked, “you still there?”
“yuh huh,” she mumbled, laughing to herself before she said, “never came this much over the phone before. watching porn never worked this much either.” 
carlos chuckled, cleaning himself up as he spoke, “what can i say? i’m a miracle worker.” 
she scoffed playfully, “yeah right. okay.” 
perhaps there was a real reason why she called him in the first place. she just needed to see it for herself before realizing it. 
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msgexymunson · 9 months
Text
Forbidden Fruit Part 2
Description: Saying it's been awkward after your experience with Eddie Munson is an understatement. How will you survive a trip together? 
A/N: WELL, you liked the first part so much I had to write part 2! Potential for a part 3 and 4 if you guys want it. If you do y'all better reblog ;) 
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI or I'll tell a teacher on you, a LOT of angst, hella smut, fluff if you squint, voyeurism, spit play, hair pulling, fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex (don't be a dumb dumb) rough sex
4k words 
Masterlist  Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
It has been two weeks. Two weeks since your sordid encounter with your Dad's best friend. You thought about it every day, every hour. It has embedded itself into your mind like steel wool, an unscratchable itch that you're almost certain will never go away. 
You'd only seen Eddie twice in that whole time. That was odd in itself, he only lived across the road. He was usually around every couple of days, even if it was to just have a coffee and a chat with your father. It felt very much like he was trying to make himself scarce. 
The first time was barely even a glimpse; he'd been leaving his house as you'd been heading to college, driving there since it was close enough for you to still stay at home. You'd sent him a shy wave which was not returned. He just got in his car and reversed like a demon, tires screeching as he drove down the road. 
The second time you were in the kitchen on your tippy toes, trying to reach the cereal that someone had placed on the top shelf as if to spite you. Feeling eyes on you, you looked around and saw him standing in the doorway. 
"Eddie." 
He ignored it, strode in and grabbed the cereal box with ease, slamming it on the counter in front of you with too much force making you flinch. 
You tried again, fingers lightly resting on his arm. 
"Eddie, I-" 
"Don't." Was all he said, pulling his arm away as if you'd burned him. Tears had stung the corners of your eyes as he left without a look back. You'd abandoned your snack and ran upstairs to your room, to cry in peace. 
So it was no surprise at all when you overheard your Dad saying Eddie was coming over to watch the game and it felt like your stomach dropped out from under you. You hid in your room, not wanting to face another gruff encounter whilst your stomach rumbled its dissent. 
This is fucking stupid. He'd said that was it, you need to get over it. You shouldn't be scared to go into your own damn kitchen. 
Steeling your nerves you go downstairs and start to make yourself a sandwich. You could hear Eddie's laugh echo from the TV room and it twisted a knife in your gut. 
Your dad's voice rang out over the noise of the TV. 
"You free next weekend Eddie?" 
Oh fucking shit. You knew what he was talking about. You pray that Eddie says he's busy. 
"Free as a bird, why what's happening?" 
"Mandy's invited us to her lake house for the long weekend. You fancy a trip?" 
Even from here you can sense Eddie's hesitation. 
"Oh, I'm not sure that's a good idea?" 
"Why? It'll be fun! I'm sure Mandy's got a thing for you, you know." 
"Yeah, sure, I suppose I could come." 
Fuck. 
********************
Cue the most uncomfortable car ride in your life, squashed in the back seat with Eddie and thankfully a duffel bag in between providing a slight buffer. He was hunched in his seat, barely making eye contact with you. 
Your mom turned in the passenger seat to face you. 
"You alright Hon? You've hardly said a word." 
"I'm fine, mom." 
"You know, Jake will probably be there, Mandy's boy?" She waggled her eyebrows at you. 
Rolling your eyes, you reply, "he's a little, young for me." 
"He's a year older than you! I thought you liked him?" 
"He's fine, it's just… he's a boy." And I need a man. One particular man. 
You couldn't fail to hear Eddie's snorting laugh that he tried to disguise as a cough. 
As you arrive at the lake house, you rush out of the car to breathe air that wasn't laced with the scent of Eddie. Your thighs hurt from squeezing them together for the past two hours. 
"Hey! Welcome!" Mandy's waving at you all as you get your bag from the car. 
Your mom runs over and gives her a hug. 
"Hey! So good to see you! Where's Jake?" 
"Oh, he's come down with something, poor boy, he couldn't make it." 
Well, there goes the plan you had wistfully thought of to make Eddie jealous. 
Mandy shows everyone to their rooms. The lake house is gorgeous. Mandy must have gotten some huge settlement from her divorce. Your room is small but comfortable, a double bed, wardrobe and side tables all in a deep wood. The walls are wood panelled too, carvings of little animals and leaves all over. It puts you in mind of being in an enormous cuckoo clock. 
Changing into your swimsuit, you grab a towel and head towards the lake for a swim. 
This felt better. At least you could cool off, trying to escape the heat from the sun as well as the heat between your legs. The water is crisp and cold as you swim until you're shivering. 
As you exit the water, arms tired, you look up to see Eddie on the deck, watching you. 
You need to speak with him, try and clear the air. Moving towards him he stubs the cigarette he'd been smoking out and turns on his heel back to the house. 
Anger started to bubble up, acidic in your throat. How dare he give you the most amazing sex of your life and just throw you away like some slut. You'd eaten in your room that night, feigning exhaustion. 
Tip toeing out to grab a drink from downstairs thinking everyone had gone to bed, you hear the tinkle of laughter. 
There he was, sitting on the couch with Mandy. She was fawning over him pathetically, her hand stroking his arm that rested on the back of the seat. 
Great. Just great. Now he'll fuck Mandy and get married and live right opposite you with her. Fantastic. 
Grabbing a water you flounced off to bed in a huff. 
********************
Sitting up at the breakfast bar, you'd plastered your bravest face on and ate some pancakes, cutting them into little pieces and nibbling like a rabbit. 
Eddie sauntered in, saying good morning to everyone, then he was taking a seat on the bar stool opposite you. 
"Morning sweetheart." 
You flashed angry eyes at him, and looked away, delivering a clipped "morning." 
It was enough to shut him up. He filled a plate with pancakes and bacon, picking up a rasher and tearing into it with his teeth. Then he did the same with a pancake, ripping it into four and shoving a piece in his mouth.  
He looked like a caveman. It was half amusing, and half a turn on. Watching him eat like an animal was doing something for you. 
Mandy looked less amused. 
"Um, there is cutlery, right there." She snipped. 
"I know." He ignored the knives and forks, picking up the next piece of bacon and plunging it into his mouth. Your mom and dad shared an amused look. 
He licked bacon grease off his fingers while looking straight at you, making your cheeks rapidly grow in heat. All you could think was that you wanted to wrestle that piece of bacon out of his mouth with your tongue, to smear your greasy lips together and have him throw you down on the counter top and fuck you until you see stars. 
"Just going to get ready." You mumble, excusing yourself. 
God damn why am I so wet? A shower, that'll help. 
You stand under the stream of slightly too cold water and try to wrench the images away, but they are coming thick and fast. 
Greasy fingers running over your skin. That tongue turning you into a whimpering mess. Plates smashing on the floor, food flying everywhere as he lifts you on the counter top and fucks you like an animal. The shower head was looking extremely tempting right now. 
Right, get it out of your system, then face the day. 
You unclip the shower head and turn the heat up slightly, moving the warm stream of water to your expectant lips. The water makes you gasp as you move the shower head around, finding your clit with a whimper. 
And then the door flies open. Eddie stands there, frozen, face blushed the deepest pink. 
You shout, "don't you know how to knock??" At the same time Eddie's rather hoarse voice yells "are you trying to kill me??" 
Quickly exiting, he slams the door shut. 
You hear your father call up to ask what's wrong. Eddie's muffled voice responds. 
"Nothing, I just made your daughter jump." 
The clipped emphasis on the word daughter rings in your head. You're unsure for whose benefit that was. 
Am I trying to kill him? He's the one that barged in on me!! Why the fuck is he upset? 
For the rest of the day you ignore him, opting to spend some quality time with your mom, attempting to push the weird encounter out of your head. 
In the evening your parents announce they are going into town to a bar with Mandy. 
"Eddie, you coming?" Your dad asks. 
"No, I'm good, got a headache. Think I'll have an early night." 
When everyone leaves you retire to your room, putting on some music and reading a book. You start to drift away, losing yourself in the words, feeling comfortable and less on edge. 
There's a soft knock at the door. Ignoring it, you flick to the next page. Another, more insistent knock. Huffing and pulling your silk dressing gown around you, making sure everything important is covered, you shout out.
 "Yeah?" 
The door opens, and Eddie's standing there, looking very sorry for himself. He's only wearing a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, muscular frame and tattoos fully displayed. 
"Can I come in?" 
"So you can knock. What do you want?" 
"Look, I want to apologise to you, I've been acting like an asshole."
You nod in agreement, eyes going back to your book, words a blur.
"You really have a headache?" 
"No." 
"Shame."  
"Mandy kissed me last night, invited me back to her room." 
Why the fuck is he telling you this? 
"Oh yeah? how was she?" You spit back, venom lacing each word. 
"I wouldn't know, I didn't go." 
Speechless, you return his gaze. He comes into your room, shutting the door behind him, but doesn't move any further. 
"Sweetheart, I can't stop thinking about you, about what we did. I've been fucking my fist like a teenager thinking about you. That's why I've been avoiding you. I smelled your perfume the other day and I got fuckin' hard. You weren't even there. It's pathetic." 
A small smile creeps onto your face, smug to have had such an effect on him. You sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your hands as he explains further. 
"I really want you, but we can't do this. It's so wrong. If your dad finds out I'm a dead man." 
"Hey, he'll kill me too!" You respond. 
"No sweetheart. He'd be disappointed in you. I'd be blamed for it. For- for defiling his daughter!" 
You laugh out loud at that and his lips quirk into a nearly smile. 
"You make it sound like you forced yourself on me. I kissed you first." 
"True, but I asked. If I hadn't-" 
"Eddie, trust me, sooner or later, I would have jumped your bones." 
"Really?" He asks, surprised. 
"Really. You're super hot." You admit.
His hand rubs the back of his neck compulsively. You see the nerves then, etched into his features, deepening the fine lines on his face. 
Just his sheer presence is making your pussy pulse. 
He walks over to you, standing over your form. Staring up at him, he looks like he wants to devour you whole. 
"We can't do this, you know." He says again, but his hand is reaching to the tie of your dressing gown, pulling it undone. The flimsy fabric parts down your middle, showing a sliver of skin from your chest to your navel. 
You nod back, breath hitching in your throat. "Yeah, we really shouldn't." 
You let the dressing gown slip over your shoulder, exposing your left side, pert breast on display. Eddie groans. 
"This is wrong." But his hand has other plans, sliding the other side off of your shoulder, so you're sitting there completely naked for him, gown pooling around your back. 
"Yep. Super wrong. Naughty." You say, legs parting slightly. Eddie's smirk is debaucherous as he sinks to his knees in front of you, pulling your legs even wider. 
Preamble forgotten, he forces his head between your legs and licks a fat stripe up your cunt. Throwing your head back at the onslaught of his tongue, you dig your heels into his back, forcing him closer if it were even possible. 
"How the fuck," he says between dirty kisses to your clit, "do you taste so fucking good?" 
He doesn't seem to want an answer, and you're entirely not in the position to provide one. You just mewl and buck into his face pathetically, lacing your fingers into his hair and gripping on. 
His tongue is everywhere, devouring you. It's messy, messier than you ever thought getting head could be. You could feel his spit and your own juices dripping down the crevice of your ass. 
Legs quivering, you moan wantonly, gripping onto him with everything you have. He's moaning into you, almost as loud as you were. 
Then he's pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit, his firm hands gripping your ass, grinding your body against his face. The pure, unbridled need pouring from him had you toppling over that edge.
"Holy fucking shit, Eddie!" 
The intensity and power of your orgasm shocks you to your core, spilling out in a slew of profanities, limbs twitching uncontrollably. 
Eddie doesn't stop licking into you until you drag him away by his hair.
Eddie's face is a picture, dripping with slick; his smile is broad, lighting up his face as if he'd just been to heaven and tasted the finest ambrosia. 
He leans over you, hooking one finger into your mouth, pulling at your jaw. 
"Open." 
Your jaw flops open at his command. He spits then, directly into your mouth. Eyes widening in surprise, you taste the savoury edge of his spit intermingled with the sweet tang of your cunt as it slides down your tongue. 
"Swallow." He orders, eyes dark. 
You close your lips around his finger, swallowing hard and sucking the tip of his finger. 
"Fuck you are perfect, my dirty fucking girl." He says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
You moan at his words, breath speeding up, feeling dizzy and hot all over. 
"You like that don't you? Being a dirty girl?" He smirks. 
"I like being yours." You admit, feeling slightly bashful.
He cups your face gently with his hand, a queer look in his eye, before leaning towards your ear and whispering, "mine." 
Writhing under him, pinned by his body, you can only whimper as he sinks teeth into your neck. 
Pushing a needy tongue in your mouth, he gives you an earth shattering kiss, of salt and cigarettes and sweetness. You reciprocate, hands running over naked flesh as you push your chest against him.
 "I need you. Now." He says as he climbs off, frantically pulling his sweatpants off and flinging them to the side, his impressive member standing almost painfully to attention. 
You give a startled yelp as he grabs you by the ankles and flips you over. 
"Hands and knees for me, my good girl." 
You scramble on all fours, waiting for the breach of his tip, when you feel his thumb press on your asshole. 
"Fuck, Eddie!" You shout. It had made you jump, but you couldn't deny that you liked it. 
"Bet you'd let me fuck you in the ass if I asked sweetheart." Entirely unprepared for that, you whip your head around. He just laughs. 
"Don't worry, not tonight baby." He says as he rubs his tip over your folds, spreading your wetness even further. 
Then he's pushing and pushing into you, balls deep. You both let out a groan of satisfaction as he starts ploughing into you hard and rough.  
"This pussy is fuckin unreal," you hear him mutter behind you, gripping on your hips so tight its bordering on painful. You allow yourself to be used, pushing back into him as much as you can, but it's impossible keeping up with his brutal pace. 
Feeling your hands stiff against the bed,  your elbows are shaking, on the edge of giving up. You feel Eddie's hand gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail and twist it in his hand, pulling you upright. A lightning bolt shoots down your spine at the animalistic gesture. 
He's now hitting that sweet spot inside you on each thrust, the slapping of skin and slick echoing through the room with your pornographic moans. 
"Oh God, Eddie, I'm gonna come-" 
"No, no please," he slows, letting go of your hair, making you fall to the bed. 
"I need to see it, I need to see you. Turn around." 
You turn, feeling him slip out of you, and shove him to the side, hard. It takes him entirely by surprise and he falls onto his back, hands up as if he's afraid he did something wrong. 
Taking his shock as an opportunity you clamber on his lap, gripping his swollen cock hard at the base, lining him up with your entrance. Eddie's look of surprise turns into a lecherous grin, hands resting on your waist. 
Sitting on him, sheathing him once again within your silky walls, you look him in the eye.
"How dare you mess with my orgasm again." Your words are hard, but you're smiling. 
He laughs, rubbing at your hips. 
"Oh I'm sorry, my poor sweetheart," words positively dripping sarcasm, complete with pouting lower lip. Clenching around his cock, you struggle to even register that him mocking you is such a turn on.
You push at his chest with one hand, and start grinding into him, firm and slow. Eddie looks like he's about to bust already at your movements, eyes darting from your own, to your tits, to your cunt. 
"What- what were you thinking of? In the shower?" His words have a quiver to them, a flash of pride bursts across your chest at the fact you're doing this to him, getting him in such a state.
"I was thinking," you say breathlessly, "about tongue wrestling that bit of bacon out of your mouth and you fucking me on the kitchen counter." 
"Fuuuck" He replies, eyes rolling back, "you are something else." 
All of a sudden it's hitting just right. You don't feel like you'd moved but it's definitely different. Your whole body is buzzing with sensation as you roll your hips against him. Needing to grip onto something, anything, you don't risk changing the angle and instead twine your fingers into your own hair. 
"Oh my God, oh fuckfuckfuck!" 
Eddie's mouth hangs open as he watches you unravel. You feel your entire body pulse out what may be the best orgasm of your life. It rolls in waves around you, over you, through you. Grinding down hard, you keep it going. And going. Until it stops, or nearly stops. It's as if you are looking down at that edge yet again, on the brink of falling off. 
"Fuck Eddie don't you dare move," you struggle out, rubbing over him, juices squelching obscenely with each thrust of your hips. He's beyond words, just biting his lip and nodding. 
"Oh fuck I'm gonna come again, oh!" 
Screaming into the night, it forces out of you again, almost as powerful as the last one. Your whole body is shaking like a leaf, completely stunned. Realising you're still gripping into your hair, you let go, feeling a sting on your scalp. 
"Holy shit." You laugh out, limbs convulsing of their own accord. 
"That was, fuck sweetheart, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life." 
You smile, fingers stroking up and down his chest. 
"Think you can give me one more?" He asks, eyebrows raising. 
"Eddie, I don't-" 
"Shh, sweetheart, just one more, I'm gonna come, come with me." 
You begin to grind, moving against his length once more, clit dragging across slickened hair making you whimper. Your legs are protesting but you want to give it to him. 
He helps you, hands on your hips dragging you back and forth, praising every thrust. 
"That's it baby." 
"Just a little more." 
"You can take it." 
"My good sweet girl." 
Until you release again, together, wetness squirting out of you, voice hoarse with a stuttered moan that seemed to bubble up from deep inside your chest cavity. Eddie groans out, hissing at the feeling as he releases his cum deep into your cunt. 
Melting, a puddle of a woman, your body pours over his, bones a distant memory. 
"I think my soul left my body for a minute there," you murmur into his sweaty neck. His laugh rumbles from his chest and vibrates into yours, hand resting sweetly on the back of your head. 
Both laying there for a minute, you know what needs to happen, but you're loath to admit it. Reality is looming and neither of you want to look it in the eye. 
Eddie breaks the spell. 
"I need to go sweetheart," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.
"I know." You whisper back. Neither of you move. 
"Did you mean it?" You ask, voice as small as you can muster. 
"What?"
"That I'm yours?" 
You feel Eddie's breath, the silence stretching just a little too much. You stop breathing in anticipation. Finally, he responds. 
"Yes. Yes I meant it." 
Masterlist
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delulujuls · 3 months
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his eyes | mv33
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hi! you asked about part two for the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess so i delivered (its still hot, fresh from the oven). i'm not sure if i like it but don't worry, for sure i will write something about the mad dutch duo in the future. but now enjoy this one!
summary: eyes can say a lot so where it comes to reveal feelings there is no place to hide
warnings: none, mentions of car accident
pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen
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Max's eyes were beautiful.
They were always beautiful when they had small wrinkles around them caused by smiling. Always then, they were the color of a cloudless sky on a warm july morning. They were beautiful even when there was a storm raging inside. They were dark and agitated then, but still beautiful. But they were beautiful in a terrifying way, because at that moment there was no trace of a smile on Max's face, and the only warmth was the rage burning in his veins.
Y/N could have sworn she had never met another pair of eyes like Max's, so whenever she could, she allowed herself to drown in them. Even during arguments, when they were shouting and calling each other names, his eyes were beautiful. However, they lost all their beauty when they were struck by fear.
When Max was scared, his eyes faded. The july sky was covered with clouds and the turbulent sea was shrouded in fog. Y/N stopped noticing the fear in Max's eyes when he managed to break free from his toxic father and their karting years ended, replaced by Formula 1.
However, on that day when she woke up in the ambulance, the first thing she encountered was the cloudy sky in his eyes. Max wasn't scared; he was terrified to the core. When, after a few seconds, his brain acknowledged that his friend was alive, he sighed with relief. The sky began to clear.
"I never thought I'd be so happy to see those deceitful eyes of yours."
Verstappen smiled, squeezing his friend's hand.
"What happened?"
She asked with difficulty. Her throat hurt terribly; the hot smoke and fumes had taken their toll.
"You had an accident and lost consciousness. We'll be at the hospital soon."
"Accident is an understatement," a paramedic interjected, removing her drip from the hanger "You did a Grosjean from Bahrain 2020."
Y/N blinked several times and it took her a moment to connect the dots. Judging by the man's comparison, her accident must have been truly unpleasant.
"How's the car?"
"Just needs a wipe."
She rolled her eyes at her friend's words, and a moment later, she coughed. Quickly, she put her oxygen mask back on.
"Don't worry about the car," Max said, still holding her hand. "The most important thing is that you're back with us."
"At what cost? At least, being unconscious spared me from looking at you."
She replied sarcastically, pulling the mask slightly away from her face. Max chuckled quietly at her words, relieved that she still had the strength to joke after everything. She returned his smile. She still didn't fully grasp what had happened or what she had been involved in, but the feeling inside her body told her it must have looked bad. The last time she saw fear in Max's eyes was years ago.
But something had changed after that. Since her accident, she noticed that Max's eyes looked at her differently. In a way she had never seen before, a way she couldn't compare to anything else. They looked at her with unimaginable gentleness and tenderness. They looked at her with love.
"You're damn stubborn, you know that?"
Max said when barely two weeks after the accident Y/N, using crutches, appeared in his garage. He didn't say it maliciously; he was just genuinely worried. He put down his water bottle and approached his friend, gently hugging her and pulling up a chair for her.
"I'm glad to see you too."
She replied, leaning her crutches against the chair and sitting on the workbench.
Max sighed and shook his head. Since the accident, Y/N had been a constant source of concern for him.
"What?" she asked, glancing at him, "I'm not getting into the car, don't worry."
"You should be resting."
"I am resting, see?" Y/N pointed to her makeshift seat, "More comfortable than a bed."
Max was about to reply, but he was called to take his place in the car. Friends exchanged glances one last time and as he left the garage, Y/N hopped off the bench and approached Christian's workstation, taking a seat next to him. He smiled at her and handed her headphones.
"Good to see you, Y/N."
"Some would prefer me not to be here."
She replied, glancing at the monitor. Christian smiled at the thought of Max, who was very concerned about his friend.
"He was really worried about you, like we all were."
"I guess I'm just not used to Verstappen seeing more than the tip of his own nose."
The man laughed at her words. She was absolutely right; Max's reputation could be unpredictable. However, lately, his behavior had changed noticeably, evident to everyone in the paddock.
When the training session ended, friends returned to the hotel. Max kept pace with Y/N, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Moving on crutches wasn't problematic for her, though.
"Don't look at me like I'm an eighty-year-old grandma."
She said, seeing his gaze as they reached her room and she plopped onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
"I'm not looking at you like that. We both know that you are slower than this only in a car."
Y/N grabbed a pillow and threw it at him and he laughed, effortlessly catching it. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, but Y/N lowered her gaze when she noticed his eyes doing it again. Looking at her in that way.
"Christian said you were worried" the girl said, after a moment gathering enough courage to look at him again, "Really?"
"I thought I was pulling a corpse out of that wreck. Of course I was worried."
She lowered her gaze again, focusing on her hands. Max squeezed the pillow in his hands and sat next to her.
"Thank you."
She said softly. Even though she had thanked him earlier, she knew that no amount of gratitude would match the level of his deed. She turned her head towards him and their gazes met again. He smiled.
"I knew you'd do the same. You've always got my back, no matter how angry you are with me."
Y/N snorted and nodded. Max was absolutely right. Although some time had passed since the accident, they hadn't had a chance to talk about it. Not about the accident itself, but about what changed between them. Because something definitely had changed.
"Can I ask you something?"
She spoke up, glancing at him. He nodded.
"Did what happened change anything between us?"
"What do you mean?"
Max tensed a bit. Although he didn't move an inch, after so many years spent together, you could pick up every detail.
"You're behaving differently toward me."
She explained. He looked at her attentively.
"You're more affectionate. I've never felt something like that from you before."
Max lowered his head and interlaced his fingers. He wasn't sure how to put into words what had been swirling in his head for some time and growing stronger with each passing day. So, he decided to go for honesty.
"When I was pulling you out of the car, I had no idea if you were alive. Riding in the ambulance, I wondered if I would ever be able to talk to you again and apologize for that senseless argument."
He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands.
"When you woke up and looked at me, I thought I'd cry with happiness. That's when I realized how much you mean to me and how important you are."
Y/N stayed silent, trying to absorb all the words he had spoken. She could feel the emotions quickening her pulse, so she decided to lighten the mood a bit and probe whether they were on the same page.
"If you had kissed me, I probably would have woken up faster."
Max felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. He blinked several times and looked at his friend. She just smiled slightly.
"Kissed?"
She nodded.
For a moment, Max struggled to open his mouth to say something, but to no avail. He was in too much shock.
"Are you setting me up now?"
"I'm not setting you up, Max."
"Yes, like if I had kissed you back then, you would have woken up faster. But only to punch me in the face."
She laughed and fell back on the pillows, pretending to be dead.
"You have to check it yourself."
Max wondered for a moment if she was joking, but he didn't have time for further contemplation. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her. He leaned on his elbow next to her head and looked at her face. Her gaze and a faint smile indicated that it wasn't just a silly joke.
Without hesitation, Max lightly touched her cheek and kissed her. She smiled and hugged him around the neck, returning the kiss.
When they separated for a moment to catch their breath, the eyes of the two met again and Y/N once again allowed herself to drown in the boundless blue of his eyes. The turbulent sea was calm and the july, sunny sky was cloudless. Everything was fine.
Everything was just how it supposed to be.
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lucyandalexiafan · 4 months
Text
Car ride home | Alexia Putellas x reader
Summary: you have a big crush on Alexia, everyone makes jokes about this but Ale doesn't seem to understand, and you have to come back (to your) home with her after a three-day camp. What could possibly happen? Warnings: little "sexual" contact (hand on inner things), allusion to sex, little age gap not defined (something like five or six years).
Words: 2018.
Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!
“Are you coming home with me, little one?”
 I blush and try to protest.
 “Don't try, you won't take two trains to come back to Barcelona after a three-day camp”
The authoritative tone, an eyebrow raised as if she is daring me to protest.
I nod looking at her.
The others giggle.
Mapi messes up my hair.
She smiles mischievously.
She hugs me.
"See you Monday"
Behind her Ingrid waves her hand to greet me, a sweet smile on her face.
Ale snorts and there is more laughter, I look at the ground embarrassed.
“None of them will ever do something anyway” Marta adds.
I look at her, eyes slightly wider open.
Why do they keep insisting on joking about this?
Ona grabs my shoulder, laughing under her breath.
“Won’t you?”
“And that's it - Ale replies irritated – Bebita, do you have everything?”
I nod, slightly intimidated by the tone.
Is she mad at me?
I grab my bag and wave to the others, then follow her towards her SUV.
The trunk is already open.
She put her suitcase on the right, I put mine on the left and, on top of it, my backpack; I just take from it my phone before sitting next to her.
“I'm not mad at you, little one”
I blush at the nickname, looking at my hands.
“I'm sorry they always make jokes” I whisper guiltily, as if it were my fault.
It was so complicate bonding with her. She was the most reluctant to talk to me or communicate with me, the one that was cold from the beginning and very strict on the field; but she was like that only with me.
I had a crush on her even before we played together, but I never said it to her.
The fear of making mistakes is a constant in my friendship with her.
The fear of saying one word too much, making a rude joke or being intrusive.
The fear of ruining the friendship.
“Don't worry - she turns on the car - Put on some music, would you?”  She asks, handing me her cell phone.
I grab it, thinking about how the others had reacted when they saw me unlock it to change the song in the locker room when she asked me to.
How much they gossiped because no one knew her phone password. Not even Mapi knew it.
I put on a quiet 80s song that I know she likes.
Her free hand, due to the automatic control machine, is on her thigh.
After a while she points me to a town that can be seen from the road, she tells me that she had played one of her first women's soccer matches there.
Then, casually, she places her hand on my knee.
I hold my breath trying to act normal even though my heart is racing.
The thumb caresses my skin left bare by the short shorts.
“Did you enjoy the camp?”
“Mh?”  I ask, her eyes focused on his hand.
“If it bothers you, I'll take it off,” she whispers, giggling, her gaze fixed on the road.
“I… no, it doesn't bother me - the face getting hot - sorry”.
She chuckles turning left.
The hand goes up a little.
I move my leg towards her seat, spreading them apart.
She smiles slyly.
If possible, I am even more embarrassed by the gesture.
But I've been dreaming about this contact for months. A less innocent, less friendly, physical contact, something more than a hug.
I'm doing it wrong?
The next song starts and is her favorite.
“This is beautiful, I love it”
I smile nodding.
Her thumb pet my skin just under my shorts.
This is the first time we have had this contact.
What does it mean?
“So the camp?
Did you like it?"
I nod vigorously.
I turn towards her with my torso and her hand goes higher, about halfway up my thigh, under my shorts.
Fingers touching the inside of the thigh.
I gasp in surprise.
I try to recover quickly. “The… yes, it was n-nice” I reply, swallowing my saliva.
A nail scrapes across my skin and I feel a knot in my belly.
I gasp.
She starts talking about camp.
Of what I liked.
Of what could have been done better.
Of the coach.
I am too focused on her hand, on the humidity between my legs and concentrating on breathing to listen to her.
How long have you wanted this contact?
It means something doesn't it?
I mean, why else would it mean touching my inner thigh?
We had gotten closer in the last two months, it's true. We live six hundred meters from each other and, since I don't have a car, she accompanied me to the training and home quite every day.
But I didn't think she could look at me like that. She never showed any signs of it and she always said that I was too young, even though in the team there were relationships with multiple years of age difference. The others laughed about it and kept making more or less veiled jokes about the fact that we spent so much time together.
After a while of always seeing me arriving and going home with Ale, watching the way that we interact, the girls with whom I had bonded most in the few months since the beginning of my first year at Barcelona had asked me if I liked her.
I was at Lucy and Ona's house for a movie night, but I realized it was a trap the moment I entered the apartment and saw only the two that were living there, Aitana, Caro and Marta. I mean, it was a weird combination of people for a movie night knowing that Aitana is a person who talks a lot during movies, while Marta and Caro want absolute silence, and most of the team love the movie night, so why did there were few of them during a Thursday night?
I blushed as I looked at the ground when Aitana asked it; what I was supposed to say? Lying when it was so obvious to them was not the best decision, so I didn’t say something. After a few seconds Lucy hugged me giggling and Ona, while she was cooking, told me that "obviously she's feeling the same".
“We'll be home in ten minutes” she whispers.
I nod, snapping out of my thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?"
I observe her.
She smiles looking at the road.
Why is she so beautiful?
“I… nothing important”.
“Everything you think is important, little one”
I bite my lip.
She had started calling me that after dinner at her house, one of those we shared at the end of training when we came home late and didn't feel like eating alone, when I told her that I liked it as a nickname.
She had started using it in front of everyone after a couple of weeks and it was so nice to know that she had a nickname just for me; sometimes, when Ale is using it in front of Mapi, Mapi begins calling me the same, making jokes about us.
“Maybe you think of a boy or girl?”
I raise my eyebrow and she looks at me.
“Maybe you are thinking to someone, you're young and there's nothing wrong”
“Are you thinking of anyone?” I asked quickly without answering her.
I freeze at the idea that she does it and the person is not me.
Her hand rises higher when she stops abruptly the car in front of a traffic light; her middle finger which, if it were fully extended, would touch my soaked panties.
I moan at the idea.
I close my eyes.
“Actually, there is a person”
I widen my eyes.
I watch her.
“At first I tried to pretend that I didn't like her because she's younger than me and I've never had something with younger people-“
“You talk as if you were fifty,” I reply.
“Well, I'm twenty-nine.”
“How many does he have?”
“She - she replies - She, it's a she”
I bite my lip.
Even worse.
Overtaken by a woman.
A cursed and lucky woman.
“When… when did you understand?”
I hesitate when her fingers start to move exploring my inner thigh, my groin.
Why is she doing this to me if she has someone else on her mind?
“You know, for a series of reasons we found ourselves very close for a couple of days and at the end I had to accept that I like her - she smiles - And from there I look for every opportunity to talk to her or be together”
“She is a lucky girl,” I whisper.
She asks me to repeat when the car stops at a red traffic light.
Is possible that all the traffic lights are red?
The universe hates me.
Her eyes in mine.
I get lost watching her.
She is so beautiful… so perfect.
Her eyes, her nose, her cheeks…
“Mh?”
I open and close my mouth a couple of times when I feel her fingers brush the elastic of my underwear.
Should I move away?
I want it so bad, but I don't want her to do something with me just because maybe she can't be with that girl.
“She's lucky, the girl – whisper – Does she know?”
She giggles.
“You know, I don't think she has any idea of ​​the effect she has on me”
I close my eyes.
“She is so innocent and she gets embarrassed so often that her cheeks are always red… they are so adorable”
The gaze returns to the road.
She turns the wheel with one hand, turning left again.
She's so hot while she's driving.
Her fingers move, touching my skin.
But…
“She's a bit shy, but with the rest of the team she's much more relaxed than with me… I think I make her a bit uncomfortable”
Team?
I turn to her, her eyes wide, when I realize she's talking about me.
Cheeks on fire.
Is this happening?
“I can smell your arousal up here little girl – she tells me, looking at me while she parks the car under her house – You are so sensitive”
I gasp for air when she runs her tongue over her lower lip
I hold my breath when the tip of her finger goes under my underwear.
“Can I kiss you little one?”
I widen my eyes at the request.
I nod quickly.
She kisses me.
It's a slow kiss at first.
The lips playing with each other, the tongues coming into contact.
Her lips are soft.
The other hand, the one that is not between my legs, caresses my cheek.
Such a sweet gesture and in contrast to what she did throughout the trip.
I gasp as she moves the hand down my neck.
She smiles on my lips.
She breaks the kiss slightly.
I look at her scared, eyes open.
What if she just wanted to kiss me?
If it's not-
“Tell me you want me to stop and I'll stop — I shake my head at her, her hand still on my neck — Or tell me you want it and we'll go to my apartment.”
I nod.
I bite my lip.
I try to kiss her, but she moves her head away, the hand on my neck squeezing lightly.
I moan.
“The words little girl”
I moan loudly.
I squeeze my thighs together, her hand closed in the grip of my thighs.
“Can we go to your apartment?  Please?"
She smiles before kissing me hard.
She turns off the car and takes the keys out of the car.
I get out of the car at the same time as her and she locks it.
I start to walk to the building but she grabs my hand.
Her lips are immediately on mine, her hand caressing my cheek.
I moan when the other grabs my hip covered only by my t-shirt.
She smiles.
“So sensitive”
I bite my lip blushing while she grins openly.
Hi! This is my first fanfic and the first time that I try to write something in English that is not for school, so please be kind ahah; if you find some mistakes or if you have some advice write to me pls:)
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
Text
cold nights // part four
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summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: this is your reminder to reblog and comment on fics you like!! it helps us writers out a TON the girlies who get it get it. thanks!!
series masterlist // playlist
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"I just have to ask you a few questions... is that okay?" Coriolanus asks, sitting across from you at the small table you find yourself chained to.
"Please." You nod, grinning at him. You were so tired, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough of that. Screw getting you food- Coryo is worried if you don't sleep you'll be all but useless in the games, even if all he needs you to do is run and hide.
"It's just so people can get to know you a bit better. Okay, so..." He looks down at the sheet in front of him, tapping the pencil against the table as he tries to focus on reading. "First, nice and easy, what is your full name?"
"Y/N M/N L/N."
"Great... Okay, and where are you from?"
"District Twelve, born and raised."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen next week." You smile.
"Oh, really?" He asks, pausing mid-sentence as he starts writing it down.
"Yeah." You smile. "Hopefully I'll live to see the day."
"You will." He tries to be reassuring as he scribbles the finished answer on his sheet. God, you got unlucky. Not that his eighteenth was a big celebration like some of his classmates, but Tigris made him a cake with ingredients she'd been saving up for and she refit his school uniform for him. You wouldn't even have that- you would be spending the day fighting for your life, if you even made it that long.
"And who is in your family unit?" He reads directly from the slip as he forces himself to move on.
"Well, there's me, my brother, he's fifteen, and then my ma and pa." You nod. "Well, my pa isn't home much. Lots of work in the mines; usually has sixteen-hour days. I hardly ever see him." You admit, sadness laced into your tone. "Saw him, I mean."
"My father died in Twelve." Coryo says, catching you off guard. He doesn't even fully understand why he felt the need to tell you this. "About ten years ago, it was rebels."
"I remember that." You reply quietly, recalling the lockdown placed on the District after the murder of a peacekeeper general. "He was the general. Crassus Snow, I assume?"
"Yes."
Everyone was forced into their homes at gunpoint, and in search of the responsible parties everyone you knew had their home destroyed by peacekeepers. Yourself included. Your bed was torn apart, and your mattress shredded for any hidden weapons or plans. Since then, you have shared a bed with your brother. A new mattress was hard to make, and your ma never got the free time or materials again.
Up until this week, that was the scariest day of your life. Just before the peacekeepers kicked in your door, your mother had grabbed the two of you and shoved you into an opening under the floorboards- a crawlspace made from a faulty foundation. You were in there for what felt like hours, listening to shouting and your home being ruined as you held onto each other with a hand pressed over your brother's mouth to keep him from crying too loud. Your mother's cries that day never seemed to end.
"It's a small world." You say after a solid few moments of silence, and Coryo can see it in the way you're staring at his paper that you're not reading it. You're zoned out completely. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It must have been scary."
"The war was hard on all of us." He responds. "What... what do you remember?" He had never heard anything about it besides the bare bones of what happened, he had never considered that the people of Twelve would remember it as well. And judging by the look on your face, it wasn't a good memory.
"I was about six, maybe seven, and I was playing with my brother, and I didn't hear anything but my ma must have because she grabbed us and hid us under the floorboards so fast I could have got whiplash. Peacekeepers came into our home, tore the whole thing to shreds, hurt my ma, then took off. Onto the next house. I didn't find out until a while later that rebels killed the peacekeeper general, they were looking for any evidence of conspiracy, I guess. The people who did it."
"Sounds like it was scarier for you than for me."
"But I want you to know," You speak so quickly you almost cut him off. "My parents had nothing to do with it. My pa is an honest, good man. All he ever wanted was to keep us safe. We're not rebels, I promise you that."
Coriolanus almost wishes you were, so he wouldn't be so hurt by what his people were putting you through. "I know. I wouldn't blame you for that."
"Thank you." You whisper, picking at your nails now as you look down at your shaky hands.
Coryo clears his throat, forcing himself to look away from you. "Uh..." He chuckles at the next question, making you look up at him again. "Are you married?"
"No." You reply, having almost completely forgotten about the worksheet in front of him. "I'm not."
"It's just... I just, I have to ask." He says, clearing his throat as he writes it down.
"Of course." You nod in understanding.
"Boyfriend?" He asks, and as you squint at the sheet you can see it's not there, and he quickly covers the next lines with his palm, cheeks flushing pink.
"Yes." You giggle as he snaps his head up to look at you.
"You do?" He asks, voice catching as his curls fall back onto his forehead from the sudden movement.
"Yes, what is so wrong in that?" You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.
"No, no, I mean, of course you do, you're beautiful, I just, you never mentioned-"
"Relax, Coriolanus. I'm kidding." You smile at the panic in his tone. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh, right. Thanks, it's just for, yeah..." He mumbles, pretending to write something down behind his cupped hand so you couldn't see.
You shake your head at him while he's not paying attention, smiling to yourself.
"So, uh, do you have a job?"
"Not formally, but my ma is a seamstress. I help her lots with that. Fixing people's work clothes, stuff like that." You answer, getting back on topic.
"Did you make your dress?" He asks.
"Now I know that question's not on that form of yours." You laugh. "But yes, my ma made it for me when I was five. It's been my favourite ever since."
He looked the parts of it over that he could see above the table. It was well worn down, but well cared for. Similar to a lot of his own clothing.
"It used to be this big, flowing thing. Too big for a five year old- I would step on the bottom of it, just tore it right up." You recall. "So we trimmed the bottom, and as I grew, it grew right with me. I stitched up the bottom when I was old enough to enter the reaping, so now it's got shorts instead. But I still love it, lots of good memories held in the pockets of this old thing."
Shorts instead. So it's easier to run in. The thought haunts Coryo for a moment. The idea that you, at twelve years old, decided this is what you would want to run in, to die in, and took the liberty of sewing up the crotch in it yourself. Every stitch possibly sealing your fate.
"It's nice. I like it." He responds.
"Thank you." You smile, nodding proudly to yourself as you look down at the fabric. "It's real comfy, too."
"It looks it. Not very... restricting." He chooses his words wisely. No wonder you had kept it so many years. It still fit, so why not? Especially when it looked so good on you. The typically plain, neutral tone of the fabric complimented your skin tone so well. Even in bad lighting, it seemed as though you were glowing where the cloth met your skin. Glowing everywhere, now that he thought about it. Maybe you just lit up every room you walked into. Maybe it wasn't the clothing that was made just for you and hugged your form so flawlessly, maybe it was just you.
"Yes, it is not." You agree. "Now, our time is limited. Next question." You interrupt his thoughts, gesturing to the sheet of paper in between you.
"Yes, sorry." Coryo chuckles, shaking the distraction from his head. "Any hobbies?
"Reading."
"I did know that." He smiles to himself. "Anything else?"
"Well..." You think about it for a moment, chewing your lip. "I have a cat, and I like to play with him and take care of him, does that count?"
"I'll count it." He nods, quickly jotting it down. "What's your cat's name?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.
"Tybalt." You giggle.
"Tybalt?" Coryo tilts his head at you and you nod, bottom lip drawn between your teeth.
He nods slightly, prompting you to explain. "He's named after a character from Romeo and Juliet."
"That's your favourite, I remember."
"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives." You quote. "Mercutio calls Tybalt the king of the cats, so I named him after that."
"That's clever. Very funny."
"Thank you. I thought so." You smile proudly, watching him write down your cats name in his notes. "What is this for, if I can ask?"
"Uh, there's going to be an interview you'll have to do the night before the games. It'll be aired live on Capitol television, and people will be able to send in donations so I can send you things in the arena. Just like I told you." Coryo explains.
"An interview?" You ask. "What does that entail?"
"Well, I'm not sure yet." He answers honestly. "But we'll pass this sheet onto the host, Lucky, if you remember him, and he can ask you questions about your family, your life, any of this stuff. I think really whatever we want, though, so if there's anything in particular you want to say or talk about I can write that down for you."
"Oh, I'm really not sure." You reply. "Nothing in particular, but if you need me to talk I can talk about books for hours on end." You smile.
"Could you do a monologue?" He suggests. He had discussed this with Tigris before, and he was hoping you would, but knowing you, you would be dropping quotes in your interview anyway so you might as well commit to it and display how smart you are with something well-planned.
"Maybe, if you could find me a copy of Romeo and Juliet." You smile. "I think I know it, but it would be nice to have a refresher. Just to make sure I get it right. Would be awfully embarrassing if I made a mistake."
Coryo nods, quickly writing that down in the margins of the page. Considering he had never even heard of this book, it may be hard, but he would certainly try for you. "That would be great. Your goodbye was very moving, although quite confusing for most, but it had people talking about you and that's what we want."
"Okay. I'll practice."
"Thank you." Coryo smiles. "And I just have one more question on here to fill out... Do you have any special skills that you think will be helpful in the games?"
Your smile fades slightly and you just shake your head.
"That's okay. We'll figure it out."
That night, Coryo came to see you again. You were curled up with his blanket, draped half over yourself and half over Jessup as he lay next to you. It was a small blanket, obviously meant for a child, but it helped anyway. Maybe it was just a placebo, but for you, that was more than enough.
As you got up, hearing him call your name in a familiar tone, you draped the blanket more fully over Jessup before making your way over to the bars of the enclosure. "Good evening, Coryo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I brought you some things." He whispers, digging in his bag.
"How kind." You smile, watching as he pulls things out, handing you a napkin with some bread wrapped inside and tucking whatever else he brought under his arm to give to you after you've eaten. "Can you sit for a few minutes?"
"Of course." He nods, sitting down with you as you cross your legs and unfold the fabric carefully as not to drop what's inside. "I was hoping to talk to you anyway."
"Let's talk; it is not day." You smile, leaning toward him more.
"Should I be asking what that's from?" He jokes, but is surprised when you shrug.
"You could, but I wouldn't want to bore you." You giggle, shaking your head. "Take a guess, though. I believe you'd know it."
He smiles, watching as you take a bite out of the bread. "Romeo and Juliet?"
"Yes." You nod in confirmation, covering your mouth while you speak. "You're a real fan, now, aren't you?"
"I guess so." He chuckles. "The fact that I've never read it is unimportant."
"Completely irrelevant." You agree with a quiet laugh. His smile fades as his eyes land on something behind you, and you turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder. "What are you looking at?" You whisper, looking back at him again.
"Are you sharing everything I bring you with Jessup?" He asks, voice stern as his brow furrows at the question.
"I try to." You nod, taking another bite. "He's not well. I think something bit him the first night we were here."
"You can't." Coryo insists. Of course, he wants you to win, and you handing over every bit of sustenance or help you receive is only lessening your odds. Making Jessup stronger and you only weaker. "I know you're a good person, but once you get in that arena you won't have any friends. Not even him." Coryo explains, strategically skipping over the part where it makes him ill to see you sleeping with your head on the boy's shoulder and sharing the blanket that he gifted to you.
"Oh..." You say, so quietly he can hardly hear. "But-"
"Y/N." He cuts you off, a serious look on his face. "If you keep feeding him, keep helping him, and it comes down to you and him in the end, who do you think will win in that fight? If you had all the same nutrients and sleep, who do you think will win?"
"I- well..." You stutter, looking back at your friend. "It won't come to that. I think we both know that."
"We have to assume it will." He pleads, eyes now locked on yours. "Don't make it easier for him."
"Coryo, he's got a family, siblings, his ma to get home to. They need him." You protest, leaning closer so no one else could properly hear.
"So do you." He reminds you. The look of guilt that crosses your face indicates to him that even though you had your own family, something about Jessup makes you willing to give that up for him to get home. "What about Tybalt? He'll never know what happened to his own mother. Or your brother losing his sister. Y/N, please..."
Your eyes widen at the mention of your cat and your brother in particular. Clearly, Coryo is so desperate for you to listen that he's pulling strings he shouldn't. To make you hurt. To make you pay attention.
Tears fill your eyes as you speak. "I know." Your voice cracks, and the pit in Coryo's stomach tells him he's gone too far. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't want to be afraid anymore. It's selfish of me, I know, but I won't last long and I know that so I just want to get it over with." You cry quietly, reaching up to wipe your eyes on your wrist. You hadn't been so candid with him before, he almost doesn't recognize you without a smile on your face.
"Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's not selfish." He whispers, without hesitation reaching through the bars and resting his hand on your knee. Your skin is cold to the touch, even for him after he had just walked all the way here in the same air. "But it'll be over soon, and I'll get you home. I'll do everything I can."
You sniff and nod, hesitating before placing your hand over his. "I promise I'll do my best in the interview. I want you to win your prize."
Coryo's mouth gets dry at the insinuation. You didn't think you could win, you won't even consider it even with all the encouragement he tries to feed you every day, but you want him to win. "That's not important." He says, shocking himself with the sentiment. The Plinth Prize is his only hope at a viable future, at saving his family. But right now, he doesn't even care.
You don't respond right away, just sliding your hand under his to hold it. His skin on yours feels warm, comforting, the same way it did when he held it when you were first dumped in the zoo. You don't know if it's more comforting to you or him.
"I'm sorry to cry at you, I just sometimes realize what's going to happen to me and spiral over the possibilities and no matter how hard I try to accept it..." You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "I'm still fearful." Your voice drops below a whisper.
"Then don't accept it." Coryo grasps your hand tighter, leaning closer to you and looking at you through the bars. "Fight. Try to win."
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if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!
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bucks-babe · 26 days
Note
I’ve been here before lol. I just had to let you know, your virgin Bucky stories live rent free in my head. I hope one day to see him become… not a virgin 👀 if you feel like writing it of course ❤️
Pairing: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader
Warnings: fluff, smut, loss of virginity, slightly sub Bucky, soft!dom reader, riding, multiple orgasms (both), overstimulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (Don’t do that), copious amounts of cum, like so much, Bucky has a big dick, cumming untouched, cumming in boxers, ball riding (I know, there’s something wrong with me), crying during sex (Bucky this time, not reader lol), crying after sex, aftercare, Bucky is so sweet, taking care of Bucky, washing Bucky’s hair (This is a warning), my limited ass vocabulary (It’s a warning), actual brain rot, no use of Y/N, check tags at the bottom
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: This has been in the works for so long but I took so damn long to finish it. I would have never guessed that so many of yall would be so invested in this story and Bucky’s journey. This is not the last you will see of these two, don’t worry. I think we should give them each a nickname. Leave a comment on what each of their names should be. Legit just had them call each other baby this entire fic. If I end up giving them nicknames, I’ll go back and put them in for all their stories. Anyway, enjoy!
As you slowly open your eyes, feeling the warmth and comfort of Bucky's embrace, a sense of safety washes over you. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around you. As you turn to face him, you see that Bucky is already awake, his deep blue eyes gazing at you with adoration and love. You can feel the rhythm of his breathing, steady and soothing against your skin. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the love and contentment you feel in each other's arms
"Good morning," he whispers, his voice husky with sleep. The sunlight filters through the window, casting a gentle glow upon his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched there.
With a small smile, you shift closer to him, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "Good morning," you reply softly, tracing circles on his chest.
Bucky's fingers instinctively tighten around you, as if afraid to let go. "Last night... I didn't mean to let go like that" he admits shyly, his cheeks flushing a rosy hue. "I didn't know I was into that." Bucky felt embarrassed, not being used to letting go and having someone else take care of him. It was such a foreign feeling, yet he loved it, being able to trust someone completely, trusting you more than he does himself. Your heart swells at his vulnerability.
"Oh Bucky, it's okay. I liked it, I liked taking care of you. There's nothing to be ashamed about."
Bucky's eyes soften, relief flooding his features as he takes in your words. "You liked it?" he asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and hope.
A gentle nod escapes you, your fingers continuing their soothing motion on his chest. "Yes, Bucky. I enjoyed every moment of it," you reassure him, your voice filled with sincerity.
He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "I've never let myself be vulnerable like that before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of losing control."
A tender smile graces your lips as you cup his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "Bucky, being vulnerable doesn't mean losing control. It means trusting someone enough to let them in, to share yourself completely." Your words carry the weight of understanding and acceptance.
He gazes at you, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of desire and hesitation. "I don't want to disappoint you, you know? You've been with experienced men before who knew how to pleasure you. I'm not sure if I can do the same for you." The poor thing was terrified of letting you down. He loves you so much, but what if he can’t please you? Would you leave him for someone better? How many people would even want to be with a man who knows almost nothing about pleasing a woman? 
Your hand reaches out to cup Bucky's cheek, your thumb brushing across his rough stubble. His skin is warm and soft under your touch. As you sit up, your hand still resting on Bucky's chest, feeling the faster beat of his heart under your palm. His skin is warm and smooth against your fingertips, a reassuring and comforting touch.
"Last night you gave me the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced with a man. Those other men? They think that one trick that worked on one woman will work on every woman. But you, my love? You listened to me and my body, which is more than most men can say."
Your voice softens as you look into Bucky's eyes, seeing the raw emotion and vulnerability that lies within them. "Bucky, I don't want to give you the impression that you're not enough. You were amazing last night, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to share that part of yourself."
His eyes soften, a look of gratitude and relief washing over him. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "Thank you," he whispers, the words feeling like a heavy weight finally lifting off his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, and you can see a newfound confidence and determination in his eyes. "I want to learn, to be better for you. To make you feel the way you felt last night, every time."
A smile tug at the corner of your lips as you lean in to kiss him gently. "I believe in you, Bucky. And I know that you'll learn and grow, just like you did last night. And I’ll be right there to show you how." With a reassuring nod, Bucky pulls you into a deep and passionate kiss, his hands cradling your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.
Slowly, he pulls away from the kiss, leaving behind a trail of electric energy on your lips. "I want to make love to you today," he whispers. "I want to give you everything I have, and show you just how much I care." Your heart swells with love for the man who would give you anything.
“Are you sure, Bucky? We don’t have to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable doing. I’m perfectly fine waiting for you, however long it takes.” You cup his face, staring into his eyes, seeing determination yet anxiety in his eyes. He wants to do this, have you be his first and only, he’s sure of it.
“Yes. I want more, I want everything with you. Last night, making you feel good, it sparked something in me. I want to do it again. Fuck, you looked so sexy when you came.” Just at the thought of the taste of your pussy and the image of you writhing on the bed in pleasure makes his cock throb, filling with blood. The feel of your naked breasts pressed against him is doing nothing to stop it either.
“If you’re sure, baby, we will. You want to follow my lead or experiment by yourself?” The thought of you trusting him enough to let him do whatever he wants to your body makes him whine, bucking his hip into your bare core, the boxers doing little to hinder the feeling on his sensitive dick.
“Want to follow you, please.” As you take the covers of the pair of you, Bucky’s eyes go right to your tits, hands moving on their own accord to cup them. You’re proud that he was comfortable enough to touch you without hesitancy. 
You roll onto your back, Bucky following without a second thought, hands still on you, Bucky sits on his knees, admiring the view of your spread pussy. “I want you to finger me. You remember how, baby?” Of course Bucky remembers how, he remembers how much it made you moan and wiggle on the bed, how you were clenching on them when you came, how fucking tight you got. Bucky nods, right hand moving to your pussy. He needs to use his right hand, needs to feel how wet and tight you are. 
Thumb moving to your slit, he gathers the wetness that has been pooling there since you felt his hard cock through his boxers and drags it up to your clit, rubbing it just the way you taught him, the small gasp that leaves your lips lets him know he’s doing it right. His eyes can’t leave your pussy, memorized by the wetness leaving it. He trails his middle and ring finger down and slowly enters you, cock somehow getting even harder at your feel.
His metal hand comes down to rub your clit as his fingers speed up, wanting you to cum so fucking bad. “Just like that, baby. You’re doing so fucking well. Making me feel so good.” Bucky can feel his heavy balls pulling up, cum about to burst from his cock, hips thrusting in the air, meeting nothing. Heat creeps up his cheeks, he knows he’s going to cum before you without even touching anything. He wants so fucking bad to jerk his cock, coaxing his huge load out, but he can’t leave your pussy.
You clench tights around him, your orgasm building up as well. Bucky can’t handle it, the way your head hits the pillows, eyes closed in pleasure, moans getting higher in pitch. Within seconds, Bucky’s cock bursts, cum pouring from his tip, immediately soaking the front of his boxers, leaking down until it lands on the bed, his moans louder than yours. At the sound of his pleasure you cum, clit twitching under his fingers, waves upon waves passing through you. 
As you come down from your orgasm, you realize that Bucky is still cumming. “Baby, why won’t it stoppp, fuckk, please, feels so fucking good, shitt, please.”At his words the last of him cum dribbles out. The sight of his flushed cheeks and the soaking wet boxers almost makes you cum again. Sitting up, you push Bucky off the bed until he stands, taking off his underwear and pulling him back onto the bed, laying him down.
“You still want to do anything else, baby?” You desperately want to have his cock inside of you, have him cumming that much in your pussy, letting it leak out all over his balls down to the bed, but if he doesn’t want to go any further you’ll stop, no questions asked.
“Oh fuck yes! Want you to ride me please.” The whole of his sentence comes out as a moan, cock still sensitive and hard, ready for you to take it however you please. Straddling him, you grab him lining him up with your pussy. You look at him and at his nod, you start to sit on him. As soon as the tip breaches you, he cums, and he cums hard. “OH SHIT! FUCK, YES! FUCK I’M CUMMING!” He’s practically screaming, but he can’t find it in himself to care, the most intense orgasm of his life coursing through him. 
Hands flying to your hips, he pulls you all the way down, bucking into you with so much force you have to grab the headboard. “ OH FUCKING SHIT!  DON’T FUCKING STOP! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” It’s not like you could even if you tried, only option to take his assault, and fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. Your moans almost match his in volume, pussy still trying to adjust to the size of him, balls slapping against your ass. After a few seconds, you already feel his cum being forced out of you to make room for his cock. His cum now all over both of your sexes, his balls, your ass, and the bed.
His orgasm lasts minutes, the amount of cum leaving his cock never slowing down, hips never stop slamming into yours. During his orgasm, you cum too, the sight was so hot you couldn’t help yourself. When your pussy was clenching around him so tight he somehow got louder. Eventually, he orgasm abated and his hips stopped, laying limb on the bed. 
Shame washed over him, at how much he lost himself to his orgasm, how rough he was with you. “I’m so sorry, baby. Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.” 
“Fuck, Bucky, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting you to be so turned on by his orgasm. His cock was still rock hard inside of you, giving you an idea. “What position do you want to do next?” Bucky almost cums again at those words, he knows what he wants, but is almost embarrassed to ask. However, his cock is thinking for him, washing away his inhibitions.
“Can you ride me?” You just smile and start to pick up your hips but he stops you. “From the back.” You throb at that. He wants to watch your ass bounce on him. 
You pull off, hissing at the empty feeling and turn around. You grab his cum soaked balls and you feel them twitch in your palm. Pulling them up you turn your head to Bucky. “Do me a favor and close your legs for me.” He doesn’t ask a single question and does so immediately. You let his balls fall on top of his legs and put his cock right back in, not waiting a second to start bouncing, grinding your clit on his slick balls at the end of every bounce.
“Oh, fuck. How does your ass move like that, shit. Looks so sexy.” His hands ghost over your cheeks, not knowing what to do with the sight in front of him.
“Smack my ass, baby.” He groans, and lays a light slap to your right cheek. “Harder, Bucky. Leave your mark on me.” His Oh shit is ignored as he slaps you a little harder, still not hard enough, cock pulsing at the sight of your ass bouncing, feeling it move under his hands. “Don’t be a little pussy, baby. Give it a slap like a fucking man.” Maybe it was a little mean, but you needed to feel his hand coming down on you. His near constant moans get louder, clearing enjoying the degradation. The next slap is hard. “Yes, little harder, baby. Fuck! Just like that, keep going. Don’t stop, want your handprints all week.”
He keeps going, smacking you harder each time. His balls rubbing on your clit pull up and he cums once again. This time, though, he pulls out, jerking his cock, cumming all over your ass. “Fucking shit! Wanted me to mark your fucking ass? Well I’m fucking doing it. Cumming so much. Maybe I’ll just stick my dick in your ass and cum in there too.” You don’t know where that came from, but it makes you ride his balls faster, ass jiggling as he continues to cum on it. “That’s so fucking hot, keeping moving that fat ass on me.” You really don’t know where his dirty mouth is coming from but you don’t care because holy hell is it hot.
 Seconds later, Bucky can’t take it anymore and shoves his cock back in your pussy, spreading his legs back out and planting them on the bed so he can fuck up into you. With your ass moving so much with his thrusts, his cum is going everywhere. Bucky lands a hard slap to your cheeks, smacking his cum into them, spreading it all around.
Just like before, he cums for minutes, cum flowing out of your pussy. The entire of both of your hips and your ass and the bed is completely drenched with his cum. When he’s done he pulls you off his cock and spins you around so you’re facing him again. “Baby, my cock is still so fucking hard, I don’t know what to do.” You coo at him, setting your hand against his cheek.
“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” Instead of slipping his cock back into you, you grind against it, with every roll of your hips his sensitive tip rubs your clit. “Does this feel good, baby?”
“Uh huh, so good.” You see his adam's apple bob and his bottom lip wobble. The feral part of his brain that was fucking you earlier is gone, now your sweet boyfriend is left. He’s not even looking at the way his tip pops out between your folds, no, he’s staring right into your eyes. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him, every part of your body touching his in some way.
You rest your forehead against his and meet his gaze, tears spilling over and running down the sides of his face. You gently wipe them away but they keep coming. One of his hands goes in between your bodies pushing his cock back inside its home, your warm walls enveloping every inch, both of you gasping. Bucky can’t decide if he wants to keep going or stop, a twinge of pain biting its way up his cock, but you just feel too good. He can’t leave your pussy, needing to cum one last time. The slow grind of your hips never speeds up, gently fucking him, no, making love to him.
Bucky tries to kiss you but the pleasure you’re giving leaves him putty in your hands. The kiss is sloppy and wet, but one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, feeling the words neither of you can get out at the moment. The hairs at the base of his cock rub your clit, building up your final orgasm, Bucky not long behind, trying to hold out for you.
“You’re okay, baby. Want you to cum for me, not far behind.” Any restraint left in Bucky’s body disappears, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cums for the last time.
“Fuckkk, baby, love you so much, please, I need you to cum for me. Need it so bad.” The slow roll of his tears before shifts to full on sobs, pleasure too much. You pull yourself off his cock, knowing that it’s now too much for him. “No, no, I need you to cum, please.” Your hand trails down your body, fingers rubbing your clit, the sight of you makes Bucky whine, and pull you down into a kiss, where you cum, moaning into his mouth. 
You roll the both of you over, placing Bucky’s head on your chest, lightly scratching his scalp, tracing shapes on his back with your other hand. When his tears subside, Bucky is the first to speak. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 
You feel a lump form in your throat. Of course you would always take care of him. There is nothing that you wouldn’t do for him. “I love you so much, Bucky. I could never hurt you, only want to give you the best in life. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do.” Bucky doesn’t say anything after that, not knowing what to say, not being used to such unbridled love. 
A few minutes pass before the amount of cum and sweat surrounding you gets uncomfortable. “Come on, baby, lets get cleaned up.” Bucky whines but complies anyway. “Get the shower started for me? I’ll change the bed.” He nods and heads to the shower. You work as fast as you can to get the sheets off and a fresh set on. Still naked you run to the washroom and throw the soiled sheets in the wash and start it before running back to the bathroom. 
Bucky is waiting outside of the shower for you, eyes still red from crying, almost shying away from you. Grabbing his hand you lead him into the hot water. “You did so good for me, Bucky. Made me feel incredible. You know, if that was your first time, I’m going to need help from the gods to handle you when you practice more.” That gets a small smile from him. “Don’t get all bashful on me, big man, after you rocked my world back there.”
“Stop it, baby.” His words hold no heat to them, secretly loving your complements. “You did too, rocked my world, you know? Didn’t know it could feel that good. There isn’t anyone else I would rather do that with.” He’s going to make you cry one of these days, saying all this sweet shit to you, and you know he means every single word of it.
“Yeah? How do you feel? Feel okay? I know that was a lot for you.” He dips his head down when you reach for his shampoo, letting you wash his hair, then grabbing the soap and lathering the wash cloth, running it along his body. At the feeling of your soft hands on his body, taking care of him after he gave himself over to you, Bucky can’t respond, too caught up in your love. “Bucky?” Your hands stop, fearing the worst at his silence.
“Feel so good, baby. I…” Bucky chokes up, tears resurfacing. He doesn’t know why he’s crying. You pull him to you, hugging him until he stops. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just, you make me feel so safe, I can’t control myself, I just feel, you know?” You know because he makes you feel the same way.
“Yeah, I do, baby, I do.” 
“Can I wash you?” After you took care of him, Bucky wants to do the same for you, never wanting you to feel like he was using you. You nod and Bucky takes extra care to get all of his cum off of you, cleaning you up just like you did to him. By the time you’re done in the shower, the water’s cold. Bucky takes a towel and wraps you up first. Before he can reach for his, you take it and dry him off. 
“What do you want to do now? We can cuddle, get something to eat, watch a movie, whatever you want.” You know how important aftercare is, especially when Bucky was feeling so vulnerable after his first time. 
“Can we just cuddle?” He looks almost scared to ask you for such a simple gesture.
“Of course we can.” Taking your hand, Bucky leads you to the bed, foregoing clothes. You pull the blankets up and let him rest his head on your chest, listening to the beat of your heart and steady breathing. Not too long after you hear his light snoring and know he’s asleep, you following soon after in the arms of the love of your life, excited to experience all of Bucky’s firsts with him, seeing him grow, not only in experience, but also confidence.
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cherrywrecked · 5 months
Text
sext — uchinaga aeri.
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i'm back, sort of. still won't be too active, but i'm hoping to post new write ups / updates more often. i'm so sorry if this is short, i just couldn't take my mind off of this one, i had to write it.
tags: giselle x oc. teasing. masturbation. sexting. nsfw video right in the middle of the fic. wear your earphones.
ever since that night where giselle had drunkenly made out with you and humped herself on your lap to her orgasm, you just couldn't take your mind off of her. hell, you had even made plans on fucking her the next day, but it was finals week and you had barely seen her. it was as if the two of you were just coexisting at the same place and it was pissing you off. despite that, the two of you never stopped teasing each other since that night, like the two of you had just been waiting for that opportunity to finally be able to do this. you both had been constantly exchanging nasty messages to each other—nothing more, just sexting. however, giselle seemed to be very stressed lately, that she had decided to take things further this time.
giselle:
hey, babe. i missed you. when are you coming home?
to your surprise, giselle had sent you a message in the middle of your study session at the library. you quickly replied to let her know you won't be home until evening, to which caused aeri to frown as she read your message. she can't take it anymore. she needed you, but she can't right now. but she can, however, fuck herself to the thought of you, can't she?
giselle:
but baby, i'm so horny...
i want to feel your fingers inside of me already.
i want you to fuck me... can't you just come home and do that?
mhm... it feels so good humping my pillow while thinking about you.
my pussy's throbbing just thinking about you... bet you're thinking about me now too.
naughty girl, are you fantasizing about us fucking in the library? me eating you out underneath the table?
fuck, i need to cum...
she was driving you insane that you couldn't focus anymore. thank god the messages stopped. but it didn't even take her twenty minutes before she sent another message. this one, though, a whole lot different than the previous ones.
(nsfw video ahead! click the link if you wish to.)
giselle:
good luck studying today, loser. i'm about to fuck myself all over our apartment. feel free to join me, though—actually, i'd love that.
along with the text was an attached video of her fucking herself. with your dildo. in your kitchen. you don't know where she found it, but that was definitely your dildo she was using and holy fuck— that's all it took for you to start packing your reading materials and got ready to go home to where she was. but before leaving the library, you made sure to leave her a quick message to stimulate her even more.
you:
such a dirty little girl. fucking yourself in the kitchen counter? tsk. make sure you're in my bed when i get home in ten and i want to see you fucking your slutty cunt with my dildo, understand? i'll fucking ruin you.
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heavenlyvision · 5 months
Text
While hell freezes over
Word count: 10.4k
Pairing: Bi-Han x F!Reader
This is a part three to my 'When hell freezes over' series, parts linked in order below :3
part one, part two
A/N: Even longer fic this time guys! I got carried away :3 thank you all for the continued support, kind words and patience! I hope this is satisfactory and lives up to expectations. And well… if you thought Bi-Han went off in the last one, then, I dunno what to tell you about this one. I have a few requests I’d like to get through before I start the next part, if you’ve sent me one and think I’ve been ignoring it, I haven’t, I see it! I have plans and ideas for them. I’ve just been writing 10k words of Bi-Han brain rot but trust me, I’m on it :)
Summary: Someone heard you last night, an embarrassing conversation ensues, and the day doesn’t get better from there. You find yourself in a compromising position and Bi-Han does not appreciate it, he finds himself needing to remind you of who you belong to.
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, squirting, inappropriate use of Bi-Han’s ice powers, possessive!Bi-Han, jealous!Bi-Han, pussy slapping (more like tapping), inappropriate use of Bi-Hans official title, return of mean Bi-Han, slight Soft!Bi-Han, no use of y/n
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It’s early when you wake up wrapped up in Bi-Han’s arms, he never gave you the chance to leave last night and now you have to figure out how to get out of the room without anyone seeing you. Carefully, you try to wiggle yourself free from his large arms.
“Trying to sneak away?” Bi-Han’s voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep.
Looking at him, you can see both of his eyes are still closed. Too tired to be bothered to open them.
“Not really… I mean… kind of?” You reply bashfully at getting caught.
He grumbles softly, too tired to answer you properly.
Waking up in his arms has you feeling some kind of way, he’s surprisingly warm, he makes you feel safe, and the low timbre of his voice is making you feel fuzzy. It all feels so domestic, and it makes you feel like your heart is about ten times too big for your ribcage, threatening to spill out of your chest.
The feeling is foreign, you’ve never cared so deeply for someone, it’s frightening in all honesty. You have no idea what to do with the sheer force of your feelings, so you settle for leaning up slightly and pressing a chaste kiss to Bi-Han’s lips.
His reaction is another soft grumble, before he pulls you closer. Your face resting under his chin. You allow the moment to last, never wanting to leave it but knowing the longer you wait the harder sneaking back to your own room will be.
“I have to leave; someone will catch me if I wait any longer.” You’re trying to convince him to release you from his firm grip.
“Don’t care,” either he really doesn’t care or he’s too tired to try.
“Bi-Han, I came over last night in nothing but my robe.”
He lets out a long groan, an internal battle exiting through it, sharing his disdain for you having to leave but also disliking the possibility of someone seeing you wearing only a robe.
“Jus wear some of my clothes.” He shrugs, rustling you a bit as he does.
“I’m like nowhere near your size and people will be able to tell I am wearing your clothes.” You feel like this back and forth will never end.
He’s smiling, “why are you smiling?” You ask him, this isn’t funny.
“Like the idea of someone seeing you in my clothes.” He’s still not opened his eyes for this conversation, still in the same position, holding you close.
It’s your turn to let out a grumble, “you are the one who initially said no one could know we were sleeping together.”
“Two things can be true at once.” Is his simple, smart-ass reply.
Best bet of getting out of this situation is to distract him, you lean up again and kiss him. He kisses you back, moving his hand down to rest on your bare hip. He pulls your lower half towards his, he’s already hard and that surprises you slightly. It shouldn’t, you swear he could look at you fully clothed and get hard.
Your thoughts are abruptly distracted when the hand on your hip skates down to your leg, pulling it over his hip. His cock slides through your folds, the light contact of it gliding over your clit has you gasping into his mouth. He lets out an appreciative hum at your reaction, this is bad, you think he might be distracting you now.
Pulling your lips from his you tell him, “Bi-han, I really do need to leave.”
He pulls another gasp from you as he continues to rock his hips, eyes open now and heavy with sleep and lust.
“Hmm, that’s funny, I don’t think you need to leave.”
And then suddenly, there’s a knock on his door. Bi-Han’s face immediately scrunches up in annoyance, his distaste at the intrusion makes you smile before you purse your lips; trying to hide your amusement.
He holds a finger up to your mouth, before he whispers to you, “Be quiet.”
You nod your head in response to him before licking the length of his finger, he gives you a heated gaze. Equally annoyed and turned on.
“Bi-Han, hurry up, I know you are in there,” It’s Kuai-Liang’s voice.
He grunts at his brother, “Give me a moment.” He rolls his eyes as he moves to let you go and get himself out of bed. You’re still smiling at his annoyance, he’s a bit of a drama queen, you think.
After he’s out of the bed you flip onto your stomach, pulling the blanket to properly cover your bottom half. Your arms slide under the pillow, pulling it closer, you press the side of your face into it. Facing Bi-Han as he pulls his robe from last night back on, tying it in the front quickly.
You can’t help but watch as he moves to the door, he stands in the way of you before opening the door a crack, shielding your form from Kuai’s sight. From where you are laying you can only see Bi-Han’s back, a very nice view indeed. You flop your head back onto the pillows, neck sore from craning it to watch him walk across the room.
“What do you want?” Bi-Han is straight to the point.
“Good morning to you too, Bi-Han.” Comes Kuai Liang’s unbothered response.
Bi-Han says nothing further but you’re guessing it’s more than likely he’s pinned him with an annoyed look.
Your theory gains more merit when Kuai Liang continues speaking, “It is getting later in the morning, Lui Kang asked to see us today, remember?”
“I remember.” Bi-Han is also unbothered.
You roll your eyes a bit, he has a meeting with the Fire God, defender of Earthrealm, Lord Lui Kang and he’s wasting his time in bed with you. Like meeting with Lui Kang is the least important thing he has to do today. It makes you feel soft and gooey inside, like you’re special and you’re suddenly struck with the realisation that, perhaps, to him you are special.
Kuai lets out an exasperated sigh, already sick of this conversation, “also, Bi-Han, if you’re going to have…” there’s a palpable silence before he continues on, “…guests you should at least try to be more discrete.”
You feel lightening go through you, you shoot up from your position on the bed; now sitting with your knees tucked under you. Eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
Bi-Han grunts a little at his brother, he doesn’t get to ask Kuai Liang how he knows, he’s already telling you both, “You were both, not quiet, and my room is close.” He’s a little bashful as he informs you both.
“Does anyone else know?” You ask Kuai.
“As far as I know, no, I don’t imagine they would. The others rooms are further away.” He considers his words for a moment, not looking you in the eyes, which confuses you. He continues, “Tomas might have heard, but he is usually a heavy sleeper.”
You ruminate on the layout of the quarters for a moment, Bi-Han and his brothers are clumped together, yours are further away from all the men, hence the sneaking through the temple to get here, and the rest of the guys are further from Bi-Han’s room. They’re still in the same area but not as close, which you are grateful for right this moment. You think if Johnny were the one to hear you both, you’d die of embarrassment on the spot, he would not be able to keep it a secret and if he did, it would only be to torture you for his own amusement.
Bi-Han turns around to look at you, his eyes go wide, “cover yourself!”
You look down at yourself and realise the blanket is around your waist, you’re shocked but you also find Bi-Han’s reaction funny.
Giggling nervously, you pull it up over your chest, “Sorry, Kuai Liang.” You’re holding back a smile as you apologise.
“It’s fine.” Kuai brushes you off, a slight pink tinge visible on his cheeks.
“No, it is not,” Bi-Han groans out, “You’re gonna kill me I swear.”
You smile at him, “Sorry, Bi-Han.”
He grunts at you before facing his brother again, “Is that all?”
“Don’t be rude, invite him in.”
You imagine Bi-Han has made a disgruntled face at your words but invites his brother in all the same.
You’re certain Kuai has some questions and considering he was forced to listen to you both last night, answers are the least you can do for him at the moment. Bi-Han shuts the door behind his brother before picking up your robe and moving to face you. He slips your arms through it and closes it over you properly, dressing you while hiding your frame from his brother. Not that it would matter, Kuai Liang is being very polite and looking up at the ceiling as Bi-Han dresses you.
“You can look now,” you tell Kuai gently.
Bi-Han cuts in, “It would be preferable if you stayed staring at the ceiling though.”
“Ignore him,” you lightly poke Bi-Han in the side, and he slaps your hand away gently.
Kuai Liang answers you and ignores Bi-Han’s comment, “I normally do.”
You chuckle at his response, very much brothers, you think. Kuai finds a chair and pulls it up for himself to sit in, both Bi-Han and yourself stay sitting side by side on the bed.  
With the way things are going you suspect they would both just stare at each other all morning, engaged in an unspoken staring contest.
You decide to interrupt their wordless conversation, “I am sure you must have questions, Kuai. We will answer any you may have.”
“No, we won’t.” Bi-Han deadpans.
You give him a side eye, but he stays staring at his brother, trying to tell him it is not okay to ask questions.
Kuai Liang carries on anyways, having mastered the art of ignoring his brother, “This is… not the first time you both have…?” He trails off but you know what he is asking.
Bi-Han is quick to hit him with, “None of your business–”
“–It is not the first time, no.” You cut off Bi-Han, answering the question.
“When did it start?” He carries on.
You think on it for a second, it feels like so much longer, but it’s only been, “about a week.”
Kuai considers his next question carefully, “is it just… do you two like each other?”
You aren’t really sure how to answer that, you know you like Bi-Han, and he likes you, but you’ve not actually spoken about what this is between you both, or how you would define it to others.
Surprisingly and thankfully, Bi-Han answers that, “yes.”
His admission of liking you to a third party makes your insides giddy and you smile softly to yourself.
Kuai Liang looks a little shocked by his brother, whether it be his admission or just liking someone in general you aren’t sure, but he says, “I guess that explains why you were staring at her.”
You laugh a little at that, but Bi-Han predictably replies with, “I don’t stare.” You say it in tandem with him, much to his chagrin. “I don’t like when you do that.” Bi-Han directs at you.
You’re still amused, “I don’t like when you don’t admit to obvious truths.”
He rolls his eyes at you, something you’ve found yourself growing fond of. Now enjoying annoying him just to see him either roll his eyes or raise an eyebrow at you.
“We are trying to keep this from everyone else, so it would be appreciated if you didn’t tell the others.” You tell Kuai Liang.
“What she means is, I will hurt you.” Bi-Han threatens.
You jab him lightly in his ribs with your elbow, he is unphased, your action not even moving him.
Kuai nods his head anyways, once again paying his brother no mind, “I will not tell anyone, but it would be better if you both tried… keeping it down.”
You look as guilty as you feel, Bi-Han has no shame though, “Don’t listen, then.”
“It was not intentional!” Kuai looks annoyed and flustered.
“Bi-Han, we should’ve been more aware of those around us.” You tell him quietly.
His face is pulled up in a scowl, he shoots you a dark look, one that tells you something you already know. He likes when you’re loud in bed, and he isn’t going to stop fucking you till you scream. He does not care that others will hear, and knowing someone did hear, changes nothing for him.
You determine that you will have to talk with him privately because you would really rather the others not hearing you getting your brains fucked stupid.
“He can buy some ear plugs,” Bi-Han shrugs.
“Not the issue right now,” you’re incensed with him, he’s being intentionally dense again.
Kuai looks between the both of you, he seems lightly amused by you both. He goes to talk again, “In any case, those are my most burning questions, we have to meet with Lui Kang.”
He makes a move to stand up, “Now, or we will be late, Bi-Han.”
Bi-Han looks irritated, he closes his eyes and huffs out a sigh, “I know, I will be with you both shortly.”
Kuai goes to complain about him being late again, but you stop him, “It’s okay Kuai, I’ve got it.”
“Thank you,” he replies before slipping back out the room, on his way to meet with Lui Kang.
You turn to face Bi-Han on the bed properly, “We were not careful, that is our fault.”
“He should have minded his own business.”
“He did us a favour by informing us, now, get changed properly, you apparently have a meeting today.” You smile up at him, that whole conversation was beyond embarrassing, but you can’t seem to mind right now. The morning had been perfect otherwise and considering the alternatives, Kuai being the one who overheard you both is a blessing in disguise.
He flops back on the bed, “I do not want to go to the meeting, I wanted to stay here, in bed with you.”
“You know I have training today anyways; I would’ve had to leave.” You’re trying to reason with him.
But Bi-Han knows no reason when it comes to you, “fairly certain I could have convinced you to stay in bed with me.” He props himself up by his forearm, the shadow of a smirk on his lips.
Leaning down you quickly peck his lips before getting off his bed, stretching your sore muscles. “You have the biggest ego I have ever seen on someone.”
“Not just my ego that is big,” he retorts.
You ignore his cockiness; it will somehow end up with you back in his arms if you do. Instead, you walk into his bathroom, rinsing your face and using the toilet.
When you emerge, he is half dressed, wearing his pants. He looks up at you when you exit, “I will walk you back to your room,” he offers.
“It isn’t on the way to Lui Kang, you will be late.”
“It will be fine; I’d rather see you get back unseen and safe.” He says as he walks into the bathroom himself.
When he’s back in your view you watch him finish dressing himself, pulling his hair back quickly into his signature bun. He looked breathtaking with his hair down, remembering last night makes you blush. Mindlessly you continue to watch Bi-Han get himself ready.
His eyes catch yours and he walks towards you, leaning down to you he asks, “Why are you blushing?”
“No reason,” you smile at him, kissing him on the nose.
He hums softly, “I’m sure.”
He turns to put his boots on, when they’re on he looks back at you, reaching his hand out. You take it and he pulls you to him, he gives you a heated kiss. The kind he gives you just to take your breath away and leave you wanting more.
When he pulls back, he says to you, “Come on, sweet girl.”
You pull him in for a hug, feeling the need to hold him close for a moment. He allows it, rubbing his hands up and down your back. Soothing you, it’s another intimate moment that has you feeling warm.
When you pull back you say, “okay, I’m ready now.”
He smiles at you curiously but you both walk out of his room and head toward your own, you are grateful for the company on the walk back. You are also grateful that he shows you a path less crowded, avoiding anyone who might be up and around.
Both of you remain unseen, but Bi-Han is particularly alert to your surroundings as you walk back regardless. It makes you feel safe, having him keep a watchful eye. For the first time in a while, you don’t feel like you have to be attuned to everything around you and you’re thankful for it.
Now that you are both alone you broach the topic of being more alert of your volumes while in the throes of passion, “we should be more careful Bi-Han, it’s embarrassing to me that Kuai heard us last night.”
He sighs, “Mmm, you may try to be quieter, but I doubt you will be successful.”
“I will be quieter, next time.” You feel determined now, as if he issued you a challenge.
He hums thoughtfully, “we will see.”
The rest of the walk is pleasant, albeit electric. You want him badly, but you’re aware of what is important right now. He has a meeting, and you have training, you kept repeating this to yourself as a reminder.
In front of your room, you look both ways before leaning up and kissing him, you go to pull away, but his mouth follows yours. He groans into your mouth, deepening the kiss for a brief moment before ultimately pulling back himself.
You’re a touch out of breath as you say, “thank you, for walking me back to my room.”
“You are most welcome, sweet girl.” His hand reaches to your cheek, thumb rubbing your cheekbone. He double checks the area and then leans in again, pressing a quick peck to your lips that you return.
“I will see you later.”
And then he’s gone, walking back the way you came. Yes, this morning had been perfect indeed.
❆˖°
Lucky for you, you are not late to training. Even though you had to spend extra time finding a shirt with a neck high enough to cover the hickey’s you had forgotten Bi-Han had given you. The very orange training outfit sits on top of the borderline turtleneck you’re wearing under it.
As you walk through the Fire Temple, you realise that Kuai would have seen your skin littered with marks earlier and that makes you feel so fucking embarrassed. It’s bad enough that he heard you last night, it’s worse that he saw obvious evidence of it. You try to push it out of your mind, the damage is done now anyways.
Though when you walk into the training area, you are praying that no one asks you questions about the turtleneck, it’s sleeveless so it’s just the neck poking out from under your shirt. You aren’t sure if that’s more suspicious though, maybe you should’ve just worn make up, or are you overthinking again? Probably the last option.
If you’re being honest, this orange outfit is very bright. Not your personal tastes, you feel like a large, well… orange. Or maybe a traffic cone. If you had your own pick, you would be wearing something else, but you also find it cute how you’re all matching.
“Happy morning, boys!” You call out to everyone, is that a phrase people use? Are you too chipper? Do you usually behave like this? You’re very self-conscious after Kuai Liang heard everything last night.
You’ve been taking it like a champ but if you find out one more person heard you, you might cry on the spot.
“Happy morning?” Kenshi asks.
“Yeah, it’s the same as good morning, I don’t understand your confusion.” It’s not something you’ve said or heard other people say before, so you do understand his confusion actually, your nervousness is turning you into a gas lighter.
They all stand there looking at you like you’re boo boo the fool, Raiden breaks the awkward silence, “…happy morning to you too.”
You are going to explode into a shower of blood rain, you need to get it together. You’d think it’s your first day on Earth.
Thankfully, Johnny also brushes right past your weirdness, “you ready to face me today, darlin?”
Ah, you’re sparring against each other today, you had forgotten. Sparring against Johnny isn’t necessarily something you’re worried about, it’s the fact that you got fucked into next week and your muscles are yelling at you. Today is gonna be one bitch of a day.
You don’t falter though, “you know it, I’ll be taking you down, Hollywood.” That felt more normal, pats on the back for you.
You guess Johnny just signed you both up for going first. A new problem has formed of this situation though, if you let him get the upper hand you can bow out while he spars with the next person, which means you could take it easy for the first half of training. However, you are competitive and don’t want to throw the round. Which, if you manage to out manoeuvre him, will mean you continue to spar with the next person.
This exercise is meant to be light-hearted, hand to hand sparring. Learning to get a feel against a real opponent. You’re going to have to make a real attempt to not be so competitive. Afterall, this isn’t a competition. It’s a sparring exercise.
Both you and Johnny move over to a clear area and position yourselves in the official defensive stances you’ve been taught. Something that does not come naturally to you, you’ve had previous fighting experience, and it contradicts the methods you’re being taught while here.
He moves at you first, kicking out and aiming at your side, very predictable of him. You move back at the kick, dodging it. He continues to move closer towards you, a right hook coming at you, you duck down and punch his side, throwing off his centre of balance slightly. You move, rounding him until you’re facing his back. You kick the back of his knee, and he goes down.
His palms stop him from faceplanting into the ground, you step on his back pushing him down further. You drop on him and bring your arms around his neck, putting him in a chokehold. His arms come up to yours wrapped around his neck and try pulling you off. You’re being careful not to actually apply any pressure to his neck but you’re holding firm in your position. Pulling back on him slightly, his back bends.
His hands give up on trying to pull out of the choke hold and instead he flops to the ground properly. He rolls taking you with him, you imagine it’s quite the scene to watch. Laying all of his weight on you manages to loosen your grip around his neck and he takes the opportunity to quickly switch around so he’s facing you.
He has the upper hand now and he’s pinning your arms to the ground by your wrists, “Wanna tap out, sugar?”
Such a flirt, you think, “I don’t think so, sugar.”
It hurts a bit as you do it, due to the fact you were in this kind of position under very different circumstances last night. You reach your legs up, and knee his stomach slightly as you do, giving yourself more room to move. They continue up and through his arms that are pinning you down. Manoeuvring them around his neck and clamping down. Using the momentum, you’ve gained to sway him to the side.
Once you’re on top again, your thighs are by his head, or more accurately, squeezing his neck. You lean your upper half back slightly and grab his wrists in both of your hands, pulling his arms back behind you to pin him to the spot. Thighs holding him in place.
The position is unorthodox, something that you were not taught during your time here, but you didn’t want him to win. Not that you’re being competitive or anything.
You look down at him and he wiggles his eyebrows, “I don’t mind this position.” He has a shit eating grin on his face.
You shake your head at him, “Does that mean you’re tapping out?”
“If I do, can we stay like this?” His question filled with suggestion; he is very bold.
“I am not releasing you until you tap out.” Your gaze filled with nothing but the desire to win.
His grin gets wider, a full-blown smile now, “then I don’t tap out.”
“Johnny, c’mon,” your voice is laced with a pleading annoyance.
He tries to supress his smile but fails, you can hear the guys off to the side groaning too. You look to them for support. “Guys, help?”
Kung Lao looks at you with an apologetic albeit amused face, “I don’t know what you want me to do here, just let him up.”
You make an unhappy face at Kung Lao and look back down at Johnny, “just tap out man, I need to hear you say you concede.”
“I don’t.” He says cheekily.
You roll your eyes at him but then you feel it, the tell-tale sign that Bi-Han is staring at you. A shiver running down your spine, one that you’ve learnt to suppress the outward signs of.
Looking up, you lock eyes with Bi-Han, he’s off to the side, Lui Kang, Kuai Liang, and Tomas with him. He’s giving you angry eyes; you aren’t really concerned with why right now though. You are concerned with winning.
You continue to pin Johnny, unwilling to let him up until he admits defeat, but it’s almost like an unstoppable force meets an immovable object.
“Johnny, just say you tap out.” You ask him again.
“He does,” comes Bi-Han’s booming voice from above, cutting off anything Johnny was about to say. He had moved closer surprisingly quick.
“Hey man, I can speak for myself,” he looks up to Bi-Han.
This whole situation is ridiculous, you look over to Kuai and he looks very on edge. Bi-Han’s eyes look like he’s considering various way to commit murder right now.
Johnny looks up at you, ignoring Bi-Han, “I concede.” He smiles at you.
“Thank you,” you sigh, moving to unpin him and get up.
He keeps smiling at you, laying on the floor, “you can stay where you are though if you’d like.”
You roll your eyes at him, “In your dreams, Hollywood.”
When you’re off him, you lean down and offer him your hand, helping him off the floor. You found it all quite funny if you’re honest, but by the look on Bi-Han’s face, he did not. Not by a long shot.
“Alright, who do you want to spar against next, sugar?” Johnny asks.
You laugh, “that’s all you, I need a break after putting up with you.”
He chuckles at your response but points at Kenshi, “C’mon tattoo, you’re up.”
Kenshi lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes at Johnny, already reaching his limit for putting up with him for today. That’s a new record, Kenshi can normally put up with him until lunch.
You walk off to the side and move to stand beside Kuai Liang, Bi-Han follows behind you, and he stops when you do. You’re sandwiched between the two of them right now, you feel nervous, like you’re in trouble with the principle or something. Lui Kang and Tomas are next to Kuai Liang on his other side.
The position you had Johnny in was compromising, sure, you can see that. But on the other hand, you literally had him in a choke hold. You were sparring with him and trying to win, you’re missing something that would make Bi-Han’s borderline repressed rage make sense for you.
Lui Kang breaks the tension, “very impressive, how you took him down, I am sorry to have missed most of it.”
“Thank you, if only he didn’t enjoy it so much, I’d take more pride in it.” You tell Lui Kang, though you’re grateful for the compliment.
You had felt pretty proud of yourself at the takedown of a man larger than yourself, especially when your muscles are sore and achy today, but that was a little undone when Bi-Han was emitting murderous vibes.
“I don’t think he can help himself,” Lui Kang says in reference to Johnny.
You snicker a bit at Lui Kang’s statement, you don’t think Johnny can help himself either, but he seems kind-hearted. The friendships you’ve created amongst everyone here are very important to you, and most important to you is Bi-Han.
Your hand is itching to reach out for him, but you feel like he’s cross with you, and you aren’t up for the embarrassment of him possibly pulling away from you right now. Not after such a good morning with him, waking up in his arms is what has kept you so positive today.
Looking up at him you try and decipher what he’s thinking right now, his face has fallen back into his usual stoic look. Though he is staring at Johnny, eyes alight with thinly veiled anger.
You turn to your other side and look at Kuai Liang, he meets your eyes and leans down to whisper to you, “he has never been good at sharing.”
Oh. Oh.
It’s clicked for you; you knew he was angry, but you didn’t know exactly why. It was just a training exercise, one you were trying to win however you could, but to Bi-Han it might have looked different.
You whisper back to Kuai, “thanks.”
He nods once at you before looking forward again, watching Kenshi and Johnny spar. It is quite the sight, they’re a bit less restrained than what your round with Johnny was. You don’t know if that’s because Kenshi is actually trying to harm Johnny or because you’re a woman and they go easy on you. That stings a little if it’s the latter, you deserve the respect of a proper fight.
You go to move closer to Raiden and Kung Lao, planning to re-join the training but Bi-Han’s hand grabs onto your wrist. Keeping you in place beside him, it makes your heart flutter. He pulls away fairly quickly, not lingering for too long, for fear of the others seeing. But the small action makes you feel a little better, he’s pissed but he still wants you near him.
Johnny loses to Kenshi; you think if he hadn’t fought you first, they might have ended up in a stalemate.
Kenshi points to you from where he’s standing, “you’re up again, sugar.”
You laugh, apparently that’s catching on amongst the group. You can feel Bi-Han stiffen beside you. Not enjoying any of this.
“Gimmie a sec,” you call out to him. Turning to Bi-Han you say, “calm down, please.” You say it softly enough so to anyone else it’s inaudible.
You walk over to Kenshi, ready to spar again. Bi-Han lets you go this time, knowing he can’t make a scene but really wanting to.
You beat Kenshi but only barely, you’re tired and sore. Which you do complain about, but after Kenshi, you stop trying to go so hard. You spar against Raiden and Kung Lao, but you are stuck on defensive, attack isn’t your strong suit and with how tired you are the most you can do is hope to out manoeuvre them, not able to pull anything like what you did with Johnny in the first round. Not unless you want to injure yourself.
If you were using a weapon, you would fare better but alas, you are but a woman who got fucked silly last night and already sparred against two men. And two out of two, is a pretty good score. You take your losses like a champ and take your wins like a champ too.
The rest of training was hell for Bi-Han, you could tell by the way his eyes never left your form. His anger increasing with every hand that was on your waist or flirtatious remark made, ones you did not return. Ones that had him pissed anyways.
He normally wouldn’t stay for this, finding it a waste of his time to watch armatures train but he stayed today. The whole time, he stayed, and he watched you.
❆˖°
There wasn’t a second of the day where you were alone, and not a second you could slip away either. You probably could’ve made an excuse, but you feel that might have been too obvious, mostly because if you had managed a moment to yourself Bi-Han would’ve followed you wherever you went. Meaning any attempt, you made to be inconspicuous would have gone out the window.
Either way, the result was your whole day being spent with everyone, while a very watchful Bi-Han never strayed too far from you. You have only just now been released from the company of everyone, and it’s already evening.
Finally, back in your own room and able to shower, enjoying the hot water running over your body. It’s been a long day, and the heat of the shower is helping to cleanse the hard day off your skin. Muscles completely relaxing under the stream, you’ve been tense all day, partly because of training but mostly because of the eyes watching you.
Your mind drifts to Bi-Han, jealousy looked hot on him, it also looked… deadly. You might have to sneak back over to his room again tonight, to talk with him. Assure him that you want no one else, maybe talk to him about what exactly is happening between the two of you.
Spending the night in Bi-Han’s bed sounds inviting, waking up in his arms tomorrow would be nice. The urge to be domestic with him is growing, something simple, like breakfast together or maybe a date? You think you’d like that, being asked on a date, taken somewhere and doted on. The idea makes your cheeks blush softly, not that it’s noticeable, the water is running hot; your skin already flush. Turning off the water, you exit the shower. Pulling the fresh towel off the sinks basin, you dry yourself off and then wrap it around your body.
When you leave the bathroom the last thing you expect to see is Bi-Han waiting for you, standing in the middle of your quarters; arms crossed over his chest and an angry look in his eyes. It isn’t what you expected to see but if you’re honest with yourself, you could have predicted it. He looked like he wanted to speak with you all day, it’s not shocking that he didn’t wait for you to go to him. He is not patient; you already know this about him.
He just stares at you, like he has been doing all day, so you speak first, “Hello?”
You probably could have picked something more eloquent to say but you aren’t sure of yourself right now. Plus, you feel exposed, he’s fully dressed and you’re in a towel, and you’re damp. Really, he could’ve waited an extra minute or something and you would’ve been more prepared for whatever he’s about to say.
“I am not… pleased,” he’s straining himself trying to express how he honestly feels. It would be amusing if you didn’t feel so self-conscious right now.
“I noticed.” You don’t really know where he’s going with this, so you don’t have anything else to offer in response.
He takes a breath, “Today was a challenge, for me, watching others touch you, flirt with you.” His words come out with empty space between them, empty but filled with his bitten back rage.
You feel bad, honestly but you felt like no lines were seriously crossed, not for you anyways.
“Bi-Han, it was harmless, they are harmless. I am not interested in any of them.”
You can tell he is trying so hard for you, trying so hard not to lose his cool, “That may be true, but they are certainly interested in you.”
“They’re my friends, they are not interested in me.” You tell him because you genuinely believe it.
“They want you.” His upper lip pulls into a scowl.
You shake your head at him, “What makes you think that?”
“The way they look at you,” he says, his arms straining against his chest.
You don’t really know what he means, “they… look, at me?”
“They look at you how I look at you.” His eyes squint at you, adding emphasis to his statement.
You smile a little, “and how do you look at me?”
His head lowers to his chest, eyes harsh as he pins you with a look “with want.”
You don’t really know what to offer him right now, “What would make you feel better?”
“Their deaths,” he shoots back quickly.
You roll your eyes at him, “you aren’t killing them.”
“Then, I want them to know you’re taken.”
You exhale sharply, “But you said–”
“–I know what I said,” he cuts you off abruptly, his eyes emotive.
The room is quiet, you’re giving him time to pull his thoughts together. It’s obvious he has more to say, he just doesn’t know how to. Your gaze wanders over him, his arms, his chest, his neck, lips, eyes, his very pretty eyes.
You go to speak, not able to keep your thoughts to yourself, “Bi-Han, I like you, and I only want you. I don’t know how much that helps, but it’s what I’ve wanted to say to you all day.”
His gaze softens slightly at your words, you’ve offered him at least some solace, “It helps.”
You’re glad it does, “now, I need to change, could you turn around, please?” You ask. Preferring to continue this conversation fully clothed.
He makes a face, like he’s deep in thought, “why would I? I’ve seen you naked before.”
You look at him, unamused. To get dressed in front of someone is a very vulnerable display, you’d rather he just turns around for a minute. Especially since his eyes have a way of devouring you.
He shrugs his shoulders at you, “I wouldn’t bother dressing.”
“And why is that?” You ask.
“Cause I’m ‘bout to fuck you.” He stalks toward you, placing a hand on your hip and the other on your face; his thumb traces your bottom lip. “Gonna fuck you right, enough so you can’t train tomorrow.”
“Should I be concerned?” You ask, mostly to tease but he’s also got the look of a beast hunting its prey. It sends chills through your body, his words making you buzz with excitement.
“Yes.” His eyes look over your neck and collarbones, the marks he left last night still there. They’ve bloomed into dark purples, the softer ones a yellow.
His hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, touching the marks he had left. His eyes have fire in them, pleased with the hickeys he’s left on you. His expression is making your body temperature rise. You don’t know what he’s going to do to you but it’s thrilling, the way he takes you in.
“It’s a shame you hid these today, left them to be seen.” His eyes don’t leave the marks on your skin.
“It was embarrassing enough for Kuai to see them.”
He smiles and looks into your eyes, his smile is humourless, “I don’t care.”
You pout at him, you wish he would, he’s completely shameless. The one who brought up keeping this entanglement a secret but not doing anything to keep it that way.
“Mmm, you’re at my mercy tonight, completely.” He informs you.
That surprises you, “I wasn’t last night?”
His smile turns ravenous, “not even close, sugar.” He spits out the nickname, like it’s burnt him. Showing his disdain for your newly ordained nickname amongst the guys, courtesy of Johnny.
“Don’t call me that.” You don’t wanna be called that, not by him.
“Why not? Don’t like it?”
You shake your head at him.
“Like when I call you sweet girl?” He asks, gently.
Nodding your head at him, you say, “prefer it.”
“’Course you do.”
He leans down to you, lips catching yours, this kiss is languid at first. Searching, he takes his time, working you open slowly. His thumb eventually pulls your jaw down, opening your mouth for him, tongue entering it. He hums against you, always pleased at how pliant and willing you are.
Pulling back from your lips, he says as much, “the virtue of politeness, sometimes think you’d let me do whatever I want.”
“I would.” It’s honest, your words. You don’t mean for them to come out at all, let alone that quickly.
It should concern you, how willing you are. But the man has such an odd effect on you. Nothing has ever felt like this, you’ve had very few relationships, and they don’t even hold a candle to the way you feel for Bi-Han. The vulnerability you display with him makes you feel… well, vulnerable.
His eyes are bright at your admission, loving the way you agreed, “good, sweet girl.”
His face leans into your neck, inhaling your skin. You tilt your head back, giving him more room and he hums appreciatively. He lays gentle kisses against your skin, at least, at first he does, then he bites you. In the crook of where your neck meets your shoulder, he bites down hard enough to leave a mark.
The pain makes jump slightly, a strangled noise coming from you. His tongue laves over the spot, soothing it. His lips kiss up your neck and jaw, before taking yours in a heated kiss. Fervent, filled with need. His kiss deep and long, it pulls a whine from you, a noise you were trying to conceal. You haven’t forgotten you want to try and be quieter.
Bi-Han keeps kissing you, tongue borderline reverent, worshipping your mouth. Swallowing the noises you make against him. Your arms clutching the fabric of his shirt, holding on. Feeling as though, if you were to let go, you’d fall into an invisible pit below you. Your grip on him grounding you, barely.
When he pulls back, it’s to let you catch your breath for a moment. Huffing against his mouth faintly, he takes the opportunity of your mouth being open to lean in again and place more full kisses on your lips, pulling back after each one but they’re all filled with the desire he carries for you.
His kisses are overwhelming you, your eyes wet with need, he’s done nothing but kiss you and it’s setting you on fire. Using the hands on his chest you push him back slightly.
His hands move to cradle your face, one of them brushing your damp hair back, “what’s wrong, sweet girl?”
“Devastating, your kisses… are devastating.” Eyes big as you look up at him.
He smiles down at you, “good, they’re meant to be.” His eyes, always his eyes, so much depth, yearning, “I want you needy, want you overcome by me, want you to think of nothing but me, consumed by your own cravings.”
He pauses for a moment before adding, “want you to feel, how I feel about you.”
Heart pounding at his words, you need him to know, “I already do feel that way.”
“No, you don’t… but you will, when I’m finished with you.”
He kisses you again, holding your head in his hands; moving you so your mouth slots against his, the cruel kiss a contrast to the gentle cradle he's holding you in. Sliding his hands down to your hips he guides you to your bed, removing his mouth from yours to push you back on the bed.
Holding your towel as you fall, you flop against the mattress, bouncing a bit as your back hits it. You adjust yourself, so you’re resting on your forearms, Bi-Han is watching you from above deliberating his next move. He settles on undressing his upper half and removing his boots, leaving his pants on. The process takes a bit, the man wears far too many layers, but you enjoy the show anyways.
Then his hands are reaching for you, he pulls at your towel. You go to hold onto it and his eyes move to yours, “off.”
“I’m shy,” you sulk at him.  
He scoffs in return, “too bad.” And then he’s pulling it off and out from under you, your back lying flat on the bed again. The display of his strength making your pussy throb.
Your hands move to cover your chest, legs closed together. Being completely bare in front of someone is always a little nerve-wracking at first. Especially when he’s making you feel like you’re about to be eaten whole. That and because he’s still wearing pants, it’s making you feel overexposed compared to him, you guess, at least he took off his shirt.
He shakes his head at you, he crawls onto the bed and over top of you, knees resting either side your thighs. He nods towards your hands covering your chest, “c’mon, sweet girl, be good for me.”
Damn, well now you have to, you want to be good for him. Bastard. You move your arms away, dropping them beside your head.
“Thas a good girl.” He smiles at you; he has a pretty smile.
His praise goes straight to your core, your thighs rub together mindlessly in response. Seeking friction on their own accord. He’s dragging this out, not touching you anywhere, not with his hands anyways.
Moving closer to you, his lips peck yours, and then the side of your face, down to your neck again. He licks over the bite mark he left, before moving further down, marks being left in his wake. More hickeys will be blooming on you tomorrow morning. He’s trailed down between your breasts, sucking a mark between them both before catching one of your nipples in his mouth.
The feeling has your back arching off the bed, his tongue flicks at it. He bites it softly as he pulls away, switching to the other and giving it the same attention as the first.
His mouth moves back up your body, sucking more marks into you as he goes. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, this needy, you didn’t think you could get this wet.
Slick spread over your inner thighs, leaking from you as he presses his wet mouth against your skin. It’s the longest he’s teased you with his mouth without speaking. You, yourself are breathless, not able to string together a coherent sentence. Actively avoiding it too, biting at your own lips to keep your sounds from reaching the air.
He leans back to marvel at your skin, shiny from the wet marks his mouth has left, already beginning to bloom pinks and reds. He looks unbelievably pleased with himself and his handy work.
“Mm, perfect, look fucken perfect all marked up by my mouth.” His eyes look back into yours. Eyes thrilled at the need in your own.
“Bi-Han, please.” You aren’t quite sure what exactly you’re asking for, but he seems to know.
He shushes you as he shuffles a bit, slipping one of his legs between yours to spread them open. When he can see your pussy, he sees how wet you are, and he lets out a wolf whistle at it, grin enthusiastic as he looks at the evidence of your arousal.
“Fucken, look at you, sweet girl, sweet, needy girl.” His gaze is greedy, “haven’t even fucken, touched you.” He’s sincerely astonished by your bodies reaction to him.
Both his hands go to pull your legs apart properly, moving them to the outside of his thighs. Manoeuvring you how he pleases, your mind numbed and agreeable. Having forgotten your previous shyness.
“Gonna touch you now,” he warns you; you aren’t really sure why.
His thumbs pull your lips apart, and then he moves a finger through your slit; you understand his warning now. He has used his powers to make his hand ice, the cold a shock to your system. Both of your hands shoot up to cover your mouth.
The glide of his finger on your pussy is smooth, the wetness coming from you making it slick. He notches two of his fingers at your hole and then he’s pushing in, stilling them when they’re in as far as they’ll go, the freezing cold a shock, a whiny gasp coming muffled behind your hands. Your pussy hole flutters around his fingers, Bi-Han is awestruck, watching your cunt react to his cold fingers.
“Look at you, mmm, so wet, so messy, perfection.” He’s mumbling it more to himself than you, wouldn’t matter if he was talking to you, you’re a bit preoccupied right now.
His thumb reaches up to your clit, the sudden cold feels like a lot, feels devastating. He doesn’t move his thumb, just holds it there, adding pressure. Your hips rise marginally, seeking friction, wanting more. Wanting his fingers to move.
Taking the hint, his fingers start moving, pace increasing slowly, sliding in and out of you, then back into you, crooking to rub against something cataclysmic. The cold of his fingers a deep contrast to the hugging heat of your walls. Your cunt clenches down on his fingers harshly, the wet of your arousal and his ice fingers too slick to slow down his movements.
Your hands stay covering your mouth, muffling your whimpers but not stopping them. He’s finger fucking you in full earnest now, eyes never leaving the way your pussy pulls his fingers back in. He doesn’t want to miss a single moment, enjoying the shudders and clenches of your cunt against his fingers. The thumb on your clit starts moving, rubbing controlled circles into it.
It doesn’t take you long to cum at all. Your back bows off the bed, toward him, your eyes roll back in your head and a silent cry is pulled from you. Bi-Han groans, enjoying the sight of you blissed out.
“Mmm, thas it, perfect, just like that, sweet girl…” He continues babbling praises to you as you cum all over his ice-cold fingers.
The pleasure is foreign, never having experienced an orgasm this strong from just someone’s fingers. A statement that also was previously said about Bi-Han’s ability to finger fuck you into next year, he’s now bested his prior record. The introduction of his ice powers having an incredibly overwhelming effect on your pussy.
“Always so fucken sensitive,” it’s a compliment, he means it as one anyways.
He moves to press soft kisses onto your face, giving you a second to catch your breath and come back to Earth, having levitated to a higher plane temporarily.
When you can think coherently again you look him in the eyes, they feel foggy. He reaches his hand up and brushes a stray tear from your cheek, one you hadn’t realised fell.
“Not even close to being done with you yet, sweet girl. Need you to fucken, pull it together.”
You nod your head at him, “I’m here.”
“Good.” He replies simply.
He hops off you for a moment, removing his pants before coming back into your view. Back between your legs, positioning them on his hips again. He drags the head of his cock through your folds, he taps it against your clit a couple times, each tap sending a small shock through your body.
“Fuuuck, I’ve got an idea.” The smile on his face is downright diabolical. It sends a rush through you.
He puts the tip of his dick at your pussy hole, having used your arousal to coat his cock, easing the stretch and helping the slide as he presses into you. You let out small, contained whimpers, biting your lip again, hoping to remain quiet.
Bi-Han groans at the feel of you wrapped around him, closing his eyes, trying to control himself as he sinks deeper into you. Both his hands have an iron clad grip on your thighs, holding you open and grounding himself.
“I fffucked you last night and you’re still this – ngh – goddamntight.” He huffs out.
He pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath and then pushes all the way into you. The way he suddenly fucks into you taking you off guard.
“Bi-Hannnn” you moan out his name.
“Ah, there she is, my sweet, whiny, girl.” He has a cocky smirk on his face, “told you, you couldn’t be quiet.”
You roll your eyes at him, and he grinds down into you in response, unhappy at your response. “Don’t be rude, I’m being nice.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” you retort.
The smile on his face is amused, “trust me, I’m being downright chivalrous right now.”
He readjusts his gaze down to your cunt, a hand coming off your thigh and moving to your clit. His fingers begin thrumming against it, the first orgasm lingering in your veins. The taps serve your overstimulation, body and pussy jumping at each tap.
He smiles wide at your bodies reaction, groaning lightly at each jump of your cunt. Your hands move back to your mouth to conceal your moans again, he allows it, for now.
He starts tapping his fingers against your clit harder and faster, the pleasure sending you over the edge far quicker than your first orgasm. You clench down on his cock and cum all over it. Bi-Han lets out a repressed grunt at your orgasm.
“Haah – thas what I fucken wanted,” He’s satisfied with himself, hypothesis being proven correct, he can slap your pussy into an orgasm. “Tight little – do you think you can do that again?” He asks you.
You shake your head no at him and he tuts in response, “I think you can.”
He continues slapping your clit, the force he uses increasing. Speeding up once again, slapping your clit, forcing another orgasm from you. You cum with a yelp, the overstimulation becoming too much on your clit. Reaching your hands down you hold the hand that was slapping it still.
Looking up into your eyes, you can see a devious smile on his face, “you really are sensitive.”
His dick is twitching inside you, his own arousal evident. Rock hard and wanting but not giving himself anything more than kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. He lets you hold his hand back, enjoying the way you’re squirming under and around him. Letting you have a moment to come down before he does whatever he has planned next.
“I want you to know, this is me reminding you who you belong to.” He’s removing your hand from his, placing both his hands back on your thighs and grinding his dick into you.
“I don’t – mmph – need a reminder – hah.” You never forgot.
“Seems like you do, gonna have to mark you up, have you cum around me so much that anyone else is completely ruined for you, by me.” He’s huffing softly, “Gonna fill you with my cum, leave marks on your body, have your muscles aching and sore, just so you can never forget who fucks you this good.”
You whine, cunt clenching down on him, you bite your lip again halfway through your whine, remembering to keep the volume down. Something not overtly necessary since your quarters are furthest from everyone else’s but not willing to take the chance anyhow.
He chuckles cruelly at you, “mine now, sweet girl. Can’t even leave if you tried.”
“Okay,” is your simple response because you are okay with it.
You gasp, “you can’t either though.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He begins to draw his hips back, fucking back into you unforgivingly, beginning a rough pace.
His cock bullies its way into you, over and over and over again. Fucking you stupid, making you dizzy, the previous orgasms furthering the euphoric, fucked out look on your face. Bi-Han lets out a wry laugh at the expression you’re making, only to be cut off by his own moan.
His hands move your thighs up, folding you in half, positioning himself up slightly and fucking directly down into you. Using your thighs as leverage.
His eyes watch the way your cunt swallows him, loving the way you take all of him. His head moves forward and bites the part of your thigh just about your knee. The pain sending pleasure rolling down your spine, hips rising to grind into his thrusts, pussy clenching down onto him.
“Gods, the way you let me do whatever – ngh – I want to you, gonna blow my load thinking about it.” He gasps melodiously.
The room filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, your supressed whimpers and Bi-Hans bitten back gasps. You clamp down onto him so tightly his pace falters for a second, you’re cumming around him again.
He stops thrusting immediately when he realises you are, he rubs at your clit to help it along but won’t continue thrusting into you. You ride out your high, waves of pleasure crashing over you, eyes dazed and unseeing as you spasm around his length. Soft groans and whimpers are coming from Bi-Han as you cum around him for the third time.
When you’re back in your body, Bi-Han looks feral from holding back, holding off on his own orgasm. Wanting you to cum on his dick an undetermined number of times.
Once he’s calmed down and is sure he isn’t going to cum prematurely, he starts fucking back into you, same burning pace. He moves your legs over the crook in each of his arms, cradling your legs and holding onto your hips.
Including the three he coaxed from you, it’s another additional two orgasms before he says, “last one, last one and then – nghhhh – I’m cumming inside you so – mphh – deep, I’ll be leaking from you tomorrow.”
You blush at his words, babbling nonsense, having given up on repressing the noises you make an orgasm ago, “mmmkay, I – ngh – want it Grandmasterrr…”
“And you’ll – fffffucken take it – nghhh–”
He fucks into you, hitting something deep, it feels different from all the other orgasms, you try to warn him, “fffeels different, Bi-Hannnn, is too much – I can’t –”
“You can and you – mphh – will,” he bites back.
You’re shaking your head at him, eyes large and wet, “nooo, mm feels like I’m gonna pee–”
His face lights up excited, “you aren’t going to pee.”
You’re still shaking your head at him, but his hand reaches up, off your hip and grabs onto your face, squishing your cheeks between is large fingers.
“Look atme – ngh – let. it. happen.” His tone is demanding.
“Yes, Grandmaster.”
His smile is large and beautiful, his pace never stopping. Now dedicating his full attention back to fucking you. The tip of his cock bullying the spot that’s responsible for the foreign feeling. Specifically angling his thrusts to drive into the spot.
His hand slides from your face down to your tits, grabbing one of them and twisting your nipple, sending a sharp pleasurable feeling through you, before continuing the move down and landing on your hip again. Using his grip to encourage the force of his thrusts.
And then suddenly, you’re cumming, hard, Bi-Han’s eyes watch, fucked out, as you cum around him. Cunt tight, vice like grip on his cock. The sight of you cumming and the feeling driving him over the edge. A sharp biting sensation at your hips, you’re too fucked out to register what caused it at the moment.
His cum fills you up, spilling out around his dick, leaking out onto the bed between your bodies.
You’re gasping as you begin registering the things around you again, first noticing the thin layer of ice on your hips, evidence of Bi-Han completely losing control for a moment. And then noticing how wet Bi-Han’s pelvis is, all down his thighs, all down your thighs.
You stumble over your words, “I – I’ve never, I didn’t think–”
“–You fucken, squirted all over me, hottest thing I’ve ever seen, my sweet, sweet, sensitive girl.”
He drops your legs from where they’re resting on his arms, untangling you from him and then leaning down and kissing you deeply. You return his kiss and whimper into his mouth. When he pulls back, he kisses away the tears you shed from the devastating force of the orgasm he just gave you.
His pride is practically blinding you, his ego massively inflated right now, “you’ve got such a creamy little cunt, I thought you’d be able to squirt for me–”
Your hands shoot up and cover his mouth to stop him from talking, his words that serve as compliments to him always embarrass you. He’s too blunt, it makes your skin hot.
“Too descriptive.” You tell him.
He mumbles against your hands, “what?” You ask him and pull your hands back.
He smirks at you, “you like it, I can be even more descriptive, if you’d like.”
You shake your head at him, “that was embarrassing.” Your words are all slurred right now. No energy to talk properly.
“Shouldn’t be, it was hot, means I fucked you right,” he whispers into your ear, “means I’ve ruined all other men for you.”
And he has, but “that was true before,” you turn your head to the side and press a kiss to his cheek.
He pulls his cock out of you, both of you hissing at the feeling, then he rolls off you and lays flat on his back.
“Sweet girl, always trying to kill me.”
You look over to him, eyes glazed, “do you feel better now?”
“Slightly, would feel better if they could all see the marks I left on you.”
You chuckle, “nice try, they’re not seein the light of day.”
He groans out, “we’ll see.” He pats his chest, signalling for you to cuddle into him.
You move over slightly before giving up, too tired and too sore, “can’t move.”
He rolls his eyes at you but gently moves you towards him, also moving closer himself to make it as painless as possible for you.
Your head rests on his chest and you cuddle into his side, “you’re changing my sheets,” you inform him.
He sighs from above you, “fine, but next time, you’re sitting on my face.”
❆˖°
A/N: You guys know the drill; I do not apologise for the horny, we embrace it here! Thank you for reading the whole thing!! I love you all and I hope you enjoyed it, please, if you have any thoughts, feelings, or requests, leave a comment or message me! I love the feedback I have been getting, I added some peoples suggestions into this chapter, I wasn’t super active this week because I tried functioning like a normal human being (I mostly failed) but I saw comments and likes coming in and it keeps me motivated and super grateful to you all. <333
Part four <3
409 notes · View notes
carolmunson · 1 year
Note
you would write the “hold me in their lap with a vibrator and ask questions” post as an eddie fic soooooooo well
thanks bestie 🥺 infact, here ya go. ft. switch!eddie. tw: small small small daddy kink.
he really hadn’t meant to turn it into a game. but you were soooo grumpy when you got home and you couldn’t find the words to explain it. slamming things, throwing your coat on the desk when you got in. you didn't even give him a kiss hello at first and when you did it was barely a peck.
‘i’m tired, ed, it’s fine — just, i wanna relax,’ you huff, ‘get off my back.’
he just wanted to make you feel better. cozied up on the bed with the tv on, he pulls you into his lap, letting you fall between his legs while he presses his thumbs to your shoulder blades. you immediately sink into the feeling of his strong hands kneading your shoulders and his heart swells — eddie ‘eager to please’ munson.
‘that feels really nice, baby,’ you mumble. his swollen heart thumps in his chest, flushing at the praise.
‘thank you,’ he replies softly, ‘c-can i um..’
‘hm?’ you ask, rolling your shoulders into his hands. the questioning hum was slightly clipped.
‘can i touch you somewhere else, miss? i promise you’ll feel nice when i do it there, too,’ he stammers out. you chuckle, low in your belly.
‘sure baby,’ you nod, still looking at the tv, ‘you can touch me there.’ 'you're so good, asking for permission,' you coo. eddie's boxer briefs tighten against his skin, filthy girl he thinks to himself. he'd been under you for the past two weeks, wrists bound to the bed with cuffs, tied up to the kitchen chair with his own bandana. edged and over stimulated, sucked and fucked, 'yes ma'am, yes ma'am, yes ma'am' for days on end.
his hand trails down slow between your thighs, you aren't wet yet which is discouraging. he brings his fingers back up with his mouth, coating them with spit while he free hand cups under the flesh of your thigh to spread your legs further and pull your panties to the side.
at the second touch, he feels the soft bounce of your hips in front of him, your quiet little gasp. 'that's good, miss?' he asks, your back pressing up against his chest. you let out a shaky breath.
'yeah...um, yes. yes baby,' you correct your voices posture quickly. but he caught it, that soft whine to start. he smirks.
'you don't gotta be so tough tonight, y'know,' he reminds you, ' pads of his fingers swirling deftly over your clit. a quiet 'mmm!' leaves your lips and he chuckles. 'why don't you tell me about your bad day, miss?' he asks, voice light and still laced with subservience. a soft 'schlick' starts to sound from under the threadbare blanket while you get wetter for him under his touch.
'well i um...' you start, voice lilting slightly. 'yeah?' he encourages, voice dipping slightly lower. 'everything when...unh, wrong,' you continue, one of his fingers dipping down to your entrance, circling it slowly. 'what went wrong, miss?' he asked again, voice dropping even lower, his register vibrating against your back. 'at work i...oh,' you sigh, hips circling in time with him while one of his fingers pulses knuckle deep inside of you. it's his turn to chuckle now, deep in his belly. he takes his fingers away and you try your hardest not to whine at the loss. he reaches into your side table for your wand, always kind to the both of you, setting it to a medium setting before running it along your inner thigh.
'maybe this will get you talking, hm?' he asks softly, chin hooking over your shoulder in the crook of your neck. you can smell his aftershave and feel the smooth slide of his chin against you, lips brushing your cheek when he speaks. you don't stop him, eyes already heavy lidded while his voice takes you over and the steady thrum of the vibrator on your thigh holds you hostage.
'take your panties off for me, miss,' he instructs gently, still calling you miss to not pull you all the way out of your control just yet. you needed to hold onto it until he knew you felt safe to let it go. your panties come off slowly, dropped off the side of the bed without care. he opens your legs again, fingers skimming your slit before settling the head of the wand over your lips.
'oh, oh my god,' you whine, hips shimmying away a little, but you only end up pressed closer between eddie with the toy closing in on you.
'what happened at work, angel?' he asks, free hand tucking the hair closer to him behind your back. the veins on his forearm raise as he presses the toy up a level. angel was one step down.
'assistant answered a...oh shit, oh my god...phishing sc-scam," you pant out, your hand finding his wrist. 'oh, that's awful honey. then what happened?' honey, middle of the road. he clicks the toy up another level, the buzz starting to fill the room. 'lunch g-got sto-stole...stolennnnnnmmmmm,' you groan back, orgasm starting to creep up on you, your grip on eddie's wrist tightening. 'poor thing,' he tutts, gliding the toy up and down your slick folds before rubbing it slow circles against your clit. your breath quickens and you spread your legs wider for him, whimpers pouring from your mouth. 'and then what, baby?' he asks, faux concern drenching his words. baby. he's slowly taking it from you, fire burns in his chest while you let him. '...and then what?' he bites.
'i...unh, mmm, i -- fuck -- i..." you babble out, unable to concentrate on the happenings of the day. maybe it wasn't so bad if you couldn't remember it. if getting this close to cumming would make you forget. maybe it wasn't such an awful day. maybe you were just doing too much and your boyfriend knows better, so you do this instead. he knows so much better than you, that's why he makes you feel so good.
you sigh, 'fuck, please more.' 'what a filthy mouth, princess,' he murmurs as a warning, a stern smack to your inner thigh making you jolt. princess. you're all his now, sunk completely against his chest, hips writhing below him. 'sorry, sir,' you cry out. 'that's not how you ask for more, baby,' he warns again, 'how do you ask me for more?'
white starts to build behind your eyes and you can't answer, thighs quaking while your orgasm overtakes you. it's silent but powerful, your grip on eddie's wrist tightening, only making him turn up the wand while your legs snap shut around him.
'how do you ask me for more?' he repeats.
'd-daddy, please,' you whine, 'please more.'
'that's a good girl,' he coos, voice deep and demanding, 'look at you, knowing your place so quickly. daddy's so impressed.'
he's more impressed with you, if he's being honest. but you didn't get to tell him all about your bad day until this next morning.
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moonstruckme · 7 months
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I ADORE your writing it is so so so amazing. Could i request poly!marauders x fem!reader who works in a store (maybe like a supermarket or something) and they keep coming because they "need" stuff but they actually just wanna see her and its all cute and flully and stuff?? If you don't wanna do it, no worries at all<3
Thanks lovely! Hope you enjoy it :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
You’ve barely flipped the sign in the front to open and begun restocking the tomatoes when the door opens. “Good morning,” you say automatically, a Pavlovian response to the chime of the bell. 
“G’morning, lovely,” a familiar voice replies, the curly-haired boy flashing a smile at you as he stops below your ladder. “How’s your day going?”
“Well, it’s—” you look at the clock behind the counter “—quarter past seven, so…so far so good.” 
“Happy to hear it.” His dark-haired, sharp-edged friend appears, startling you, and the curly-haired one holds up his hands, ready to steady you if you need it.
“Shit, Pads,” he says once it’s clear you’re not going to fall, “you don’t sneak up on someone on a ladder like that. You scared her.”
You give them both a tense smile. “It’s fine,” you say, mustering your best customer service voice (not an easy task with two of your best-looking customers standing so close to you). “I’m alright.” 
“Sorry, dollface,” Pads says, sending you a half-sheepish grin in return. You don’t really understand these nicknames they have for each other, but embarrassingly, they’re the only names you know them by. The same group of three boys has been coming by your store for months, almost every day, and it’s reached a point where it’d be too awkward to ask for their names. They’re by far your favorite customers, but you only know them as what they call each other. There’s Pads, Prongs, and…
“Moony, weren’t you saying we’re out of eggs?” Prongs asks.
The tall one comes into view, already holding three cartons of eggs. “Yeah, but I can’t pick. What’s better, free-range or organic?”
“Free-range,” you say, feeling your face heat when they all look up at you. “I mean, it depends on your preference, but that’s what I’d get.” 
There’s a beat of silence wherein you suspect the boys are exchanging silent communication and have to force yourself to keep your gaze on the tomatoes, and then, “Dove, I hate to trouble you, but would you mind helping us choose?” Moony’s voice is soft, unobtrusive but compelling. Of the three boys, you find him the easiest to talk to. Prongs oozes charm and Pads flirts like it’s breathing, but something about Moony’s calm demeanor is disarming. “You seem like you know a lot more than any of us.”
“I don’t know about a lot.” You shake your head dismissively, but you’re already starting down the ladder. You miss the last step, and warm hands grab your waist, lowering you cautiously to the floor. 
“Easy,” Prongs murmurs. 
Your heart’s in your throat, more from embarrassment than from the alarm at your near fall, and you understand why you’re blushing, but you don’t get why he is. 
Your “thanks” comes out as more of a breath than a word, but he gifts you one of those dazzling smiles anyway. You turn to the egg cartons like they’re your lifeline, trying to steady your breathing while you read the labels. 
“Um, yeah, so.” You clear your throat. “It’s pretty self-explanatory, but organic just means they give the chickens food without chemicals or anything, and free-range means they get a certain amount of space to roam in. I don’t think it changes how the eggs taste or anything, it just depends on what you think is most ethical.” 
Moony nods, looking like he’s mulling this over, but you can’t stand to stay under his gaze any longer than that. 
“Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with!” you squeak, abandoning your ladder to go tidy behind the counter. 
You’d think after months of these guys coming in you’d be used to them, but you’re not. They wind you every time. They’re obviously close, and you like to imagine them as housemates, maybe even lovers, with the way they seem to interact with such casual intimacy. So many of your customers barely look at you as they go about their business, and you don’t blame them for that, but these boys always have something to say to you. They’ll ask how your day is going, or whether you’ve tried the coffee shop down the road, or what you think of a new jacket. The way they talk amongst each other is so easy, and they talk with you like it should be easy too, but somehow you always manage to make it difficult for them. You’re too quiet, too nervous, too awkward. And yet they keep coming back. 
You’re not allowed much reprieve before Pads is sauntering up to the counter, free-range eggs in hand. He sets them on the counter. “Thanks for the advice, sweetheart.” 
“It’s no problem,” you say, distracting yourself with the manageable, routine tasks of your job. Scan the item, open the cash register, ask “Would you like a bag for that?”
“No,” he replies just as cordially, “but thank you.” 
Before he goes, he tucks a bill into the tip jar on the edge of the counter, just like always, and just like always, you don’t really know what to do with yourself. It’s not like it’s ever a massive amount of money, but still. They’re only your age. Unless they’re all heirs to separate fortunes or something, they probably have about as much money to spare as you do. And it’s so, so unnecessary, especially considering they come here every day to buy one or two items, and then leave you a tip—for what? For ringing them up? For having limited knowledge of chicken ethics?
“You really don’t have to do that,” you blurt, shrinking in on yourself sheepishly when all three boys turn to look at you, nearly out the door. “I just mean, you guys come here all the time. You only ever get a couple of items, it’s really not necessary to leave a tip every time.” 
The three boys look at you with varying degrees of bemusement, and Moony gives you a small smile. “We don’t mind,” he replies, at the same time as Pads says, “We like coming here.” 
“I just…you shouldn’t feel obligated to leave a tip just because you need something from the corner store. I’m sure you live nearby, right? It’s not like you have a bunch of options in this area.”
The ensuing pause stretches a moment too long, and you tilt your head curiously as both Moony and Prongs begin to blush faintly. “Well,” the latter says, looking about the store with forced casualness, “actually…”
Pads isn’t so tactful. “We don’t live nearby,” he says, gray eyes frank and unflinching. 
You blink. “No?”
Moony shrugs, looking alarmingly shamefaced. “No.” 
“We used to live around here,” Prongs supplies. “We just don’t anymore. Haven’t bothered to find a new store.” 
“Oh.” You hadn’t taken them for creatures of habit, but what all do you know about them really? “Um, where do you live now?” you ask, then want to hit yourself. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, I don’t mean to intrude—”
“No, it’s okay,” Moony says, in his usual kind way. “We moved down onto twenty second street.” 
Your mouth actually drops open. A giant O, and you can hear your mom telling you you’ll catch flies. Pads snickers at your reaction. But fuck, that’s nearly across town. It has to take them at least a half hour to get to your store from there, and that’s if they have a car. “I, um.” You shake your head, collecting yourself. “Sorry, that’s just so far. I used to live around there, actually.” 
Prongs perks up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, there’s a Tesco just a couple blocks down, on twenty third? And a Sainsbury’s and—oh! There’s a great local corner store not far from there, you should definitely check it out. They make their own bread.”
“Neat,” Moony says, nodding. “Thank you.” 
You smile, happy to help even though you’ll be sad to see them go. “Of course, anytime.” 
“Yeah, thanks gorgeous.”  Pads grins at you, tucking another bill into your tip jar and ignoring your squawk of protest. “See you tomorrow.”
You blink, wondering if you’d just invented the previous conversation, but they’re all starting for the door, acting as though nothing is amiss. 
Perhaps you’re feeling extra bold today, because you halt them for a second time. “But don’t you want to go somewhere more convenient?”
Prongs turns around, walking backwards towards the door. “Really appreciate the advice,” he says, “but we like this store just fine.” Moony shoots you a bashful sort of grin, and Pads winks—actually winks—over his shoulder. “So we’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
And, well, if they want to keep crossing town to come in every morning, far be it for you to stop them. You’d hate to drive off your best customers. “Yeah,” you echo. “See you tomorrow.”
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Text
Pick Me 1
Warnings: this is a dark fic which may contain noncon, violence, and other dark elements. Please keep in mind that all events and characters are fictional. Be mindful of the content you consume and pay heed to the warnings given.
Character: Tony Stark
This is a sister series to One
Note: Please feel free to leave a comment in the replies, a reblog, or my ask. I appreciate likes but I enjoy discussing with you all even more. Your time and feedback are truly appreciated 💞.
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You sit in the front row, like you do in every lecture. Just like you’re top of the class in every course. You don’t miss a class or a reading or a due date. Unlike the rest of your peers, you’re not here for the party life, you are here for an education’; for a future.
As your fellow pupils type their notes on their laptops, if they’re even bothering too, you’re writing each word by hand. You listen intently, eyes stuck to Professor Stark as he speaks with his hands, curling his fingers to emphasize his points. His voice carries effortlessly around the airy space, echoing in your ears.
You watch him just as rapaciously as you cling to his every word. His dark hair is laced with gray and his handsome features are lined perfectly with age. A man seasoned just right by the passage of time.
And he isn’t unaware of the effect he has, even on girls barely half his age, though there are few among his audience. Engineering tends to be inhospitable to the quote ‘fairer’ sex.
Yet his first-year physics is overcrowded with girls agog at his devilish smirk. It’s not lost on you how a wink could make one feel something or another. But you remind yourself that this is an academic setting and you shouldn’t be thinking of your professor in that light.
Besides, you’re not his type, are you?
You grimace as you pull your thoughts back to your slanted writing. Ugh, focus. You don’t need to watch Julie twirl her hair as she tries to snare Stark’s attention or notice how Lydia shifts in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. These girls are there for an elective, but this is a core course. You can’t mess this up.
As the three-hour slot comes to an end, a sigh of relief ripples through the rows of students. Lap desks are folded down and laptops snapped shut. A chatter buzzes through the lecture hall but you take your time packing up.
You close your notebook and pull your messenger bag into your lap. Lydia stands, hooking her purse on her shoulder as she fixes her skirt deliberately. She’s brazen enough to spend the lecture beaming up at Dr. Stark without taking a single word down. He doesn’t even seem to mind as she takes obvious selfies and pouts out her lips. It’s like a game to her. Not everyone has a rich daddy to buy their degree.
Julie gives a moping look but is dragged off by her sole companion. You spoke to them once on the first day but quickly realised they are too vapid to stomach. You curl your lip as you glance over at the steady tide of fleeing students. 
Lydia takes her chance to approach the podium. She leans on it as Stark powers down the projector. You can’t hear her churlish whispers but he chuckles in return. As he looks at her, a gleam in his dark eyes, you stare. It’s like you don’t even exist.
She reaches to touch his sleeve and he leans in. His silty tone rolls through the silence but his words are indiscernible. You bite the inside of your lip. You’re right there. How could he want those dumb girls and their overglossed lips? You have a brain, you have substance.
Uh, but aren’t you just as stupid? Thinking about it at all. Wandering off in your mind when you should be studying? Spending those moments before your staggered sleep picturing Dr. Stark and his trimmed goatee, wondering if his silvered hair is as soft as it looks.
Pathetic. You sling your bag on your shoulder and march to the door. You grab the handle and pull it open, the hinges whining. You cringe and glance back. You’re a ghost, you are air, you are nothing to them. How can that be?
Neither of them notice you. They are close, so close. You could stay and watch them and they wouldn’t even know. Professor Stark shamelessly reaches to hook his finger down the front of Lydia’s shirt, given a tug as he leers at her cleavage. She giggles and you leave before your stomach turns.
You don’t want to be like Lydia. Or Julie. Or the countless other girls who’ve passed over his office desk. You don’t want to be another tick mark. You don’t know what you want. You just want that knot in your chest to come undone. It’s a distraction you don’t need.
You could never be jealous of those girls. With their short skirts and crackly trills. You could never fawn over a man with that dumb look on your face. You don’t want to simper to Dr. Stark, you want to have a discussion with him, to learn from him, to witness his genius. Those girls signed up because they needed to fill a box and because they knew his reputation. You sat on the waitlist for a month because you want to be the best so you need to learn from the best.
No, you are not like them.
Your fists ball so tight your nails jab into your palms and your jaw aches from gritting your teeth. It isn’t envy, it’s indignity. They don’t deserve to sit in those seats, they don’t deserve to take in his brilliance all the while it slips in one ear and leaks out the other. 
You just don’t get why he humours them. You don’t get how they are his type. They are empty. They are dull. You might not have the experience but you highly doubt they offer much more on their backs.
Well, you’ll be there next semester, in Physics II and they’ll be off to their arts classes, learning verbs and writing redundant papers on the meaning of the colour blue. He doesn’t see you now but he will. How could he not? You are not like the other girls.
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astarion-approves · 8 months
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Omg can you write a small little drabble about kissing/biting astarions ears? I am not immune to elfs 😭😭😭
Astarion x GN! Tav
Slightly NSFT - implied sex, ear kissing, ear biting, ear massage, first person POV. 600+ words
---
The first thing I noticed about him were his ears.
Pointed and long, the smallest tint of red at the tips from the sunlight that bore down upon his back—
Your typical elf ears, belonging to a man with a dagger poised in my direction and a wicked smile across his lips. I held my hands up in defense, promising no ill will towards the man if he were to just lower the weapon.
We became quick allies, and even faster friends.
Astarion was the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, although he would certainly deny it if anyone were to say it. Each decision along the way only making our friendship grow fonder—
To the point where I felt I could finally acknowledge those adorable, unbelievably cute ears of his.
“Have you ever thought of piercing them?” I asked one night, reaching up to run my fingertip just along the side. My friend shivering in response and soon slapping my hand away.
“And risk scaring my beautiful ears? Not a chance!”
I let the subject drop, but kept stealing glances at his ears. So very cute… and so very kissable.
The first time we laid together, my hands found their way into his hair, pulling his lips onto my own and claiming those lips. My thumb and index finger coming together to gently rub up his ear and to the tip. He moaned into my mouth, tilting his head into my touch and silently telling me ‘more.’
I soon found myself touching them at any opportunity. Anytime we would kiss, anytime we would lie side by side and whispering our newfound infatuation to one another late into the night…
“You have quite the little obsession, don’t you?” Astation asked while we cuddled in his tent together. He was so firm yet comfortable in my arms, I let my lips graze against his ear as he arched his back into my chest. “Always touching my damn ears.. as if they’ll fall off my head one day.”
“We can never be too sure,” I replied. My breath cascading down his ear and his neck. I gave the tip a soft kiss, followed by an even softer bite. “I adore them.”
“And here I thought it was me that you adored. Of course, you were only after my ears,” Astarion teased. But he lowered his head back, his eyes closing as he sighed and gave no protest. My tongue traced over the edge of his ear, up to the point where I kissed him again, Astarion groaning in reply and taking my free hand to the front of his trousers.
He rolled over to kiss me, his hands sliding down my chest and pushing me into my back as he moved to straddle me. It was instinct now to bare my exposed neck to him, openly trusting him to feed from me without worry. As his teeth lowered to my neck, I gently caressed his ears, massaging them as he bit into my flesh…
We moaned together as my blood hit his tongue, his distraction prompting him to finally attempt kissing his ears as he fed from me. His reaction was perfect, his bite a little harder, his hands shaking as he held me, his hips twitching as he continued.
“I love you, Astarion,” I mumbled and kissed his ear once more, letting my eyes close as I gave into the warmth of his embrace.
In the morning he would laugh as how his ears must be black and purple from my bites and incessant kissing during our love making—
But then he hugged me when no one was looking, and whispered his own confession.
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