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#& God’s love & beautiful things - even if it doesn’t feel like it !
faetreides · 3 days
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Art seems like such a sub, like he’d be so down pathetic when he sits between your legs, back to your chest while you give him an hj. He whimpers while you whisper dirty things in his ear and shakes more with each pump OOH I NEED HOLY WATER 😭
he gives switch vibes with a sub lean for suuuuuuure 😮‍💨
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cw: 18+ mdni, handjob, sub!art, set more in the college era, reader’s a switch too btw but art makes them feral, very loving tho, taking care of him after a tough practice, afab reader
“That’s it, just lie back on me. You must be feeling so sore.” You coo, caressing his biceps and getting into position on his bed.
You recline against the wall and open your legs. Art can’t hide the way his eyes light up as he eases onto the bed and swiftly turns around, resting his back against your chest with a soft sigh. You pick up on the groan he attempts to stifle in his palm, knowing how his muscles be absolutely aching right now.
It’s a big deal for you to show that you support him by showing up to his games and practices, so that’s what you doing earlier. You’ve always admired his determination when it comes to tennis, so you don’t mention that losing a college game isn’t the end of the world. Still, you won’t deprive yourself of the eye candy that comes in the form of your boyfriend sweating and grunting as he practices his drills.
Once it was over, he bounded over to you with a tired grin and jokingly pushed your face away when you tried to kiss him. “Angel, i’m all gross now.” He’d laugh, and you’d shut him up by licking some of the sweat of his cheek.
“Did I do good today?” He asks and looks up at you with his big eyes.
You’ll never not be grateful that he seeks out your approval like a dog with a bone, because you’ve never been so proud of someone in your entire life.
“You always do the best, babe.”
Art blushes and tilts his head back onto your shoulder. And for a cliché moment time stand still, the sunset outside casts an orange glow over the room and the two of you. Your boyfriend looks beautiful like this, eyes shut in exhaustion and nestled in your arms.
But you have other plans for the evening than just admiring your boyfriend, there will be plenty of that later during pillow talk.
Art cracks his eyes to see your hands trail down his arms to end up at his crotch. He’s so relaxed that he doesn’t squirm as much as he usually does, but he turns his head to nuzzle your shoulder.
You soothingly murmur to him, “My boy worked so hard today, i think he deserves a reward, don’t you?”
“I want whatever you have to give me.” He genuinely smiles into your skin, shifting his hips to push up against you palming his bulge.
And it’s true, he’d throw his head back like a whore and moan unabashedly no matter if you were edging him with a vibrator of if you were gently grinding your fat ass against his dripping cock.
You teasingly squeeze his clothed bulge and then dip your fingers under the waistband of his white boxer briefs. Thank god for the fact that Art likes to strip down as he soon as he gets back to his room after practice.
“Lift your hips for me, baby boy.” You tell him with a nip to his earlobe.
He sighs again as he gives you the suitable free space to push his underwear down enough to free his cock. It’s so long and pretty, such a good size too. Flushed blush pink at the tip and veiny, your mouth waters but giving your boyfriend head is a reward for a different day.
Art whines when you get your hands on his bare cock, “You know ‘m sensitive, feels so good already.”
“But your tears are so pretty when you’re overstimulated.” You peck his temple and lean your head on top of his, curling your hand around the base of his dick and steadily beginning to pump him. “You should be happy to cum as much as you want, sweets.”
He whimpers and spreads his legs over yours. You hook your feet around his and keep them there.
Pearls of precum bead to the tip of his cock, making the slide easier. You grip him tighter and move your wrist in quick circles as you speed up your thrusting.
“Oh- F-fuck!” He keens, latching onto your hips and arching his back against you.
“Shh, if you can’t handle this how are you supposed to handle my pussy? It’s so much tighter than my hand, baby, you’ve felt how warm and wet it is.”
He cums embarraingly quick when he gets like this, all doped up on how you make him melt. It’s adorable and a huge ego boost, but he can only cum inside you so much before he’s out like a light.
Art gasps at the mention of his treat, and awkwardly twists his torso around to face you, “I can handle it, can i have it now? Please please please please.”
“I don’t know…” You hum, pretending to consider his begging.
You clasp your fingers around his leaking dick and thumb the tip, spreading the precum. You fuck his length with your fist and you’re going so fast, you’re making a ‘thwop! thwop! thwop!’ sound.
“I think I want you to cum just like this, love.”
Art keens as you furiously jack him off. You rile him up by whispering in his ear.
“Got me so hot watching you today. Seeing the sweat on your body when you pulled up your shirt to wipe your face, i wanted to ride you into the ground.”
Art gapes, trying to kick his legs out on reflex but your ankles over his keep him right where you want him. He screws his eyes shut tightly and moans in between his babbling.
“Unh- unh- ‘s so good, gonna cum, can i cum? Please say i can cum, ‘m gonna burst- FUCK!”
You don’t know who’s crying more, Art or his cock. He’s leaking so much that you had to concentrate or you’ll lose your grip.
You don’t let up until he’s heaving a strangled cry and shooting his hips up, spilling on and over your hand like a fountain. He gets so sloppy with it, fucking himself with your fist through the aftershocks.
“That’s it, such a big load for me. I bet you were aching holding all that in, baby.”
And he’s so gorgeous, mouth open wide and tugging on his hair in random intervals. You grab his face with your free head and rub your thumb over his cheek. You let him come down at his own pace, and when he focuses his pretty eyes back on you, you bring your sticky hand to his mouth.
Art cleans his own mess, maintaining eye contact with you. The fierce tomato red blush he’s sporting deepens. You wink at him and slurp up an equal amount of his cum, like a couple sharing a milkshake in an old fashion diner.
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weskie · 2 days
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Perfectionist (Albert Wesker x afab!Reader)
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18+ | this man deserves to hump the bed, oral sex (reader receiving), afab anatomy gn!reader, amab version here | Fic Directory
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Particular.  Methodical. Precise.
Starved.
All words fit to describe the way Wesker handles you.  Even now, even with his face buried between your legs, he works with such intense mindfulness.  Every swipe of his tongue, each bruising nibble to your thighs or heady suckle to your swollen bud is done with the sole intention of bringing you the most pleasure possible.  
Wesker is a perfectionist, and you are the canvas upon which he will paint.  He will carve the beauty of your bliss into this world one swipe at a time, for hours on end if he must. Even in the midst of such a primal deed, he is nothing but grace– until he isn’t.  Until you catch, by sheer luck, the sight of his hips grinding down against the bed.  Just once. 
Just one little slip of his self control.
But how fucking euphoric to know you push him to such extremes.  That the mere taste of your nectar can unravel his unyielding poise is enough to undo you.  With your hands in his hair, gripping, tugging, voice squeaking and pleading, you feel the lightning strike of your release burst through you.  It tingles into your limbs, down your spine.  You arch and squirm, but he holds you in place effortlessly.
He always does.
And he doesn’t stop…  
He laps at your through all of it, fingers beckoning slick from your quivering cunt to feed his insatiable appetite.  His little sounds aren’t lost on you.  The heavy, panted breaths; the little moan here or there; that one particularly drawn out hum of delight when your thighs clamped tight around his head.  
