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#I FORGOT HOW TO DEAL WITH THE FEELS SEND HELP
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Feelings (5)
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Hi guys!
New chapter for this Serie, I hope you'll like it too :) Don't be shy about telling what you think about it, or asking if you want to have something special in it. I had a request from here for this one, so I hope it will be ok like this :)
Please enjoy ♥
TW : Suggestive, sex talk (?)
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4
Saying goodbye to Alessia was hard, but you didn’t have the choice. You knew since the start of all this that it would happen, but that doesn’t mean it was making things easier.
You find your apartment like you left it, your friend Sofia came several times to ventilate it and take care of your olive tree. That you renamed Olivio, with all the imagination that is yours. The only thing that changed, is that there is no Alma laying on your couch like she was used to do when you were away. You always hided your keys under your doormat for her to come, but you asked Sofia to take it away for now. You still have things belonging to Alma in here though.
You send them to her by the post before going to your first training session. Your Spanish teammates look at you with friendly compassion when your arrived and you realize that you almost forgot that you lost a finale several days before. Alessia made you forget.
You find your habits really quickly, even if Laia Codina or Jenni are not part of the team anymore. But Ona being one to replace them, you’re pretty sure that Lucy isn’t too mad. You still have to talk to her about Alessia though, you knew that she went on holidays with Ona and didn’t want to bother her. And you teased her so much about Ona that you’re sure she won’t miss to tease you back for now.
Cata Coll is one of your closest friends here and it’s with her that you appear for the first time back on Fc Barcelona Feminin’s Instagram. The training was lighter the first days, but you soon go back to the real session.
“So. You and Less?” asks Lucy one afternoon where you are at her flat after the training.
“Yes?” you answer innocently.
You were playing against each other at Fifa on Playstation, Lucy’s actually crushing you with Manchester City. You’re still trying to figure how she can be good at everything.
“How did you get together?”
“What tell you that we are together?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because you were making out in the plane when I came back to ask if I can borrow your earphones?”
Sitting on the other couch while scrolling on her phone, Ona can’t help but snort. You don’t mind her being here while you’re talking about your love life. You like her and she’s your mate’s girlfriend. You better get along and for now it’s working great. You smile too, to be fair, even if you blush lightly.
“We didn’t put a label on it, so I don’t know if I can call her my girlfriend” you answer, frowning softly.
It was the truth, even if you both said that you won’t go for someone else. You really hope that no one will catch Alessia’s eyes at Arsenal or even London. She’s starting again in a new environment; she doesn’t know everyone for now. You trust her obviously, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t lose interest in you.
“We did that at first too” Lucy answers. “Long-distance was hard, but really worth it if you’re meant to be.”
You hum, missing the complicit smile between Ona and Lucy. You sigh when Lucy scores another goal just before the end of the game. With a disgusted air, you let the controller fall on the couch.
“I’ve never been in a long-distance relationship before. It’s strange, to be honest, not being able to take the girl you like on date or something.”
“It is” Lucy smiles, patting your knee softly. “If you need advice or only talking, you can come to me. Or Mariona, she’s dealing with it for longer that I was.”
You nod. You somehow forgot that Mariona is dating Alessia’s teammate. Maybe you can take planes together sometimes, you think with irony.
“And Alma?” Lucy asks.
“Never heard from her again. I send her the things she left in my apartment and that’s all.”
********
You took the habits to call Alessia every night. She’s usually cooking her diner and put her phone against one of her kitchen walls to be able to cook while talking to you. You can really look at her for hours doing it. You only regret not being able to stick against her while she cuts some vegetables.
“What do you like to eat?” Alessia asks you that night.
You were silently observing her, lost in your contemplation.
“Oh uh… It depends” you shrug. “I’m not really difficult, I mean I think?”
Alessia laughs softly.
“I cooked for Leah two days ago, it was entertaining” the blonde says.
You smirk, knowing exactly what it could have been. You never met anyone as picky as Leah when it comes from food. You can guess her choice when you go to restaurant with her, it’s always the simplest dish.
“Why do you ask anyway?” you ask Alessia.
She looks genuinely surprise by your question, stopping to cut her carrots to look at you better.
“Don’t you come next week to London?”
“Yes?”
“Well I want to cook for you, obviously. We chose to get delivered almost at every meal we share when we stayed at home, but I really want to cook for you.”
“Ok” you smile softy. “Only if you let me take you on a proper date.”
“Is that even a deal?” Alessia smiles at you.
You feel your heart beating faster and God, how did you survive when she smiled at you that way in front of you?
Several days later, you were leaving training in hurry. You have two hours to go to the airport after your session and you came with your suitcase to go for it straight after your shower.
“Why are you in such hurry?” Jana asks from her cubby.
“She’s going to her girlfrieeeend” Cata sings from her spot.
“Girlfriend?”
Keira’s voice came from the other side of the room, and you flinch. Right, you didn’t talk to Keira about your new relationship. For your defense, you were thinking that Leah would. You grimace to Cata, grabs your suitcase and go for the exit.
“Say Alessia I say hi” Lucy shouts before getting hit by Ona on her arm.
“Alessia?”
You giggle when you hear the surprise in Keira’s voice but don’t take the time to answer, too scared to miss your plane. You jump in the taxi waiting for you and went for the airport.
It’s only when your luggage are taking care by the company that you take your phone off of your pocket. You wanted at first to write to Alessia to let her know that you were on your way, but you have some messages from Keira too.
Keira 🥠 Alessia??? Like in Alessia Russo? You better answer me right now, Kid.
You Who’s Alessia Russo?
Keira 🥠 You little shit. Bring back some Scones.
During the two hours and twenty-one minutes of the trip, you slept. You went to bed late this week, not being able to hang up with Alessia, even if you knew that you would see her today.
You are alert when you arrive in London, by dint of traveling from this airport, you know it by heart. There is an hour of time difference with Spain, so you feel like you have only left Spain for an hour and a half. The sandwich you snacked while waiting for your suitcase will allow you to wait until you arrive at Alessia’s, who promised to cook for you tonight. You know that you have at least one hour to go to Alessia’s house, London traffic jam being awful.
You were taping on your phone for an Uber when a voice next to you make you jump out of your skin.
“Hi stranger!”
You jump, turning around only to be face with the mischievous face of your gi… Alessia. She was supposed to be at London, not at the airport. You might look stupid when you look at her with wide eyes and your mouth slightly open. It made Alessia giggles, and you feel your stomach make a jump at the sound.
“Lessi? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I have a great visitor coming to mine this weekend, so I decided to come to take her home.”
“No, I mean…”
“I know what you mean” Alessia laughs before kissing your cheek. “I changed my media hours with Kyra to be here at the right time.”
“Oh.”
You blush and let Alessia takes your suitcase. You then follow her to the parking lot, slaloming between people. You want to take Alessia’s hand in yours, but you don’t want to make her uneasy. There are a lot of people here.
You are happy to be sitting on the passenger’s seat of her car, who is definitely more comfortable than your seat on the plane. You can’t stop to look at her and just because she’s just next to you right now, you softly stroke her cheek before taking her hand in yours.
“I missed you” you mumble when she looks at you.
She is driving and you should have taken the opportunity to kiss her before you left the parking, but you maybe will have plenty of time to do it at her home.
“I missed you too” Alessia smiles.
She asks about your trip; you ask her about her day and finally the journey for her house isn’t so long. Even if there are a lot of people on the road at this time of the day.
“Leah wants to meet you during your stay” Alessia said at one time during the trip. “I told her not today because you will be tired, but maybe tomorrow morning? She can come to have a brunch or something before the game?”
“It sounds nice” you smile, not mentioning that only seeing her is enough for you.
Alessia had a game tomorrow afternoon, but it let you all tonight, all day after the game and all the next day too. You will leave on Monday morning very early to be at training in the morning. And you are determined to enjoy it the most possible.
You are happy to find Alessia’s house too, looking around you, you notice that some things as changed since you came the last time. She added some decorations. Alessia showed you during one of your FaceTime, but it’s different like this. You just have the time to look at the picture she took in Australia during the World Cup, before you feel her arms around you.
“I didn’t have my hello kiss.”
You smile, putting your hand on her arms.
“That’s a shame. It needs to be fixed.”
“It does.”
You turn around in her arms, passing both of yours around her neck. You take the time to look at her properly, her eyes, her freckles, and her smile, before leaning in to kiss her. You can’t explain how much you missed that feeling. Alessia sighs against you and you get even closer to her, melting in her embrace.
“That’s better” Alessia smiles after the kiss.
She then kisses your nose, your forehead, both of your cheeks and finish on your lips again.
“Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap while I’m cooking?”
“Like I’m going to sleep instead of being with you.” you snort.
Alessia rolls her eyes but takes you by your hand anyway. She made you sit on a stool at the central island of her kitchen with a mug of tea. You listen to her, Alessia making almost all the conversation, but it’s always like this between you. You love to hear her talking, trying to remember every little thing she says to you.
Your eyes are going sometimes on her bum, you have to admit. But if she notices, she doesn’t say anything. You proposed to help her two times, but she refused, saying that you can help tomorrow. You will.
Her lasagna is amazing.
“It’s my Nona’s recipe” Alessia smiles when you compliment her.
You made the dishes for her, ignoring her protests, and end up cuddle with her on her couch in front of some film she chooses. But you don’t even try to look at it, you are way more interested about your girlfriend than Blake Lively fighting for her life. You try hard not to bother her too much, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing her cheek, her hair or playing with her fingers.
But Alessia doesn’t seem to mind, actually she has a small smile on her face every time you look at her.
“I missed your smell” Alessia mumbles after another kiss.
You smile, because you said yourself the same things a lot of time during the time you were at Barcelona. And you promised yourself that you will take one of her hoodies when you will leave.
You stroke the skin of her neck with your nose before kissing it several times. But then she softly bites your ear, and you feel your body being swept by electric currents. The sensations are hard to ignore.
They are so hard to ignore that you found yourself with your girlfriend, both naked, some hours later, laying in her bed. Alessia is laying on her back while you are on her belly. One of her hands is playing with your hair and you are trying hard not to fall asleep already.
“Can I ask you something?” Alessia whispers “But you have to promise not to mock me.”
“Of course you can Sweetheart. I won’t make fun of you, promise.”
You turn your head on her to have a better look at her and even if the light of her bedside lamp isn’t strong, you can see that she had blush. You watch her bite her lip and fight the want to bite at it, too. You need to stay focused; you are curious about what is in her mind.
“So… As you know, you are my first girl experiment” she begins waiting for you to hum before talking again. “Well to know how to do things right, I made some research and…”
“You made research?” you ask with a smile.
But Alessia frowns, slapping you softly on your arm.
“Babe, you promised!”
“I’m not making fun of you” you swear, still smiling. “I find it cute.”
Alessia groans and you giggle softly, moving a little on her to be able to kiss her cheek. She’s hot under your lips, attesting of your girlfriend’s blush. She smiles though and clear her throat nervously before talking again.
“So, like I was saying, I made some research and I saw that there is a lot of things to use when two women are, you know, having sex?”
“Yes?” you only say, not wanting to interrupt her again.
“It made me wonder if maybe you like to use them? And if what we’re making is annoying for you. And then I thought that maybe I should buy some of them, but I didn’t know which one you like, or you want?”
She stops talking, a little out of breath. She talked quickly though and that might explain that. She seems nervous so you take her hand in yours to try to sooth her a little bit.
“Ok, first, what kind of things did you see?”
Alessia blushes violently and you can’t help but smile again.
“Alessia Russo, did you watch porn?” you laugh.
“No!” she shouts, sitting up in the bed. “I went to website selling toys, I didn’t watch adult’s movies.”
You roll your eyes, asking yourself how a girl you just have sex with can be so shy about something like that. But that’s the innocent part of Alessia talking maybe. And you love it as much as you love every other part of her. You sat too when she sat up and you take support on her knees to lean on her and kiss her.
“Ok first of all, what we are doing is absolutely perfect to me. It’s special because it’s you and I love every second of it, every time even more.”
You are close to admit how much she affects you, but it’s not exactly admitting that you are in love with her for years. You want to reassure her anyway; you had your first time with someone before and you don’t want Alessia to feel insecure. Or worst, not enough.
It seems to work because she is smiling again, and you can’t resist to the want to kiss her again.
“But if you want to try some things together, we can do it too. Or if you miss something –“
“No” she cuts you, shaking her head. “I don’t miss anything I swear.”
She’s blushing again but you feel like she’s telling you the truth. When she talks again, she’s mumbling, looking at her fingers.
“It’s just that I never felt that way before and I want you to feel as good as I am.”
You could literally melt right now. You take a big breath, drawing her attention on you again.
“Lessi, you have no idea how good you make me feel. Really.”
She seems skeptical though, looking at you attentively. That girl will be the death of you.
“But I’m not experimented like the other girls you slept with” she points, frowning. “How can it be as good as you say?”
“I told you. Because it’s you.”
She looks at you for several seconds before smiling shyly, and you are smiling back. You are touched that she had this process and how much your well-being count for her. You sometimes struggle to realize that after all those years you are Alessia Russo’s… things. You really had to talk about it at some point, but the talk you’re having tonight is maybe enough for now.
“Do you want to buy some things though?” Alessia asks. “You didn’t answer about you having anything, but I don’t really want to use something you already… Well, you know.”
“I understand” you smile softly. “We’ll look together, ok?”
Laying down on the bed again, you take her in your arms this time, kissing her softly. She seems to be relaxed now and you let yourself go against Alessia’s mattress. You love sleeping here. Everything smells Alessia.
“By the way, please don’t tell Leah what we’ve done tonight. We’re not supposed to do something physically tiring the night before games.” Alessia smirks several minutes after, making you laugh.
********
You need a little bit of conviction to get up from the bed and your girlfriend embrace the day after. You are still a bit tired and it’s only the idea of Leah coming to find you both in bed because you are late that makes you get up.
“You are late” Leah grumble when you arrive with Alessia.
“Sorry, sleepyhead here had trouble getting up” Alessia smirks.
“I’m on the Spanish schedule, it’s not my fault” you yawn.
Leah don’t have time to grumble one more time, because the waitress came soon after to give you the menu to chose what to eat. You study it with seriousness, your stomach feeling a little bit empty.
“The usual Less?” the waitress asks to Alessia.
You frown, looking at your girlfriend who nod and give her menu back. Leah passes her command after her and you have to fight the strange feeling you have to ask what you want too. Leah seems to have forget about your delay when the waitress left, but you still have that mix of jealousy and discomfort. Alessia never hide what she does during her day, and she told you several time that she went to brunch or eat breakfast with some of her teammates, but you never imagined that there will be a pretty brunette who seems to know your girlfriend’s order by heart.
“I’m talking to you, Sleepy” Leah says, kicking you under the table.
“Wow, way to hurt your opponent?” you grumble while Leah rolls her eyes. “What was it again?”
“Keira. She asks me to remember to bring her Scones.”
“Oh” you smirk softly, remembering what happened in the locker room yesterday. “She told you that she knows about Alessia and I?”
You explain to Alessia yesterday what happened, and she’s smiling too. She didn’t look sad or hurt that you kind of forgot to talk about it to Keira.
“She told me she discovered because your teammates can’t keep their mouths shut” Leah smirk.
“It was Lucy to be fair.”
Leah rolls her eyes one more time while Alessia laughs, but your smile is quickly faded when the waitress is back. She once again turns in Alessia’s direction with a big smile at first, before giving Leah’s plate then yours. You don’t like the way she looks at your girlfriend or even how she smiles at her.
Your eyebrows are still frown when you look at your plate and suddenly the bacon in it doesn’t seems as yummy as it should. Being already concerned by your changing mood, Alessia discreetly take your hand in hers while Leah is concentrated in her plate.
“What’s up?” Alessia whispers.
“Nothing” you say, forcing a smile.
But that doesn’t work. Alessia frowns, looking deeply into your eyes.
“Communication, remember?”
You sigh softly. She’s right, you promised each other to always talk to the other is something is wrong. But you don’t want to do it here.
“Later, ok?”
Alessia nods, but she doesn’t let go of your hand and relax only when you start to eat. The food is delicious to be honest and you understand why Alessia keep coming here. You don’t know what you will say to her about your feelings, you feel bad at the idea of depriving her from this menu.
When you’re finish, you went right to the stadium. You follow Leah in the parking lot and then follow Alessia who introduces you to the different places and people who punctuate her training sessions. You meet almost all of her teammates too, even if you know some of them already. Like Laia Codina, who you know because she was at Barcelona and that you are happy to see again or Beth Mead with who you play for England.
You already know Lia or Jen because of Leah and you are kind of relax around the team. When they need to get training, Alessia goes with you to the friend and family section, holding your hand.
“So, what happened during the breakfast?” Alessia asks.
You sigh softly. You have forgotten that you were supposed to talk to your girlfriend about this. You look at her and she’s already looking at you, concern in her soft baby blue eyes.
“It’s nothing, it’s just… that girl from the Café? The waitress?” Alessia nods, so you continue. “She was looking at you like you are the most beautiful thing in the world and she’s right because you are, but it makes me realize that she can see you every morning if she wants to and I can’t. And that made me miss you, which is probably stupid because you were sitting right next to me, but…”
You shrug, not knowing how to end your sentence. But Alessia nods once again, seeming to understand what you were meaning. Which is already relieving at your eyes. She squeezes your hand softly before answering.
“It’s not stupid at all, I understand the feeling. I miss to have you next to me in the morning and falling asleep against you at night. I miss you almost every second of the day. But we chose to give us a chance and we knew what it would be. I’m sure it’s worth it.”
You feel your heart fluttered once again and you look around you to be sure that no one is near you, before taking her tight in your arms. She holds you as tight as you are doing, and it help you to feel better.
“I have nothing to worry about, right?” you whisper with your chin on her shoulder.
“Nothing.”
She backs her head to have a look at you and she’s smiling softly. You trust her, of course you do. She’s like the sweetest and the gentlest human being. And then she kisses you, not long but softly.
When Alessia left you in the family and friend section, you go to look for your seat, but you are soon spotted by Amanda, Leah’s mom. She waves at you and makes sign for you to come to her, which you do because no one can refuse anything to Leah’s mum.
“Hi darling!” she says happily when you are at her level. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Oh, uh…” you mumble while she hugs you.
“Leah told me why you’re here, but don’t worry your secret is safe with me.”
She smiles at you, taping your cheek in a motherly way before making you sit next to her. You recognize next to her Leah’s nan, who you salute too. Amanda looks at your shirt, raising an eyebrow.
“Not wearing an Arsenal jersey?”
“Alexia would probably kill me if I do something like this” you laugh. “Maybe she would make an exception for Alessia’s, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Why that? Everyone seems to think that Less and you are good friends.”
Amanda seems to know what happened in the social media, with the video of you going to recomfort Alessia after the finale in Australia. Everyone said how much you are a good friend, choosing to make your friend’s feelings better rather than being focused on yours.
“I’ll think about it for the next time” you promise.
“Great. In the meantime, wear this.”
Without letting you the time to look at what it exactly was, Amanda put one Arsenal scarf on your shoulders. Leah’s face is print on it, and if you don’t see at least one twitt or one TikTok editing you with your friend, it would be a miracle.
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seilon · 9 months
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boy I haven’t been this dysphoric in literally years! how cool
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nezuscribe · 11 months
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𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨
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pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader
summary: he’s just too pretty for somebody so stoic. thankfully he’s able to show off for you, knowing just how much you like it. he’s just so easy on the eyes
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, teasing from miguel, not proofread so sorry for any typos 
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there’s just something irresistible about miguel o’hara. he knows it. it’s a fact so sure as day that a part of his own hidden cockiness comes from the fact that he feels the eyes travel across the large span of his body, taking in his sheer size as they dart away when he catches them staring. 
but despite the fact that his enormous ego (and his even bigger attitude) derive from some of this attention, there’s really only one person who he cares for to seal the deal. 
you were so nice to him, a large smile greeting him whenever he came into work. it was off putting at first; how somebody could be so cheerful in the morning when everybody seemed to move as though awoken from the dead. 
but slowly you warmed up to him, and he doesn’t know why, but he knows that he treats you differently than the rest of them. 
his words were softer when they were directed at you, a rare and honestly almost non-existent smile on his face whenever you told him about what you had planned for the rest of his week with such excitement that he almost forgot what his job was. 
and he’d be lying if he didn’t say that the way you looked up at him with so much admiration and care in your eyes didn’t do anything to him. he’d also be a blind man if the way you gnawed on your lip, cheeks puffing out in jealously when one of the assistants blatantly flirted with him didn’t send blood rushing straight to his dick.
so it was no surprise that “meetings” in his office became more and more frequent, his paperwork skewed to the side as he made room for you on his desk, your legs wrapping around his waist as you hungrily kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks (it’s been days since you last saw him).
“missed you,” you murmured against his skin, tugging his suit down as he made quick work at throwing your blouse to the side, expertly opening up your bra clasp with one hand as he moved back up to press a sloppy and wet kiss to your lips, nodding feverishly in agreement.
it didn’t take long for him to tug your pants and underwear off, groaning at the slick that connected to your panties, the smell almost knocking him to his knees as you waited (somewhat impatiently given your stance) for him to do what he wanted with you.
“f-fuck,” you whimper into his skin, tears filling up your waterline as he slowly and in a calculated manner drags his arms down your torso, his claws drawing out goosebumps in their wake, “hurry up.” you groan, impatient at the obvious way he’s edging you. 
he flashes you his fangs in a faux debonair smile, a strand of his hair falling into his face as he looks up at you, his large hands holding your mound are you writhe in pure need. 
“needy much?” he muttered, pressing hot kisses just above your clit, where he knows it’s going to drive you crazy, “my pretty girl’s already too dumbed out to answer, hm? haven’t even done much yet sweetheart, y’know?” he mutters, his fingers making obscene sounds as they slowly enter in you with much ease, seeing how you were already dripping seeing him in that ridiculously tight suit. 
you watch him from under your lashes, your mouth watering at the sight in front of you. 
he cocked a brow, noticing just how much you were watching him, more than usual, and he smugly grinned as your nose scrunched up in annoyance and embarrassment, throwing an arm across your face to hide from his heated gaze. 
“can i help you hermosa?” he traveled upward with a small tap on your clit, moving his fingers to grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards to meet his eyes, blown out in sheer need and want for you as his nose bumps against yours. 
“pretty,” you murmured against his lips, feeling the plushness of them against your own as your hands moved up to feel the large expanse of muscle, your nails raking down his skin, leaving light marks in a sort of territorial manner, “so handsome miguel.” you say, and although others have said the same thing, it only mattered when it came from your mouth.
he chuckled, pecking your lips as he moved slightly downward, angling your jaw up with his nose as he found purchase on your neck, inhaling in your scent as he almost went delirious. 
“you butter me up too much sweetheart, ‘specially when you’re lookin’ like this in front of me.” he murmurs, a bit in awe and never getting tired of this as he pumps himself a little bit, too amped up to wait that much longer.
sweet, you always smelled so fucking sweet.
he made haste at biting and sucking, your whines only going straight to his hard cock, making it ache in leak in pre as he marked up your chest, tits, rolling your nipples between his shark teeth as you moaned out pathetically for him. 
he was gorgeous like this; his lips swollen and red, cheeks pink as eyes estranged as he marked you all for himself. he was always like this after a mission, no matter how well it went. all that pent up frustration and adrenaline would be directed to you, and you had absolutely no qualms with that. 
his fingers found your fluttering walls and found them even wetter than before, knowing you too needed him just as bad as he needed you, and he waisted not a second more as he lined his angry tip with your pretty pussy, moaning like he was in heat at the feeling, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last that long in you, especially after not seeing you for as many days as he was gone. 
“i’m ready m-miguel, just please fuck me, p-please.” you whisper, your hands finding his dick as you guided him in, the two of you moaning and throwing your heads back in pleasure as he begins to sink into your warmth. 
“my girl,” he says, his thumb finding your swollen clit as he rubs, picking up his pace after a few seconds of letting you adjust to his size, “my girl.” he says again, but his grip tightens on your hip at his possessive tone. he missed you just as much as you missed him, and he needed for you to know that even if he’s not the best with words. 
his dick rubs along your walls, dragging in and out at the most delicious pace, hitting that spot that makes your walls tighten around him and your legs to wrap around his waist to pull him in even more. 
there was no space in between you two, your heavy and hot breaths hitting each other as you feverishly kiss him again, needing to be connected with him in every way possible, moaning against his lips as he angles himself just right to hit your sweet spot in an even better way. 
“s’good, so good, mhh fuck!” you whine, nails digging into his shoulder, your lips catching between his sharp teeth, piercing the soft skin just enough to draw a little blood, and he grins at the sight. 
“you’re doin’ great babe, perfect for me, god,” his voice is rough, raspy as he feels his release coming at such speed, “you’re mine, need so much.” he mutters and you nod, throwing your head back in clear pleasure, letting him lick a strip up your neck, his pace quickening as the two of you reach your highs. 
he pulls out just in time, finishing in spurts across your chest, and you spasm, missing his dick as you clutch onto his biceps to steady yourself, back arching at the feeling that nobody else but him could give you. 
your chests move in synch, trying to catch your breaths as sweat dots your forehead, coming back from your high as you smile at him, feeling a swell of pride knowing that he only lets you see him in such a debauched way. 
“i’ll have lyla clear my schedule for the day,” he tells himself, glancing over at you as he pulls you closer to his chest as he runs his finger to your lips, grinning at how pliant you are, letting him drop a wad of spit onto your tongue, waiting for his next words as he moves his finger down, tapping your chin to close, “need to show you just how much i missed you.”
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breannasfluff · 6 months
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Fanfiction Comments: Why Bother?
Genuine question: If ya’ll like a story, why not comment?
This question, born out of previous discussions and Discord chats, is one writers have been dealing with for a long time. Feedback/reblogs on art tends to be more common than on fics. Yet writers continue to beg for comments on stories. So what's stopping people?
Don't know what to say/an emoji/script feels too impersonal
Forgot to comment
Read everything and how do you pick out one part?
Rather give feedback personally
Feels like an expectation/I owe them
Send me a string of emojis? I love it. Send a single heart? I love it. Keyboard smash? I love it. Copy/paste a "thank you for writing"? I still love it. "I don't know what to comment or how to put my feelings into words." Then put that! That's a compliment! Can't think of anything to say, then "I don't know what to write but asgfdhgf I liked it." is fine!
Seriously, I don't care WHAT you put, because it shows me you cared enough to take a few second to show that love. I recognize and look for my regular commenters, even the ones who leave just a heart or "extra kudos".
Forgot to comment? Leave the fic open on your phone or get in the habit of dropping SOMETHING right as you finish. If you had time to make it through the last 100 words, you can probably tap an emoji. It's likely more of a habit to build up than anything.
Read it in one go and it's all a blur? "I read this all in one go and it's a blur, but I loved it!" We don't need specifics; just tell us you loved it on the chapter you stopped on. That in itself is a compliment because Hey! You loved it so much you had to keep reading!
Personal feedback? Well, I'll never say no to friends gushing about stories to me! And it might not be the same for everyone, but if you stop commenting on AO3 and only tell me personally...my assumption is you don't like it enough to say it publicly. I've spent many a time wondering why people stopped giving that support and what I should do better. If it's a friend, try asking them which they prefer! We can go back and reread (and do!) AO3 comments. Much harder on discord/dms/etc.
Owing authors? Look, we put a lot of time and work into writing and providing content for free. Hours of idea planning, actual writing, editing, catering to requests, etc. My partner once said I have a second job, writing, but I don't get paid. If you read and enjoyed something that someone put a lot of work into, it's nice to take a few seconds and tell them that.
You don't owe authors comments. They also don't owe you free writing. Sometimes, you forget there is an author at all when you're reading. But there is. A real person put out a story hoping you'd love it, or connect to it. You'd see yourself in the writing and feel less alone, or cheered up when you have a bad day.
Writing is art, and all we want to do is connect with you. Comments help bridge that gap.
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imninahchan · 3 months
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⌜ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: strangers to lovers, my poor spanish skills, casual and unprotected sex [you can't do that, c'mon!], readerʼs a brazilian woman, some portuguese words, dirty talk, age difference, finger sucking, male oral, manhandling, light pussy spanking, ʽpapiʼ, dumbification, dacryphilia. ˚ ☽ ˚.⋆ ⌝
꒰ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹ʼ𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ꒱ sooo never thought about posting something in eng but @femmechaotic (thx baby) showed me her translation and i gave it a second chance. This was originally written by me in portuguese, thatʼs why the reader is brazilian. Eng is not our first language, sorry for any mistakes, just posting for the fun of it♡
𓍢ִ໋🀦 HE'S THE KIND OF MAN YOU'LL ONLY MEET ONCE IN A LIFETIME ─────
You realized this from the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time. Sitting a couple of tables away from his, on the balcony of the hotel lobby.
You simply couldn't help but notice it: the thick strands of dark hair, how his hands run through it, as the gentle morning wind blowed. The basic white tank top, a coat hanging over the chair next to him at the table. His big and pointed nose, his eyes hidden mysteriously behind the lenses of the fancy sunglasses.
He's definitely not Brazilian. You could tell just by the food he chose from the buffet on his plate. Youʼre just so genuinely intrigued by the whole set of ongoings, obsessed with watching him, that you forgot about your own — boring — breakfast. The buns were cooling next to the black coffee in the porcelain cup.
You wanted to open the messaging app on your phone and send a sassy comment to your best friend, saying something like: “omg u won't believe how cute is the guy i just saw”, but you didn't even have time for that. The man raises his chin, with his attention shifting from the phone device in his hands to noticing your presence ahead.
You look down immediately, feeling as if you had committed a crime and you've just been caught in the act. You bite your lip, trying to hold down a childish smile, like a vicious little girl. Your palms starts sweating; suddenly cold. The intention was to keep yourself busy with the porcelain cup in the short meantime, trying to deal with the awkward sensation of being caught.
Itʼs not working, of course. You didn't know whether to drink or not, sometimes you try to sip the hot liquid, but you give up halfway through, lost like a robot in a breakdown. And when he raises his eyes once more, in the same direction as you looked for so long, the man's gaze meet yours again.
It feels, apparently, like youʼre going to faint, to actually die, Jesus! You've never felt so embarrassed in your entire life and you insist on thinking about how you're never gonna be able to eat, think or breathe while being in this crime scene — also known as the balcony of the hotel lobby.
“Get up, then!”, you think to yourself. You pick up on a couple of the cold buns from the plate, taking a sip of the — now cold — coffee, and walking towards the lobby. Like, damn, youʼre not even dressed up, maybe the clothes are not so bad but you donʼt even have any makeup on or hair done the way you liked it so much (and did it religiously every day).
But there is an actual explanation for you not being ready. The plan, initially, was just having breakfast and enjoying the view for a short period of time, so you could visit the downtown in Madrid afterwards. Now, you are running away like a criminal, with your mouth full of bread heading towards the elevator.
When you finally thought that the closing of the gray automatic doors would mean freedom, your heart has one more reason to flutter, as soon as the man steps into the cubicle before he could lose the sight of you.
You decide to chew more quickly, hiding the other roll of bun between your hands. Standing next to you, he takes off his pair of glasses, holding his coat and a crossbody bag.
He looks at you.
— Enzo — he says, and from the way he announced his name, you can tell by his accent that he speak Spanish. You swipe the back of your hand over your mouth, wiping away any remaining crumbs.
— Oi... hmm — You stammer the response in Portuguese, automatically panicking again for a few seconds when realizing that your brain couldn't think of a greeting, even in your first language. After some quick struggles, you tell him your name.
— ¿Eres de aquí? ¿de Madrid? (Are you from here? From Madrid?)
— Ahm... — You stutter, again (unfortunately). — Brasil!
He smiles.
— Ah, sí. Brasil... ¡Es un lugar magnífico! (Oh, yes. Brasil... It's a wonderful place!) — and praises. But his gaze turns sharp, he needs to know: “Entiendes lo que digo, ¿no?” (Do you understand what I say, right?)
— Sí, sí! (Yeah, yes!) — you return with a wide smile back at him, almost hyperventilating.
Your desperation is pathetically noticeable, itʼs cute actually. He watched you, smiles softly, almost like a chuckle. The curiosity gets into your nerves, you wanted to ask more questions, extend the conversation, but the elevator reaches your floor, and you leave, too withdrawn to say anything.
“Shit”, you curse at yourself, it wasn't so difficult to have a decent small talk, you should've said something, anything. You brood all day long, thinking you're such a dummy for missing the opportunity. Why did you have to act like a stupid teenager, huh? Then, after what happened, not even the museums — that you were so excited to visit — were fun anymore, no place in this goddamn city could take away that little thread of regret from you.
In the next day, however, you go down for some coffee at the same time as you did the other day, with the foolish intention of trying to see him again, and thatʼs it, it worked; like a freaking miracle. The man was sitting in an armchair in the lobby, it seemed like he was waiting for you too, what were the odds?
You can even feel your legs wobble.
— ¡Buenos días! (Good morning!) — he greets you. — ¿Cómo se dice ‘Buenos días’ en Brasil? (How do you say ‘Good morning’ in Portuguese?)
It takes a few seconds for you to think and say it back, ‘Bom dia’ (Good morning), you respond. He smiles.
— Es muy parecido (It's pretty similar) — he comments, awkwardly. Then, looks at the buffet, “¿Vamos?” (Shall we?)
Although he sometimes used terms that you completely donʼt know the meaning of and have to ask him to explain again, the conversation is, apparently, going very well. You discover that he is older, Uruguayan, and not Spanish as you immediately thought he was. You tell him a little about the country you come from, and he gets enchanted by the way your accent pronounces his name. Enzo. Paying attention to the ʽzʼ sound, unlike the pronunciation in Spanish.
it was with his company that you explored the city. The both of you went to a small square together, had some ice cream, met tourists hotspots, then chatted while exploring a little shop nearby. You hated to admit it but the situation was indeed romantic. Later in the afternoon, you were taken by him to a bar.
There, the conversation extended even further, including the beer you guys shared. When you didn't understand anything he said, (what was quite often in the conversation) you just laughed, your cheeks getting really hot and red from smiling that much. Honestly, you could leave him talking to himself for hours, just because you loved the husky sound of his deep voice and his pair of brown sparkling eyes.
It didn't mean that you were in love or anything, right? Besides, there was no way you could fall in love in such a short period of time.
But the heat you felt emanating from your own body definitely meant something. It could be because of the dark blue button-down shirt — these pieces never fail to be attractive, right? —, or the silver ring that caught your eyes every time he articulated with his hands in the air. Even his perfume... ah, the perfume! A fragrance that filled your lungs, woody but with a slight sweet note. Projecting all day long, torturing, practically inviting you to bury your face in the curve of the moreno's neck.
At nighttime, he takes you back to the hotel: his excuse was that he wanted to help you with the shopping bags, as if you had bought all of Madrid. And it was supposed to end there, at your hotel room door, simple as that. He hands you your things, and the most he does is lean over, slowly, as if he is silently asking for permission, and so, he places a small kiss on the corner of your mouth, millimeters away from touching your lipstick-painted lips. But you hold his hand, before the man walks away down the hall, you donʼt let him escape.
He approaches you again, his other hand touches the corner of your face. Warm, affectionate. ¿Qué te pasa, nena? (What's wrong with you, baby?) The focus of his brown eyes are on your mouth now, the question is whispered, seductive. The touch of his fingers bypass your jaw until it gets on your chin. ¿Quieres algo más que un beso? (Do you want something more than a kiss?)
Youʼre not sure which words to use, which command to prefer. In fact, you donʼt even want to be thinking. You want to shut your brain, to be so dissociated so that only your body can enjoy the moment. You wrapp your arms around him, your face can finally hid in the curve of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his. You hear the sound of his chuckle, feeling his big hands being placed on your waist. ¿Qué quieres? Dímelo. (What do you want? tell me)
You look up to him, shy. The tip of your nose rubs against his, creating a friction that, just because of the absurd proximity, makes everything even more tense, burning erotic.
— No Brasil — you say, trying to hide it by biting your lip —, se diz ‘foder.’
Enzo's smile grows, almost in slow motion. “Foder” (fuck), he repeats the word in a whisper. Again, you donʼt even have to think much to understand. Everything sounded similar, and it seemed that your mind was connected to his by a chaotic carnal desire.
The Uruguayan's lips meets yours; his hot tongue brushes against yours. Your bodies take on a life of their own. Little by little, the main setting stopped being the hotel hallway and became your room. The door gets closed with a gentle push from his feet, while the chosen path is towards your bed.
His hands moves up from your waist to grab your blouse and take it off from your warm body. When you lay on the mattress, supporting on your elbows, itʼs the cue the man needeed to messily pull down your shorts.
— ¿Quieres ponerte de rodillas? (Do you want to be on your knees?) — he asks, as he unbuttons his own blouse. The sharp look he gives you, bathed in desire, delirious. On his lips, you notice the smudged red of your lipstick. — Correrme en tu boca... (Cum in your mouth...)
Maybe itʼs your mind lost in urgency, because you donʼt process what was said to you. You keep your eyes still, your mouth half-open, taking in air, panting. So pathetic that all he does is laugh at your face, running his hands through his hair instead of going straight to the belt of his shorts.
— ¿Qué? ¿No lo comprendes, no? (What? you don't understand it, do you?) — the tone used with you bordered mockery. And contrary to what you would normally feel like, it gives room to a sick feeling, butterflies in your stomach, you feel even more horny, stimulated. He leans in close. — Mira. (Look)
And as if you were learning something for the first time, you imitate him when he parts his lips. You let the man's thumb drag over your lower lip, and then his middle and index fingers together slide over your tongue, until they occupy your mouth. “Así” (like that), he pushes and retreats with his hand, in a slow, sensual movement, “Metértelo en la boca.” (Put it in your mouth)
Ah, now you understand him well. Your face burns, the wet way the fingers come out of your mouth, a little strand of saliva kept resisting in the distance, itʼs wanton. You nod, kneeling on the wooden floor, eyes glued to him unbuckling his belt until you could have his erection in full view.
You part your lips once again, as you were ‘taught’. He fills your mouth, up to a point where your nose touches his crotch, and comes back, completely wet. It allows the Uruguayan to control the pace, to catch the corner of your face. You raise your gaze to his, surrendered not only by the lasciviousness of what you were doing, but also by the beautiful view you had of his face from that angle.
Enzo uses the index finger of his free hand to run down the curve of your nose, affectionately.
— Qué ojitos más bonitos... (You have such beautiful little eyes) — he praises you, with a smile. At that moment, you could swear your heart felt like it exploded. — Eres tan bella, nena. Preciosa. (You are so beautiful, baby. Precious) — he sighs, his head falls back, then to a slide side angle. He looks at you in such a mischievous way that you avoid returning the look. — Me encantaría correrme en tu boca... pero prefiero guardarlo todo para dentro de ti. (I would love to cum into your mouth... but I prefer to keep it all inside you)
You get taken back to bed, easily manhandled by him when you silently gave up control of the situation. He comes over, dangerously close, unlocked the front fitting of your bra, getting lost between your breasts as soon as he releases them from the tightness of the piece. You hold onto his hair, restless under the delicious sucking of his tongue, the wild bite of his teeth. You gasp, having to move away from the black threads of his hair while his mouth travels down your belly.
He releases you from the last piece of underwear too, the wet kisses were loud and pornographic, crackling on your skin. The tip of his big nose rubs lightly over the area where he knew your sensitive clit was. His palm run through your wetness, the chill of the his silver ring sliding across your boiling skin.
He clicks two, three slaps in a row that makes you shudder, whimpering softly. Enzo smiles, he didn't need to, but he returned to that mocking tone from before, of someone who had to calmly spell out the commands so you could understand.
He brings his hand to your lips, gave a little tap on the top, de aquí, and then went all the way down again, leaving a wet trail until he gave your pussy another tap, a aquí. And itʼs these little details that makes everything even better. It makes you feel so dumb, foolish, but itʼs so strangely good...
When he puts himself inside you, you lock your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around him, feeling him dominate everything in you. He, however, insists on eye contact, lifting his torso, resting his forearm against the mattress, to look you in the eye. He smiles, panting like you; moaning low, hoarse. At first, slow, but soon he surrendered to the speed, to the sharp sound of your moans with each stronger thrust.
And there where so many thrilling impulses, fuck it... You want to cover your mouth, close your eyes to try to contain yourself. Itʼs the nasty noise of your bodies in shock, his deep voice, the scent of his hot skin. Youʼre so sensitive that your eyes get wet, a little tear runs down your cheek.
— Oh, no... Perdón, perdóname, cariño. (Oh, no... I'm so sorry, honey) — he stops, his thumb wipes the tear from your face.
'En—', you even started to want to call his name, but the frustration of no longer receiving the same thrilling sensations and to the same extent was such that you only knew how whine; your mind melting, finally murmuring “Dale, dale, papi.” (Give it to me, please, daddy)
Enzo smiles again. He leaves a few kisses on your lips, repeating your words between the kisses, as if he was making fun of your desperation and also the term you used to refer to him.
— ¿Más rápido, hm? Más duro? (Faster, hm? Harder?) — he turns you over on the bed, putting you on all fours. The dirty talk makes you smile, dumb with lust already, clinging to one of the pillows. The Uruguayan's body lead over yours, bringing his mouth close to your ear. — Tranquila, nena. Te daré todo lo que quieras. ( Calm down, baby. I will give you everything you want.)
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etfrin · 2 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter nineteen | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | implied murder, spit play (?¿), choking, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of Dr. Gaul, everyone is crazy here, implied stalking | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 they talk <33
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 remember to give me your feedback, reblog and comment your thoughts and my leg has cramps help-
Beta read by the lovely 💘 @nowitsmissing 🫶🏾
series masterlist | navigation
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Coriolanus felt his air being taken away from him. He puts his hand around the wrist of yours but doesn't attempt to push you away. He knew he easily could, however, he rather liked being under you. He parts his lips to take in much-needed air. But you had other plans in your mind.
You grin, a bit feral, much like him, Coryo noticed. And you leaned in to spit in his open mouth. He groaned, his eyes closing, his hips bucking up to look for friction. He was slapped again for his actions.
“Stop that,” you said, breathless, your eyes wide with anger or lust, he couldn't be sure.
He lets out a chuckle. Fuck, he missed you.
His insane dove.
You choke him harder, making him gasp. He doesn't stop you. Coriolanus could see the bruises formed around your neck. Snow had no right to stop you. He lets you be.
“You and Sejanus had no right to blow me off like that. I disobeyed orders by contacting you and you never thought of sending one letter! ONE! And then you have the nerve to react like this around me.” You narrowed your eyes.
“Remember the girl you had kissed, Coryo?” You whispered, leaning in. His lips were an inch away from yours to meet. “Haven't seen her around now, have you?” You smirked and he knew. He knows the look in your eyes, it was the same he had when he first had blood on his hands.
“You're mine, you have seemed to forget that after a few measly months. You're pathetic, Coryo.”
You crossed a line saying that. Coriolanus tightens the grip he had on your hand and forces it away from his strength. You cry out from the pain. It was going to bruise, just like your neck. It didn't matter to him.
“I am pathetic,” he mused, “I sent letter after letter. I tried getting over you and I failed miserably.”
“Well, you shouldn't have!” You angrily spit out, “Nobody can ever compare to me.”
Coriolanus pushed you away from his lap. He ignored his cock, straining against his pants as he rolled his eyes. “You're too much.”
“I am perfect.”
“Then you should have tried harder to contact me! Do you know how it was? Not seeing you, not hearing your voice, unable to touch your skin! I have missed you. I was dying without you! And what were you doing? Playing science with crazy Gaul.”
“Gaul is the reason you're here and not dead! You messed with her games and I told you there would be consequences!”
“I had no choice,” he yelled out.
“Why not!?”
“Because I love you. I love you and you're mine. I had to win if I wanted a life with you. A proper life worthy of our standings. There was never a choice. Not when it comes to you.”
You let out a wounded noise. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. You had him trapped. He liked the embrace. He hugs you back.
“You're everything,” he admits shamefully.
“You're not forgiven,” you sound like you're crying, he could feel his shirt getting wet. “She was punished for tasting your lips. You will be punished for allowing that.”
“I love you too, Coryo, but you need your lesson.”
Coriolanus nods. Even if he doesn't want to. He knew he didn't have a choice. He will take whatever you give him. Whether it be pain or love. “Okay, dove,” he whispered.
Then he remembered about the night of the gala. The anger you had shared with him, the truth you confined in. “Tell me what you meant by rigging the assignment of tributes,” he said.
You were caught off guard. “Uh.. uhm… I might have cut a deal with the Dean to give us the tributes from the same districts. He was supposed to give us tributes from a better district. Instead, he decided to fucks us over, and we did the same by bettering the games he hated.”
He takes in the explanation and realizes one thing.
“You knew.”
He adds, shocked, “You knew we were soulmates.”
You nod, “Yes. Ever since we were kids. You ran away from me the moment you saw the number on my wrist. The next day your wrist was burnt in an accident. I am many things, Coriolanus, but I am not stupid.”
Coriolanus feels guilt and embarrassment fester in his heart. He was ashamed of his past self. “I am sorry,” he mumbled, unable to meet your eyes.
“You're forgiven.” You smile, soft and gentle.
You tilt his head up and press a kiss to his lips.
“Tell me about district thirteen,” he said, wanting to know if the rumors were true. Especially since you had mentioned it before.
You freeze and Coriolanus catches the panic in your eyes for a split second before you relax. You didn't bother lying to him, knowing that he would catch you.
“I can't. Capitol orders. Dr. Gauls' order.”
Coriolanus clenched his jaw but nodded.
“Is that why you are here?” He asked.
“I am here because of you, that was a means to an end.”
You said it so sincerely that Coriolanus felt his cheeks burn and painted in crimson red. “I didn't get your letters,” he said in a lower voice. “I thought you abandoned me.”
“I have done many things to have you, Coriolanus Snow. Leaving you isn't in my cards.” You admitted shamelessly, not caring that he can see your obsession with him. He thrived in it so there wasn't any problem.
“I sent one every week despite Dr. Gaul forbidding it.”
“Dr. Gaul,” he thought out loud, “She stopped those letters from reaching me and vice versa.”
You frown, and he thinks you'll defend the scientist until you nod. “Makes sense, that bitch is controlling and paranoid. But there's nothing I wrote in the letters that would get us in trouble.”
You raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Coriolanus answers, “I didn't either.”
You get off his lap and stand up. You wince, raising your (his) t-shirt to check the wound he has given you. CS. There was a smile on your face as you ran your thumb around the letters. “You're insane,” you mutter affectionately.
Snow shrugs in response. He had no argument to refute your fact. “It looks great on you,” he said instead, a bit of pride creeping in his voice.
You laugh in response, “I know.”
You pick up the pocket knife, checking the blade out. You go to Coriolanus and press the blade to his jaw. You don't cut the skin. You smirk, heat in your eyes as you say, “My initials will look great on you too. But not today.”
He felt disappointed.
“When then?” Coriolanus asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“After your punishment is over,” you said, opening your suitcase to change into something that would hide the obvious bruises on your skin.
“I won't forgive you until I have you crying on your knees, Coriolanus,” you grin, “You have to realize that your actions have severe consequences.”
You walked out of the door, leaving him alone on the bed with a crazed mind and an overwhelmed body.
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flowershines · 6 months
Text
Say that again
Peeta Mellark x Stripper F. reader
warnings: name calling, smut, dom mike, hard dom, insulting, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie
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Nights usually were not as tense as tonight was, when Peeta had gotten home from his job he got no sleep and of course had to get snotty with you, just because he was tired.
Arguing back and forth to the point of almost screaming just to get their point across, but that wasn’t even the worse part.
Peeta was too tired to argue that he had forgotten what you guys were arguing about making you even more mad, at this point he just kept going to hear his own voice.
But before we get into the arguing currently, the reason the whole argument started was because he insulted your job which of course isn’t that bad but he kept going till he started arguing about the things that you always do wrong.
“Peeta you really should start at least taking a nap before work so that way you dont come home tired.”
“I don’t need your help, Y/n.”
“Oh ok, I was just trying to help, sorry.”
“You should be and I don't want your help just stop being clingy and leave me alone.”
“What is wrong with you, I was just looking out for you.”
“Well don’t it’s not your job, oh speaking of jobs you do yours?”
“I-”
“Exactly what I thought so dont talk to me till you get your priorities straight.”
“You act like I don't have a job.” You said laughing at him
This made him even more pissed, “Oh sorry forgot you get praised by other men by dancing in their face while they put money in your pocket like some filthy piggy bank.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He said inches away from your face then walked away.
“Atleast they fuck better than you.”
“What did you just say.”
“You heard me.” You said mimicking his tone.
Now both of you guys were just arguing about how you started doing your job, defending yourself he just kept coming at you.
When you both first started dating he knew about your job and he was okay with it, because you were helping out the both of you out with the money.
The part that got him riled up was when you said that they fucked better than he does.
You made a deal with him that you wouldn’t have sex with any of the customers.
That’s why he was screaming at you now.
“So do you just go around whoring which every guy you meet or just your customers.”
“I just was saying that to rile you up.”
“No you weren’t, you know what my ex has better pussy than you.”
“Oh for real.”
“Yeah.”
With that you grabbed your jacket and keys then started walking to the door.
“Where you going?”
“Not like you care or anything but i’m going to my job to find a guy that can dick me down, cause you don’t do shit for me.”
“Bull shit, i always make you cum.”
“Oh but apparently you also make your ex cum too, so go fuck her.”
“No Y/n I didn’t mean it.”
“Nah you good, i’m pretty sure there are gonna be cute guys there too. I mean there always is and guess who always gets them, ME.”
Grabbing the door knob you started to put your jacket on and leave to go to your car, you knew that you weren’t going to do any of the things you were taking about.
But you just wanted to see if he actually cared.
He grabbed you hand before you left and threatened you saying.
“If you go fuck some guy i’m fucking my ex and sending a video to you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you too.”
He held the sides of your face and placed a hard and passionate kiss, he kept kissing you and occasionally biting your lip in the process.
“Ow, Peeta what the fuck.”
“Just shut up and enjoy.”
“How can I you can’t even make me cum.”
“Wanna test that out.”
You laughed in his face riling him up even more than he already is, he pins you against the door and humps his hard on, on your thigh.
“This is what is going to be making you beg that you never said that.”
“Yeah… Okay.” You said laughing again
He continued kissing you roughly and biting your lips and sneaking his tongue into your mouth.
Humping his hard cock on your thigh feeling it twitching, you try your hardest not to give in to his needs.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you into your shared bedroom and pushed you onto the bed.
“Hey!”
“What’s wrong I thought you liked being treated like a slut?”
You just rolled your eyes, he stripped your pants off your legs and kissed from your thigh up to your clothed heat, noticing how wet you are.
“See you like it, fucking slut.”
He pulled your underwear to the side and stick his finger into you then going to suck on your clit.
He adds his middle finger as he fingers you and eats you out at the same time, not wanting to give in to him you didn’t encourage him nor play with his hair.
You just brought your nails up to your face and started looking along with picking at them acting like he wasn’t even doing anything.
This pissed him off, he yanked your underwear off and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.
Still looking at your nails you tried to ignore what he was doing but your thoughts were interrupted by him entering you.
You softly moaned trying to have him not hear, his breathing was shaking.
“You like being fucked like this?”
He started to slam his cock in you at a vigorous pace, then he pulled out making you clench around nothing.
He put you on your stomach and told you to put your ass up.
Doing so you grabbed your phone and started playing a coloring game, he then started fucking you again.
“I know your just fucking with me, i know you like this dick by the way you clenching around me.” He grunted
“This pussy is mine, not some random customers.”
He then started going as fast and hard as he could at this point you couldn’t hold it in anymore and gave in to him.
“Fuck.”
He was a groaning and moaning mess behind you.
“I’m gonna cum soon.”
“Fuck, me too.”
He was still going in you he usually has pulled out by now.
“What are you doing?”
“Cumming in you.”
“What? Why?”
“So every time you think of us fucking think of my cum still in you and to remind you of what happens when you pull that shit with me.”
With that he moans in your ear and cums in you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said earlier.”
“I know, i’m sorry too.”
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489 notes · View notes
greycaelum · 1 year
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Scribbles & Doodles— Mafia Gojo: { Summer Heat }
—Mafia Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader
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𑁍 Synopsis: Spending the scorching summer with your husband on your private island leads to igniting other embers in your marriage
𑁍 Genre: NSFW: explicit smut, traditional arrange marriage, hints of yandere if you squint
𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (3.7k)— tattoos, teasing, breeding kink, impregnation, pregnancy talks, oral sex, unprotected sex, open space sex(—no one in the vicinity), nipple play, biting, praise kink, cockwarming, dirty talk, creampie, cervix fucking, overstimulation, profanity, soft dom satoru, cunnilingus, yakuza/mafia hints if you squint, toxic in-laws, mention of an accident [tell me if i missed something]
𑁍 A/N: Hi everyone~ a lot has been going on but finally I manage to finish the piece I'm working on, here it is. My mind is going brrrr about mafia stuff so I hope you like this one! Sending y'all very tight hug! —Grey,
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Growing up, the idea of summer in your mind glows with the open sea with tropical trees lending you shade while sitting in your sun lounger, watching the waves ebb the white sand.
Going home to Amami Oshima every summer is a tradition you have religiously followed before your college years. And now that you're back, you find yourself in the same place you have grown up loving the heat of the sun.
"Too hot don't you think so too Ma'am? It's a shame for your pretty skin. My hands are free to help." A mischievous tone swirl in Satoru's voice. Wearing nothing to cover his sculpted-inked torso, ripped in well-toned muscles traced by his tattoos and few scars, his black swimming trunks hug his Adonis belt almost like a sin. The bulging veins on his biceps leave you tremendously distracted and bothered. He walked barefooted in the sand with hands on the sides of his pocket shamelessly eyeing you.
You resisted the idea of pouncing on the gorgeous man, admiring his menacing tattoos that made your toes curl. The way it hugs his chest like a coat, crawling to his forearms and painting down his back makes you breathless of how much beautiful he could get.
"My husband already promised to put sunscreen on me, I wonder if he forgot." You giggled, looking at him with siren eyes.
Satoru merely smirks, climbing on top of you with his hands on either side of your head, blocking any path for you to escape.
"Fuck Baby, lucky husband you got." His head delved down and you expected a rough kiss from his lips but nothing came, instead, a soft peck landed on the tip of your nose.
You opened your eyes and saw Satoru's grin as if he knew what you were thinking.
"Sit up straight, you're gonna get sunburned." Satoru retracted to sit on the end of your lounger, grabbing the sunscreen on your side table and squirting a good amount of it on his palm.
For a man always wearing a suit when dealing with his business, Satoru is fair toned despite being an albino. Yet that doesn't stop him from being a little too red like an octopus ball during summer, something you've loved watching since childhood, teasing him as much as you could.
Pouting you sit up straight adjusting your bikini before giving your arm to him. There's something about the tattooed man, twice your size and yet buttering you up in sunscreen with full attention that gives you a fuzzy feeling in your tummy.
"My husband would do it rougher and quicker." You bit your lip.
Satoru raised a brow at you but continued doing his job, tapping your knee with the back of his hand, he grabs your ankles to his lap as he lathers you up, not missing a spot.
"Uh-huh? What else would he do?" He rasped.
"He would..." You deliberately drag it longer, watching his brows frowning. "Make me lay on my stomach too."
You tried to fight the smile on your lips as Satoru's face only grew impatient, narrowing his ocean eyes in your direction before pinching your hips, telling you to roll on your tummy.
"Sir, you look like my husband."
And you broke the final straw, a loud spank struck your butt making you yelp. It wasn't that hard but you sure got surprised.
"You really are a minx." Satoru groaned.
"Only for my husband."
"Fuck, I'm your husband. Wife."
You laugh, accepting the heated kiss Satoru punished you until you feel your lips tingle and swollen.
The two of you have been quite busy, barely seeing each other in a day, going as far as seeing each other only at midnight when your husband comes home from work and you're awoken by his shuffling.
It's frustrating how he's your husband but he's the person you get to spend the least amount of time with. And you're sure he feels the same, conveyed by the morning he couldn't bear to let you out of his arms. Hesitant and pouting whenever you walk to the door to leave for work.
So here the both of you are. Leaving busy Tokyo to go home where the two of you spent the blazing heat of summer since childhood. Away from work, away from stress and the constant fear for your husband's safety. It's only on this island that your heart is at peace.
Work is fine, you love your job. But being around too many people drains you. Especially your in-laws and even your father. The idea of having to face them is already strenuous for your mind.
"What's on your mind?" Laying on the lounger with the sun still high atop the sky is so peculiar. But here you are with your body on top of Satoru your fingers tracing his tattooed chest, his legs propped by your sides while raking his hand over your back.
His expression is serious but it softened slightly when he looked at you. The way he looked at you is different from the way he looks at everyone else. Like a cushion to the malevolence, his callous hands could do. A cushion specifically crafted for you. But it's a different matter with the hostility of people around you.
People never failed to keep pointing out if an heir is coming along the way. It's as if not bearing a child after the first few months of getting married is a huge sin for you to be condemned and criticized every time you meet.
And those are getting to you. The anxiousness whenever you try for the test and see it come back negative. The constant worry of your fertility chasing after you. Or will you ever make a good mother?
"Nothing." You close your eyes, flushing out the thoughts.
"Hey, wife. What's wrong? Am I holding you too tight?" Satoru noticed your silence and move over to see the waver of your eyes you're too slow to hide.
Satoru is so soft with you, so tender that it's almost heartbreaking how he holds you so dear without any hesitation. And all you wish is to reciprocate this kind of love to him in the way your body and soul allow.
He once spoke about it, a light talk over your first days of marriage but he never brought it up again. Something you knew, he was being considerate for your part after all the talks from your families every dinner that ends up Satoru being in a foul mood, growing more distant with his family.
And it breaks your heart seeing him fall apart from his parents. It breaks your heart seeing a family drift away. It triggers the fear in your heart after seeing what happened to you parents as well. It scares you seeing that happen to your husband.
You look at him and it seems he always knew what's going on in your mind. A kiss delves on your forehead.
"I want a child 'Toru. I want it so bad."
Not because everyone keeps bothering you. Or you have something to prove to the people talking about you.
But you have always dreamt of a child, a perfect copy of your husband running to clutch your legs to show you the sandcastle Satoru built for fun. A son or a daughter, running through the white sand by the beach sunset.
You want a family with him.
"You wanna be heavy with my child?" A feral glint sparked in your husband's eyes.
Before you could nod Satoru held your face kissing you over and over again, lust-filled eyes staring at you. His strong hand pulled your face closer so that you could feel the air you breathed combining.
"I will put a baby in you," he whispered lifting you in his arms and walking back to your beach house. "Maybe even two." The thought had you hazy and distraught between his words and kisses. "You'd look so good with my kids." Satoru cursed and set you down on the veranda, he pushed your back against the wall, his arms imprisoning you while his hands roam your body. "My wife carrying my child, fuck baby. You're making me crazier for you."
You moaned, trying to keep your eyes closed, saving even a bit of your dignity from doing this in such an open space. But what else is there that Satoru wouldn't notice about you?
His large body drowned you. A ripping sound of fabric tore through the silent beach. Looking down, all you could see is your exposed chest and before you could cover yourself Satoru pinned your arms above your head, attacking your lips into a maddening kiss while his fingers brush your peaks, skin-to-skin, electrifying you to a mess. He softly groped your mounds, kneading and pawing your milky globes with his rough callous palm and your body just respond to his touches before you could allow it.
"T-the people." You half-heartedly struggle, maintaining the last inch of sense in your head.
But Satoru raggedly cursed almost making you faint.
"Bold of you to assume I'll share even a fucking inch of your skin Baby." It's almost a sin how you could forget his possessiveness just because you've been alone for days. "I'll hunt them down one by one."
You can't form an answer and threw your head back when he bent down, inserting your hard peaks into his hot mouth, swirling and suckling you so needily. He could feel the smirk on his lips. Through the slits of your hooded eyes, you could see his glimmering eyes filled with lust. His kiss is so deep that it distracted you from his hands trailing down your thighs. One touch against the thin cloth of your bikini, he chuckled between curses.
"Fuck baby," he whispered, kissing your jaws sporadically. "You're so horny." He brushes your clit through your panties. He rubs it gently with his thumb.
The shame started creeping up on you, you slightly pushed him but it barely had any strength. "Satoru please." You wanted to scold him but it came out as a whine only spurring your husband. The hot blue beach staring at you openly makes your belly tingle, unused to the idea of doing such an intimate act in full view.
But you're sure you want this and you trust Satoru will handle everything to keep your dignity, you arch when he plays with your hair with one hand while he strokes your belly with the other.
A moan escapes you as Satoru starts to kiss your neck, tracing your skin with the tip of his tongue as his hand snaps your bra. You lean your head to the side to give him more access to your neck while he pushes you onto the hard stone wall. You know your arousal is leaving a stain in your panties, and when he starts sucking on your neck your knees threaten to wobble in the sheer pleasure.
Satoru's bulge is hard, brushing against your stomach. His curses thundered when you clung to his neck desperately. Large callous hands caress your body, roaming the fullness of your breast, grabbing the dips of your hips whilst he pushes you against his hard chest kissing you breathlessly.
You're already a mess when he goes down your body.
Satoru kisses your belly, knowing that's where his child will grow inside of you, as he slips his thumbs under the edge of your panties, "Give me permission, wife." He groans, looking into your eyes. When you gasp a faint 'yes' and Satoru pulls off your panties before kissing you in the middle of your thighs. Satoru is careful, testing your mounds open so he could press his tongue in between. Lapping your pussy lips the same way he would make out with you.
The imminent pleasure is jarring as you try to push back the wanton moans from your husband's tongue. As if he heard your suppression of moans, Satoru sunk his tongue deeper inside your walls, feeling your walls pulsate and your breathing more shallow. Your hands tried pushing him away to save face but your body convulsed in the middle of the rapturous sensation.
Satoru wasted no time pulling down his shorts, he pressed a bite on your neck before grabbing your hand to palm his shaft guiding your hand up and down as he groans like a wounded lion, needily gasping at the pleasure your hands stroking his aching member. "I'll get you pregnant," he promised sincerely with passion staring at your blown-out eyes, "Gonna fill you up with my seed until you can't hold it in."
You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly entered your core. Feeling the tip pop into your quivering passage. He slid into you with ease, pushing his cock back and forth while he kissed the corner of your lips, feathering more along your jaw as his thrusts got deeper and faster. Your hot walls caressing him so tightly it's so hard for him to hold back.
Crazy. You are driving him crazy. There was an equal amount of gentleness and roughness to his movements that sated the both of you perfectly. His scent, the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his throaty moans. Even his moans are too much, too sexy making you clench around him, whining and begging in between.
While your legs were tangled around his waist, his mouth latched onto your tit when he gave each bosom a lavish suck making your pert rosebuds tingle and hard. Soon enough this will be the most tender globes that'll keep him preoccupied latching on to you. It was until he began increasing the speed of his thrusts that you could no longer contain your wanton cries, "Satoru! Slow d-down ahm!"
"Cum," he whispered in your ear, knowing full well that your orgasm was building back on your lower abdomen, "Cum for me, Baby."
"'Toru!" Breathless and twitching from your release, your nails dug into his back that you're sure was gonna bleed as you gripped around his girth, milking yourself around his cock followed by your helpless cries. Your chest was rising and falling heavily after your climax, but did you think Satoru was done?
He watches your eyes grow droopy from exhaustion, letting you breathe for a second or two before smirking as he pulls your legs to wrap around his waist, sheathing himself back into your soaking core.
"Ahhh! S-Satoru? W-wait!" You cried.
Grunting at the sopping sound of his shaft slamming inside you while you clung to him in your weariness, moaning and crying his name.
"Don't think so Baby, you're so wet." Satoru drawls at you, his voice dark and teasing, hissing when you suddenly clamp around him.
You loved it when Satoru is a bit rough and wild to an extent. It's when his pleasant mask slip and reveals the raw emotion beneath him. When he losses control, desperate for you. Satoru needed you in those moments. And you are more than willing to accept every inch of it.
Pouring his emotions into you, groaning his anger into your ears before biting the hollow of your neck to mark you with his teeth like tattoos adorning your skin. You loved it when your husband vented his frustrations into you. When he finds the invigorating relief in your tight heat. He never forgets to make sure to fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you to hear your cries and feel you cream around his hard cock.
It was so heady that Satoru could only groan out ruthless profanities as he thrust so hard making sure he was so deep into you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit Baby!" You clenched around him as he spurted thick jets of cum right into your womb. "Baby... You're too good, fuck!" His breathy grunts were released when his hips fell out of rhythm. Hot dollops of his seed were shot straight into your womb, ensuring that every drop of his cum was sitting deep into your cervix. When he pulled out, you could feel his warm semen seeping out of your entrance because you were clenching naturally, twitching from muscle memory of his cock inside you as you gasped for air. He kept thrusting shallow thrust into you until there were no more but faint ropes spilling from his shaft.
Satoru didn't stop until you were a begging mess, shaking from pleasure and exhaustion, pussy twitching from the last one of numerous orgasms, making his thick milky cum trickle out of you while he kept his shaft nestled in your pussy keeping anymore of his seed from escaping as he watches your eyes flutter close with a satisfied smug smirk on his handsome face.
"You look beautiful, Baby." he expressed with a chuckle, adoring the way you nuzzle into his neck, exhausted. He stared at you like you were the most precious thing this dark world has ever given him. And it only took a minute for that sinful lust to fade into tenderness as he sees you slump forward. Satoru was very much proud to see how much cum he had inside of you but he needs to take care of you too.
Stepping into the house, he walk on the stairs leading to your bedroom and slowly pulled out of you to grab a towel but your soft whines halted him making him look back to the bed to see you trying to get up.
"Stay, with me." You breathe, looking at him with pleading tired eyes.
"I have to wipe you." Satoru kissed your forehead, pulling the duvet to hide your naked body or else he'll ravage you mercilessly again. "I'll be quick."
"Nooo, hold me." You frowned sleepily.
Satoru finds it adorable when you become so whiny, so needy. It's one of those days when you need him more than usual. With no words left, he climbs on the bed, joining you, letting your head lay on his chest as he closes his eyes while stroking your head.
Not a minute he could feel something grinding down his half-hard shaft.
"Fucking stop it, minx." He whispered darkly, dragging his words into a deep slur.
But damn that little demon with a pitchfork of yours acting up again. A soft hand grabs his erect shaft, slowly sliding into your soaking pussy making your husband cuss and grab your hips and seize your lips for a sloppy kiss.
"You naughty woman. You're not walking out of here until I'm done."
The soft sun peek through the sheer curtains of your bedroom. It was already dawn when you slept and your head is pounding, your body aching, begging for sleep.
"Awake?" Soft kisses rain on your shoulders, a hand pulled you closer and your back collided with a hard chest.
"Let me sleep, 'm still tired." Bemoaning about your sore body. You determinedly shut your eyes despite Satoru's kisses and caresses.
"Breakfast's ready, c'mon I'll feed you, Baby." Satoru wakes up early, which drags you to join him as well.
"Nooooo~" You faked crocodile tears but it never works on Satoru as he effortlessly pulls you to sit on his lap and move the table laden with food.
Defeated, you opened your eyes and made yourself comfortable on your husband's lap, nuzzling into his neck, leaning unto his bare chest, while watching him sip on his mug of tea. Satoru looks damn fine with his messy bedroom hair, sweatpants being the only thing covering his perfectly sculpted body. His dark vivid tattoos kept you busy, tracing them every time you get to touch him.
"Any plans for today?" Satoru offered you a piece of toasted sourdough with egg, bacon, and cheese on top. It's a meager meal but the effort is so much more than enough. Knowing there's nothing much in the fridge yet your husband still managed to fix you a meal. 
"Nothing much, anything you wanna do 'Toru?"
He shook his head and cradled your back, making you lean on his chest and you listened to his staccato heartbeat while he eats.
"Do you really want a baby?" Satoru started out of nowhere, looking at your expression. 
"Of course, do you not want a baby right now?" Your heartbeat started picking up.
"I want..." He kissed your temples. "I do want a child with you. But if the words of people are bothering you don't even mind them."
Satoru knows, how your eyes are cast down when someone mentions the matter of a child. He never mentioned it again to keep you from worrying too much about it. And those who try to challenge him by hurting you with words are swiftly and quietly dealt with. He has never had you for himself only after so long because you left for college and there's so much to catch up with you. He's never in a rush to have a child, as long as he has you.
He would love an heir for his legacy. And for the clan too. But if that's what will tear you away from him, then it's not even an option, to begin with. A child pales in comparison to you in his eyes. Without you, it'll all be meaningless.
"It's not about them, I do want a baby Satoru, I want a family." You bit your lips, a habit you've never grown out of. Fingers starting to fidget with panic in your eyes. But Satoru held your hand, bringing the back of your hands to his lips before your doubt spirals.
"I want it to." Satoru lifted your chin with his finger and kissed you softly. "So don't worry too much about it Baby, I promised you. We'll do this slowly, together." He knows how badly you wish for a family. "This lifetime belongs only to you wife." He whispered like a prayer.
"As I to you." You nod, feeling his arms tighten around you. As long as your husband is here, it's enough to set your heart at ease.
The comfortable silence is interrupted by a phone call. Satoru reaches for his phone and the sudden frown adorning his temples forebodes an ominous feeling in your heart. The call was followed shortly by your husband's gruff replies. It was brief and the call ended.
Satoru looks at you and breathes as he held you closer in his strong arms.
"Pack your bags, we need to go home Baby, your father is ambushed."
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—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned image(s) and song(s) used belongs to their respective owner(s)
General Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @lexiene @tender-rosiey
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midnightsnyx · 6 months
Text
girl at home | mat barzal | part 4
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pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.
warnings: not edited, angst, mentions of alcohol, pregnancy, food word count: 1.3k authors note: sorry it's late & short but i was sick and then had writers block. i hope u guys like it!! if u like it let me know but if you hate it also let me know. also HUGE thanks to @barzysbaby for the help with this chapter!! it probably wouldn't have been finished without your help! if anyone wants to be added or taken off the tag list, let me know! you can shoot me a dm, send an ask or fill out my tag list form.
requests are open 🫶🏻 masterlist masterpost ask box taglist form
After your unexpected heart-to-heart with Mat, you begin to realize that you’re starting to tread on some thin ice with your relationship with him. Letting those feelings you’d tucked away start to come back was a recipe for disaster because you had Nora to think about. If he really wanted to be a part of her life, the two of you couldn’t start a relationship because if it went wrong, it would ruin the opportunity for him to be in her life comfortably. 
However, the problem is how perceptive Nora can be. 
Letting yourself have ‘just one moment’ with Mat last night was a bad idea because you wake up on the couch the next morning, Mat holding you close, and a grumpy six-year-old demanding breakfast. 
“Eggs please,” Nora demands, curious eyes watching you and Mat. When you make no move to get up off the couch and get her breakfast, she stomps a foot and crosses her arms.
“Grandma said I could have eggs for breakfast,” she says and then pauses before adding: “and she said I could have pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes.”
“You’re not at grandma’s, are you?” you reply, watching her frown. 
“Well then can you bring me to grandma’s?” she replies without missing a beat.
You open your mouth to tell her no, you won’t be bringing her to grandmas with that attitude when Mat interrupts. 
“I’ll make some pancakes,” he mumbles sleepily, sitting up and pulling you with him. You turn to tell him no but your mouth goes dry because you forgot how good he looks in the morning. You’re staring long enough that he notices and a smirk tugs at his mouth but he doesn’t say anything, instead standing up and offering a hand to Nora. 
“Let’s go make mom some pancakes,” he says and she smiles up at him and it’s just so damn domestic that you want to cry.  
You watch them walk over to the kitchen and start preparing the ingredients while you sit there, trying to pull yourself together. He’s falling so seamlessly into being a parent that you can’t decide how to feel. His attentiveness and patience with her could be temporary and then when he realizes how hard being a parent really is, you’ll be left to clean up the mess he leaves behind. On the other hand, he might be serious about the entire thing and everything could work out.
Nora's giggles catch your attention and you look to see Mat cracking an egg on her forehead like the video he had sent you a few days ago, claiming that he would try it on Nora. Almost as if he can sense that you’re watching them, he looks up and catches your eye and grins, tilting his head slightly.
“You wanna help or just sit there all morning?” he teases so you stand up and make your way to the kitchen to stand next to Nora, kissing the forehead when she grins up at you. 
“How can I help?”
. . .
It was inevitable that the hockey world would catch wind that Mathew Barzal had a child. Whether it was his now ex-girlfriend, or just someone from home that spilled the beans, suddenly all the sports sites had articles up about it. They can't legally say Nora’s name or show photos of her because she’s still a minor, but they can definitely dig up old high school pictures and find your instagram.
It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together for people to realize that you were his baby mama. You had to turn your social media accounts private because you were suddenly having people comment on your photos, and sending DM’s. Most of them weren’t the nicest, accusing you of kid-trapping Mat and while you knew that it was useless to be upset over it, it was hard. They didn’t and would never know the details but it bothered you to no end, and unfortunately, you took your frustration out on Mat, who took whatever you threw at him. You said things you regretted the next morning and he would just smile and tell you it was fine. 
But it wasn’t, and everything crashed down about two weeks after the first article was posted. You woke up to your phone buzzing, calls and texts from your mom, Jax, some other friends and even Liana. 
And a single text from Mat that had just two words, and a link attached.  
baby daddy: I'm sorry. instagram.com/matbarzal 
It was a statement, clearly written by a PR Manager from the Islanders organization. The statement basically said that Mathew Barzal did not in fact have a child. It was just a rumor floating around that a disgruntled fan spread. A lot of people called it bullshit, saying that it was PR cleaning up a mess, which technically they were doing. Then, there were the fans and journalists who did believe the statement and tried to take back whatever they may have said that was mean. 
It wasn’t the things other people were saying about it though, it was what Mat wasn’t saying. After the post, he ghosted you for four days, ignoring all the texts and calls even when they were about Nora. Liana and Nadia still asked to see Nora on the weekend that she normally does so you dropped her off Friday evening, noticing that Mat’s car was nowhere to be seen. Nadia and Liana didn’t say anything about the situation, just thanking you for letting Nora stay over for the night and promising to call if anything came up. You didn’t have anything planned so you went back to your apartment, hoping to catch up on some overdue work you’d been letting pile up.
Halfway through writing a draft for a chapter, there’s a knock on your door. You’re once again suspecting it to be Nadia or Liana with Nora but you come face to face with Mat.
Again.
His eyes are trained on the ground, refusing to meet yours. There are a thousand things you want to say, most of them not nice at all but what comes out is: “beer?” 
His head shoots up, clearly not expecting that response from you but he nods his head and walks in when you step to the side. He toes off his shoes and walks straight towards the kitchen. By instinct, he opens the fridge to get himself a drink and then pauses, looking at you sheepishly.
“Beer?”
“Water,” you reply and he nods, passing you a bottle of water. You both sit at the kitchen island, drinking your respectable drinks in silence until he clears his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know that they were going to write that. Our public relations manager wrote it and just told me to post it. My agent asked her to clean things up a little because it was getting out of hand. I didn’t want to hurt you or Nora, I swear.” 
“It’s too late for that,” you say sharply. “You said you want to be in Nora’s life but she can’t be a secret, Mat! You can’t say you want to try, and then turn around and tell the world that she’s not yours. If you’re not going to be in this one-hundred percent, then you shouldn’t be here at all.” 
He must take your last statement as a dismissal because he stands up, slips his shoes on and leaves, closing the door a little harder than necessary. 
You sit in silence far too long, part of you foolishly hoping that Mat will come back but you know he won’t. Not today at least. So, you go back to working on your draft but you can’t focus. Part of you wants to try and put yourself in his shoes, to try and understand why he didn’t fight harder against what public relations wanted but you can’t. You can’t imagine not being Nora’s mom and you wonder if maybe this is the way out he was hoping for. Maybe he decided that being a parent was fun for a little while, but when he understood the real consequences and struggles that come along with it, he realized he didn’t want it. That he didn’t want Nora.
Maybe this is his out.
tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @teapartydreams @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal
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Text
Edge You To Death
Pairing: Undertaker x AFAB! Reader or Undertaker x Fem! Reader.
Summary: Undertaker loves ruining your orgasms.
Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Casual sex, Undertaker and Reader have a weird ‘situationship’, Age gap relationship, Mention of pedophila (not in reference to Undertaker! UT is not a pedo!), Reader is unaware Undertaker is a reaper or of what he does for Ciel, Reader has MY personal thoughts on pedophila (I don’t think they are controversial but just in case you don’t wanna here it skip the introduction), Oral sex (fem receiving), Edging, Daddy kink.
Writing Time: 1 hour.
Word Count: 1,317.
Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 20.
A/N:
I kinda forgot wtf I was doing here.
Most of my Kinktober works were written well in advance, but this wasn’t one of them. I wrote this 2 days before it was due. My requests are pilling up but I should start prioritising these now. I doubt I’ve gotten that Matthew Patel request done yet, I planned to do that when I got the requester’s first message about it, sent the same day I got the request, but not anymore. Sounds a lot like a request got ages ago on my previous account but deleted when I started feeling harassed by the requester. This is more for the Matthew Patel requester than anyone else but yeah… don’t harass people about requests especially if it hasn’t been that long since you sent it. Everyone, harass me over a request and I’ll just delete it. You can send one reminder after a week and that’s it. Anymore and I delete. I usually have requests done in a week or two and those kinds of messages just destroy my motivation.
Anyway! Please enjoy this Undertaker smut.
Here are my other Kinktober 2023 works.
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—-///—-
You had been feeling dam good since you started sleeping with the Undertaker.
You had new relationship jitters, even if it wasn’t really a relationship. He was what you had fantasied about for years. An older gentleman who was kind and treated you like a Queen, but also open about wanting to ravishing you. With his age also came along a lot of life and sexual experience, a lot more than you had. He never mocked you for knowing less than him, he was just happy you wanted to know and happily taught you a lot.
Whilst age gap relationships have always been common and considered normal prior to the Victorian era, it was slowly becoming distasteful. Something many were unhappy with but also many other who were happy. Undertaker, years ago, would have been in favour this but with you now… he was in the middle and uncomfortable with it. Surely you and his relationship was ok because you was definitely an adult.
You were pretty set in stone on the matter. To you, age gap relationships were bad, unless it was you. You were a young woman who would never say no to an older man, even when you was a girl. You knew your exes were absolutely pedos, but you didn’t care as long as it was just you they were after. And no you didn’t consider yourself a victim.
You didn’t think of Undertaker in the same way though. You was an adult when you met him therefore wasn’t bad for perusing you. Well, you perused him but it didn’t matter.
Right know you was doing some dusting in the front of Undertaker’s shop, he was in the back. The first thing you took notice of when you first met your lover… was how nasty his shop is. It’s always covered in dirt and stinked of death. Obviously it would smell of death, it’s a funeral home, but the dirt was unnecessary and you was surprised that Undertaker had tried to do something about the smell. You figured he’s probably gotten used to it now and gone nose blind.
Once you had cleaned to a satisfying amount, you heard the bell go. You looked up and saw the familiar Earl Phantomhive and his butler. The young boy always looked so dam miserable, it depressed you. You didn’t like interacting with either of them and they never seemed to want your help, so you called your bedmate.
Undertaker came into the room, happy to deal with the Phantomhive and his butler. You was aware the two engaged in a different kind of business than coffins or funeral services, but it was none of your business what their business was. So you wasn’t going to ask…
Instead you headed out of the room and upstairs to bed, it was late and you knew Undertaker would join you after he was done with his ‘business’.
—-///—-
“Sort out the Earl?” You asked.
“Yes, Dear.” Undertaker smiled as he climbed into his bed, next you.
You sat up immediately and glared at him, “How many times have I told you Undie?! No sleeping in your day clothes!”
He laughed as you pushed him out of his own bed. Yeah, Undertaker had a bad habit of sleeping in his day clothes. He didn’t own PJs until you came into his life, nearly a year ago now.
“Ok! Ok!” Undertaker walked over to his drawers to fish out his sleepwear.
Once he did, he placed them on the end of the bed and looked down at you. You gave him a small smile, suddenly remembering this was his home and his bed and who are you say anything about how he sleeps? After all, you’re not even dating.
Undertaker grinned widely at you and slowly started removing his cloak. Ah, he was trying to indicate something.
He slowly stripped completely in front of you before getting back on the bed and crawling onto you. You kissed his lip gently and took hold of his arms, but Undertaker shook your hold off his arms and grabbed your face to pull you even closer to him, deeping your kiss. He quickly slipped his tongue into your mouth, desperate for a makeout session.
You moaned in between the kisses, you were started to feel a growing sensation in between your legs. If not dealt with quickly, it would become uncomfortable. Luckily for you, Undertaker could sense your arousal and was more than willing to help.
He let go of your lips and before you could even whine or complain, he was pulling the duvet and sleep shorts down and licking your lower regions. You made your hands comfortable, pulling on the pillow under your head and proped up your legs and planted your feet into the bed.
Undertaker ate you out like a mad mad. Sucking, licking, spitting and groaning like crazy. Your pussy and it’s sweet smell made him act unusual, way less calm and in control than usual. This was something you was proud of. You had the power (or pussy) to make Undertaker lose all composure.
You started to feel less prideful about your achievement as you started to feel yourself losing to Undertaker’s tongue. Your whimpered had become cries and moans, you begged him for release but you should of known better. It would be a long while before you got that.
Undertaker grinned evily against your cunt then looked up you, just go get a glimpse of your flustered expression. Having wait himself for release was a sacrifice he was willing to make if he got to see you cry and beg him for climax. He absolutely got a weird power trip from it.
“Oh please… oh please Daddy, I need to cum now!”
“Nu uh uh! You don’t get to cum until I say so, Dearie!”
You were still staring up at the ceiling and unable to look down, but you didn’t need to look down to know Undertaker was wearing his usual evil wicked grin. He always had that look when he was planning to edge you to death.
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punksdoll · 4 months
Note
OOPS SORRY i was the one who sent the rhea request for in the night but i forgot to give a plot - how about an enemies to lovers between reader and rhea, there at a club for a superstars birthday and reader gets really drunk and starts flirting with rhea?
~~~𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅~~~
pt 2 of always loved
pt.3 of always loved
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gif not mine like, comments, & reblogs appreciated
𝑹𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ^owner of gif
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆
𝒂/𝒏: 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍🙌🏼(𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒏𝒆.) 𝒊 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝒊 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖<𝟑 (𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒖𝒑:))
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑(𝒂𝒌𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖), 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆😞,𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒌, 𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓, (𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓), 𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕
not proofread
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Y/n stares at herself through at the mirror. Staring at the black and blue bruise that’s forming on her jaw as she tries fighting the tears that are threatening to spill. She had to get going before he wakes up.
Y/n starts covering up the bruises as best as she can, biting down the winces that she wants to let out. He was asleep and she wants to make sure he stays like that until she leaves.
Today was her friend Bianca’s birthday and she was told to come. She had no choice to go, not wanting to bring her friend down on her special day.
Today she had done everything right. She made sure everything was perfect and there wasn’t no imperfections that he would notice yet it wasn’t enough for him. It never was.
Which is why she’s holding back the frustrating tears while applying her mascara. She was going to push this all back and let herself loose, she’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow. Whether it was a beat down or a shout down.
*Bzz*
Y/n looks down at her phone to see a message from Bianca.
BB💋: hey girl, Rhea is goin be here. Hope you don’t mind🫶🏼
Y/n closes her eyes immediately and already can feel her wall breaking down as she blinks the tears away furiously. Rhea Ripley. The woman that would make her work life miserable yet she couldn’t help herself but fall in love with her.
She was so used to the teasing and the mean comments Rhea would give her that she didn’t even think about Rhea giving those feelings back. So instead, she pushed her feelings back and would give Rhea the same treatment she gives her, even if it hurt her.
She finishes up and changes in the bathroom, being as quiet as possible. She wears a black jumpsuit to cover up the other bruises that litter on her body and puts a green dress over it, pairing it with some ankle boots. She looks at herself and plasters a fake smile before nodding and dropping it. It hurt too much to keep it on. She grabs her phone and bag before opening the bathroom door as quietly as possible, taking a glance over at her bed where he is sound asleep as if he doesn’t ruin her life by existing. She walks out and goes over to the nightstand, grabbing his keys and rushing out the room and downstairs.
She gets outside and gets in the car, opening Bianca’s message and sending a message back.
me: It’s your birthday babe, I won’t be making any of my problems, a problem at your party.🫶🏼
•••
“you made it!” Bianca squeals as she rushes over to y/n and throws her arms around her, giving her a bone crushing hug that almost hurt.
It did hurt.
Y/n grunts and gives her a hug back, “I couldn’t miss your big day.” She grunts out and moves away quickly, the pain being unbearable.
“I had Rhea promise not to be mean today so you’ll be enjoying yourself with a Rhea mean free day.” Bianca smiles as she leads y/n over to the bar. “Now let’s party!”
Y/n smiles and follows Bianca towards the bar where there’s jell-o shots lined up, ready to taken. “Are we taking all of this?”
“uh yes girl, yes we are.” Bianca smiles and hands one over to her right as Rhea makes her way to them.
“Look who finally showed up.” Rhea looks y/n up and down.
“Rhea.” Bianca gives the woman a look, “Don’t start please.” Bianca pleaded.
“Listen to the birthday girl Rhea.” Y/n gives Rhea a side glance as she takes the jell-o down.
Rhea raises an eyebrow, “oh i am, just making sure you know the terms and conditions yourself.” Rhea grabs one of the jell-o shots as well, taking one down.
“i understand it better then you do.” Y/n narrows her eyes.
“Is tha-“
“Rhea and y/n. Y’all both better shut the hell up and enjoy yourselves and not fight.” Bianca gives them both a look that reminds y/n of a mother giving their children the mother stare when they act badly.
this is one of those moments.
“tell her immature ass that…” y/n mumbles under her breath, taking another jell-o shot.
“Is there a problem.” Rhea turns herself to y/n who simply stares at her.
“You’re the one that was coming at me the first chance you got.”
Bianca stares at both woman, annoyance clear in her face as she watches them go back and forth. Bianca knew about the secret love that Y/n had going on with the person she was arguing with right now. She always mentioned how she should just say something instead of covering up with pointless arguments. Her excuse would always be…
“I have a boyfriend.” Y/n frowns as she watches Bianca do her hair.
“A boyfriend you don’t even love?” Bianca questions with a raised eyebrow.
Silence.
Bianca did not know about what went on behind closed doors but she does know that y/n doesn’t love that man. Her love going to the one person that, to Bianca, hurts her more than anyone.
if only she knew, huh?
“Y’all got about 3 seconds to stop arguing before I whoop yalls ass.” Bianca gives them both looks at y/n immediately shuts up with a scowl, alongside Rhea. “Have fun. Enjoy this party and maybe even enjoy each other’s company. Argue tomorrow or something.” Bianca walks away, leaving both woman alone.
Y/n looks at Rhea up and down before completely walking away. She was not about to let someone ruin her time when she came here to let loose and let her troubles, trouble her tomorrow.
•••
Y/n felt the buzz going through her veins the more drinks she takes and the more she let herself loose. She could feel herself getting hotter as the party went on in full swing. She could feel herself slurring out words that aren’t even supposed to be said. She could feel herself get comfortable with the one person she didn’t need to see her like this.
Y/n spotted Rhea in the corner, by herself, as she watched everyone around her get drunk. Sober y/n would have laughed in her face and make fun of her being alone. Drunk y/n would be stupid and do the complete opposite.
“lookie lookie…” y/n stumbles over to Rhea, tripping over her feet as she lands next to where Rhea is sat. “you look extra pretty by yourself and when your not talking.” y/n slurs as she admires Rhea who is looking at her shocked and confused.
“You’re drunk…” Rhea scoots away from y/n who only scoots closer, eventually trapping Rhea in a corner.
“You’re pretty…” y/n smiles, “I like it when you keep your hair shorter, makes you so much hotter. Your long hair is pretty too but it can get in your face a lot which doesn’t let me see that pretty face.” Y/n rambles on.
Rhea feels her face burning up as she stares at the woman she’d always pick on, call her pretty. “you are drunk…” Rhea gently pushes Y/n away. “You need to go home.”
Y/n frowns and shakes her head, “I don’t like home…that’s not home.” Y/n lays her head down on Rhea’s shoulder, making her tense. “I hate it there…it’s so bad. He’s bad.” Y/n mumbles.
Rhea looks down at y/n and frowns, “what are you talking about?”
“he hurts me…” y/n puts her chin on Rhea’s shoulder and stares at her, “would you hurt me? I know you speak a lot of mean things but if we were together, would you use them physically?”
Rhea’s eyes widened as he pulls away from Y/n completely to grab her shoulders, “what does he do to you y/n?”
“you didn’t answer my questions,” y/n pouts.
“No…no I wouldn’t.” Rhea shakes her head immediately, “now answer my question.”
y/n blinks lazily, “what was your question?”
“what does he do to you?” Rhea asks again.
“hurts me.” y/n stares at Rhea and smiles, “your eyes are really pretty. I wonder what they look like when they’re in love…”
Rhea stares at y/n, “you already are…” she whispers before standing up abruptly. “We need to take you home…”
“Nah…i like it here.” Y/n stares at Rhea, “i like being here…with you. Even if your mean to me sometimes.”
Rhea feels a pang of guilt hit her as she stares down at y/n who is looking at her with such adoration that she never seen before until now. “I’m sorry…” Rhea finds herself apologizing as she sits down. “I don’t mean to be…”
Y/n looks at her and frowns, “then why do it? I only like when people are mean to me in bed, it’s hot.” Y/n shrugs as she grabs Rhea’s drink that she long ago abandon and drinks it. “I bet you’d be hot in bed. Are you?”

Rhea goes red immediately as she stares at y/n in horror. The way the events are going from serious and unserious is way too much for Rhea to handle yet she wants more of that unseriousness. She knows that it’d be best to get the serious answers when y/n is sober knowing it’d be wrong to find something out like this, while someone’s drunk.
Rhea clears her throat and takes away the drink y/n had in her hand, “you need to sober up….”
“You need to stop being mean to me.” Y/n leans towards Rhea, “I only accept mean sex.”
Rhea puts her face in her hands as she shakes her head, “you need to…keep those to yourself.”
“You’d be so much hotter if you’d keep your mouth shut…” y/n mumbles, “i’m lying by the way.”
Rhea looks at her amused before shaking her head, “C’mon.” Rhea stands up, “I’m going to take you to my place.”
“Are you gonna fuck?” