#this is a garment you make while avoiding wasting ANY FABRIC. AT ALL.

[maibluemen]

🌵🍄 and 🔪!

writers’ truth or dare asks!

🌵: share the link to a playlist you love

big fan of @doomspiral ‘s gil playlist!

🍄: share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

hmm modern day, gil definitely has a key to tolys’s house but almost never uses it, he pretty much always just breaks in sfdfd

🔪: what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

amusingly i don’t think this qualifies as weird by writer standards so much, but i am always interested in reading about drugs lol. it started the first time i read catch-22, there was a passing mention of ether and i didn’t know what it was…less interested in inhalants these days but i can tell you about pervitin. make of that what you will. (i mean i can also tell you about inhalants and how wrong hollywood gets them sfdfd but)

hypothermia is probably the most uhh environmentally-induced danger i’ve researched in depth. again idt it’s that weird, but i do know a fair amount about it lol

and i tend to get caught on looking up really mundane things like “when was whitewash invented” “what did the transit of [city] look like in [year]” “how many pieces of fabric would it take to construct this garment” etc (that last one can be surprisingly hard to find info on for modern—post industrialization—western fashion btw! but it can tell you a lot about the resources available at the time and such, and can testify to how old certain garments are eg hanfu, the body of which is traditionally only made with one piece of fabric—so there will only be one seam down one side of it—which indicates it’s pretty old. kimono likewise the main body is made with two pieces of fabric, and there is a seam down the center back which will usually be covered by the obi…etc…)

[belit0]

Madara gets idea to fluster his crush by taking off his shirt on a hot day while they train on konoha training grounds. 😤 ( she totally gets a nose bleed like Kakashi with icha icha lol). 👀

We all need a Madara in our lives, don't we?

TW: none Pairing: Uchiha Madara / reader NSFW

He knows what he is doing.

He is aware (Y/N) will never admit accompanying him on his workouts is simply to watch him exert himself, how it arouses her to see the sweat running down his smooth skin when he gives it his all.

There's something about his power that drives her crazy, and Madara doesn't understand it, but he exploits it to the fullest. Knowing the sensation that will course through her body when she sees him exhale a Katon, how her mouth will water when he does push-ups, how her crotch will become profusely wet as she witnesses him towel-drying himself.

All of this he abuses, and she has no way to avoid it.

Today is no exception, either.

(Y/N) is sitting under the cool shade of a tree on this hot summer afternoon reading a book, while Madara wastes no time. He vigorously pursues his training and strains each of his muscles to the max. Izuna couldn't join him, so he thinks this is his perfect opportunity to take advantage of her.

The sun is terrible, radiating almost unbearable waves of temperature. Of course, this works in his favor, because just after he has warmed up, he needs to take off his shirt. His broad chest is exposed, his biceps with no fabric barriers in between, and his back stretches at the release of the garment.

He is not unaware of how (Y/N) stealthily takes her eyes off her book, secretly watching his every move. She thinks he doesn't notice, and this makes him tender. Before tearing into her, he will exhaust his muscles as much as he can, just so he doesn't leave her so shattered afterwards.

He knows his stamina would allow him hours and hours of pleasure between her legs, but he doesn't think she can take it. She proved herself completely overwhelmed on the countless times he over stimulated her just for fun, and after several pleas, now he tries to wear himself out before devouring her.

Madara doesn't waste a second, practicing his new techniques and not leaving the usual ones behind. He promised a whole new repertoire of skills to Izuna for their next encounter, and he must make an effort if he wants to keep his promise.

Several hours pass, and by the time he finishes his routine, the sun is almost setting on the horizon. (Y/N) wrapped up her regular reading, resting her back against the trunk of a tree and writing a bit. Accompanying her man during the completeness of his training means taking along various activities to keep herself entertained.

Catching her off guard, he approaches her like a predator stalking its prey. He moves silently, and she doesn't notice until he's inches from her face. She is so startled she completely scratches the page she was preoccupied with writing, letting out a startled gasp.

"Madara! I told you to stop doing that!"

"I can't help it (Y/N), not when you're so focused on not paying attention to me."

"I observed 50% of your routine, you can't demand more than that..."

"It's not enough, I need your eyes on me all the time, (Y/N), all the time."

"What for, Madara."

"Because nothing gets my dick harder than knowing you’re getting wet when you see me training without a t-shirt."

At this remark, (Y/N) turned completely and furiously red. Not having expected such profanity, she looks around as if there was anyone who might have heard him.

"M-Mad-ara! Don't say things like that in public!"

"We're all alone... tell me, what could stop me, if I wanted to fuck you here and now, hm?"

"There's no way that's going to happen!"

"Oh yeah?"

He asks rhetorically, pouncing on her and trapping her between the tree and his body. Their lips connect with fervor, and while (Y/N) seems to struggle at first, she soon lets go. Madara handles her as he wishes, not needing to justify any of his moves.

He quickly turns the situation around, swapping places with her and pulling her up onto his lap. His bare back rubs against the hard bark of the tree, but the sensation of pain only adds euphoria and need to his kisses.

It isn't long before (Y/N) begins to press herself against his erect shaft, separated only by a few layers of clothing. She rubs against him energetically, seeking to stimulate him even if their skin is not in full contact. He responds to this with equal enthusiasm, moving his hips violently and grabbing her by the hair.

He jerks her head back sharply, exposing her neck and attacking it like an animal. Leaving a few colorful marks in his wake, he quickly unravels (Y/N)'s clothes. Before long, she is half-naked in front of his eyes, and he activates the Sharingan to record every moment.

Familiar with how the red color of his eyes completely triggers her, (Y/N) reaches a level of arousal she didn't think possible. They both help each other free their pelvic area from any barrier of clothing, allowing Madara to penetrate her quickly with abandon.

His cock enters smoothly, using the previous natural lubrication to its advantage. They both moan in pleasure as (Y/N) moves her hips on him, using him to achieve her own pleasure. Madara becomes an object she rides as she wishes, allowing her to move as she likes.

"Just like that baby, ride me however your little pussy wants."

"S-stop talking!"

Madara realizes every dirty word that comes out of his mouth will make her wetter and wetter, but she will never be able to admit it. They both cooperate with (Y/N)'s movements as they immerse themselves in needy kisses riddled with moans.

She reaches her peak screaming shamelessly, trembling on top of him and squeezing his shoulders tightly. Madara allows her to rest her head on his chest, stroking her hair and placing kisses on her crown. He still hasn't come out of her yet and is still completely hard, unfinished.

"Ready for round two, (Y/N)?"

[h4rr0wh4rk]

Harrow Cosplay Planning 2: The Hard Part

Friends, the harder yet more fun aspect of this cosplay is designing my version of Harrow's necromancer robes. While one could look at the series as sci-fi and have a lot of fun trying to design something more sleek and futuristic, like Harrow's canonical cover outfit, I have a deep love for historical costuming and overly ornate bullshit of all sorts, and as such will be leaning heavily into anachronism for the Reverend Daughter of Drearburh's more officious garments.

The line from chapter 7 about Harrow's disembarking outfit reads,

"Harrowhark did not care for any herald. She had drifted out like a black ship in sail, a bony figure wreathed in layers and layers of night-coloured cloth with a lace overcloak trailing behind her; adorned with bones, painted like a dead woman, eyes blindfolded with black net."

"Layers and layers" and "ship in sail" are the first things that give me ideas. When I think of the silhouette of a "ship in sail" I think long not wide. Now, maybe most of the train comes from that lace overcloak, but I think we would have more fun if the main gown itself had some volume in the skirt. I want to avoid any horizontally boned skirt supports, (so no drum farthingales, panniers, or crinoline cages) in order to maintain that long not wide effect. Initially, I thought about basing the main gown on a houppelande, specifically the one pictured here:

Rogier van der Weydan, c. 1443-1445

But as I thought about the practicalities of cloth usage in the ninth and this line Harrow has in chapter 6 of HtN, where she notices Jod's all-black attire, "he was dressed simply, as per usual, in a black shirt and trousers. The lack of tint had always pleased you. It was very Ninth, even the collar and the cuffs of his shirt that were scruffy and pilled from too much wearing," it became clearer to me that the houppelande was too wasteful in its fabric use. That fits more with one of the Tridentarii's diaphanous dresses than Harrow. So I looked instead to a much less wasteful garment, the kirtle:

Dieric Bouts, ca. 1455

Specifically, one that has the opening on the side like this example.

Daisy Viktoria Medieval Dress Pattern

But with more of this shape when standing. I like the continuous cut of the front pieces of the bodice and skirt, and we can add volume and length at the rear gore without adding bulk or extra fabric to the front or side gores.

I want to do a side button (because they actually have buttons! Woo not the 13th century!) opening to try and do something stupid. Given Harrow's propensity for turtlenecks, I want to try and add a side buttoning high neck collar, though whether that gets added to the kirtle or lace overcloak is anybody's guess right now. But if it does end up on the kirtle, getting into the gown will probably be easier if all the openings are on the same line.

To create the "layers and layers," the black kirtle will get a black shift and petticoat, an apron, a shawl, maybe a separate collar garment, kind of like a structured fichu, and the lace overcloak, which will objectively be the hardest thing to source. I'm not adding a surcoat because this is my design and I don't feel like it, it doesn't fit my goth 13th-century rococo vibe.

Speaking of rococo, I am tossing around the idea of adding robe-a-la-francaise-style box pleats to the gown to help support the length idea, but that might be too much.

The veil is a tad confusing. The way it's described in the quote above, as Harrow's "eyes blindfolded with black net," implies it may be more of a fascinator or even a true blindfold, but earlier in that same chapter, Gideon describes how, “The expression on the other girl’s face wasn’t disinterest or distraction, as she’d assumed; even through a layer of veiling, she could tell that Harrow was near-incapacitated with concentration,” making it seem like the veil is over her whole face. Out of a deep love of overdramatics, I'm taking the executive decision it's a full-face veil.

The veil I'm taking from Victorian mourning veils. I know it describes it as "net" in the quote, but in HtN, the Lyctor Hood is contrasted with it as such, "your new hood, unlike good Ninth House furze, was transparent enough to let you see quite clearly". I did some googling, and today it seems like "furze" is just a plant otherwise known as gorse, not a type of cloth or veil. However, if Harrow's veil were simply netting, she would be able to see out of it easily. I think this is a case where Gideon's unreliable narration and inattention to detail is kicking in. As such, I feel justified in using a more densely woven fabric for the veil itself.

The Met, Mourning Veil, 1900-1920

While this is technically probably Edwardian, the crepey silk used was common throughout the Victorian era.

I also like this type of headband I keep seeing fan artists (I will try to find sources and links in the coming days) put Harrow in to anchor the veil, so I would make a version that is not 50 dollars and is probably smaller.

ZiptieJewelry

The shoes would just be the shoes I get for the other version of this cosplay.

Adding all of the bone beading to the gown will be a bridge I burn when I get to it, it's going to be rough rough rough. I have no idea what I want to do in terms of rococoing this up, so expect at least a part 4 of the HCP series about that, (3 will be grease paint research) even if HCC (Harrow Cosplay Constructing) begins in the meantime.

If you made it all the way down here, thank you for reading all of that I am excited to work hard on it and show you what I come up with, and if you didn't:

TL;DR Gonna make a black kirtle for the necromancer robes and add some accessories

[rakites]

Questions to Ask When Purchasing Clothes

Asking the correct questions in advance will help you choose whether you should buy any new clothing. It is crucial to get appropriate responses when purchasing apparel to avoid blunders. Ensure you have all the necessary information before shopping in person or browsing an online apparel store. You run the danger of wasting time, money, and valuable closet space if you don't. Below mentioned are the questions to ask when purchasing clothes:

Where will you Wear it?

Undoubtedly, a New York Giants Sweatshirt comes in a striking color that can be attractive and flattering, but only if it ever leaves the rack. Think about a few settings or occasions where you can wear the outfit before you buy it. 

Is it Easy to Wash?

Many women make the error of purchasing garments that require frequent hand washing or dry cleaning, which is heavy maintenance. Assess your ability to properly maintain any high-maintenance clothing in terms of time, money, and effort. 

Is it Comfortable?

Running errands or caring for the household shouldn't be done while wearing scratchy clothing. Check the materials used in apparel before purchasing while shopping online, and search for fabrics you can wear frequently.

Does it Look Trendy?

Since Steelers Polo is the most adaptable and durable, most fashion experts will advise you to start with essential pieces while constructing a wardrobe. This will guarantee you purchase valuable things you can wear for many years. While experimenting with fashion trends can be entertaining, ensure the clothing you buy will be updated over the next few months.

Bottom line:

The most crucial piece of advice is always to be loyal to yourself when shopping for clothing. Be sure to purchase the Wisconsin Badgers Sweatshirts you adore. You must have it if you love it and feel beautiful in it. 

Visit-https://rakite.com/

[rubeekohn]

If you are Looking to design or redesign and install custom built-in robes in your own home in Melbourne and looking for info about custom built-in robes Melbourne...

You need to know how to find a reliable and affordable wardrobe installers in Melbourne.

Do you want to find a reliable and affordable wardrobe installers in Melbourne? Without having to continue wasting time trying to find a suitable built-in robes installer in Melbourne?

If you are interested in info about custom built-in robes Melbourne, you might like to know this unique way to utilise every available space in your bedroom for storage...

8 Tips To a Successful Wardrobe Design Project

There is one thing that any home – no matter what size - can never have enough of: storage! 

True, some homes simply lack the capacity to ‘manufacture’ more storage space, however, there are some basic measures one can take in order to significantly maximise the space in one’s home by using the best storage solutions available.

The following are 8 such measures that you can take advantage of and really make your wardrobe work for you!

1. Drawers

One of the most, if not THE most economical way to store clothes in your wardrobe is by using drawers.

Drawers take advantage of the full space from front to back and make it easy to access all items as there’s no need to reach behind or rearrange your clothes to get to the ones sitting at the back.

They are perfect for shorts, underwear, T-shirts and trainers as well as accessories and socks.

Naturally, some clothes can not be placed in drawers such as dresses, blouses or business shirts, which leads us on to our next wardrobe ‘must’ — hanging rails.

2. Hanging rails

Whether it’s for attire or fits, pressed shirts or garb crafted from fabrics that can crease without problems, striking rails serve quite a number capabilities.

Consider the use of a mixture of single and double rail (an upper and decrease rail) sections. The configuration you operate will rely upon the clothes you own so consider how many ‘hangable’ items you have, in order to avoid allocating too much precious clothes’ cabinet area to a single rail.

Tip: the use of thinner hangers like slim design velvet hangers over bulkier timber hangers, will let you hang extra garments on your hanging rail.

3. Pay attention to the lower region of your wardrobe

It’s much more convenient to focus on what’s happening at the eye-level of  your wardrobe — including rails and drawers — however an often neglected region of a wardrobe would be the lower area.

The ground is awesome and can be used for storing footwear however there’s a lot extra that can be done.

Using a stack of pull out shoe racks a top tip for this space. Products like shoe racks take up minimal space and may allow you to have three rows of stored shoes while avoiding the inevitable shoe pile that could form on the floor without it, and doing so without invading your hanging space.

Another idea you don’t often see is to use pull out laundry bags in this area. It helps to maintain your bedroom floor tidy, while allowing you to sort your clothes into ‘darks’ and ‘lights’ in order to make your laundry more efficient. 

4. Embrace inserts

While drawers are a definite must, there’s even more you can do to maximise this space —inserts!

Simply adding inserts such as jewellery drawer liners or small boxes for ties, can make better use of drawers while helping to protect these precious items which displays them more beautifully too.

You can find these at all price points from basic plastic ones through to luxury timber and velvet. If you feel like treating yourself and only buying a quality set once, you can’t look past these German designed beech timber drawer inserts.

5. Use trouser racks

There’s nothing better than finding storage solutions that are fit for purpose  like trouser racks.

Much better than using trouser hangers on a hanging rail, trouser racks pull out so you can easily see all your options without having to rifle through your wardrobe. It also instantly adds that deluxe wardrobe feel!

6. More on the internal aspects of the cupboard or behind cupboard doorways:

Do not forget the inside of your wardrobe walls or behind the cupboard doors (for those with doors that open outwards). From coat hooks to wire baskets, there are many clever storage and organisation products available to make this space work for you.

7. Lighting

Lighting is an important element of any space, especially in your wardrobe where you should be able to see what an item of clothing is without removing it from your wardrobe.

There are a range of sleek lighting options available now from small downlights to slim LED strips — and even LED rails. 

Design the lighting plan early so it becomes a part of your entire wardrobe design. This means your joiner can make grooves for the lighting to sit flush or run cables behind your cabinets. A well-considered lighting plan is a must!

Tip: have a sensor installed to turn your wardrobe lights on automatically saving you from constantly fumbling for the switch.

Sky lights are another option to flood a walk-in wardrobe with natural light but it is important to note that the sun can damage clothing so we recommend developing a lighting plan instead.

8. Lay it out!

Eigth and final tip to getting your wardrobe layout right is to design it.

This may sound obvious but more often than not, people simply go with what a cabinetmaker or joiner tells them — which is generally the standard stack of drawers with two hanging rails.

We are all different and work in different occupations so it makes sense that the clothes we own and the way we need our wardrobe to work for us is different too.

Consider what clothes you have and how they could best be stored. Take out a pen and paper, measure the space and look for ways you can incorporate the best storage solutions into it.

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Learn More About custom built-in robes Melbourne

Article Source: https://specialistwalkinrobes.s3.amazonaws.com/MelbourneAffordableWardrobes/index.html

[rosendalharvey96]

Choosing a Liquid Softener

Your clothes will thank you for using this item. A suavizante allows the garments to accept more wear and tear without compromising the integrity of the wear. This, in turn, benefits the environment by cutting back on your need to wash clothes more frequently and, thus, reducing the amount of detergents and fabric softeners that are wasted in the process.

Knowing which type of liquid softener to buy can be a daunting task if you are unfamiliar with the terminology and the types of liquid softeners that are available on the market. Fortunately, this task has been made much simpler for you by identifying the following points:

Features

Every liquid softener is not created equal. Some have additional features that make them more appealing than others. For example, some suppliers offer a biodegradable option, which you may want to consider instead of conventional liquid softeners if you are concerned about the sustainability of your clothes.

Sustainability

Just because a product is sustainable does not mean it is the best option for your needs. Many sustainable liquid softeners are produced using water-absorbing polymers that expand when wet to provide the necessary cushioning effects. While this is a noble goal, you may prefer a liquid softener that is derived from natural materials such as coconut or palm oils.

Thickness

Just because a liquid softener is thick does not mean it is better than thinner alternatives. Thicker liquids tend to leave a sticky residue on fabrics, which some people may find objectionable. If you are concerned about the comfort of your clothing, you may want to avoid thicker liquid softeners as they can leave a tacky feel on your clothes. Remember, also, that some liquids expand when wet to provide the necessary cushioning effects, which may cause the clothes to lose their shape if they are too thick.

Purity

All liquid softeners contain some form of synthetic chemical. While many of these chemicals are considered safe, you may want to avoid buying those that are known to be hazardous to the environment. If you are unfamiliar with any of these chemicals, it is usually best to choose a liquid softener that is completely natural and, in most cases, organic as well.

Cost

The cost of a liquid softener is rarely what defines its quality. Some cheaper liquids are produced using less costly materials and, in some cases, less effective ingredients. If you are on a tight budget, it is usually best to choose a liquid softener that is more expensive but, at the same time, offers higher-quality materials and more effective ingredients.

These points will help you decide which liquid softener is best suited for your needs. If you can afford to splurge a little more on a sustainable option or if you want to reduce the amount of chemicals that eventually find their way into the environment, then this may be the one for you.

[laundry-bags]

Essential Facts About mesh laundry bags

Mesh laundry bags are woven or knitted retail bags made of plastic or fabric. They are frequently used to transport fruits and vegetables. Mesh bags and custom labels provide excellent breathability and product visibility. These bags' mesh can be shaped to meet the consumer's needs; mesh types available include hexagonal, diamond, oval, rectangular, and square. Mesh bags made of cotton and other fabrics are considered more sustainable than plastic bags because they can be reused.

 Like any other chore, laundry is much easier when you have the right equipment and the best-smelling laundry detergents. Sure, you can bring an armful of clothes back and forth from the washing machine, but having the best laundry bag for the job can make the job so much easier.

 Market

 The market for washing pouches is expanding, and consumers can choose from various bags. Unfortunately, some issues are still unresolved and have contributed to several problems. The available bags are expensive, end up as waste, and pollute land and water. Furthermore, they are made of non-disposable materials. Improper closure fitting increases the risk of damaging delicate washables. Again, defective pore spaces may allow hooks to enter adjacent bags.

 Best Uses

The weekend break inspires you to clean up the laundry accumulated over the week. And, if you are a housewife, doing laundry may be part of your daily routine. When many clothes are piled up, this activity can be challenging.

 Furthermore, you must deal with several issues while washing your family's clothes. Children's socks and handkerchiefs are frequently misplaced when allowed to wash with other items. Furthermore, the stretched straps and hooks pull the fabric away from other delicate wearables. Not to mention that soaking heavy and light items together degrades the quality of soft clothing. That is why you should purchase mesh laundry bags! Laundry baskets and hampers make a difficult task a little easier. They're also helpful for getting organized and keeping your home clean. Here are some of the best laundry basket uses.

 You already know how to separate and do laundry, so supplement those skills by selecting a laundry bag and hamper that will help you get the job done most efficiently for your specific needs. Find features that take your lifestyle into account. Consider your storage space, the amount of laundry, and the distance you have to carry your laundry. The best hamper and mesh laundry bags are the ones that work best for you.

 If you want to place hampers in different rooms to prevent pilling up clothes, there's nothing wrong with using mesh laundry bags to transport dirty and clean clothes to and from the laundry room. All it takes is a good wipe-down between dirty clothes and clean laundry.

 How do you choose the best laundry bags?

 Before reading hundreds of verified reviews, there are expert recommendations to see which laundry carriers stood out and why. Here are the offers for the best laundry baskets and hampers for various needs, ranging from wheeled laundry baskets to collapsible hampers. Also, use the best dryer sheets and dryer balls when doing laundry. They are the best laundry bags for most people because they are long-lasting, easy to transport, and can hold about two loads of laundry at once. The spacious classic white laundry basket has ventilated sides to keep dampness at bay.

 Purchasing Advice

 People need clarification and help to determine which type of laundry bag to purchase. It has to be the one that will assist them with efficient washing while being simple to use. Some factors to consider when purchasing are: Mesh laundry bags are preferable because they are lighter and easier to use. Bags with strings should be avoided. Choose the one with zippers. Collect a variety of different-sized bags that can be used for various garments. Finally, consider the bag's material and stretchability.

 Mesh laundry bags have become a must-have item. They have simplified work and prevented clothing from being misplaced or damaged. They have also reduced the need for separate hand washing. Washing pouches have various closure options, the most common of which is a mesh zipper. Size, stretchability, and lightness must all be considered when purchasing.

[wastelesscrafts]

Decluttering and sustainability

I've been doing some decluttering at home, and thought I'd give you all a glimpse of what that could look like when you're trying to be more sustainable.

Some things I did:

I cleaned out my closet, and did three things with the items I decided to get rid off (after washing them): I took pictures of a few brand-name garments to sell online, put my worn-out clothes in my sewing stash to reuse in future projects, and donated the rest to a local charity shop.

I took my shoes to a cobbler to get my worn-out heels fixed. It cost me €15, which is a whole lot cheaper than a new pair of orthopaedic shoes. This will probably make them last for at least another year.

I realised my closet is lacking cardigans, something I wear a lot, and bought a good quality second-hand cardigan on Vinted. I specifically looked for one that's a 100% my style so I know I'll still like it for years to come.

I gave away a bunch of jewellery and craft supplies to a neighbour through my local Freecycle network. Even if a lot of it is plastic, I can't undo the fact that they've been made. Keeping them in circulation is much less wasteful than throwing them away. On top of that, my neighbour won't feel the need to buy new things if they can use my old stuff instead.

I darned a pair of socks that had holes in them. This will make them last longer, so I don't have to buy a new pair any time soon.

I traded a few things for a set of preserving jars. I want to learn how to preserve food and avoid food waste. If I can get objects that would otherwise have gone to landfill back in circulation again while I'm at it, I might as well.

I mended my umbrella. The fabric had become loose on one of the spokes so I sewed it back in place, and the Velcro on the strap had worn out so I replaced it with a snap button. I also put some black nail polish on the metal tip because the original black paint was starting to wear out.

I already unsubscribed to as much junk mail as I could, but there's always some left that makes it into my mailbox. Some of the junk I received turned out to be really good quality paper, so I put it aside to be used as pattern paper in the future instead of recycling it.

I reorganised my bookcase and put a few books I don't use any more aside to give to a friend who I know will like them. Gifts don't need to be brand new: they just need to be meaningful.

Conclusion:

Nobody's perfect and neither is life: it's okay if you can't go zero waste or recycle every little thing you own. I know I'll never be able to live a 100% sustainable life if I'm being realistic, but 10% is better than 0%. Perfectionism leads to inaction. Do what you can, and don't beat yourself up over what you can't.

You don't need to do everything I did. Your life is different than mine. This post only serves to give you a few ideas if you don't know where to start.

[postmodernbeing]

Shingeki no Kyojin Headcanons: Survey Corps Veterans (College AU)

Hello, Postmodernbeing here. And it took me a while (seven months wow) to come back. I still have a commission in progress and my College AU without little advances. Anyways, I already made this HCs for the 104th Training Corps (P1 and P2). Hope y'all like this. Much love.

IMPORTANT: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin nor the trend of this outfits-displays, only this HCs belong to me. // Do not repost this. // English is not my first language, so I ask for your patience and understanding.

Erwin Smith

Following his father’s footsteps, Erwin chose History as his Mayor in College and then went for his PhD in the very same discipline. And one can notice clearly that he adopted his dad wardrobe too lol.

The academic look, the Dead Poets Society clothing, the so casually formal garments. That was all Erwin’s. Trousers’ always clean and shirts always ironed.

Since his college days, Levi teased him about the number of ties he owns. Erwin never pays mind to those comments, he’s rather satisfied with his accessories. But the item he likes the most is his analogue watch.

Cardigans are his statement piece though. Mr. Smith here is a loyal believer in hair products too. Levi pays respect to that, and the efforts Erwin puts into his image such as constantly taking care of his skin and keeping his hair flawless.

Levi Ackerman

Black, gray, brown, navy blue and white. Those are the colors Levi keeps in mind when buying clothes.

#Parisien style #Poets fashion, he follows those tags on Pinterest so he gets ideas since he knew nothing about matching and layering. Actually, Levi knew nothing about styling until college, only because he'd really didn't care. Hange was the one that used to tease him about it, and watching Erwin wear some perfectly coordinated fits, well he finally gave to the pressure.

Nonetheless, that was not enough for him to diversify the range of colors in his clothing. Also, most of his fits are monochromatic, as you can see. Levi makes this choice on a regular basis for three reasons: afraid of taking risks, commodity and to save time.

As in cannon universe, Levi would clean with care, fully aware of all the methods for different textures and fabrics.

Hange Zoë

Our friend here avoids any garment that could enhance silhouettes. Hange feels more comfortable in oversized and squared cuts.

Monochromatic outfits are common but quirkier color combinations aren’t a strange thing to see either. Hange doesn’t really care about fashion since commodity and extravagance are priorities when choosing clothing. Even if it seems contradictory.

Many of her garments have permanent stains like wine taints, cigar marks, small patches made with threads slightly different from the color of the piece. Unlike Levi, Hange has trouble taking care of her wardrobe.

Owns a fair number of blazers and dress pants however her style is far from being formal. Her (most-of the-time) carefree personality is well represented in her clothing, one could say.

Moblit Berner

Comodity is Moblit’s priority. He owns plenty of t-shirts and dress shirts made of cotton and plain designs. Absolutely despises when a good piece of cloth is wasted when printed with stencils like “Born to be Wild” or some shit like that.

Speaking of materials of fabrics, Moblit would avoid wearing synthetic, preferring to choose thrifted clothes made of cotton, linen, and hemp. No denim allowed since he has been reading about the humongous waste of water that is used to make a single pair. Moreso, Moblit would choose clear colors and/or clothes with pigments naturally extracted. He’s even interested in making his own attire if the materials were accessible.

Nonetheless, he’s constantly washing clothes since Hange gets them in some random (and sometimes, dangerous) situations that involves them getting dirty, in a literal sense. So, maybe he wastes even more water in clothing than he thinks.

Miche Zacharias

He looks as he’s about to scoot on a road trip at any given moment, really. He would only wear loose – casual – hippie clothes. Mike dresses like a backpacker/hiking/boho kind of guy, actually. And his analogue camara doesn’t help demoting that image either.

One could wonder if he searches for outfits inspiration from time to time, since all his clothing seems to fit him perfectly. Or maybe he just knows his preferences and body type really well.

Also, Mike gave hipster vibes before hipster was even a thing, he says it’s just bohemian style and don’t even his millennials pairs get it. On the other hand, Eren and his friends (Gen Z) would think “bohemian” it’s just a fancy word for a precarious contemporary hippie. Not that Mike cares about one distinction over another.

Nanaba

Big Princess Diana vibes. She looks like a modern royal tbh. Also, Nanaba and all of her clothes smells like vanilla with some woody tone, I just know it.

Monochromatic schemes for her clothes are decided by season and that’s the way she buys them. That helps her keeping track of the pieces she gets and makes sure of actually use them. Then, when she decides it’s time for some changes, Nanaba will donate them.

Now, everything looks good on her, but she despises very slim pants or dresses, and very long high heels ‘cause she “Can’t feel the wind around her when it rises” and her feet, on the other hand, suffer every step she takes. Nonetheless, and even with her noble personality, people recognize her as a strong minded, honest, and independent woman. Somehow, she’s capable of communicating that in her attire.

[tavvattales]

helloooo can i request a fluff lof y/n taking care of their injuries after some long fight? with childe, xiao and diluc 😊 thank youuu

Oh my goodness, yes of course! <3

And if I may be bold to say, you're my first ever ask! Thank you so much for enjoying my work. I hope you enjoy these stories I wrote especially for you! 😊😊

---------------------------------------------------'--

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x gn reader fluff stories~♡♡

Scenario: Cleaning up their wounds

Characters: Childe/Tartaglia, Xiao, Diluc(seperate)

Pairings: Childe/Tartaglia x gn reader, Xiao x gn reader, Diluc x gn reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injuries, minor swearing

SFW----> Lots of fluff down below. Click at your own risk. ;)

Childe/Tartaglia:

● He's a skilled fighter, he wouldn't be a Harbinger if he wasn't, so very rarely would he come to you with a wound. When he does he's always embarrassed, but he'll come to you because you never pass judgment, instead your eyes are filled with worry and love.

● He loves how gentle you are when you tend to him. The way he looks at you when you clean him up and the way you smile at him, telling him how glad you are it wasn't anything serious. He knows how much you love him and it makes him fall even harder for you. Every. Single. Time.

A loud, rapid knock to your door startled you awake. Groggily you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes wondering who it could be at this time of night. As you reach the door, you peer through the peep hole. Surprised, you open the door.

A Fatui agent stood there, bowing to you. Immediately you knew what was wrong before the man could have a chance to speak, "Where is he? How bad is it?" You asked, rushed, already putting your coat on over your sleeping garments.

"He's at the Northlander Bank. He would have come here himself, but this time it's. . .bad. He's lost a bit of blood," The agent spoke grimly. You felt the lump in your throat rise and you tried to swallow.

"Thank you. ." You manage to say to the man before rushing past him, grabbing the medical supplies in the process. You didn't stop running through the brightly lit streets of Liyue until you arrived at the bank.

Panting and gasping for air you pushed past the two Fatui agents who were guarding the doors. They already knew who you were so they didn't even try to stop you, otherwise you would have had their tounge.

You quickly made your way to his room where a few more agents were attending to him as he lay on his bed, clutching his side with blood soaked rags. Your nose was immediately met with the smell of iron, "Childe! Oh my Archons, what the hell happened?!" You rush to his side, pulling out your medical supplies.

You shooed the remaining agents out of the room so you could focus. "I had a run in with a peculiar traveler named Aether. He put up quite a fight. ." His breathing was heavy and staggered, fading in and out of consciousness.

"I need you to keep talking to me, my love," you say to him gently, trying to stay calm, "I'm going to cut off your shirt so I can better assess your wound, okay?" You swiftly take out your surgical scissors and cut away the crimson soaked fabric clinging to his upper torso.

You gasp, the wound was a large slash across the side of his abdomen. You stifle back tears before meekly saying, "You're going to be okay. I promise. You'll need several stitches, but I'm determined to keep you alive."

He lets out a small laugh before wincing in pain, "I'm lucky to have someone as kind and caring as you, Y/N" Childe weakly reaches over to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand for a brief moment before replying, "Take this for the pain, and this to help stop the bleeding. Afterwards I'm going to need to disinfect the wound," You hand him two pills and he swallows them quickly, "It's going to hurt, love, so bare with me. ."

You open up a bottle of alcohol and offer your hand to him, "Squeeze my hand," You say to him as you start pouring the alcohol over his wound. He grits his teeth and lets out a pained groan as he squeezes your hand tightly. You work quickly from there, stitching his wound perfectly.

Once you're finished you clean up all the rags and place a clean damp one over his forehead. He's now asleep, getting the much deserved rest he needed. You place a gentle kiss upon his cheek, not leaving his side.

He'll live to see another day, thank the Archons.

Childe/Tartaglia x gn reader END

----------------------------------------------------

Xiao:

● He also isn't one to get injured so quickly, though when he does you're always quickly by his side no matter how big or small. Even though he's not much for human interaction, he quite enjoys the attention he gets from you.

● He'll always thank you in his own way with odd gifts he made himself. You find it charming. By now you have quite the collection and they're all your most prized possessions.

Today you wanted to travel to Mondstat as you heard there was a festival going on and Xiao offered to accompany you, but only for protection he insisted. He thought human customs were a waste and didn't want to be bothered with them.

The journey to Mondstat would take half a day, and sometimes the roads could be treacherous, so you made sure to pack all of the necessities.

Snacks for the road? Check. Extra water? Check. A med kit? Of course. You triple checked everything and you were about to check it a fourth time when Xiao stopped you and said, "Y/N, you have everything we need. Trust me," He placed a firm, but gentle hand on your shoulder, "Now let's get going before it gets too late. The roads will get dangerous is we wait any longer."

You let out a small sigh and nod, "You're right. Sorry, you know I always gotta make sure everything's in order." You could have sworn you heard him huff and that made you smile. Xiao always had a cold exterior, but you knew a different side to him. He was gentle, kind, always looking out for you. You loved him so much for that. He'd never let anyone but you see this side of him.

Grabbing your sack you sling it over your shoulder and secure it as you both prepare to head out. Xiao was never one for small talk, but you still engaged him in conversation while you two walked. He secretly loved the sound of your voice so he kept you entertained just so he could keep hearing it.

After a few hours of walking both of you had arrived to Stone Gate, you decide it was time for a break. You stretch your arms upwards and arch your back before plopping down on top of a log you had found, patting the spot next to you for Xiao to sit next to you, but he shook his head and continued to stand on guard, "Oh come on, Xiao. We've been walking for hours. It's okay to rest for a bi-"

He quickly raised his hand to stop you from talking and put a finger to his lips before quietly saying, "I sense something evil coming our way," He readied his jade spear before continuing, "I need you to hide someplace safe."

"No way am I going to let you fight on your own!" You retort, getting your sword ready. Determination burned in your eyes as you glanced over to him.

He met your gaze and let out a small sigh, his golden eyes glimmering before giving you a nod, "Fine."

You started hearing rustling from all around you both when it finally clicked that it was an ambush. A charge of at least twenty Hilichurls and three large ones came at the both of you from all sides, "Tck. . Damn. There are more than I expected, " Xiao muttered angrily, knocking back three with his spear in one swift movement, killing them instantly.

You swiftly take out two more, rushing at a third one. You two made a hell of a team. You didn't have a vision, but you were very skilled with the sword and whatever you didn't have, Xiao made up for it creating the perfect synergy between the both of you.

"So much for a peaceful break!" You call out to him as you hacked away a few more, so far you've managed not to get hit. Xiao managed to take out the rest rather quickly.

You rush to his side, noticing a rather long cut across his right cheek, "Xiao, you've been hurt," you said, a frown forming on your lips. He reached up to touch it and he winced slightly.

"I must have been nicked by an arrow, " He muttered, "I'm just glad you're not hurt," He softly took your chin in his hand as he tilted your head gently, side to side.

You blush furiously, avoiding his beautiful gaze, "Let me at least tend to your cut. It's the least I can do" you say, rummaging through your sack taking out the med kit.

Xiao took a seat on the log you were previously sitting on as you kneel in front of him, gently tending his wound. He winces each time you dab it with the disinfectant, but he's grateful to you.

After placing the bandage on his cut, he gingerly takes your hand and places it back on his cheek, nuzzling into it, "Thank you, " He said in a hushed whisper before kissing your hand.

You smile at him and leaned upwards, giving a quick kiss to his bandaged cut, leaving him stunned. "That's to make it heal faster" you say giggling softly at his expression.

He still wasn't used to human customs, but this he could get used to.

Xiao x gn reader END

----------------------------------------------------

Diluc:

● His work as the Dark Knight hero brings him home with several injuries a week, but you're quick to assist him and most of the time he's careful not to sustain anything too horrible. Though you never fail to scold him for being reckless and to take it easy once in a while.

● He always studies your features as you tend to him, falling in love with you all over again. You're so tender with your touch, careful not to cause him any further harm. He always pulls you into a tight embrace afterwards, grateful to be back in your arms after a long night.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you study the mildly battered Diluc. His bright fiery colored hair, falling in locks in front of his face as he plops down in a chair, leaning his head back. He had several small cuts from what you could tell with the amount of tears on his clothing, "You over did it again, didn't you?" You asked, hands on your hips.

"Mm, perhaps I may have, " Diluc replies back, slowly taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, preparing for you to clean out his cuts and scrapes.

You click your tongue in response to his answer, "You worry me so much, you know that, right?" But you're quick to blush as he slides off his shirt, his perfectly sculpted abs catching the dim light of the room, creating perfect shadows across his skin.

He smirks at you, "I'm aware, but I also love seeing how you care for me after a long night, Y/N," Diluc takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips as he gingerly kisses it, glancing up at you with his gentle crimson eyes.

You fidget shyly, meeting his gaze, "O-of course. I'll always support you, but it's okay to give your body a break once in a while too. ." You say, smiling softly wondering what you were gonna do with him.

Diluc lets go of your hand, letting you get to work on cleaning his several small cuts. You're careful not to further hurt him as you dab them clean, applying a bandage to each one, "All finished." You say, proud of your handiwork.

"Thank you, my dear," He says as he gets up, pulling you into a warm embrace. Your heart pounding in your chest. You lift your face up to meet his loving crimson gaze as he leans down to give you a soft, warm kiss upon your lips.

You may not like to see him hurt, but you live for these gentle moments.

Diluc x gn reader END

I hope you enjoy <3

[potatoes-is-are-food]

Fatgum and size difference (for character + thirst) 👀

I love Fatgum I’m so happy you requested this!! It’s my first time writing him so I hope it turned out okay also I’m a self indulgent twat so you’re married in this because I wanna marry fatgum so you’re welcome

~

“Sweets?” Taishiro asked as you swung your leg widely over his hulking body to straddle him, his plush tummy soft and warm under you. You’d been sitting beside him for a while, nestled into his arm and hoping he’d initiate something since he seemed to have some energy. You quickly got fed up with his inability to read your mind and taken things into your own hands.

He hadn’t had any incidents on patrol earlier but had bulked up in anticipation, so now your husband’s almost full fat form was under you, easily big enough to lie down on for a nap which normally would be what you wanted, but something about how you hadn’t seen him this big in a while stirred something in you. You let yourself fall forward, your whole body easily supported by his as you rested your head on his chest.

“Taishi,” you whined, bucking your hips slightly to avoid actually asking for it. You scooted up, wrapping your arms around his neck and planting several kisses to his full cheeks. You nuzzled against him, the soft skin of his cheek full and squishy against yours. His massive hands caressed your hips, fingers you could barely wrap a hand around prodding at your ass and kneading your flesh.

The size difference made it difficult to kiss normally, so you settled for flicking your tongue against Taishiro’s much larger one and kissing all along his lips messily. He didn’t mind, more than content to let you lavish affection on him. You rolled your hips again, stimulating your clit against his stomach, moaning softly from the light pressure through your clothes.

He gave a light tug to the hem of your shirt and you sat up, lifting your arms and letting him pull it up and off before flinging it to the floor. His thumb brushed along your stomach and gently tweaked your bare breasts. To him you were like a doll, tiny and fragile and something he needed to hold and handle with care. He could pick you up and position you however he liked and you’d not only let him but squeal with delight and beg for more.

He pulled you up further along his body so he could press his lips against your chest as he snaked a finger between your legs, humming softly when you started to hump against it. You felt a little bad, knowing you wouldn’t be able to take him in any of your orifices when he was so big but also excited to grind on the absolute behemoth. He always assured you he didn’t mind and he thought it was cute to watch you desperately writhe on a cock at least ten times too big for you until you tired yourself out and he could finish all over your tiny body.

Taking him in his fit form was a challenge that required hours of prep and was about the equivalent to getting fisted by a normal sized person; there was no way you’d ever be able to take his full size. You couldn’t touch your fingers using both hands around it and the sheer volume of cum he produced would probably shoot you off if you could get it in at all. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought as you wiggled out of your shorts, now completely naked on top of him.

“Take yours off, gummy,” you ordered softly, bunching the fabric of his hoodie in your fingers. He smiled, a small laugh sounding in his throat as he moved you to his lap, unzipping and letting the garment join yours on the floor. You climbed back onto his tummy, flattening your body across it and basking in the skin-to-skin contact.

He slid his hand down your back, stroking your whole body and paying a little extra attention to your ass. You spread your legs invitingly, still plastered against him as his fingers ran along your thighs and up between your limbs. You nearly jumped when his skin came in contact with your heat, already slicked up from his stroking.

He hummed, spreading the fluid around your quim gently and letting you grind against his large digit. You rocked your hips slowly, but every time your clit got close to his skin he’d pull away just enough so you couldn’t get any friction on it. You whined, squirming atop him until he shuffled down his shorts and gently moved you down to his lap again.

You wasted no time, straining slightly as you pulled him out of his pants, the weight and girth causing you to use two hands. He wasn’t even fully hard when you sat, rolling your hips and covering him in your slick. His cheeks tinged pink as he watched, a hand on your hips to guide your movements and ensure he could edge you if he wanted.

You thought he was being merciful when he let you finish, head falling back as you cried out. You twitched and went slightly limp, and he held you up and kept you going throughout the orgasm. He wasn’t, though, continuing to push and pull you along his shaft as you writhed, gripping his wrists to make him let up. He didn’t slow at all, completely unhindered by what may as well have been a kitten trying to bat away a tank.

“Tai-” you panted, breath caught in your throat as the forced pleasure had you close to orgasm again. He smiled down at you, enjoying the view of your slick cunt grating back and forth and lubricating his dick. Your juices dripped down the sides of it and onto his thick thighs, making you more unstable until you were holding onto him for stability.

“One more for me, sweets,” he said, not bothering to hide his smug amusement at the groan you gave him. You nodded, expecting him to just keep forcing your hips along his length, but instead he pulled you to your hands and knees facing away from him. His huge index finger pressed against you, gathering your juices in preparation to penetrate you. You moaned when he sank the appendage into your wet cavern, the stretch stinging slightly.

You stroked what you could reach of his cock, tonguing at his slit when he pulled the heavy thing up to you. You massaged and caressed it, occasionally dipping a hand down to knead at his full balls. He groaned, twitching slightly as your tongue dipped inside, continuing to pump into your cunt with his huge finger. You flattened yourself slightly, letting your clit grind on his stomach again as his thrusts forced you back and forth.

You came around the digit, walls clamping and soaking him as you cried out. He pulled it out, reveling in the whimper you gave in response, and pulled you apart with his thumbs, watching your cunt twitch. He pulled you back onto his expansive tongue, greedily lapping up your fluids with a groan. You weren’t sure if it drew another one from you or just prolonged the last, but you bucked against his face with another strangled sob of his name until he finally released you.

“You’re so sweet,” he cooed.

You panted, limp against him while he stroked himself to the sight, coaxing you up as he got close. You excitedly pressed against his head, lining it up as though it had any chance of fitting.  He leaned up and kissed you, allowing you to suck your taste off his tongue as he came, liters of cum spurting into your throbbing hole and all over your pussy. The thick, hot liquid coated most of your lower body starting just under your ribcage and dripping down your legs.

You quickly brought your lips to his tip just as he gave one last spurt, suckling it out of him and swallowing as much as you could. Most of it coated your face, dripping down your chin as you flopped back over onto your spent husband. He stroked you gently, and you kissed up his body until you rested your head on his shoulder. His tongue flicked along your cheek, tasting himself and your sweat.

“Hm, that’s not bad, actually,” he said. You giggled, wiping your face on your arm.

“You’re sweet too, Tai,” you kissed his cheek and snuggled into him as he stood, carrying you to a much needed shower.

[cherrysha]

Run

Remember when i posted abt lumberjack a/b/o Uvo? well here it is!! shoutout again to ram fr helping me with this piece!! This is my first attempt at a longer story with more plot. Part of me wanted to break it up into more chapters but I like the build up thats there by keeping it in one piece. Its my take on abo (I know some people love it and some absolutely hate it but the lewding potential was too much for me to pass up) Very loosely based off of this song by hozier

Summary: Alphas are rare, Omegas even moreso. The standard for society is being a Beta, but unfortunately you weren’t born as one. Being an Omega is a presentation so detestable that it’s hard to even survive. In an era where it’s completely normal to cast you from the village for simply existing, to keep you blind from what it is to truly be an Omega, will there be any respite for you? (Yes, this is a period piece)

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: A/B/O, dubcon (since the readers in heat), predator/prey, a little blood, one slap, breeding, overstimulation, unprotected sex

“Do you ever get the feeling that they are lying to you?” you stare at the weathered wooden boards of the porch before you dare to glance at her face. The miller’s daughter was an omega as well, and often you found yourself gravitating to her if only out of comfort. The one of few in the village that could relate to you. She looked so soft in the morning sun, so lighthearted and gentle as she picked at the frayed patchwork of her dress.

“I don’t like to think about it too much or else I scare myself, y/n” she giggles. 

So Naïve.

You mull it over before coming to the conclusion that you and her are not the same. “I guess I understand” 

Her father always says she’s too kind, but that’s exactly what was so endearing. A world where it was normal to treat people like you and her as lesser, and she was still so kind. Absently, you wondered if you'd ever see her again after her next heat. It had been too long since an omega went missing.

“Will you still be walking with me to the market?”

“Ah, mother seems to have found some extra fabric that had been tucked away somewhere, so I suppose not. However, I’m glad you came to visit y/n!” she giggles as you stick your tongue out at her like a child. 

The walk there gives you an opportunity to think of her words. Was denial better than the fear that came along with the truth?

Plenty of omegas had gone missing. When you were younger, the elders would tell you that there was a man who lived on the edge of the forest. He wasn't an alpha, or a beta, or even an omega. He was only a monster. 

The path stretches before you and the heat of the summer sun is almost enough to make you turn around. But you persist, the idea of returning home empty handed was enough to make you ignore the sting on the back of your neck. 

This man, this beast, would eat omegas. That’s why it was important to return home before dark, the man in the forest used the cover of night to hunt; to take. that’s why omegas always went missing in the village. 

You momentarily take refuge in the cool water in the creek on the outskirts of the village, watching idly as water swirled around your bare feet.

When were you old enough to realize the flaws of that story? Was it your first heat? When with shaky hands, your mother had packed you enough provisions for the week and whispered for you to leave? Or was it the anger in your father’s voice when you asked to stay and he bitterly told you that omegas only brought misfortune?

You sigh. No, it was the day you'd found out one of the few remaining omegas hadn’t come back and that truth had only been a hard pill to swallow for you. No one seemed to care, it was as if the man in the forest didn’t scare them, had never scared them.

Not much sooner had you made the connection. Alphas were few and far between, but omegas were even more scarce. The ones who couldn’t find omegas settled down with betas, but what would a married alpha do when an unclaimed omega went into heat? Only the forest knew.

Sometimes you wished the beast was real, and still the lie had persisted. The younger omegas believed it to be the wood smith and while he was a recluse, so much so that you'd never even seen him, he was far too young to be the monster from your youth. He’d only made his appearance in the village every so often, and in truth he hadn’t lived in the area for that long. You let them hold on to their delusion instead, not wanting to be the one to burst their bubble.

Your heat was many moons away, but the fear of living still persisted.

The water feels nice on your neck, gentle and cooling as you scoop handfuls of it over your burning skin. It makes you forget about everything for a second, soothing over you like an expensive balm. Somehow, It reminds you of when you were little, before you presented and the friends you'd made in the village. Small and unassuming, no worries about presentation or etiquette. Just young and carefree. The thought brings a smile to your face.

Now, boys your age would rather die than be seen with an Omega, not that you cared about their indifference. In their minds it was completely warranted, and in yours the Betas had nothing to offer you. You both saw each other as fundamentally useless. No one gave mind to insects, most of the time they were just there. Some were cruel, yes, but most went their way, and you went yours. That was the best you could ask for.

Sighing, you pick the coin purse out of your pocket, taking a moment to count the few coins your mother had given you. 

It was barely enough to buy thread, but you weren’t surprised. Her and father were still angry that you'd ripped another hole in your dress again since it was one of the little clothing items they had granted you. If it weren’t for the fact that the hole steadily became bigger, threatening the integrity of the entire garment, you don’t think it would’ve been mended at all.

The wind swirls around you, reminding you of your task and the repercussions of wasting time. 

With a grunt, you force yourself back up and onto the road, sidestepping a rather large man carrying probably one of the largest baskets of wood you'd ever seen.

Mother says that its impolite to stare, so you don’t let your gaze linger for too long, but the sight was unusual to say the least. He’s tall, so tall in fact that you have to peer up to even try to see his face, eventually you give up and your gaze ends at the well toned muscles of his chest that are thinly veiled underneath a rather dingy tunic. You couldn’t judge him, right now you were wearing the same dress that desperately needed patching up. Still, he was somewhat of an unbelievable height, it was hard not to wonder of his presentation. Surely, there couldn’t be Betas that tall, but it was even more so unbelievable for him to be an Alpha. The Alphas in your town were well known, their large presence in the village applauded by most and avoided by Omegas. Like the tavern owner with wandering hands under the guise of drunkenness and the butcher who stared a little too long that one might find it indecent. 

 as you make your way through the village opening you can feel his presence pressing closer behind you with each step. It’d be easier to know for certain if the wind carried his scent, but at the present moment it was blowing yours in his direction, a thought that was a little unnerving to you. Nevertheless, you persisted, pushing past the mounting feeling in your chest that seemed to get worse the louder his footsteps became behind you. Surely, he was just selling the basket on his back at the market. And since he was a stranger to you, It would make sense for him to follow you so closely there if he wasn't from the village.

You let yourself relax, tense shoulders easing up as you finally come to the only conclusion that made sense. You were an Omega; A Beta had no better reason to follow you other than directions.

The sun still beats overhead, making the exposed skin of your face damp with sweat. With little thought, you wipe it away with the handkerchief stashed inside your pocket. It was little more than torn fabric that mother had no use for, but you appreciated when she had given it to you nonetheless. 

The market wasn't busy for this time of day, which you were grateful for. Less people to cast you a distasteful glare as you silently perused through the stalls in search for thread. It only takes a few moments to find it at a stand with colorful fabrics, pins and needles and textiles that were definitely worth more than anything you'd ever own.

The smile on your face lights up as you find the cheapest option available, speaking quietly to the stall owner you ask for it.

You're met with silence, its only when you look at them that you realize they aren’t even looking at you. Instead, you follow their gaze behind you, to the burly man who had somehow gotten close enough to block out your view of the sun. 

“Gorgeous too, huh?” he smiles down at your shocked face, even daring to lean down, hand gripping your jaw to force your head up, leaving your neck exposed to him. He’s not quick about it either, his nose coming to scent you as he indulges himself in the smell he finds there. 

“And where have you been hiding?” he whispers it, a secret between the both of you that your too scared to acknowledge. In stark contrast, you've been rooted to the spot, too scared to do much of anything as the complete stranger ungracefully takes his time mulling you over. 

It’s a funny thing, he can smell just how frightened you are, but it doesn’t mask the scent that made him follow you in the first place. 

The scene is far too intimate for such a public space, and subconsciously, you're aware of that. You know this isn’t right, you shouldn’t be letting yourself get so carried away by the stranger, even if he does smell wonderful. Nothing like any Alpha you’ve met. Although his presence is completely overwhelming, his scent isn’t, and he lets out a breathless laugh when you subtly try to scent him back. 

The only thing that snaps you back to reality is the stall owner clearing their throat, forcing you to realize how blatantly improper you were being. It’s far too embarrassing to handle, and mortification sets into your bones. The man pays them no mind, instead using one of his large hands to slam a few bills onto the counter.

“Whatever she wants” his voice comes out as a low and guttural thing, hoarse from days of disuse, as his breath fans across your face. He thinks it’s cute, the way your eyebrows shoot up makes his grin even wider. 

With shaky hands you point to the cheapest bobbin of thread, hands fumbling for your coin purse before he grabs your wrist. “What did I say, Omega?” its stern, but all you can manage to do is bumble over your words, eyes cast downwards as you try to ignore the embarrassment settling on your face. He was just trying to be nice, maybe he was a tad bit uncivilized about it, but his impropriety shouldn’t make it okay to decline such a kind offer. The thread is taken from the counter, his hand slowly ruffling the folds of your dress as he finds your pocket and drops it in.

At this point you’ve become a spectacle, passersby muttering not so subtly about just how close you are to him, how rude it was to make a scene like that in public. With a cough you back away, surprised to find that he doesn’t follow, only aims a grin at you as he continues to stare. Not wanting to leave on a sour note, you ask

“What’s your name?”

  Maybe one day you could repay the favor, although he didn’t look like the type to need to buy thread. He didn’t look like the type to care that much about his appearance at all, if you were being honest.

“its Uvogin. Gimme what’s in your pocket.”

“The thread?” with a wolfish smile he shakes his head no. It takes you a moment but clumsily you pad at the dress before finally finding your pocket and dipping your hand in to pull out the tiny wad of fabric in question. The only other thing in your pocket besides your coin purse. Your handkerchief. You don’t think about it as you hand it over to Uvogin, your head feels fuzzy just by his proximity. Don’t even think about how closely he must’ve been watching you to see that you had one, or how long he’d been doing so as he walked behind you and into the market. Right now, he could ask for a lot of things and you'd gladly hand it all to him with no second thoughts about it.

“You should head home. Maybe get some rest before it happens” he leans closer to sniff at your throat one last time, albeit a lot quicker than he had in the past “Although, I don’t think you’ll have much time.” The end of his sentence comes out in as a laugh, jovial enough to make you forget how sinister his final words were. With little grace, you slowly backpedal, eyes still on his before you turn around and walk out the way you came.

You smell. You reek of him. It’s the only thought in your mind as you clutch at yourself tightly, eyes cast downwards to avoid the shame of looking at others. There wasn't a pair of eyes that didn’t linger on you, most likely smelling exactly what you smelled; The stench of an Alpha. So thick and cloying that you couldn’t pretend it was anything other. Maybe you could rinse it off in the creek before you got home, but you doubted it. The smell permeated through your dress and settled into your bones. Quickly, you head out of the village and towards the sound of running water. 

He was handsome, his scent so alluring that it made your mind wander as you tried desperately to rinse it off of your skin. A hint of sweat, pine and something sweet you had no name for. Sitting on your haunches, you let out a whine at the fact that nothing you did could rinse it off, and part of you didn’t want to, anyway. He’d ruined your dress by doing little more than touching it. If your parents smelled it, who knows what they would do. Probably cast you out like they’d planned on doing when you tore your dress. Any little infraction was worth your disappearance. This would give them every reason not to want you around. 

It seemed to be getting hotter. So hot in fact you were half tempted to wade into the creek, dress and all, just to get the feeling to go away. The sun had been hidden by an overcast sky, clouds threating to burst at any moment, and you prayed they would. It could drown out any scent lingering on your skin, your clothes, the far recesses of your mind that held onto it like a bloodhound. Why was it so hot?

Wordlessly, you waded into the water, thinking little of the repercussions of coming home with a sopping wet dress as you sat down, letting the stream flow over you and around your shoulders. It felt soothing at first, like a cool bath when you were sick, but all too soon the water felt just as warm as you were. It. Was enough to elicit another strangled whine from your throat.

Slowly you stood, the weight of the fabric hugging tighter against your skin all too noticeable. This wasn't right. The sun was gone, the water cool, so why did you feel so sick all of a sudden?

It took a minute to fully accept it, as part of you didn’t want to. But you couldn’t excuse the need growing in your abdomen as anything else.

You had to leave here, quick. Get as far away from the village as possible. Away from the Omegas and your family, away from everything in order to have a chance at saving yourself.

Wading out of the water, you give no pause to the way your skirts cast dark droplets onto the dry ground. 

 With little to no hesitation, you make your way back onto the road before veering right, into the underbrush as you picked up the pace. Before, you'd have a day’s head start to get as far away as possible, but this was different. The telltale signs of your heat stirring low in the pit of your belly was a fortnight too early. Your thoughts were already starting to fog around the edges, an in a few hours all you'd be able to do was cry out from the sheer pain of it all.

 With every step you find yourself walking faster, legs getting whipped by the low lying brambles. The way they so easily tear into your skin going almost unnoticed by you in your sheer panic. It wasn't supposed to be this way, it’s a type of confusion that adds on to the delirium already buffing away at your subconscious. 

After a few minutes of running, only your panicked gasps keeping you company, the clouds burst above you. Fat drops soaking the underbrush and you along with it. In no time the ground beneath your feet becomes even more treacherous, mud and leaves and errant roots making you stumble and fall at every opportunity. After one nasty fall, you can't help but sit for a moment, a manic chuckle ripping through your chest as you examine your skinned palms. Your dress is filthy, the tear even larger than it had been when you set out this morning. Absently you wonder if mother will let you try to mend it before she casts you out for it. Without looking down at your legs, you already know the bruises that will be there from every bump and fall you’ve taken on your little journey. It does little to worry you, once the adrenaline wore off, maybe then you'd feel yourself start to care again.

With a sigh you let yourself rest. Hypervigilance slipping as you gaze up at the canopy in awe. How could rain be so loud? 

Mentally, you try to assess your location. There was a place not far from here that served as your hideaway in times like these. A fissure in the face of a sheer cliff, only big enough for you and any other Omega that had the misfortune of being cast out into the woods. It wasn't much, the crack was uncovered, the rain and wet still able to reach you, but that wasn’t what was important. 

Standing up gives you a better view of your surroundings. With little thought you start to head in the direction you remembered, down the slope of the hill in hopes of finding your salvation at the bottom. 

It doesn’t take long before you hear it. Crackling branches under heavy, heavy footsteps. It’s not a promising sign, to say the very least. Feverishly you pick up the pace, mind racing as you try to figure out who would’ve followed you. It’s not like you did much to hide where you were going, in truth you didn’t think about it at all. Mind glazing over, you don’t notice the thick tree root that’s in your way, stumbling over it as your palms meet the forest floor once again. Ungracefully, your body tumbles easily down the rest of the slope, a cry leaving you as you hit the ground repeatedly. 

Uvo’s laugh is audible over the thunderous sound of rain. Its jarring. A wretched reminder that you're actively being hunted down like an animal.

“Sounds like I’m getting close, huh?” he yells, still too far away for you to see him under the darkened canopy. His voice echoes and you can't tell where exactly he is behind you, only knowing that its entirely too close for comfort. Hazily, your mind makes the connection, his voice rattling back in your ears over and over again as you pick yourself up. 

You can’t say that you've gotten any faster after realizing who exactly was chasing you. The ache in your body from multiple falls was finally catching up to you, along with the heat that was settling low in the pit of your stomach that seemed to be burning even brighter than a few minutes ago.

After a few minutes of running, you see it and almost sob with relief. Thick with vines, the opening of the rockface, your salvation, is almost within distance. 

“I hope you're not thinkin’ of doing what I think you're gunna do.” Its not a yell. Not anything other than an irritated statement thrown so casually and so, so close to you that it causes goosebumps to rise on the back of your neck.  Quickly, you look behind you, a slight yip leaving your throat as you take in the distance between the both of you.

In a last ditch effort, your body works on autopilot. Fear drives you, pushes you faster and faster until the only thing you can hear is the thrumming of your own heart in your ears. He’s loud behind you, yelling something unintelligible as you try to make your escape. You're within reaching distance of the opening now, but his hands grab at you. The slickness of the rain serves in your favor. Easily you slip from his grasp, body lurching forward and into the opening as he tears at the shoulder of your dress.

The air surrounding him seems to vibrate with raw anger, something akin to a roar tearing through him at just how close he’d come to having you.

Big hands come to slam against either side of the opening as he peers down at your shrunken form. Chest heaving, the rain glints off of his skin and the image alone is enough to make you whimper in submission. He’s so tall, broader than any Alpha you'd seen, and he’s incredibly angry. Uvo’s gaze doesn’t leave you as the seconds tick by.  After a few moments of him trying, and failing, to collect himself he finally speaks

“I’m not gunna hurt ya, now come here” he says, and it sounds sincere enough that your fuzzy brain almost believes him. Almost gives in to the temptation of his scent, his open arms goading you to leave the small space.

“I don’t believe you” you whine, shaking your head ‘no’ as if he wouldn’t understand the meaning of your words.

It’s so unbelievably hot. The fat drops of rain hitting your face and soaking you through to your very core did little to relieve the feeling. if anything, it overwhelmed your heightened senses, every little drop on your skin felt like something you needed to pay close attention to.

“Just wanna make you feel better” the statement alone forces a whimper out of your throat, body edging backwards as if to physically deny him

“You can't make me feel better, no one in this damn town can make me feel better.” it’s a lot more hysterical than you meant it, but Uvo’s face contorts in confusion all the same.

It’s quiet for a moment as he assesses you. Big green eyes rake over your shivering form, more anger than pity bubbling to the surface of his features as he realizes how much he doesn’t like what he sees.

“You don’t know anything, huh?” he mumbles to himself, letting one of his large hands swipe away the excess water on his face before settling on his hip “What’s it gunna take for you to come out then?”

You want to tell him to leave, to let you be alone but another part of you wants something. Something you can't explain enough to even know yourself.

“Just don’t hurt me, okay?” no matter how much you try to calm yourself down it still comes out too whiny and nasally for your liking.

Uvo laughs at that, boisterous and loud and it almost seems to overpower the sound of heavy rain hitting the tree branches around you.

“I just told you I wouldn’t, you forget that already?” you have half a mind to nod in affirmation, “Come on out then” he gestures towards you, wolfish smile marring his face.

As if to try and soothe you, he asks for your name. The question eats away at the open air before you finally find your voice enough to answer him.

In the quiet that precedes your answer you realize numbly that It’s getting darker out. You have no provisions and now you’re drenched. If you didn’t listen and stayed put, the rest of your heat would be torture. There’s a lot to consider, truthfully too much to consider in your current state. The ramifications of your actions, the honesty of the large man in front of you, the means in which he planned to help, how long you could actually survive out here without him. Your brain functions moved with the viscosity of syrup. The more you thought about it all, the less it seemed to make sense.

Quietly, you make your way to the opening, Uvo lets out an excited laugh as you crawl ever closer to him. It doesn’t take more than a few steps before a gasp is being torn from you as he grabs you by the arm, pulling you completely out and into his embrace. It feels nice, albeit a little jarring, but you won’t deny the full feeling in your chest at his proximity. A big and sturdy hand rakes up your side as the other holds you to his chest.

With little thought, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, relishing in the scent that hasn’t been completely washed away by the rain. Its calming, maybe he’s pumping out pheromones to induce that emotion within you, but at the same time it makes the coil in the pit of your stomach reach incredibly high temperatures. It hurts, oh god, it hurts

“Hurts, huh? I can fix that.” You don’t remember saying it aloud, but the burly man responds quickly by tearing the flimsy fabric of your dress, making sure to rip through your underwear as well. When you whine at the sensation all he does is mutter “Didn’t expect me to let you keep that ratty thing did you?”

It’s a makeshift blanket once he tosses it onto the ground, saving your back from most of the drenched forest floor as Uvo sets you down, his own body hovering over yours. His warmth is so nice, nothing like what’s eating you up inside, and with needy hands you run your fingers through his hair, a high pitched whine leaving your throat at the groan you coax from him.

“Fuck” he growls “M’gunna knot you so good. Bet it’ll only take one time before I get you nice and round”

You nod up at him, delirious and wanting. The only thing on your mind being the feel of him under your fingers.

With little finesse, Uvo thumbs at the opening of your sex before sliding over the bundle of nerves that lies just above it. He smiles at the confusion on your face before slowly, slowly sinking one of his large fingers inside of your heat. Your body writhes with broken sobs at the feeling. Its unlike anything you ever experienced before. 

“All this for me, huh? Must really want it.” It comes out in a huff, his smile ever growing as you nod in affirmation. You can hear the slickness he’s referring to as his finger pumps in and out of you. 

Right now the wind was bustling, rain beating down harder than it had been all night, but all that you could feel was the comfort Uvo gave you. As if his wandering hands were stroking your very soul.

Unbeknownst to you, Uvo’s already dipped another digit inside of you, marveling at the way your body so easily opens up to his touch.  It’ll only take him a few more minutes of his fingers dutifully scissoring you open before he’s able to lay his claim. 

“Doesn’t hurt, does it?” he smiles as you shake your head, mouth open and panting as your lovestruck gaze meets his “Of course it doesn’t.”

He takes his time, languid strokes and teasing bites against your chest. No rush in his movements until you brokenly sob for him. The feeling in your gut was only getting worse with every movement. With weak hands you claw at him, trying desperately to pull his body closer.

His hand moves from your cunt, popping his digits in his mouth with a groan. When he finally sucks them clean, his hands go to his belt, “Impatient little thing” whispered from his lips.

The sight alone makes your mouth water. Too long and jarringly thick, his cock slaps up against his stomach. 

“Gunna make you feel a loot better” he mumbles, taking himself in hand. God, you want it, want every bit of him no matter the repercussions. He kneels above you, chest wet and heaving with excitement as his gaze lingers on your exposed pussy. A Grecian God chiseled from marble and sent here just for you. 

With steady hands he presses you your legs up, folding you in half until hes achieved the angle he’s looking for. You have no choice but to comply, whimpering as he guides himself into your aching cunt.

The stretch of it burns, it makes your body quake almost as if the size of his cock alone has rendered you weak. It’s an overwhelming sensation that eats away any rational thought until you can only focus on the piercing sharpness of it.

“Stop, please, s’too much.” You can't recognize the sound of your own voice. Its hoarse as if you'd been yelling for hours. Uvogin buries his nose in your neck again, hands coming up to press your legs to even further against your chest.

“Here… got somethin’ to take your mind off it” 

With little warning his teeth are in your neck, tearing a wretched scream from your throat as Uvo draws blood. True to his word, he sinks the entirety of his length within you without your notice. Only thing on your mind is the feeling of your flesh being torn open by him, claimed by him. 

There’s’ little compassion in the way his hips snap against yours. Its brutal, making you cry out even more as the force of it jostles the teeth still buried snugly in your neck. Your hands claw at the ground before eventually settling on his back. Uvo groans at your nails digging into him, spurring him on to go faster, harder, to give you everything he’s got until you drain him dry.

The noise of Uvo thrusting into your warm cunt is loud, almost deafening compared to the rain around you. It’s all you can hear; All you can feel as he doesn’t waste any time in finding the exact spot within you that makes you scream.

Every shift of his hips is maddening. Every sharp thrust enough to push the air out of your lungs. Eventually Uvo’s mouth pulls away from your throat, lapping at the bloodied mess he’d left there. You can't focus on it too much. Can't focus on much of anything at the present moment, only the slick sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you filling your mind. 

“Gunna need you to do somethin’ for me, doll” his words are almost too far away for you to hear. As if he’s underwater, it takes a light slap to your face in order for you to process them.

“Huh?” you ask dumbly. You can't remember if your voice always sounded that small. That meek. 

“M’not gunna last long with the way you’re suckin’ me in like this” he growls “Gunna need you to bite down.” One of his hands that was previously holding your thigh up reaches for the nape of your neck, pulling you up until your face is flush against the side of his throat. Something is growing inside of you, burning through your very being and he’s the cause of it. It’s mind numbing, this pleasure you’ve never felt before. Lazily you recognize it enough to know that your own orgasm is mere seconds away.

“Right here.” you nod, heat searing through you as his hips stutter. There’s something catching against your cunt now, impeding every kiss of his hips against yours as he struggles to fit the rest of his cock inside.

With an audible groan being your only warning, Uvo cums inside of you. It sears against your insides as something finally stops his movements, his body unable to do anything besides grind against your own. So full, you jerk with the feeling, finally letting the coil inside you snap. The scream that leaves your broken throat is cut off by Uvo shoving your face harder against his neck and, dutifully, you bite down. Its mere instinct driving you, or maybe the need to drown out your warbled cries for him. Either way, the wound makes him laugh, his hand pushing harder against you as if to force your teeth further into his skin. The tang of metal in your mouth does little to stop the ebb and flow of your orgasm as it washes through you. It’s too good, so good in fact you find yourself pulling away only to be met with Uvo’s unshakeable grip. Tears prick at your eyes at the sensitivity of it all, the overwhelming buzz that courses through you with no end in sight.

It takes a minute of blindly thrashing against him before you give up and settle on the wet ground below.

It’s completely pitch dark now and the rain has quieted into a slight drizzle. You can't see him, can only feel as the hand not gripping your neck finally lets your other thigh down to ghost over the plains of your face. 

“You're mine now” he whispers. Silently, you nod your head in agreement, not fully understanding the meaning of his words. It didn’t matter. Nothing truly mattered anymore besides the man above you. Uvo presses a lingering kiss to your neck, your jaw, before landing on your spit slicked lips. It’s almost soothing, the gentle touches his attentive hands leave on your body. Soothing enough to make you forget how you got here. 

With a gentle tug, he finally pulls out of your sex. The laugh that leaves his throat as his fingers explore the wetness that paints your lower body is euphoric. Soon enough he’s pulling you into his arms and standing up.

“Feel better?” it sounds like more of a statement coming from his mouth, but you nod all the same. As he starts to walk your eyelids droop in exhaustion, mind focused on the way his chest vibrates with every garbled sentence you can't quite hear.

[wevegottogetaway]

The one where it turns sweeter (part2)

TW: smut

So... this is my first time writing smut. I just hope that I did the piece justice and that you’ll like it. Tell me if that’s something you’d want more or also if you have any feedback/criticism/idea/request, I would love to hear your lovely thoughts. Please don’t be shy xx

Part 1

"Just shut up and come kiss your dork." 

Y/n certainly doesn’t need more incentive to comply; the sweet taste of his lips seeping through hers is plenty enough as it is. Her mind is a nerve-ending away from losing any semblance of a grasp on reality. This feels too much like a dream: fuzzy mind, sensitive skin and a desperate plea not to be awakened yet.

Except, all her senses are on overdrive, buzzing with more fervency with every new inch of her that Harry explores. And no matter how dreamlike it all seem, the thrills are much too intense to be sleep-induced and the details much too accurate to be conjured up by a deceiving mind. The way chills spiral up her spine as they follow the roaming of his hands underneath her shirt; the way her skin erupts in tiny goose bumps where his lips leave wet spots after careful ministrations. Starting at the corner of her month, as if reluctant to retire from their twin set, all across her left cheek to finally tease the area right below her ear and mischievously graze his teeth around the earlobe. 

Definitely real. 

"Fuck. I’ve been wai’in." He almost whimpers the extent of his relief, the rasp of his voice triggering a new wave of shivers across y/n’s straddling body. "Been waiting so long, love." 

"No more waiting now." She quickly answers with a pointed shake of her head.

Her hands also have a mind of their own, not wasting a second more to finally tread the land that had been forbidden to her until tonight. Now his neck was hers to scratch and his wondrous locks hers to grasp and to pull in taunting fashion. Now the grunts coming out of his mouth still tending to her ear, were hers to revel in and to swallow in a searing kiss. Now she was his to hold, to touch and to undo like the final tug to a bow on a wrapped present. Now the pleasure was theirs to share. 

"Off, take it off" Y/n breathlessly inquires after pausing their kiss long enough to voice her request. Her fingers have already made their way to the bottom of Harry’s jumper, slipping underneath the heavy material only to be met by more fabric. She pouts as she realizes there was more work than expected, but as soon as the first layer has been discarded and she takes in his disheveled hair and flushed cheeks, the disappointment melts right off her lips. Her hands cups at his face as she bits a growing smile and her eyes dive into the green gems already focused on her. "Flustered, are we?" She teases before rearranging his hair back in one brushing gesture and sealing their lips back together.

"Mhm, got me all hot an’ bothered, darlin’" he quips back as he rids her of her top, successfully leaving her in a simple black laced bra. Damn, she didn’t have the same multi-layer luxury he had apparently. The special endearment is also not lost on her, its appearance quite new between them, but in retrospect it can just be added to the list of ‘new’ things their relationship now entails. 

Harry takes in the sight of her exposed cleavage, one hand swiping the strings of hair still resting upon her right collarbone, before finally dropping kisses down her neck and across the top of her breasts. One soft grip at her waist, his other hand crawls back to press against the area between her shoulder blades in a desperate attempt to get her that bit closer than she ever was.

"You’ve got one more." Y/n reminds him, her head slightly tilted upward as to avoid a mouthful of Harry’s mane. At her words, he slowly leans back to take in her own flustered state.

"This not enough fo’ you?" He asks knowing full well she was just as antsy for skin-to-skin contact as he was.

"Not even close" she proudly responds while taking the matter into her own hands. In a swift and not too clumsy motion, she’s got his undershirt in a bowl that she hastily throws behind them.

"Better?" He smirks at her. 

"Halfway there" is all she retorts and goes back for a much needed kiss, hands finally embracing the smooth expanse of his bare back. She can feel his own smile spreading so wide he can barely follow the kiss’ dynamic. "What?" She finally asks him in suspicious banter, keeping her face an inch away from him, a finger swiping across the corner of his bottom lip.

"Nothin’" He murmurs along her jaw, before elaborating. "Just…livin’ on a prayer."

Y/n can’t help but laugh at the Bon Jovi reference, the moment is so Harry-like. A few words were always enough to make random songs pop into his head, and then the temptation is too hard for him to pass up the opportunity to make a pun about it. That’s just how he’s brain works and y/n has always loved this quirk of his. He is a music enthusiast after all, and the passion he’s derived from is what made him such a force to be reckoned with, so really, y/n doesn’t mind.

"Care to clue me in on that prayer of yours?" She says instead, before she suggestively takes a bite of his lip. The statement earns her a chuckle as Harry goes back to flowering her neck his tender pecks. 

"Don’t worry darlin’, you’ll be singing them in no time." He chirps back seductively, bringing his hands to grasp at y/n thighs still straddling his lap. Then in one swoop, he lifts her and lowers her back until she’s laying on the ground. Quickly his tattooed torso follows suit as he comes resting above her figure and reunites their lips in an unprecedentedly passionate kiss. 

This time around, y/n’s hand concentrate on the inked work adorning his front, fingers tracing each of the artist’s lines. It mesmerizes her how the art seems to be such an intrinsic element of his skin now. Like all the graphics and doodles had been embedding the tissue since birth. Swallows flying across is chest as he learnt how to walk; laurels flourishing along his pelvis as he became less boy and more man; butterfly metamorphosing some every day he grew closer into the amazing being he is now. 

So y/n may have lost it a little, but in her defense, Harry has always been her weakness and now he’s kissing his way down her chest and playfully nipping at her belly button…so she’s officially relinquished any sovereignty she may have once possessed over her body. Harry softly pecks the palm of her hand when she brings it to his cheek, her gaze already clouded in euphoria. After sharing a knowing look like two accomplices on the brink of mischief, he mutters a soft "can I?" as his fingers tease at the waistband of her jeans. 

A hazy ‘please’ is all he needs to work her zipper down and button off, all the whilst sporting a smug corner smile. The task gets a bit more tedious when it comes to peeling the fabric from her legs but it’s not Harry’s first skintight jeans’ rodeo. Plus, the sight he is privy to once they’ve joined his long forgotten undershirt and jumper somewhere behind the couch, is quite unparalleled in comparison. Smooth legs that take his head for a spin with how elegant yet how strong they look; cotton panties, still matching in color, covering wonders he has yet to experienced; so much flesh and skin ready for the taking and calling out for his touch. 

A soft groan escapes him as he lowers himself back to place a wantsome kiss on her timid smile. "Fuck, look a’ you, love." More kisses. "So pretty…so delicious." He utters against her throat, nose tenderly rubbing against the skin. 

His lips retell the same stories as they travel down y/n’s body once again, this time making a longer halt as they gloss over her breast, blindingly enclosing themselves around y/n’s nipple though the garment’s lace. She swears she can feel him smiling against her boob as the small bud hardens from pleasure, and when he adds in a quick graze of his teeth once he’s satisfied with his work, y/n’s hand flies out to the one making its way up to her other nipple. 

The gesture isn’t meant as a restraint so much as an encouragement which Harry happily embraces. His thumb starts circling the areola in a slow and teasing manner, every now and then applying increasing pressure in its center. Y/n’s hand is still wrapped around his wrist, as if afraid he would suddenly stop, while the other slides down his back to squeeze at his bum. 

"Touch me" she breathes out.

"I am."

"Touch me more." Her insisting words have him lift his head from her skin to process her demand: at this point, his mind might be fuzzier than hers. 

"My girl wants somethin’ more? Just have to ask, darlin, I’ll give it straight t’you." 

His hand starts moving underneath hers, and once she’s pleased with the path it’s taking, she lets go of it. Just as her hand settles back on his shoulder, her fingers dig in the flesh in retaliation to the dragging caress Harry is delivering underneath her panties. He is being awfully slow at it, collecting wetness all around and bringing it back to slick up her neglected clit. He has readjusted his body back to her level, not wanting to miss the slightest manifestation of her pleasure on her face.

As his movements around the bud speed up, her legs fidget more and more in between his, until the pressure starts building strong in her lower belly and her mind is once again pleading to get him closer to her. Untangling their lower limbs to wrap hers around his waist, his response comes in a feverish kiss and his ministrations moving from her tingly clit to her wet opening. They resume their circling motion, index teasing its way in but never quite making an entrance; the patience game he seems to be playing not to y/n’s liking as she groans against his lips.

"Flustered, are we?" He has the audacity to use her own words against her but somehow it turns her on even more. Makes her all the more curious to discover just how sassy he can be when he’s got her in a puddle at his fingers. Quite literally. 

"Don’t be mean." Y/n pouts before laying open mouth kisses along his neck. Maybe that’ll motivate him.

"Sorry, love. You’re just so drippy down there, it’s driving me crazy. Is it all fo’ me?" He kisses her forehead in a vain attempt to make up for all the riling up he’s doing. 

He forgets he can be as easily riled up though, when y/n susurrate at his ear "You know it is." 

The admittance has him pushing his hips against her, effectively pressing his fingers harder on her pussy. They both moan in unison at the friction, heightened pleasure coursing through their bloodstream, saturating their veins. It’s then they realize there’s so much more to come, like the moment ticked something off in their brains, and now they can’t get naked fast enough. Frantic hands pulling at the remaining clothing articles left of their bodies while their lips are caught in an equally raging war. A war they’re battling on the same side as they fight for the same thing: intimacy, passion, closeness. 

Once they’re both left bare to the other’s eyes, they take a second to revel in the moment. It took all the patience and abnegation in the world to get them to this point. Days of yearning stifled in silent admonition and nights of supposedly wishful thinking that left them wanting more at every new sunrise. So much anguish turned into so much elation as the truth prevailed though. That’s a lot pleasure warranted to make up for lost time. 

"Been dyin’ to taste you, darlin’. What d’ya say?" He asks in between kisses. Their naked bodies are so untangled they can’t tell beginning from end, but Harry is all too willing to unweave himself form y/n’s loving limbs if it means he gets to have her on his tastebuds. And apparently so is she, if the high-pitched ‘please’ breathing past her lips is any indication.

The smugness returns on his face as he once again undertakes the delightful descent to her sensitivity. There is no material stopping him this time though, just more skin begging to be brought to life. And when his lips finally surf across her mound, the goose pumps blooming in their wake just prove him right. Her breathy noises only spur him on, tongue finally taking a long swipe across her lips, like a secret weapon kept under wrap for the most opportune time. 

Y/n’s hands are quick to grab onto something, and the absence of linens underneath her only hastens her reach for him: one hand buried deep in his headful of curls, the other resting on his own hand at her hip. She feels his thumb rubbing soothingly at her skin there and she loves how tender he can be, even while simultaneously devouring her in greedy licks. The contrast as her vision blurring and no matter how much she wants to watch him have the meal of his life, her body is too riddled by pleasure to keep herself focused enough. 

The feeling only keeps intensifying as Harry properly delves into her, tongue first, his other hand eventually coming to hold her thigh down as it keeps clamping back shut at every new wave of ecstasy rushing over her. "So good, Harry. Feels so good." She keeps chanting in delirium, and Harry’s own excitement is starting to grow unbearable. There’s no way he can’t let go of her to relieve himself for a second though, he’ll just have to wait for her unravelling.

"Taste so sweet, love. Come on, please cum fo’ me. Need it real bad." He pleads for her undoing as though Time was about to rip her away from him before he got to properly have her.

Deciding the moment calls for a change in tactic, he brings two fingers to her wet hole and swiftly slides them inside of her. Rejoicing when he is met with no resistance, he quickly brings his lips back to her sensitive bud, alternating between hard sucks and pacifying licks.  

It doesn’t take much longer for the knot inside of her to come undone and her orgasm to take over every parcel and every atom of her. And Harry can’t get enough. She’s everywhere: all around his tongue as he keeps fucking into her in earnest strokes; up to his nose while the angle has him brushing against her clit; down his ears with songs of uncontrollable bliss; underneath his hands as he can feel every spasms seizing her body. 

He tends to her sensitivity until she’s too overwhelmed to bear it, and complies when she gives a small tug at his hair. Their lips immediately find each other even though they were both rendered breathless by y/n’s climax. She can taste it on his lips so vividly, it makes her moan at how utterly crazy he’d gone at it. She tenderly swipes away the wetness on his chin while their tongues waltz together, and brings him closer to her with a koala move. Soon they are both made acutely aware of Harry’s excitement as his hard member is trapped between their heated bodies. 

"You’re incredible." Y/n finally voices with a look of unadulterated love and pure wonder. Her smile only emphasizes her confession and Harry’s heart swells so hard, he wonders if the butterfly on his stomach feels it too. He mirrors her beam with one of his own before lowering his forehead against hers. His muscles are starting to feel sore from the tension that has yet to be liberating from his body, and it takes all he’s got, not to drop the support his arms provide as they lay on each side of y/n’s face.

"Got me so hard, love. Feels like imma bout to explode." He admits while sliding his cock back and forth along her sweetness. He feels like a ticking bomb, winded so tight from years of nerve-wracking suspense, that have never felt more like foreplay than right at this moment, as y/n reaches out to him. Her hand confidently wraps around his shaft to deliver long strokes that have him shudder in pleasure. 

"Gonna do something about it?" She murmurs tauntingly at him.

"Mhm" is all he can respond before taking her hand from his cock and holding it down above her head in an interlocking grip. Taking a hold of his hard member, he then proceeds to gently tap her clit with his sensitive tip, in retribution for a teasing behavior. "Do we need a rubber?" He remembers to ask in between her moans.

"Not on my account." She answers truthfully, and Harry exults in knowing there will be nothing but warm smooth walls enveloping his dick once he finally has her.

"Yeah? Gonna let me just slide in? Take me all the way an’ keep me there forever?" The words have a clear purpose to wind her up further, but Harry thinks he might have screwed himself over with that one, as he finds himself equally aroused at the idea. Precome is already leaking from his reddened and swollen tip, only adding to the mess they’ve made together.

She answers him with a gentle kiss and her free hand comes to hold his jaw, thumb caressing his cheek in light motion. Their lips part for a shaky breath as Harry slowly pushes himself inside of her. They both sigh when his hips meet hers, every tensed molecule in their body uncoiling at the delicious friction. 

As he starts rocking into her, Harry’s hand grabs at y/n’s thigh to keep it close around hip. His other hand is still interweaved with hers by her head and he doesn’t think he’ll ever let got of it.

He’s movement starts to speed up, as the pleasure becomes stronger and the change in pace has y/n arching into him. He takes the opportunity to slide his hand up her back, when his fingers come in contact with a tiny item on the floor. In confusion, he takes it out from under her, and brings it up between them. Puzzled faces relax in recognition as they take in a square shape piece of their long forgotten game, the letter G carefully painted on its surface. 

"Guess I found it, huh." He jokes before tossing the piece away, and they both burst in laughter at the silly pun, Harry’s face buried in her chest. How can one have still so much wit even when balls deep in their secret-not-so-secret-anymore crush for the first time? Y/n loves it, though. It makes all the rapture even more delectable to know the one giving it to her is the same old Harry who almost gave her a heart attack once from how hard she was laughing. 

Laughters quickly merge into gasps of pleasure at the pressure of y/n’s walls tightening around Harry’s cock. Just like that, the playful interlude is over, letting lust conquer all. Powerful thrusts resume their pounding motion as y/n once again dissolves into colorful moans, and Harry takes his hand back up her spine until he’s holding onto the back of her neck. Kisses are trailed down her throat as he tilts her head slightly to the side. "Squeezin’ me so hard, love. Must be doin’ somethin’ right," He says against her skin, as he pounds into her. He can feel her walls clenching again, body twitching around him and he knows she’s close to her peak.

Removing his hand from underneath her, all the whilst not relenting from his earnest fucking, he brings two fingers to her lips, caressing the soft flesh before dipping past them. "Come on darlin’, make ‘em wet for me." He commands and the mere word have her throbbing from anticipation. Obediently, she accepts the digits in her month and starts wrapping her tongue around them like she would his cock. As she indulges in a soft suction, Harry’s hips snap even harder, making her wheeze in response. 

Fingers free from the confine of her warm mouth, he fits them down where their body meet and starts rubbing at her clit. "About to cum, aren’t you? Can feel it too, you know," he starts rambling to distract him from his own impending climax, "Gonna give it to me good, yeah? Wanna feel it all around, makin’ a mess o’ me, alright?"   

"Yes, Harry. ‘M so close," y/n answers before giving a sharp tug at his hair, "fuck me harder, please." It takes all his might not to nut right then and there, but the prospect of sharing the sweetest high of all with her, gives him enough resolve to hold back. Instead, he endeavors to make good on her request by delivering hard and vigorous thrusts that has her bucking against him. Wet noises start feeling the space around them, arousal coating their joined bits as well as Harry’s busy fingers. "That’s it, that’s it, almost there" he keeps muttering like prayers whispered to the Almighty. And it seems like the heavens are responsive tonight as a couple of hard calculated shoves is all it takes for y/n’s orgasm to rupture and send her spiraling. 

"Harry," his name on her lips at this very moment might just be the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. "Feels so good." Bliss and ecstasy are written all over her face, and the visual coupled with the sensation of her pussy still hugging tight onto his shaft, send him to a euphoric release of his own. Goose pumps pave their way across his skin as he gives a few more rolls of his hips to accompany the ribbons of cum spurting out of his cock. Y/n’s name is the only thought consuming his hazy mind, the only sound leaving his mouth against the tender skin of her throat where he’s buried his face. Slowly he then removes himself from her - not without a whine at the newfound emptiness greeting them both - and plops down by her side.

The living room is filled with an eery silence for a minute, as both y/n and Harry process everything that just transpired and give their body and chance to recuperate. Their sides are still touching, sticky from sweat, their breathing slowly regulating back to an even level. Harry carefully slides his hand into hers and they both share a look of affection.

"That was amazing." Y/n breaks the silence first in a hushed voice, and her confession makes Harry smile in pride.

"Fuck, com ’ere." He says although he’s the one lifting himself up on one elbow to give her a languid kiss. As he settles next to her, yet another Scrabble piece makes an appearance, this time stuck to the skin on the side of his shoulder before it falls off in a soft thud on the floor. He must have laid down on it in post-orgasmic bliss and the sweat made it stick there for a second.

Y/n picks it back up with a beaming smile as she inspect the little token. "Damn, for once I was actually kicking your ass at Scrabble. Kinda screwed myself over, didn’t I." She laughs at how she’d been so intent on winning the game, yet had been the one to throw the game board  along with caution to the wind.

"Actually love, I believe I was the one you screwed." Harry playfully retort, earning him a small slap to the stomach. The gesture only makes him laugh some more as he engulfs her in a crushing embrace. 

➪ Masterlist

[utterlyinevitable]

Hurricane (Part 8)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Warning: angst Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.  

A/N: The ending is trash. But it’s my trash. We’ve got one more chapter to go and then that’s a wrap on this project! 

________________________________________

Naveen drove the car back to the cabin before parking it on the cobbled drive, the engine shutting off with a quick flick of his key. Still caught in an awkward silence as heavy as the rain clouds above, the trio padded back towards the cabin. Ethan watched Becca out of the corner of his eye, holding a few paces back with Naveen to let her approach the porch first. In the doorway, Sienna was waiting with two bath towels draped over her arms. A wave of relief washed over her petite form as she saw them; her big eyes softening and bottom lip quivering with all the emotions she saved for the worst of outcomes.

“Becca!” Sienna called as she closed the distance between her and Becca, wrapping her soaking wet friend in a hug around a large, plush towel. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

For someone who’s life nearly drifted away with the current earlier, Becca seemed strangely quiet and calm. She didn’t even look at Sienna; darkened eyes trained on her peripheral, towards the unrelenting waters. “I’m fine, Si. Just went for a little swim.”

Sienna looked at her with critical eyes, not believing a single word coming out of her friend’s mouth. She would have said something in any other circumstances, but she was too thankful that Becca was breathing at the minute. This conversation would have to wait. She turned her attention to the other rogue swimmer now coming up behind them, handing him the other towel still draped on her arm.    

“Ethan, are you okay?” she asked the attending, her trained doctor’s eyes scanning him for obvious injuries. 

He took the offered towel gratefully. “Please, there is no need to worry about me.” He wiped his face first then draped the burgundy fabric over his shoulders, shivering as the cold wind caught his wet clothes, “Where’s Jenner?” 

Sienna nodded towards the ajar door, her arms still wrapped securely around her best friend. “In with Elijah.” 

Ethan nodded and went inside to his dog, sparing one last glance towards a despondent Becca on his way. 

With a small, resigned sigh, Sienna turned her full attention back towards her friend and guided her to the door. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” 

Sienna led Becca inside and up to her room. Elijah didn’t notice the girls as he was in deep conversation with Ethan in the archway to the den. For that, Becca was thankful; they could just slip upstairs and rest.  

 As soon as the girls reached the threshold of the master suite, Sienna closed the door softly behind them and reached for her friend, her eyes severe now that they were blessed with the privacy they didn’t have earlier. “You okay?” She asked with a concerned hand gripping Becca’s forearm; her tone of voice emitting a firm warning that she would accept the truth and nothing else.

Becca shrugged Sienna off, taking a step back to shed her wet clothes and throwing on her pajamas. Biting her tongue this round, Sienna gathered up the strewn garments into a pile and wrung them out in the bathroom, making a mental note to wash them once the power came back on. Becca didn’t waste a single second before immediately crawling under the covers while Sienna watched with a very careful eye.  

Sensing the stare, Becca sighed heavily. “Si, I’m fine. Truly.” 

Her friend wasn’t convinced. “That’s what you say, but you were literally being ripped down stream, you could have died.” 

“But I didn’t.” 

Light pads of sock-clad feet walked to the bed with private determination and sat on the edge of the mattress, her eyes begging. “Talk to me, please.” - a hand reaching for the top of Becca’s thigh - “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

But Becca wasn’t waving, keeping her gaze on the darkwood bedpost in front of her to avoid Sienna’s concerned one. “That I really need to sleep. I’m exhausted.” 

“Bec-” 

There was a knock at the door, making both ladies tense in place. Sienna reluctantly moved to open it and was met with Dr. Banerji’s warm smile, his medical bag cradled against his hip. 

Ever in dire situations like this one, the senior doctor never seemed to run out of positive energy. He stepped in the room and glided closer to the bed, a comforting smile decorating his lips. “I’ve come to take your temperature and listen to your lungs,” he informed them. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

Becca rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, letting Naveen inspect her. Thankfully, she only had a few cuts on her hands that were in need of bandaging, most likely inflicted while she fought to hold herself against the current earlier 

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he applied ointment and bandages to her palms.  

“Tired.” 

“As expected,” he nodded. She wasn’t forthcoming, so he made sure to update her on what has been going on downstairs; “Ethan has a gash on his leg. Dr. Greene is stitching him up.” The gossiper in him carefully gauged her reaction while his more romantic side hoped to see something pass along her features, possibly akin to relief, but he was disappointed there was nothing but the tired eyes of a woman who’s been through hell that afternoon. 

She felt his critical gaze searching her. The third one silently scrutinizing the last hour; and it made her blood begin to boil.  

“I didn’t need rescuing. I know how to combat a riptide. What he did was stupid,” she clarified, indifferent to his comment.  

Naveen chuckled and offered her a kind smile, although one that hid a hint of seriousness in it. “We both know exactly why he did it, Becca.”  

Becca scoffed and shook her head, looking away. 

The older doctor sighed and put away his medical tools. He obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of her tonight, and he’d been around this kind of temperament long enough to know when to resign. It was almost comical just how similar she was to his protégé, especially when it came to their ironclad stubbornness. “You’ve been through a lot today, dear. I’m prescribing you some much-needed rest.” 

Becca rolled her eyes.

With a taut smile, Naveen gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before taking his medical bag and leaving the room.

  While Naveen was with Becca, Sienna had excused herself to make some tea. The petite resident was now staring at the kettle, transfixed, but not actually watching the steam spill out into the shadows of night. The worry for her friend still ever present in her mind and the creases on her forehead. In a daze Sienna poured two two mugs full. 

She was just setting the kettle back down on the hob when a gruff sound had her jumping out of her trance and turning on the balls of her feet.  

“Let me,” Ethan said quietly. 

The two shared the same despondent look, though one of them had a deeper reason for it. 

Sienna’s eyes expertly roved over him. He’d changed into clean pajamas, his hair wild and partially dry from drying it in a towel. His weight being carried on one side of his body, no doubt from his injury. His eyes were dark, and there were prominent purple circles under his eyes. And his large hand was extended towards her, waiting with all the patience of a dying man. 

With a small smile, she hands the mug over without a single reservation. 

And Sienna watches intently as Ethan gingerly makes his way through the cabin and up to Becca. 

 *

In the few short minutes she was left alone Becca snuggled deeper into the blankets. Rolled onto her side so her back was to the door and her face buried in a pillow begging her to spill everything all over. 

Over her tormenting thoughts she recognized the patter of footsteps against the hardwood of the hallway and sniffled all the emotion back. If Sienna saw her crying it’d become a much bigger thing than Becca ever wanted it to be. She’ll save her tears for later. 

When the steps grew louder, crossing the threshold, Becca muttered, “You should just sleep here tonight instead of going up and down to check on me.” 

“Do you think that’s wise?”

Even in the minimal light of the candle on the dresser Ethan could see her stiffen. Could hear the discontented sigh that escaped her when his words met her ears. 

He stood suspended in the doorway, questioning every instinct he thought he knew.    

Becca shifted under the sheets, moving to sit up in bed. 

“Thought you were Sienna.” Her tone was still and level and wildly indifferent as she chanced a look at him.  

“Sorry to disappoint,” he muttered back. Crossing the distance Ethan held out a mug to her; “Are you okay?” 

She took the offering, a forced smile on her lips. “Peachy.” 

“Becca…”

“I’m fine, Ethan.” She groans, deflating. “What do you want me to say?” 

“You can start with why you’ve been upset with me all day.” 

Becca couldn’t help the absolutely indecent chortle that erupted from her. 

“I’m not upset with you. I’m mad at myself.” 

Ethan made a garble akin to Huh?

And that just fueled the fire that’s begun to rage within her the last day and rivals the treacherous storm this hurricane caused. 

“Why did you come after me?” She all but spat the accusation. “It was so reckless and stupid. You could have been hurt. You have stitches for Christ’s sake!” 

“You could have drowned. I wasn’t going to let that happen.” 

The audacity in his unbridled poise had her stirring under the sheets and gripping the mug tighter. 

“Superman Complex already belongs to someone else. Why, Ethan.” 

It was a standoff between them. Him in his dry clothes - white tee and gray sweatpants, standing at the side of her bed. Becca was shielded by the blankets but still sitting tall and commanding for someone of her stature. He couldn’t read her ever-telling body language in the dim light of the master bedroom. All he could make out was her silhouette, rigid and doing all she could to cloak herself behind an unsuccessful curtain of hair.  

Holding onto the sliver of revelation he had earlier, Ethan spoke truthfully. 

“Because I care about you. You have such a fulfilling life ahead an-” 

It certainly didn’t have the intended impact. For she cut him off with a resoundingly offended; 

“Can you stop.” 

His darkened azure eyes were wide with panic. “What -” 

“I’m sick of these mind games.”

Her tone was flat, and that scared Ethan Ramsey more than anything. It would be better if she was yelling. He found himself wishing she was yelling even if he had no inkling as to what this argument is actually about.  

“I know you care about me, Ethan. But is that all this is?” 

She finally looked him in his eyes. The darkness of the room complimented the depths of her darkened irises, and he couldn’t see a single emotion in them. All he could see was all of his failures. 

“I - I’m in too deep with you. I may have almost drowned this afternoon, but it was nothing compared to this choking feeling of swimming in all this doubt and uncertainty.” 

He moved towards her. Placing his mug on the bedside. This close he could just begin to make out the hurt in the creases of her frown. 

“Becca,” he reached for her. His hand suspended in midair, waiting for her permission to cup her cheek. 

Instead, she looked down at her fingers tracing the Edenbrook logo on the pristine white ceramic mug between her palms. 

Ethan waited. 

And waited. 

Frozen in place until she said something, anything. 

“Be honest with me,” the words came out on an exhale. “No one else is around. Just me.” Her voice so frail as she turned her whole form towards him. “Tell me.”

The outstretched fingers on his hand curled inwards. His fist raised -- once, twice punching against an invisible opponent as his inner self weighed all his options.

He could tell her - he could finally be truly honest. 

He could do what’s right. 

He could lay everything out there and let her take the reins. 

More realistically, he could continue to hold onto the values he’d had all his life. 

The longer the silence hung between them, and the pattering of the storm echoed throughout the bedroom walls, the more a reality without her became apparent.

Rebecca Lao is a strong woman - he knows this. And Ethan is ever so aware that she won’t wait for him forever. If her stint today told him anything it’d be that it is he who couldn’t survive a life without her. 

Every millisecond that passed, every slight turn of her head and stroke of her finger against the mug, he knew he was losing her. And for once, Ethan Ramsey - renowned doctor, known for his belligerent voice and affluent vocabulary - couldn’t find the words.  

Just as she let out a disquieting breath, he took the leap. Knees pressed flush against the side of the mattress. Long, deft fingers grazing the quilt at the side of her hip. His eyes never leave her. Becca was looking down as if all hope was lost. As if his silence spoke for him.  

It didn’t - 

“I want to be with you.” 

Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? Far longer than she’d care to admit, that’s for sure. 

Ethan watched her lips part, her jaw slacken. Every pretty feature he adored more than life itself stunned stiff. 

In true fashion Becca schooled her features as soon as his words rang through the mahogany room. Bitter words formed on her tongue, accompanied by a desolate huff, 

“You sure about that?” 

Not a single hesitation as Ethan responded, “Yes.”  

“You sure have some fucked up way of showing it.” She watched him from the corner of her eye, shifting in his place and a rueful tug at the corners of his mouth. 

Ethan kneeled down beside the bed, coming to her level, “I know.” 

This is never how Becca imagined getting Ethan Ramsey down on his knees. All those fantasies didn’t join a near death experience or a fight. 

His palms spread out on the quilt. All of him itching to touch her. If he could touch her, everything would be okay. 

A beat forced itself between them. Ethan staring at his fingers inching towards her above the horrid colored quilt, and Becca looking blankly at the top of his head. 

And then she murmured;  

“I can’t be with you if you’re going to treat me like shit all the time.” 

“It was never my intention. I just want what’s bes-” 

“Best for me, I know. But you don’t get to dictate that. It’s my life, I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.” 

He was listening. He was guilty and listening. 

“I want you, Ethan.” 

Those words were like music to his ears - to know she really, truly shared the sentiment. His deep blue gaze flickered up to her; staring at her from under long lashes and hanging on to her every word. This was everything they’ve both wanted - a proper admission of devotion. Then why did she look so sad?  

“But not if you’re going to keep pulling away from me.”  

Ah. There it was. All his faults coming back - his one mistake at abandoning her after she needed him most digging deep.  

“I’m sorry. All of this was to protect you. I’ll always, always protect you.” 

Becca’s heart skipped a beat at the unbridled conviction in his tone against her better judgment.  

“I don’t need a hero, Ethan.” Becca shook her head in kind admonishment. “I want a partner. Someone who will let me make mistakes and just hold me through it at the end of the day.” 

A bolt of lightning cracked in the distance. Their stare on one another so strong, devoted, that she couldn’t see through the clear blue of his irises and deep into his soul the moment the fleeting lightness peered in. 

“Okay,” was all he said.  

He responded quickly and with such fortitude that she couldn’t help but be skeptical. 

Becca rose a brow. 

Ethan moved closer and grabbed her hand, adding a squeeze. 

In a low voice she said, “I want to make the most of the time we have left. If I get a job elsewhere… I don’t want to regret anything.” 

His brows pulled together as this little known fact wormed its way into his rationality. “You’re thinking of leaving Edenbrook?” He held onto her hand just a bit tighter. 

“I don’t know,” she half shrugged. “If…”

He finished the question for her. “Of course you’ll have a job. The spot on my team is yours.” 

“Yeah, I know. But if…” Becca didn’t know how to accurately explain her fears. If they didn’t work out after all this would she still be able to work with him? Would he be able to? What if she received an amazing offer elsewhere. What happens to them if she takes it? 

“Can we not think about this right now.” 

Taking both her cold hands in his, Ethan simply nodded. 

He could feel the scary stirring in the pit of his stomach. Every pang of it subsiding the longer her warmth was within reach. The last of his fears overtaken by the most adorable sound as she stifled a yawn.  

Ethan let go of her hand just long enough to brush some strands back from her face. Un-showered and salty from the day’s events her cheek was still soft under his touch. He leaned up to press the lightest of pecks to her forehead. 

Ethan was less than a few centimeters away from where she wanted him most. One movement and it could all be right and well. Becca brushed her nose against the stubble of his chin, coaxing him downwards. She could feel his grin against her skin as his stubble marked her nose. Every second he didn’t succumb, the tip grew redder and redder. 

Ethan pulled back - too far for a quick descend down to her lips - and Becca almost threw a tempered fist into the mattress. Almost. 

He was looking at her with such reverence it made her whole entire body tingle. Like his stares were the hand of Da Vinci trying to capture her image - immortalize it for the rest of time. Trying desperately to paint this to memory - this moment where everything for them seemed to change for the better. This was the moment Ethan Ramsey knew. 

Becca was mere inches away. One more movement and she would know - know that he is irrevocably her. One more movement and he’d seal their fate. 

Her eyes flickered down to his chapped lips, and this time she didn’t look away. This time there was no enchanting classic playing on the television, just the person before them. This time Ethan was thankful for her focus. He let out the breath he was holding in. Watched her eyelids flutter as the warm gust met her lashes. Leaned in and listened. Listened to the erratic thumping. Thumping of his heart or hers or the hurricane, he didn’t know. 

Didn’t care. Couldn’t give a damn about anything other than her. 

Their lips met. Softly, tenderly. The shortest, most endearing kiss they’ve ever had. Neither wanting to ruin this with overzealous lust.  

They pulled back, unencumbered smiles gracing their features; and then she yawned again. 

Light with strange happiness, Ethan gently pressed her back into pillows. Pulled the covers around her to tuck her in. 

He kissed her chastely once more. Then pulled away. 

Every step he took from her side of the bed had her chiding herself for being so stupid for believing him this time. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. 

Ethan moved through the darkness. The raging winds of reality jolted through them, pounding on the expansive windows. Getting louder and more unruly the further he got. 

But then he did something so unexpected. So surprisingly unlike the man she thought she knew. 

He pulled back the covers of the other side of the bed and slipped in. Ethan shifted closer and closer atop the king sized bed until his arm wrapped around her waist, the other snaking under her neck. Becca welcomed him without a single hesitation or ill thought. This is exactly what she hoped for yesterday. 

Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her - as he dove into the covers with her, never intending to come back up. Their sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. In this moment - and all of them to come, he’s sure - he and Becca were the only two people in the universe.

The storm outside was moving miles and miles away. 

________________________________________

A/N: there was meant to be a cute bathtub scene at the end before they went to bed. it required too much effort so it got the axe. oh well! thanks for sticking around <3

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[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 25

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)

A/N:  CHILDREN, SHIELD YOUR EYES FOR THIS ONE. For those over 18, i hope you enjoy this chapter xx

NEXT CHAPTER

It was late in the evening. Within the static sound of silence as the soft cricketing coming from outside his window, a roar of laughter broke into the atmosphere of his bedroom. Forcefully closing his eyes and pulling his duvet over his head, Sebastian wished the sounds would subside yet every time the silence over ruled his mind, another round of laughing would break through.

After what felt like an hour of trying to fall back into a deep and sound slumber, Sebastian quit his trying, instead climbing off his bed and walking off his bedroom. It was no oddity to have the house filled with people, in all honesty it was odder for the house to be empty, however, this particular day, everyone seemed to be having a good time between the smell of cigars and the sounds of bottles being opened. He observed the party from the end of the stairs, being mostly ignored by his father’s associates except for one particular woman.

He noticed her eyes drift from the party all to way to him, a warm smile forming on her face. Swiftly, she got away from the table, walking over to where he was standing and crouching over to his height. She dressed no different than the other women in the room, wearing tight yet beautifully tailored clothes with her hair swiftly brushed to the side of her neck allowing for the view of her décolletage where a gold necklace laid comfortably. Unlike the other women, she had a rather inviting smile and the type of eyes that always seemed to smile even when her lips weren’t. 

     - Hi, I’m Robin. What’s your name? - she spoke in a very soft velvety voice which convolved the atmosphere in warm cozy feelings. 

     - Sebastian. 

     - And who is this? - she pointed at the stuffed bunny he was holding by one of its ears. 

    - Oreo. - he coyly said, a bit embarrassed in the presence of the elegant woman.

    - That’s a beautiful name. You have great taste. Is the noise bothering you, Sebastian? - he nodded, face hidden behind the fur of his stuffed bunny. - I’m sure we can do something about that. 

Sebastian never really ended up going through his father’s office’s belongings, mostly getting his staff to pack it all in cardboard boxes which had ended up on the highest shelves that lined the walls of his office. Y/N had gotten to it rather fast and now they were surrounded by several boxes filled with contracts and piles of papers. Most contracts Sebastian had never heard of and was rather interested in reading while Y/N was looking through his contact book. 

He couldn’t help but stare at her and how breathtakingly stunning she looked just while analysing a little black book, with little baby hairs falling in front of her face while she bite onto her lip mindlessly and a hand standing on top of the bird shaped charm on her necklace. 

    - No Robins. - Y/N sighed, the tinge of sadness overwhelming the breathing sound. 

    - I could swear my father knew someone with that name. - his hand came to rest on her thigh, rubbing invisible circles on the fabric of her trousers. - Maybe you ought to question Daniel or his father about it. 

   - I would rather avoid the “you’re not in the mob” discussion. - her cheeks raised up to the bottom of her eyes, a tight lipped smile slowly forming. - I shouldn’t be digging into this. They’re dead, it’s not like they’re gonna suddenly return if I find who they were. 

   - Listen ... - he scotched towards her, back slightly bent so his eyes were at the same height as hers. Yet, the handmaid seemed more interested in looking at the lines in her palm rather than the mob boss. Something in the back of her head screamed at her to let past be past and stop annoying and wasting Sebastian’s time and as such, she couldn’t hold eye contact. - Whoever they are, they can’t stay a secret forever. Nothing stays a secret in this business for long. 

  - What if they’re not dead and they just didn’t want me? - there had always been that option in her mind, mostly due to a comment one of her classmates had made years ago. It was the only plausible explanation as to why both Daniel and Mr. Forrest dismissed her questions about her parents. After all, it wasn’t like a baby is always welcomed and as mere workers maybe they didn’t have the money to raise her. Yet, the woman in the picture seemed to be dressed in rather expensive garments. Maybe the simple answer was that they didn’t want her.

   - Who cares. Who the hell are they not to want you? 

   - Nobody seems to. 

   - I want you. - his finger caressed her jaw, pushing a few strand of hair away from her face. Her gaze lifted from her palms to his face and his clear blue eyes before she found herself leaning towards him, her hand placed on the back of his neck as she kissed him. Y/N pushed him softly towards the carpeted grounds of his office and climbed on top of him, removing her Christmas jumper before throwing it to floor, leaving her in a rather scandalous red lacy bra she had gotten from Gwen as it had not fit her.

She could see in his eyes, dark and blue, her own reflection and that of her nakedness, as well as his thoughts battling each other as he attempted to choose what to do - push her off and help her find more of the stuff she was looking or enjoy the time he still had and make a choice later. It didn't matter. Before he could say or do anything to prevent her, Sebastian was already enchanted by the way she rolled her hips on top of him. 

He groaned at the look of her on top of him and his hands, instinctively, moved up to hold her thighs as to push her further against him. This allowed her to feel his thick member harden further under her, making Y/N moan and groan against his ear as she grinded against it as teasingly and slowly as she possibly could. Driven insane by the pleasure she was giving him, Sebastian grabbed her body, wrapping his large arms around the handmaid’s whole figure, turning and pinning her under his body, worshiping her body in any and every way he knew how.

Gradually, his kisses became wilder and wilder escalating from small pecks and nibbles on her neck to sloppy wet kisses and bites, painting her skin with hickeys that would show up later, and making her gasp and moan at the sensation of his warm lips on her cold body. He traveled further and further down, his tongue gliding skilfully across the valley of her breasts yet it was when he wrapped his hot tongue around her perky buds that Y/N completely lost herself with pleasure.  At that moment, she was grateful there was no one at the penthouse as she was sure every room had a good understanding of what was happening in his office. She moaned as she pushed her hips forward, wanting to create some sort of friction to give some rest to the growing heat in between her legs. He smirked at this, sliding his fingers down to the middle of her legs and rubbing them over her entrance through her leggings, which had also grown wet.

  - Isn’t someone excited ... - he smirked, hands making quick work of her leggings as he pulled them quickly, along with her matching red panties.

She bit her lip with need as Sebastian got rid of his own clothing, taking off his sweatpants and leaving him completely naked which made her mind go various other dirty places as she realised he had been going commando this whole time. Lining up his length, Sebastian pushed inside of her slowly to tease her further. Y/N groaned, tightening her hold on his waist, begging to be taken by him and for once he heard her pleas but gave her no time to adjust to his size as he snapped his hips right into hers before beginning to thrust.

   - S...Sebastian, don't stop. - Y/N pleaded in murmurs, sinking her nail polish free nails into his back which would for sure would leave some red marks as he thrusted faster and harder into her heated core. He had settled for an easy albeit painful slow pace as not to hurt her but once her legs started to wrap around his waist a little bit too tightly he quickly understood what she wanted and moved his hips against hers as fast as a bullet coursing through pure air. 

  - You're still so fucking tight, angel. - he cursed, nuzzling against the crook of her neck and nibbling on the skin he found there which only excited her even more. In all honesty, she would have never pictured herself as one to do it outside the bedroom but here she was. 

The feeling of his lips circling around already bruised hickeys on her neck made her moan loud and clear in his ear, hands moving from his back lightly covered with sweat to his hair which was glued to his skin, running her fingers through it as he kissed and peppered her with kisses, each more sloppier and wetter than the previous ones. The handmaid groaned deeply at the fast pace that grew, both in velocity and intensity. As her whines became harder to control, she found herself near the edge and with just a few more thrusts and she was sure to cum but once Sebastian took notice of this, he slowed down drastically.

   - No ... Sebastian ... - she whined before she was cut off by his teeth nipping at her bottom lip, making her back arch towards his chest and her breasts press up against his chest as tightly as ever, specially since the two of them were in a mess of an embrace with one arm wrapped tightly around her back while the other served as support. She was a newly defiled virgin but she could bet he was probably better at this than the others. - Don’t. 

    - I adore you, little angel but you don’t get to give me orders. - he told her, teasing her as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. This made Y/N groan in reply, throwing her head back into the piles and piles of contracts. - Come on, my angel. Beg for it. 

     - What? - she questioned, a pout forming on her lips as she looked at his almost devil-like eyes. Sebastian found it adorable how confused she looked at now getting her way. 

    - Beg for it. - he stilled his movement completely making her whine. - Go on, little angel. I know you can do it. 

    - I need y...you so, so much. R..Right now, please. - she pleaded.

    - I don't think so, angel. I'm having fun hearing you moan my name. - Sebastian chuckled darkly, running his finger along her jaw.

    - P...Please, Sir. - as soon as the title escaped her mouth, she noticed how his eyes shifted and turned dark with lust. Y/N puckered her lips before raising her feet slightly, pushing him towards her.

With a swift motion, his arm slipped from under her body to her knees, raising them both so he could go deeper than before, making her whole vision turn dark with spots that slowly appeared as he continued faster and harder as he mumbled “you little vixen” under his breathe. His blue eyes, now as dark as stormy sea waters, hovered above her and watched her attentively with a smirk, biting and nibbling on her lips, barely muffling her moans.

   - Sebastian! - she screamed loudly, a writhing mess under him as she finally climaxed, shivering and shuddering against his broad-shoulder figure while he continued to snap his hips back against her own, in a sloppier and messier manner, until he himself came with a loud groan erupting from his chest in the shape of he name. Exhausted, he collapsed right on top of her, turning so that she was laying on top of his chest. - Are you gonna send me off again?

   - No, I think I’ll keep you here this time. - he smiled at her, pecking her lips in a soft, velvety manner. - I promise you we’ll find your parents. 

   - You know you don’t have to do that, right? I know how you have work to do and a reputation to maintain.

   - I like a challenge, angel. 

She rested against his chest, letting all her worries flow away. In this state, there was no Gwen, no mob, no money or status, it was just the both of them, intertwined. Nothing else mattered. However, 30 minutes away from them something did matter. A man all dressed in black, wearing a matching pair of sunglasses met up with another man just a bit outside of the Forrest residence. In his hand, a beige envelope. 

    - I hope you know I’m putting my neck on the line to get you this. - the one in the dark suit secretly and subtly handed the envelope to the other one standing in front of him. - I don’t know what you’re expecting to find in there, Williams. 

   - Trust me, if I’m right, your reward is gonna be bountiful. 

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[swampofiniquity]

The Luckiest (Chris Redfield x Reader)

Part One of Two

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 2,531 (oops) 

Summary: After work tears him away from your honeymoon, Chris surprises you by coming home early. 

Warnings: sexual content, thigh riding, fingering

Cross posted to AO3

It was a beautiful night and you had the windows open to enjoy the sweet, fragrant breeze as it carried the scent of night-blooming jasmine into your new living room. You had just spent the better part of an hour covering the carpet with a tarp and methodically taping off the trim, getting ready to paint the boring eggshell white walls a more vibrant turquoise. As an artist, there was something soothing to the actions, to even just the intent to paint, to transform your surroundings into something brighter. It was a balm to your frazzled mental state.

It had been a stressful day to say the least, overseeing the movers and contractors while juggling phone calls from your day job and trying to keep the dogs calm in a brand new environment. It was made all the more worse by the obvious, looming absence of your newly pronounced husband. He was originally supposed to be there to help with the move, but now it looked like the same incident that him cutting your honeymoon short was likely to extend into another week.

You were disappointed of course, but not exactly surprised. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to marry the BSAA Captain, but it didn’t stop you from wishing that the man could take at least one well earned vacation without it being interrupted by bio-terrorism.

At least with Chris being away for a while, you had some time to make the new house feel a little more homey before he got back. As of now, you had only managed to unpack the essentials, a few kitchen boxes, some stuff from the master bathroom, and some sheets for the bed. The house itself was still a maze of bare walls, moving boxes, plastic wrapped furniture (unfortunately including your bed frame) and stray bubble wrap.

That, along with the usual worry-induced insomnia that always gripped you when Chris was called away on an extended mission, led to you setting up to paint at 8 o’clock at night.

You had decided to make a night of it, cracking open a cheap bottle of wine, the only one you had that was twist-off since you had no earthly idea where your bottle opener was hiding in the mess of boxes, and dragging out the old boombox to keep you company. You popped in one of the mix CD’s you made back in college and cranked the music up just loud enough to avoid pissing off your new neighbors.

About an hour into painting, you were half tipsy and partially covered in paint, but you were actually having fun and had managed to make decent progress, completing two of the four walls. Your first CD of the night ended, so you took another swig of wine straight from the bottle and selected a new one.

As a new song played and you picked the paint roller back up, your two dogs started barking from where they were sequestered in the other room. You didn’t think much of it since they had been outside recently and been going off at every little noise all day, still not quite comfortable in their strange environment. You knew the doors were all locked and bolted, so you just let them get it out of their system and went back to work with a shrug.

A decision you’d come to regret when you soon felt a hand on your shoulder.

You shrieked and spun around, brandishing the paint roller as a makeshift weapon. The intruder dodged at the last second, narrowly avoiding a bright splat of turquoise across the chest. Your heart beating wildly, your legs almost gave out when you recognized the man standing in your living room.

“Easy there,” came your husband’s familiar rumbling voice, his hands outstretched towards you like he was trying to approach a particularly feisty feral cat.

“God, Chris! You scared the shit outta me,” you dropped the roller, not bothering to look where it landed, and launched yourself into his waiting arms.

He laughed, catching you and lifting you off your feet. “Baby, you are covered in paint!”

“I don’t care. You’re home,” you said into his neck, your body relaxing for the first time in days as you inhaled his scent. He was still wearing his travel-rumpled uniform and probably hadn’t showered in days, but you didn’t mind. He was alive and back where he belonged, that was all that mattered.

“Mmm yes I am. I like what you’ve done with the place,” he quipped, craning his neck around you to survey the half-painted, mostly empty living room. The only furniture that had made it in so far was the sectional couch, still covered in plastic to protect it from any stray paint. You had also set-up a lopsided ‘table’ out of boxes to hold your boombox and half empty wine bottle. It was a far cry from the clean, perfect household you had planned on welcoming him home too.

“Hey,” you whined, shimmying back down to your feet and pulling away to put your hands on your hips. “Don’t mock the process. I’ve been working my butt off to-”

“I hope not,” Chris interrupted, reaching around and groping your ass through your shorts.

You laughed and smacked him in the chest. “You’re a real comedian tonight, huh?”

He bent down and kissed you, and you lost yourself in the feeling for a moment. “I’m anything you want me to be, baby.”

You hummed and wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him pick you back up and going limp in his arms. His lips found your neck and started to leave a series of soft, wet kisses from your jawline to your collarbone. You sighed contentedly. “I just want you to be Chris. I missed him.”

“He missed you too.”

Chris took a deep breath, the action making his chest press even more firmly against yours. This was what he loved most about coming home, even back when home was your old cramped apartment. Being able to leave Captain Redfield and the BSAA and whatever horrors he had faced in the field behind, and just be Chris again. Wrapped in your arms, everything was simple. He was just yours. Your husband. He wondered if that would ever get old, and hoped to god it didn’t.

Fingers playing with the short hair on the nape of his neck, you pulled back so you could see his face. “You need anything, hun? We don’t actually have any food yet, but I could order something. There are a few places nearby that should still be open.”

Chris shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. This,” he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again, his arms tightening around you. “This is everything I need.”

You felt your heart clench and used your hands on his neck to bring him back down for another, deeper kiss. He hummed, coaxing you to open your lips so he could slip his tongue in to tangle with yours. A rush of heat whooshed down between your legs.

“I need you too,” you breathed after separating for air. Chris’ eyes went dark.

“I know, baby. Let me take care of you.” Two strong hands cupped your ass and hoisted you up higher until you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He turned and headed for the wrapped-up couch. “My poor wife, I promised her she wouldn’t be able to walk after our honeymoon and didn’t come through. I need to make it to you, don’t I?”

A sudden surge of arousal stole your voice and you could only nod as Chris sat down on the arm of the couch. He moved you effortlessly until you were settled, straddling one of his muscular thighs. You could feel the heat from his body through your flimsy gym shorts and didn’t bother to hold back a moan.

“You’re so pretty like this, dressed down, no make-up, paint in your hair.” He reached up and tugged at some strands of your ponytail that must have gotten in the way while you worked. You smiled sheepishly. “And I gotta be the luckiest person in the world to be the one to come home to you.”

You felt flushed at his words. “I love you so much.”

Chris kissed you as a response and you got the message as clearly as if he had spoken it. You felt his adoration in the way his hands roamed your body, caressing you gently and finding all the familiar spots that made you shiver. Your own hands shot out to his shoulders, anchoring yourself as the fire he was building inside of you slowly began to ramp up.

Desperate for more, you rocked forward as he continued to kiss you, making you gasp against his mouth as the movement dragged your core against his leg, your underwear and shorts putting delicious pressure on your clit. Chris swore, using his hands to guide your hips into moving again and again until your body took over and you started to ride him in earnest.

“Can I take this off, baby?” Chris tugged at the old, over-sized shirt you threw on before you started painting. Once again, all you could do was nod, your focus split between him and your approaching orgasm. Warm hands trailed up your body after the fabric as he slowly, deliberately rolled it up and over your head.

“This too?” He asked, fingers hooked into the band of your sports bra. “You wanna let me kiss your beautiful breasts while you ride my thigh?”

“Oh god, Chris,” you panted, throwing your head back. You were getting close.

He squeezed you through your bra and your hips stuttered from the added pleasure. “That a yes? Come on, let me hear it.”

“Yes,” you nearly screamed and he wasted no time in sending the restrictive garment flying across the room to join your shirt.

Your skin was hot, but his tongue was hotter as he bent to give much needed attention to your sensitive breasts. He licked and kissed your skin, skimming the edge of your nipples, not quite giving you enough to send you over the edge.

You whimpered. “Chris.”

“I got you, baby.” Finally, he took one of your nipples into his mouth as one of his hands snaked down the front of your shorts. Deft fingers pushed inside you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it relentlessly.

Now riding his hand, your legs turning to jello as your climax built. “Fuck,” you shouted.

“That’s it. You’re so wet for me, my little wife. I want to see you come. Can you do that for me, baby?" He asked, his breath ghosting across your skin as he rambled. He switched sides and pulled your neglected nipple into his mouth, teeth scraping the overly sensitive flesh.

The sweet burst of pain sent you careening over the edge, your whole body shaking as your orgasm hit you. Your mouth dropped open, a scream caught in your throat as he finger fucked you through the aftershocks until you were so overly sensitive that your body squirmed involuntarily away from his hand.

"God, you're perfect." He carefully gathered your still trembling body into his arms and cradled you close to his chest. The soothing thud of his heart beat helped you come back to earth as you buried your too hot face in his shirt. Chris rubbed your back, fingers tracing little circles that left goosebumps on your skin.

"Mmm that feels nice," you almost purred.

You stayed cuddled together like that for a long while, both of you reluctant to move or speak, not wanting to break the quiet, loving spell that had fallen. For the first time since you moved in, the new house felt full. Like home.

Then a loud bark from one of the dogs made you jump. Chris laughed and you relished being close enough to feel it rumble through his chest. "I guess I better go say hi to Dumb and Dumber."

"Don't be mean," you scolded. "Poor things missed you too. I mean, I came back from our trip without you, then packed up all our stuff and moved to a completely different place. They probably thought they'd never see you again."

"Then I better not keep them waiting." When he started to stand, you made to get up too, but Chris shook his head and gently transferred you from his lap to the couch. "You stay, I'll go let them outside. I need a cigarette anyway."

You frowned. Chris had quit smoking back when you first started dating, however he had taken it back up this year and you hated it. Mostly because you knew it was due to stress from his job and he refused to talk to you about it. But he had only just gotten home and you wanted this blissful moment to last as long as possible. You bit your tongue and saved the usual argument for another day. "Don't be too long."

"Don't worry, I'm not done with you tonight yet." He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead and walked off. You couldn't help but laugh at the sound of him greeting the dogs from the other room. Chris had been against getting a pet at first, putting on a stern face and relenting only when you dragged him to the shelter and placed an adorable, wiggly puppy in his over-sized arms. You left that day with two and he'd been a huge softie for the pair ever since.

A similar story to when you first started dating, you mused as you laid out on the couch, the plastic sticking uncomfortably to your bare skin, but you couldn't muster up the energy to move. You also had to wear Chris down with your unbearable cuteness before he brought you home. When you had first met him, he had done little else in your presence but smoke cigarettes and brood.

You must have dozed off in your post-orgasm haze because the next thing you knew, your husband was gently shaking you awake. You stretched out languidly and moaned as some of your joints popped.

"I can carry you up to bed if you want."

You shook your head and grinned up at him. "Just resting up for round two."  

"Oh really?" Chris helped you up and spun you back in his arms. You pressed yourself up against him and the rough fabric of his uniform felt amazing against your bare chest.

"Of course. Why don't you go upstairs and start the shower? I need to put the paint up for tomorrow, but I'll join you."

"You saying I stink?" You squealed as he tickled your sides with the accusation. After a moment of enjoying the torture, he let you wrestle his hands away and place them on your hips.

“No,” you replied, hopping up on your tip-toes to peck his lips. "I'm saying I want you wet and naked and completely at my mercy."

Chris growled, pulling you back into a kiss. His teeth grazed your bottom lip. “Yes, ma’am.”

Part Two Available Here