You peer from under heavy eyelids when you feel his lips at your thighs once more, peppering soft kisses as you come down from your release.  To your surprise, his gaze is anything but soft– so unlike his actions.  You find him staring with determined, voracious eyes– red as ever, boring deep into you.  The juxtaposition ignites the strangest blendings of anticipation and adoration.  He’s promising you silently and loudly all at once: you belong to him. 
You are his down to the molecular level and beyond– to the little building blocks of each and every atom in your body. He has made his claim.
The fingers within you continue their motions and his thumb falls to your tender bud.  Wesker is silent as he works you back to madness, basking in the trembling of your legs, nuzzling against the inside of your thigh to feel and watch each and every reaction.  
You can see him faltering again.  So subtle, but you catch the way his hips move. Poor thing. His pants must feel so tight by now… 
You wish he wasn’t so damn dignified all the time.  If he’d only accept that he was allowed the simple pleasures, that he could let go of some of that pride and hump the bed like any normal man.  God, you’d fucking love to see it.  Even just that little gyration was enough to make you clench around his digits.
You can see in his eyes that he’s doing everything in his power to resist it.  
You use your grip in his hair to push him back to your aching core.  His lips curl in a smirk at your clit and you wish more than anything that you could kiss that damned look off his face.  
“Mm, god!” You mewl, knowing full well what such an exclamation means to him. Not a plea to a higher power, no… 
That title is his. 
“So, so good…” you gasp, pushing up to meet his soft tongue. Through the haze, you see it happen again. The smallest arch of his back, the lightest rocking of his hips. 
Is that what he needs? 
“That's– that's it!” 
Again. 
“Al… oh god!” 
Let him know how good he’s doing.
You resist biting back a moan, just to further test the waters. You let those little whimpers sing freely, let his name fall from your lips and your hands tug and pull at his hair. You even dig one of your heels into his back, and then you hear it. 
Nearly silent, Wesker's gasping, open-mouthed whine reverberates against your sopping folds. The sound dances to your ears, more beautiful than any melody to ever grace the world. 
Your fingers curl tighter in his locks, pressing him closer. With your back arched and feet braced, you grind up against his face. Both of his arms lock around your thighs as if, by some measure, to remind you that it’s only by his good graces that you’re allowed to use him so wantonly. 
Another weak noise quivers against your aching cunt, and you find it in yourself to fight off the tendrils of release seeping through every fiber of your being just to watch him.
“I love it!” You gasp, perhaps just a little too breathily.  “L-Love you!”
Which, of course, earns you that reaction you so desperately want.  This time your treat is two sharp rocks of his hips and the unmistakable creak of the bedframe protesting against his strength.
You’re playing such a dangerous game with him.  What if you get what you want, hm?  What if you make the man-made god come in his pants?  What then?
Surely there will be consequences for pushing him into such a position.  Perhaps he’ll make you lick him clean.  No, no… that’s hardly a punishment.  What if he threw you over his knee?
Also not quite the worst case scenario.
So you sing for him.  With every little breath, you vocalize how good it feels, how good he feels, until suddenly those subtle grinds against the bed are anything but and he’s practically growling against your heat.  
His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed, tongue fucking in and out of you while his nose presses to your clit, and he humps against the bed as though the panopticon of his pride had never been there at all to observe such a desperate act unbecoming of a god.
The sight sends you hurtling over the edge, back rising from the bed as you shiver and shake and gush more slick for his greedy tongue.  His name falls from your lips over and over like a prayer, and by the time your back hits the bed once more you hear and feel him finding his own release as he thrusts away at nothing.
The thought alone of what just happened is enough to make you see stars…
You pet through his hair affectionately, cooing praise until those piercing eyes crack open and stare lazily through the haze.  His mouth stays pressed at the base of your mound, slick glistening at the tip of his nose and the curve of his cheek– too invested in painting his masterpiece to realize he’d become part of it.
Eventually though, you manage to get him to crawl back up.  You thumb away at the mess, utterly hypnotized when he grabs your wrist and sucks your digit clean. You can see it in his eyes… You feel it in the way he kisses you.
Ever the perfectionist, Albert Wesker is far from finished with you.
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ta3baee · 20 hours
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Jungkook with a chubby girlfriend Pt.2 !
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Pairing : Idol!Jungkook x Chubby!Fem!Reader
Warnings : Nsfw headcanons after the sfw, I will include a cut and another warning though.
Mona’s notes : Edited & proofread by my wife. Minors dni! I’m not responsible for what you consume on the internet. Part one here! Reblogs are very much appreciated <3
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SFW !
• He’s the type to take your insta pictures for you and hype the fuck out of you, I’m talking “Yes mama!”+ “mhmmm look at those hips”+ “those curves my god” + “that’s my sexy lady” and so much more.
• Literally lives for your stomach pudge and your fupa?? Yup, he’s crazy for it.
• He knows you so fucking well that it’d take him just one single look to know how you’re feeling. If he catches you double checking yourself in the mirror with your hand slyly pulling down your shirt to cover yourself, he’d be up on his feet immediately and listing all the beautiful things about you, aka everything.
• We all know he’s basically a gym rat, and what’s a better trope than gym rat bf x chubby gf?? Absolutely nothing. He’d look so big and buff beside you it’d make you feel tiny and protected.
• When you’re out with him and get some looks from both men and women, he’d just stare at them and make them uncomfortable with a hand wrapped around your waist, holding your tummy (that’s how big his hands are).
• He adores it when he sees you cooking in the kitchen wearing a tank top, shorts, and no bra. You’d be minding your own business, and he’d just come up behind you and grab a boob or both and fiddle with it, other times he’d grab your tummy and squish it while whispering good morning and sweet nothings in your ear.
• During his late night lives, he’d go on and on about you, talking about a very simple feature of you in such beautiful detail; it could be a dimple or a specific stretch mark, he’s smitten.
• Imagine him sleepily blabbing about you;
• “my girlfriend is the best”
• “I’m gonna marry her and make her my queen- she’s already my queen, but an upgrade-not that she needs an upgrade”
• lmao, you get it.
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Nsfw below, do not proceed if it’s not to your liking
or if you’re a minor !
NSFW !
• A lil nsfw version of him taking your pics; “You’re making me so hard” + “What if I were to just bend you over right now?”.
• When your looking at yourself in the mirror, he’d come up behind you, hold your tum tum, and whisper dirty shit into ur ear all while he makes you hold eye contact with him.
• When he takes consensual pictures/videos of you riding him, his hand would either be holding your hip or grabbing a handful of your ass.
• Considering the proven fact that Namjoon loves thick girlies, Jungkook would - with your consent send him some of the videos of you riding him and throwing it back at him just to see Joon literally fall apart. He can look, but he can’t touch.
• On that note, when Jungkook has you over, he’d make sure to tap that ass extra hard so you’d be louder, and his bandmates would be forced to listen to you and suffer with their own boners…If only Jungkook would let them hit it…If only.
• This man is filthy rich, so prepare yourself to be spoiled to the max. New sets of lingerie every fucking day, if he can’t choose between two, he’ll buy you both… and an extra one.
• That hot portrait on his wall? That’s you and him; he’s shameless when it comes to you and doesn’t even bother hiding it when he’s on live. He’d simply do anything to show you off, even if it means getting in trouble with management.
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honeybcj · 3 days
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I’m so dysphoric about my chest rn
I’m currently not in a relationship but I would be so dysphoric/insecure about sex and showing my body to another person
So could you write maybe some fluffy jegulus smut? :)
my precious nonnie <3 i completely understand where you are coming from. it’s definitely a very difficult thing to work through and live with. i wish i had all the right words to say to just make everything feel good and comfy. i know i’m just a person behind a screen, but know that you have my full support and love, yeah? i’d adore to write a little jeggy fluffy smut. hopefully this can bring you some joy today (sorry it took so long to get to!)
“Jamie,” Regulus breathes out, back arching up off the bed.
Early morning sunlight fills the bedroom with a soft yellow glow. Piled around the two of them are warm sheets, cradling their bodies with delicacy. It’s been a slow morning—one of their favorite things to indulge in. A morning full of soft touches and longing looks, tentative kisses and gentle whispers of love and admiration.
At some point, James made himself comfortable between Regulus’ legs, situating himself just right to be able to lean down and graze his lips down Regulus’ chest. Regulus’ curls fall like a halo around his head on the pillow beneath him, every inch of his skin burning just from James’ touch alone.
Regulus doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He’s found the person that loves him for who he is—no qualms or questions about it. James sees him for the man he is, loving every piece of Regulus that he offers up. And Regulus does give all of himself to James, for James shines like the sun, leaving Regulus to bask in plentiful warmth and comfort.
Each kiss along Regulus’ chest only darkens his cheeks more, eyes wide with adoration. He lifts his head, watching carefully as James trails kisses along the healed scars on his chest. He’s cautious, attentive to how Regulus’ body reacts. A shudder here, a soft whine there. It aches Regulus ache all the more; James has loved him before his surgery, during, and after.
“Baby,” Regulus whimpers, carding a hand through James’ hair.
Blissed out, James looks up at him with benevolent eyes, hair sticking up at all odd ends from hours of sleep and lazing about all morning. His lips curl up into the fondest smile, brightening up his entire face. The look alone makes Regulus melt into a puddle, heart hammering inside his chest to the beat of love, love, love.
“Hi, my love,” James whispers, slipping a hand beneath the sheets.
It’s already too much and not enough. James’ hand slips lower, caressing the soft skin of Regulus’ thigh, letting out a breathy laugh as the hair tickles his fingertips. Regulus is feeling a little impatient, hips moving on their own accord to seek out James’ hand—his touch.
“Be patient, baby. I’ve got you,” James murmurs as his hand slinks closer to Regulus’ cunt, his touch becoming more purposeful.
Fingers slip beneath the material of Regulus’ shorts, delving past his underwear. Skilled they brush through coarse curls just barely getting to where Regulus is desperate for it.
“It’s—it’s hard,” Regulus huffs, poking out his lower lip which makes James grin. He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to Regulus’ mouth.
“God, you are so beautiful,” is all James says before slipping a finger through Regulus’ slick folds.
Regulus can’t even formulate a response, too overcome by pleasure and emotion. His lips part, yearning gaze falling right on James’. And there it is—the James Potter smile.
It’s like time stops for a moment, just so they can remember this exact feeling. Eyes boring lovingly into one another’s, bodies aligned. Each time James brushes over his clit, another soft moan escapes Regulus’ mouth. The tender caress turns into one finger, then two, fucking Regulus unhurriedly, even as Regulus pushes his hips down for more.
James’ thumb works in tandem, stroking over Regulus’ clit each time he thrusts his fingers. All Regulus can think is, this is the life I deserve, this is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.
A building crescendo, nearly falling over the edge. Regulus’ vision goes hazy, a mix of pleasure and unshed tears. James, always in tune, catches Regulus’ shift, quickening his ministrations. And there it is—enough to send Regulus out of orbit.
When Regulus finally comes to, he’s wrapped in James’ arms, in a clean pair of pants, while James traces slow circles on his shoulder. Right there, in that moment, Regulus has never felt more at peace.
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roselise · 10 months
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“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13) ♡
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ezraphobicsoup · 6 months
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music(als) (screaming)
falsettos specifically (screaming louder)
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hopecomesbacktolife · 7 months
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where’s that one post (maybe a tweet from a few years ago? I’m not sure) that’s like
“women if you ever feel down about yourself or your appearance as you age just remember that somewhere out there a 20-something lesbian is getting heart palpitations at the thought of kissing your hand”
because like my god it’s so true
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#I would kill my ex ‘p’ to become rich.#I would kill my ex ‘m’ to obtain even more beauty and attract even more people.#I would beat up my ex ‘b’ to the point of him almost dying to have a nice house and the best of the best of things.#I would beat up my bf ‘d’ to be more mentally stable so that I am balanced and at peace with myself and my life.#I would kill my ex ‘k’ to become a well known scholar who has many degrees in maths science and philosophy and to preform surgery&research#I would step on anybody to get to where I want to be in life if it meant making myself happy.#I just manipulated my bf into feeling bad for me because I genuinely just want to feel good and secure even if that’s at his expense.#he’s right.. I don’t care about anyone more than myself and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. why should I put someone above myself?#I’ll tell you what.. until someone can show me that being a good honest generous person can get me anywhere I’ll keep doing what works :)#grey god#puppets#and I genuinely just don’t like or care for others. there’s always something I want in return when it comes to relationships with others.#I find humans disgusting and faulty and I don’t care if I add to their pain because it’s usually to benefit me and if it doesn’t it’s to-#-get back at others for hurting me. or I’m bored. I probably have the most sick and twisted mind of anyone I know. I think people know that#-tho but they still keep me around and help me out whenever I need it. it’s all a show for me and for them. people are so stupid and they#-genuinely think doing the right think helps them. it doesn’t. it’s kind of sad. I just know that once ‘d’ realizes I’ve taken him for -#-everything he’s got it’ll be too late and he’ll have to deal with how much better I am than him and how much I’ve grown leeching off of-#-his emotional labor. I just jump from one person to another taking what I want and what I can. I don’t think I’ve genuinely loved anyone.#I’ve always been this way. I almost love people but then I just truly don’t. it’s more fun to see how far I can break them before#-they can’t do it anymore. I hope that everyone I’ve ever hurt continues to hurt forever and that they never grown or evolve.#’d’ told me tonight that I ruined his life. ‘b’ told me I ruined him. ‘m’ is a coward and he said he’ll never love again.#’k’ is a used up simple minded loser. ‘p’ is a stunted delusion addict with me issues for the rest of his life. notice I said me issues and#not daddy or mommy issues lol. I have tricked them all. they are all pathetic and whimpy fucks.#the day I grinded against ‘d’s sluty ass again after I ‘raped him’ he told me to go slow but it made me think.. what if I just raped him?#I could just do it and he won’t do shit about it. he’ll forgive me like always. he’s an insecure loser. I wanted to just take my dick-#and shove it down his throat and then ruin his hole with it#but I didn’t. I respected what he said but the fact that I thought about it isn’t good.
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that-house · 4 months
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Potion Vendor FAQs:
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.
Do you sell love potions? No.
Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.
Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.
Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.
Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.
So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.
Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.
Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.
Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.
Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.
Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.
Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.
So can you make poison potions? No.
Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.
Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.
How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.
You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.
Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.
Road trip? He lives in Seattle.
Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.
For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.
And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.
Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.
Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.
You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.
So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.
Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.
Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.
Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.
What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.
You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.
Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.
Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.
Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.
Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.
Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.
Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.
When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.
When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.
Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.
Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.
Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.
Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.
I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.
How did you know that? …I’m psychic.
Yeah? No.
You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.
Did you just miss a turn? Probably.
Are you sure we’re not lost? No.
You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.
Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.
Would it help if I said it was? It would.
Is it getting dark? Soon.
Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.
Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.
Should we find a motel? Sure.
One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.
You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.
Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.
Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.
How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.
How many beds are there? One.
Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.
Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.
How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.
Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.
For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.
Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.
Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.
Are you asleep? …
Yes? …
Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …
What should I say? …
Did you know that I had a really nice day? …
Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …
Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …
Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …
Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …
Did you know that you’re warm? …
Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.
Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.
Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.
What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!
Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.
You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!
Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.
Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.
You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.
Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.
Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.
How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.
Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.
150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.
Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.
And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!
Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.
And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.
So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.
So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!
Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.
Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.
Are you done eating? Yep.
Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.
How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.
Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.
Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.
What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.
Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.
Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…
Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.
Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?
When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.
Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.
What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.
Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.
What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.
Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.
Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.
What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.
I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …
Did he get his body modified? …
What sort of surgery could do that? …
How is he still alive? …
Did a fucking wizard do it? …
WHY? …
HOW? …
Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …
I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.
Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.
Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.
Can we do that? Of course.
Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.
Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.
Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.
Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.
How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.
How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.
That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.
Wanna fuck? God yes.
Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.
…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.
How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.
How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!
Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.
When will we get there? Noon-ish.
Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.
Is this Seattle? Looks like it.
Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.
Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.
So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.
Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.
So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!
How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.
Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.
Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.
Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!
Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!
Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.
I just caught this, but, FAQ? …
As in Frequently Asked Questions? …
How many times is Frequent? …
Have you known everything all along? …
How many times have you done this? …
Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!
And you say that every time? Yes. I do.
Do you love me? Yes.
How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.
Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.
Can I go now? Please don’t.
But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.
How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.
What happens at the end of this? It begins again.
And do I get replaced with someone else? …
Do I get replaced? …Yes.
Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!
You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.
How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?
Did you know my name is Alice? …
Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …
Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …
Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!
Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.
Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.
Be good to the next me, okay? I will.
Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.
Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.
What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.
What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!
What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.
Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.
What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.
What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!
So I should keep repeating something? Yes!
I love you? I love you too.
I love you? Again.
I love you? Keep going.
I love you? I’ll just let you talk.
I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!
I love you? Now can you make it a statement?
I love you.
You did it?
I did it!
You did it!
We broke the loop.
What now?
Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.
And then?
Whatever we want, forever.
I think I’d like that.
Remember that song from the beginning?
The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?
We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?
Let me off, let me in
Let others battle
We don’t need to battle
And we both shall win
Pressed in my palm
Was a stone from the beach
The perfect circle
Gave a moment of peace
Now I’m lying on the floor
Like I’m not worth a chair
I close my eyes and imagine
I’m not there.
9K notes · View notes
books-and-omens · 9 months
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Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.
Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much. 
As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.
And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.
Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.
And just—
Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.
But the ball is still different.
We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)
I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?
In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).
And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning. 
In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.
There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.
GOD the ball is so dark.
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biboomerangboi · 2 months
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Hua Cheng essentially cockblocking himself for possibly all of eternity will literally never not be the funniest thing MXTX ever wrote.
Xie Lian was pretty much completely in love with him the second he saw those lanterns (and completely oblivious about it) and then we get the wonderful first kiss underwater moment and Xie Lian is basically drawing hearts around Hua Cheng every time he sees him. While like quietly dying cause he literally has no idea what to do with it. Like at this point he doesn’t even really understand that he is head over heels totally gone for this man.
Until Hua Cheng is like I have a beloved I just haven’t won them over yet. Which he thinks is perfectly reasonable because his self esteem is the worst and he doesn’t understand how he could have won Xie Lian over yet. (He’s only on step 22 of his Marrying Dianxia 3000 step Master Plan ((that he debates throwing out on a regular basis because he doesn’t deserve to even dream about wanting Xie Lian)). So course he’s like yeah I have this wonderful noble beautiful beloved I just haven’t won them over yet wink wink nudge nudge.
But Xie Lian is like oh of course obviously I don’t deserve nice things and fuck I actually wanted him so badly I’m actually in love with him and now I will resign myself to never being happy for his sake. (Their combined self esteem is truly a so low it’s a hole in the ground which is hilarious because they think the other person is to good for them and unattainable forever because they literally have the same neurosis.) So he starts boxing up his feelings forever constantly wanting Hua Cheng and feeling guilty about it and literally dying inside because he wants Hua Cheng like he’s never wanted anyone.
Like essentially books 3 and 5 only happen because Hua Cheng has now cursed them both by saying he has a beloved because Xie Lian believes he isn’t wanted and therefore any nice thing Hua Cheng does is just him being nice and not Hua Cheng pulling out steps 23-34 of his plan thinking he still hasn’t won Xie Lian over. (He has he so has but he shot himself in the foot so badly it’s painful to read).
Like thank the Gods Hua Cheng is so unhinged and created the cave of 10000 Gods cause Xie Lian would literally be at his own wedding to Hua Cheng still convinced he wanted someone else and this was in fact a thing they were doing to solve a case together otherwise.
Like he needed something that unhinged to put 2 and 2 together otherwise he never would have caught on he’s Hua Cheng’s beloved. Meanwhile Hua cheng is like 🥺 he’s going to think I’m a weirdo now and I’m only on step 50 of the plan 🥺 like the two of them wouldn’t have been fucking nasty 2 books ago if he just kept his mouth shut and didn’t cockblock himself so violently.
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iluvzaddies · 8 months
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⊹˚₊ zoro being in love with you ₊˚⊹
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— roronoa zoro, a former pirate hunter turned pirate, is a very reserved guy.
— when he meets you, he starts to open up more, smile more and laugh more.
— whenever sanji flirts with you, he becomes jealous and possessive. he glares at him from afar all the while yearning for you. he yearns for your attention to be directed at only him, no other man.
— then he realizes he has feelings for you. romantic feelings, as a matter o’ fact.
— but it is difficult for him to admit his feelings. he is very new to the concept of love and doesn’t know what to do, unlike sanji.
— zoro is 100% sure he is better than sanji in all aspects, but he isn’t confident when it comes picking up women, which sanji is a pro at.
— no way in hell will he ever ask the perverted love cook for advice, so he asks nami instead.
— according to nami, women like compliments, flowers, gifts, a candle lit dinner with a beautiful setting, basically all the typical romantic gestures.
— with that, zoro begins to court you.
— and he does exactly what nami told him.
— day 1: he randomly compliments you on your looks and whatever you do.
— day 2: he gives you flowers. not a big fancy bouquet of roses, but a few flowers he plucked from a forest tied together with a string.
— day 3: he buys you something with what money he has from logue town and gives it to you as a gift.
— day 4: he prepares a secret candle lit dinner for you with food he cooked himself as your dinner and the beautiful setting being the deck of the going merry, overlooking the ocean. the ship almost catches on fire due to the candle accidentally falling on top of spilt alcohol.
— you appreciated the thought and effort he put into the whole thing, even though the ship almost burnt to a crisp.
— on the 5th day, he finally confesses.
— and you also confess. in truth, you have had feelings for him as well, so it isn’t one-sided.
— hearing your confession, zoro is surprised, to say the least.
— nevertheless, he is glad you return his feelings. zoro doesn’t believe in god, but he thanks god for it.
— he presses his lips onto yours and kisses you.
— everyone catches sight of you and zoro kissing. you can hear nami and ussop cheering for you, luffy’s asexual ass being confused as ever and sanji fuming.
— after he kisses you, he gives you a toothy smile. a smile that you adore.
— you smile back, happy and content.
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weskie · 2 days
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Perfectionist (Albert Wesker x amab!Reader)
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18+ | this man deserves to hump the bed, oral sex (reader receiving), amab anatomy gn!reader, afab version here | Fic Directory
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Particular.  Methodical. Precise.
Starved.
All words fit to describe the way Wesker handles you.  Even now, even with his face buried between your legs, he works with such intense mindfulness.  Every swipe of his tongue, each bruising nibble to your thighs or heady suckle to the head of your swollen cock is done with the sole intention of bringing you the most pleasure possible.  
Wesker is a perfectionist, and you are the canvas upon which he will paint.  He will carve the beauty of your bliss into this world one swipe at a time, for hours on end if he must. Even in the midst of such a primal deed, he is nothing but grace– until he isn’t.  Until you catch, by sheer luck, the sight of his hips grinding down against the bed.  Just once. 
Just one little slip of his self control.
But how fucking euphoric to know you push him to such extremes.  That the mere taste of your nectar can unravel his unyielding poise is enough to undo you.  With your hands in his hair, gripping, tugging, voice squeaking and pleading, you feel the lightning strike of your release burst through you.  It tingles into your limbs, down your spine.  You arch and squirm, but he holds you in place effortlessly.
He always does.
And he doesn’t stop…  
He laps at your through all of it, fist pumping come from your aching shaft to feed his insatiable appetite.  His little sounds aren’t lost on you.  The heavy, panted breaths; the little moan here or there; that one particularly drawn out hum of delight when your thighs clamped tight around his head.  
You peer from under heavy eyelids when you feel his lips at your thighs once again, peppering soft kisses as you come down from your release– waiting, wanting more.  To your surprise, his gaze is anything but soft– so unlike his actions.  You find him staring with determined, voracious eyes– red as ever, boring deep into you.  The juxtaposition ignites the strangest blendings of anticipation and adoration.  He’s promising you silently and loudly all at once: you belong to him. 
You are his down to the molecular level and beyond– to the little building blocks of each and every atom in your body. He has made his claim.
It’s not long before you’re ready to go again.  He knows just how to get you there.
The fingers gripping you continue their motions and his tongue swirls the head of your cock so perfectly that you just can’t help it when your eyes roll back.  Wesker is silent as he works you to madness, basking in the trembling, nuzzling against the inside of your thigh to feel and watch each and every reaction as he strokes you.  
You can see him faltering again.  So subtle, but you catch the way his hips move. Poor thing. His pants must feel so tight by now… 
You wish he wasn’t so damn dignified all the time.  If he’d only accept that he was allowed the simple pleasures, that he could let go of some of that pride and hump the bed like any normal man.  God, you’d fucking love to see it.  Even just that little gyration was enough to make you twitch in his grasp.
You can see in his eyes that he’s doing everything in his power to resist it.  
You use your grip in his hair to push him to swallow you.  His lips curl in a smirk as they near the base and you wish more than anything that you could kiss that damned look off his face.  
“Mm, god!” You mewl, knowing full well what such an exclamation means to him. Not a plea to a higher power, no… 
That title is his. 
“So, so good…” you gasp, pushing up to seek the engulfing heat of his throat.  He’s so fucking good at this…
 Through the haze, you see it happen again. The smallest arch of his back, the lightest rocking of his hips. 
Is that what he needs? 
“That's– that's it!” 
Again. 
“Al… oh god!” 
Let him know how good he’s doing.
You resist biting back a moan, just to further test the waters. You let those little whimpers sing freely, let his name fall from your lips and your hands tug and pull at his hair. You even dig one of your heels into his back, and then you hear it. 
Nearly silent, Wesker's choking moan reverberates around your cock, making you shiver in delight. The sound dances to your ears, more beautiful than any melody to ever grace the world. He draws back up for a brief second, taking several calculated breaths before going right back down.
Your fingers curl tighter in his locks, pressing him closer. With your back arched and feet braced, you fuck into the warmth of his mouth. His hands grip and bite into your thighs as if, by some measure, to remind you that it’s only by his good graces that you’re allowed to use him so wantonly. That anybody else would be dead for even entertaining the mere idea of having him perform such an act.  
You’re special, and you best remember it.
Another weak noise quivers against your length, and you find it in yourself to fight off the tendrils of release seeping through every fiber of your being just to watch him take you.
“I love it!” You gasp, perhaps just a little too breathily.  “L-Love you!”
Which, of course, earns you that reaction you so desperately want.  This time your treat is two sharp rocks of his hips and the unmistakable creak of the bedframe protesting against his strength.
You’re playing such a dangerous game with him.  What if you get what you want, hm?  What if you make the man-made god come in his pants?  What then?
Surely there will be consequences for pushing him into such a position.  Perhaps he’ll make you lick him clean.  No, no… that’s hardly a punishment.  What if he threw you over his knee?
Also not quite the worst case scenario.
So you sing for him.  With every little breath, you vocalize how good it feels, how good he feels, until suddenly those subtle grinds against the bed are anything but and he’s practically growling around you.  
His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed, tongue swirling around every inch as he bobs his head, tip striking his throat– and he humps against the bed as though the panopticon of his pride had never been there at all to observe such a desperate act unbecoming of a god.
The sight sends you hurtling over the edge, back rising from the bed as you pull him down hard to bury your length deep in his throat, spilling thick and warm just for him.  His name falls from your lips over and over like a prayer, and by the time your back hits the bed once more you hear and feel him finding his own release as he thrusts away at nothing.
The thought alone of what just happened is enough to make you see stars…
You pet through his hair affectionately, cooing praise until those piercing eyes crack open and stare lazily through the haze.  He pants next to your still-twitching length to recover himself, spit glistening at the tip of his nose, strings of it still clinging to your cock from the edges of his mouth– too invested in painting his masterpiece to realize he’d become part of it.
Eventually though, you manage to get him to crawl back up.  You thumb away at the mess, utterly hypnotized when he grabs your wrist and sucks your digit clean. You can see it in his eyes… You can feel it in the way he kisses you after.
Ever the perfectionist, Albert Wesker is far from finished with you.
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
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how would the 141 and König react if they accidentally walked in on reader changing?
Ooh meOW I love this! 😉
tw: slight NSFW/suggestive themes
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
If you’re in a relationship, he’ll get comfortable and lean against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed one over the other. You’ve got your back to him as you’re getting ready for the day,
He’s watching you silently, watching your every movement, eyes tracking the gorgeous curves of your body, hypnotized by the curve of your ass as you lean down to pull your shorts up your legs. You start pulling your shirt over your head but you’re quickly stopped by the warm strong hands you love so much
“Not ready for the show to end.” He’s pulling you flush against him, your back against his chest as his hands glide up the smooth skin of your torso, stopping to rest gently on your throat tilting your head to the side, kissing along the column of your neck
“Si, we’ve got a lot to do today.” You whined, eyeing the pile of laundry in the corner,
“Name one thing that’s worth me stopping what I’m doing, and I’ll stop.”
You couldn’t come up with a single thing
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
This little shit (with your consent obvs) is intentionally avoiding announcing himself. You’re getting ready for your date and this mf tiptoes into your room and leans against the wall, watching you carefully.
God he could never get used to how fucking beautiful you are, the curves of your waist, your long beautiful legs, your pretty hands, dear lord you take his breath away, he can’t sit still just watching you
You’ve got your back turned to him and before you know it you feel his warm hands running down your waist, over your hips, his kissing the nape of your neck.
“Johnny, we’ll be late for our reservation.” You giggle,
“I’ve got more pressing matters to attend to.” He’s nipping the skin of your throat, turning you around to kiss the life out of you
(Spoiler alert: you missed your res and wound up ordering in)
John Price:
A true gentleman, it doesn’t matter if you’ve just gotten together or been in a relationship for years, he’ll apologize and look away, cheeks and tips of his ears a bright shade of red
Correction. He’ll make a show of looking away, but he’s peeking out of the corner of his eye if you’re changing and still facing him
But if you’ve got your back to him, sweetheart he is drinking that view up. He’s breathing evenly through his nose to keep from crossing the room in two long strides and devouring you
It’s like I said, he’s a gentleman and a patient man. He knows damn well he’ll have more time to savor you after your dinner date. He doesn’t have much a sweet tooth, so he doesn’t care for deserts.
But the best and sweetest part of his evening will be peeling that gorgeous outfit off of you, and swallowing all the pretty noises you’ll make for him.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
He loves poking fun at you, he knows you’re changing, but when he wakes in he acts startled, shocked that he’s caught you in such a vulnerable position! Why didn’t you warn him?
He always makes you laugh, you throw the shirt you were about to put on at his head and he dodges with ease
“Actually I need that, can you toss it back to me?”
“Hm. I’ll think about it.” He teased, walking over to you and bringing you in close by the loops of your jeans, “Quite like you like this though.”
“Oh yeah? So when we’re at dinner you’d be fine with me out there like this?” You giggled, lower lip pulled between your teeth as you smile at him widely,
“Who says we need to go anywhere, babe? Could eat at home.” You playfully smacked his arm,
“Nothing could possibly compare to the meal I’ve got in front of me.”
As you looked at him through hooded eyes, you realized you felt the same.
König:
He always gets flustered, doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, he’s beet red and covering his eyes or pointedly looking up at the ceiling.
BUT! If you catch him in a particularly touchy mood, he gets a little brave and sits down on the bed to watch you.
“Getting in bed already? I thought we were watching that new show tonight.” You teased looking over your shoulder, you pulled your pajama pants up your long beautiful legs, and turned to grab the tshirt you set aside when you came out of your shower
He grabbed the shirt before you were able to successfully reach it and set it down beside him,
“I might prefer a different show this evening, schatz.” His voice dipped into the range that told you his intentions,
“W-what kind of show?” It always caught you off guard seeing him like this, always stirred the heat in your gut and between your legs,
He laid down on your shared bed, his legs out stretched in front of him, and he tapped one of his muscular thighs,
“Why don’t you come here and find out, maus?”
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irndad · 1 month
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here I lay me down - s.r.
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a/n: ex!spencer gets shot, and you show up at the hospital to see if he's okay. spencer is still desperately in love with you. based on this post wc: 2.3k (she is LONG)
Spencer wakes to a cacophony of sounds, others breathing and various beeps and hums from a variety of medical machines. He hates the noise of the hospital, as he knows what always follows. It’s pain, and ever since he kicked dilaudid, he doesn’t get the relief that people are always pushing on him here. 
The last thing Spencer remembers, he was in front of Morgan, who was about to get shot- it was a piercing memory, one that even the anesthetic wearing off slowly couldn’t numb. He’d jumped in front of it, and the pieces of Morgan pacing around his room and the whole being in a hospital thing click into place. 
When he blinks his eyes open, he sees Hotch speaking to the doctor with his endearingly concerned eyebrow scrunch and it’s then that he notices a familiar scent in the air. 
It’s perfume- he knows because he’d bought it- a mixture of jasmine and lilies, and the memory of the night he gave it to her bursts into technicolor when he closes his eyes. It had been her birthday, and he’d gone with Penelope and Emily to pick out a gift for her. 
He remembers how she’d lit up, her warm doe eyes brightening with fondness that he’d earned, and the way his heart had flipped in his chest- the memory is in crisp detail. He remembers the way she’d kissed him, equal measure in thanks and in adoration, and it’s comforting to remember right now. He tries to think of her often, especially when waves of pain crash over him like an unruly ocean that threatens to drown him. There was someone who loved him at one point, he tries to remember. 
He wants to compliment the nurse wearing it, but even as limited as his social skills are in this state, he knows that telling the nurse you like her perfume because your ex wore it is probably inappropriate. 
A roar of desire presents itself in his chest- he has no desire to want her here, but Spencer can’t help but fantasize about her presence. Her nimble fingers running through his hair, her soft voice cooing at his injuries. It was always nice to come home to her after a rough day- her disposition warm and kind and good. It’s his fault he doesn’t have it- his fault that she doesn’t love him anymore. 
It’s as if he conjured her, when she walks in the door. 
He literally cannot believe that she is here, in his hospital room- he drinks in the sight of her like a man starved. She’s beautiful- he’d never forget this but it’s been so long since he’s seen her. The curve of her cheek, her cupid’s bow, the slope of her neck- the details he spent the best year of his life memorizing under careful touch. 
Her body language is protective, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other at her mouth, her delicate fingers holding a tissue. Had she been crying?
Before he can think of what to say to her, she speaks to him. 
“How are you feeling?”
He’d forgotten just how her voice sounded. Or rather, how it sounded when she was concerned for him. It’s addicting, hedonistic in the ways of wine and drugs and everything else you should have in moderation but had to give up. It’s just so comforting, her lovely doe eyes looking at him with warmth and concern. 
“Hey,” he replies, not answering her question. He might be imagining her. They might have given him drugs. There’s no way she came and see him of her own volition. 
She pauses for a moment, biting her lip in an incredibly endearing way (and god, he’d missed looking at her) before she makes the decision to walk over to the side of his bed. He tries to crane his neck to look at her and she scolds him, and this doesn’t make any sense. 
“You got shot,” she says, voice warm and concerned, and if he squinted he could hear love in her voice. 
“I’m okay,” he tries to reply. 
“You got shot,” she says, eyes flaring with emotion. She always hated that he minimized his pain. 
“You came,” he says, after a beat of silence. Her fingers are running through his hair and he tries to commit this to memory. It doesn’t mean she loves him. She’s the kind of person who stops on the street to give someone the last dollar in her wallet, of course she would visit her ex-boyfriend in the hospital after he got shot.
It doesn’t mean anything. 
“Of course I came, Spence,” she says, intentionality in her tone, “You got hurt.”
It’s selfish to lean into her touch, but she smells like home and he doesn’t know if he will ever be held like this again by her. And he doesn’t care to be held by anyone else. 
Hotch comes in, and if he’s surprised to see the two of them together, it doesn’t show on his face. He tells Spencer that the. Bullet had been clean through, and that he’d been lucky. He’d avoided internal bleeding and would need to stay at home for a week. 
When Hotch leaves to ‘give him some space to process’, the silence lingers.
“Thank you for coming.”
It’s kind of worse, actually. The reality where she’s still his girlfriend is superimposed on top of this one, and he can feel the ghost of the kisses she’d pepper his cheeks with. If she still loved him, then she’d hug him and tell him that she loves him, tell him how angry she is for jumping in front of a stray bullet. 
It’s my fault, he thinks to himself, eyes raking over her. She’d definitely been crying, he realizes. Her makeup had run and he think she might have slept here. How had he ever gotten someone like her to fall in love with him? 
It’s his fault she doesn’t love him anymore.
When the doctor tells him that he needs someone to stay with him for the next few days, and she volunteers, he agrees.
It’s a nice kind of pain, he thinks. Any piece of her is more than he wants of anything else.
_______________________________________
It turns out that she is a wonderful caregiver. 
Penelope had been incredibly supportive of this idea, somehow convinced that the proximity would bring them back together. This is a hope that Spencer does not engage in, but still- it’s nice to have her around. 
She knows her way around his apartment- knows how he organizes her things. Half her things used to be there too. 
Memory is a funny thing. The worst part by far of eidetic memory is the lack of forgetting, and up until now, this was best seen in the horrors of his work. Now, it’s all her.
Taking care of him when he got shot is not the same thing as loving him. 
When she makes them dinner (which is so kind of her- he offered to buy takeout and she’d insisted on recreating his mother’s soup recipe. She’d kept a copy of it in her phone. Spencer had almost died of flattery), she sits next to him on his couch
It’s funny how the best memories of his life are so colored now- their trip to Europe, their first kiss, the first time he’d cooked her dinner and she’d watched Doctor Who with him. Ghosts of memory linger through the place, and it hurts to see her sit next to him on the couch with a foot between them. 
“Thank you for being here,” he says after a beat of silence. She looks beautiful, and he always thinks this. She’s wearing his t-shirt which is just an awfully tempting view. 
It’s his fault he can’t have what he wants. 
“I told you I still wanted us to be friends,” she says, looking down at her bowl, “You’re my friend. I’m happy to do this.”
He can tell she means it as an olive branch but it cuts like a knife. Because he never wanted to be her friend. She was the first thing he even wanted enough to ask for it. He still remembers when he’d asked her out the first time, the stuttering and the way she’d looked, how impossible her liking him back had felt. 
And then he’d managed to make her fall in love with him. It didn’t even take much- he just had to be himself, the way she says it, and he’d give anything to have that back. 
“You’re a good friend,” he replies, instead of everything he’s thinking. 
“Hotch thinks so,” she muses, not looking at him, “He was surprised I’d come here after you broke up with me.”
It’s a slight lash out, and it’s fair. It’s not fair that she’s here, wearing his fucking t-shirt, her collarbones exposed under the fabric. He know what her skin feels like under his lips, and now she make veiled comment on his couch. 
“Why did you?”
He can’t figure it out. They’d broken up two months ago. He’d done it to protect her- after the anthrax case he’d been fucking fixated on her getting hurt. Because this is the stuff he can’t protect her from. Can’t help if biomedical hazards end up on his clothes,  and if he comes home shot. 
He got shot. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t get forever with the woman he loves, because he can’t keep her safe. Even if he quit just then- enough people have made an enemy of him. She’d never be safe.
So he made a choice to cut his ties and let her go, and yes, every fucking night since he’s had at least one nightmare about what she looks like crying and asking him to stay. He never, ever wanted to see her like that, but he also never ever wanted her to be a widow. 
She’d find someone else. She’s so easy to love- he doesn’t like to think about someone else loving her, but he’s sure she won’t be alone. 
His voice catches in his throat.
“It is nice of you,” Spencer chokes out, “I never wanted you to have to do that.”
“Let’s not talk about this now,” she says, getting up to get him another serving, and he grabs her wrist.
“Ba- Hey, please. Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” she says at him, but she doesn’t pull her wrist back. 
“I just-“ he stammers, but it’s heavy and something he can’t give up, the combination of her gaze under his and her soft skin in his grasp, “I can’t have you here and hate me. I just can’t take you hating me. I know- I know what I did. I know it’s not fair to ask and I know that we’re not together and I know it’s my fault but god, you can’t hate me. I can’t take it.”
“You think I hate you?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“You think I came to the hospital in the middle of the night, slept in a waiting room, cooked you soup and slept on your couch because I hate you?”
He doesn’t know what to say. How could she still love him? 
“It’s you,” he replies. “You’d always do that for me.”
She’s closer now, moving into his space more and more and he can smell his own body soap on her because she showered here, and he’s overcome with a desire to hold her. 
“Why do you think that is?”
She’s almost in his lap now, and there’s a greed to this now, the way he pulls her a little bit closer. She tips her head back in a bitter, tinny laugh that he doesn’t like the sound of. 
“I mean, Spencer- I love you so much that I don’t even care if you love me back.”
“You still love me?”
“I’m working on it,” she says, a bitter smile on her face, “You’re hard to get over.”
“Don’t get over me.”
It’s not the smoothest thing he could’ve sid, and he kind of regrets the implication on her face, sees her gorgeous features crumple. 
“That’s mean, Spence.” 
“No! No. Don’t. Don’t-don’t do that. Don’t move on with your life and find someone else because this is the lightest I’ve felt in fucking weeks.”
Her eyes widen into saucers, and her grip tightens on his hands, and Spencer feels like he could fly. 
“I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have made you go and I should’ve let you be the person who picks me up at the hospital and I know, I know how lucky I am that you’re still here, that you cared enough. Please, please don’t get over me. I know it’s not far to ask.”
She blinks a few times at him before opening her arms for a hug, of which he flies into at breakneck speed. His ribs hurt but he’d forgotten what it was like to hold her. And yes, maybe wanting this makes himself selfish, but he wants this. Maybe this can the one thing he lets himself have. 
“I do love you. ” he speaks into her collarbone, and she shushes him. 
“No, no,” he says, looking up at her, her gorgeous doe eyes shaky with uncertainty he knows is his fault, “If you’ll still have me, I’d like to-I’d like to try again. And I know that you probably can’t trust me and I have so much to make up for and-“
“Spencer,” she says warmly, twining their fingers, “I’d like to kiss you now. Okay?”
He nods a bit fervently, shaking as he does, but when she kisses him-
It’s just as he remembers. She leans into him, her delicate fingers cupping his jaw and he wraps his spindles arms around the curve of her waist, pinning her to him like she might float away if untethered. 
When Spencer gets back to the office, he it’s not just his wounds that have healed. 
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chosocutegf · 1 month
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husband!Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
cw: smut
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husband!Miguel who rents a whole private beach and a beachfront villa just for you two to finally have your well deserved vacation. He makes sure you have all the comforts you might need, and that the whole thing matches your tastes.
husband!Miguel who doesn’t even give you the time to put down your luggages that he immediately picks you up and takes you to first flat surface so he can make love to you. He is so pent up from work that he can’t help the desire surging through his veins, especially when he sees you in that little sundress.
husband!Miguel who goes around wearing short sleeved shirts and shorts. Most of the times he doesn’t even button up his shirts, letting you see his toned abs under it, and the happy trail that disappears in his pants. He enjoys catching you staring at him and making you blush.
husband!Miguel who made sure to buy you all sort of bikinis before leaving so that he could admire you with them on. However, he wasn’t really expecting his cock to be hard all the time at the sight of the little straps clinging to your body, the material barely covering your nipples and cunt, leaving the rest of your skin exposed to his hungry eyes.
husband!Miguel who sulks and follows you around like a puppy when you forbid him to touch you, because for the first days you didn’t even had the time to step on the beach that he was already pouncing on you.
“Por favor, mi amor,” (please, my love) he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind and brushing his nose against your neck before leaving a kiss there. You ignore him as you continue to apply sunscreen on your arms, “Lo siento, cariño, but you look so good in your bikinis… you can’t blame a husband who is madly in love with his wife, can you?” (i’m sorry, sweetheart..)
husband!Miguel who is quick to scoop you up in his arms the moment you give up, slap your ass and fuck you nice and slow. He just loves you so much and you make him feel like a horny teenager every time he sees you walking around in those flimsy clothes.
husband!Miguel who takes you snorkeling because he wants to see the beauty of the ocean with you. And he makes it difficult for you when he comes out wearing one of those tight black dry suits, accentuating every muscle of his body and making his broad shoulders and tiny waist stand out more. You gasp when he turns around and you see how good his butt looks in it.
husband!Miguel who holds your hand, everywhere and anywhere. He wants to feel you close, especially when you two go around to explore the local markets, or attend traditional dance performances. If he doesn’t have a hand holding yours, he has an arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist, but rest assured that he is always touching you.
husband!Miguel who wants to take walks on the shore with you, holding you close. He likes them even more when the sun is down, the stars and moon are shining over your heads, and you two talk softly to each other. Those are the moments when Miguel is most vulnerable with you. He loves to see how the moonlight shines over your features, making you look like a goddess and he can’t help but wonder how he got so lucky to have found you.
husband!Miguel that one day decides to rent a boat to take you around. The sun shone on his tanned skin, making him look like a greek god. He was wearing his sunglasses, his wet hair were slicked back as he stood there, driving and looking sexy. You couldn’t help but snap a few pictures of him looking like that.
husband!Miguel who on the other hand, had difficulty looking away from you lying on the bow of the boat. Your wet skin glistening under the sun, and your little bikini doing nothing to cover your plump curves. He could see your perked nipples poking under the thin material, and it was making his cock throb in his swimsuit.
“Okay, now jump,” Miguel tells you, looking at you with a little grin while you stand at the edge of the boat, looking down at the clear waters. You glance back at him with a pout before resting your hands on your hips, “no, you go first,” you mumble.
Miguel’s rich and low laugh rings in your ears before you feel the boat slightly swaying to one side and the other as he approaches you. He brought the two of you in the middle of ocean, away from the shore, and as you looked down at the deep waters, you couldn’t help being a little nervous. “Vale, mamí,” (all right) he says, kissing your forehead and swatting your ass before jumping with his arms straight over his head.
You cringe as the boat sways and you observe Miguel resurfacing above the waters. He shakes the water from his hair, before looking up at you with a grin, “c’mon, cariño, you can do it”. Soon after, you find yourself gripping him tightly in the waters, looking at him and chuckling as he stays afloat and holds you above him.
husband!Miguel who buys you as many piña colada as you want when you go to a local bar. He makes sure to hold you close to him while you dance around him, drink in hand, and smiling widely. He is fascinated by you until you decide to grind your ass against his middle, your short dress really making it hard for him to resist you. When he can’t hold back anymore, he takes you back to the villa and makes sure to fuck the brattiness out of you.
husband!Miguel who wakes up one day and you aren’t in bed. He can’t help the panic that surges in him, and he is quick to stand up to search around the house while calling out your name. However, his nerves immediately relax when he looks out the wide window facing the beach and he sees you sunbathing at the shore.
He makes his way out of the villa, his eyes widening when he sees you sunbathing. Naked. The waves gently hit your body, making you look like an ocean nymph. He groans and reaches down to adjust his cock in his boxers, feeling himself already getting hard. “Mamí,” he calls you, stopping when he is close enough to let his eyes roam down your body, “¿Que haces?” (what are you doing?). You pry your eyes open under your sunglasses, smiling when you see your husband towering over you, “sunbathing,” you tell him.
He kneels down next to you, his finger tracing down your stomach and making you shiver while his gaze is fixed on your perky nipples, “you had me worried when I didn’t see you in bed…,” he murmurs, and you notice how his voice deepens and his eyes look down your body, “sorry, Mig, didn’t want to”.
He clicks his tongue and doesn’t say anything as he pries your legs open, swearing under his breath when he sees your glistening cunt, and positions himself between your legs. He is quick to dive in your pretty pussy, not caring about the waves hitting his back. He stays there until he is sure you’re properly satisfied.
husband!Miguel who starts to hide your bikinis from that moment on. If you have to swim, you’ll do it naked, so that he can catch a glimpse of your little cunt when you dive in the ocean. He will start to swim naked too after you complain that you don’t want to be the only one naked.
husband!Miguel who loves to make you angry when you are laying down on a towel, and he crawls on top of you, water dripping down his body and hair, wetting you. You scream at him and try to push him away but he is stronger and starts to pepper kisses all over your face, pressing his body down against yours. Then he makes love to you because he can’t hold back when his wife is laying under him so prettily.
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I love Miguel so much, IT HURTS
probably gonna write more about this, let me know your thoughts (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚
(m.list)
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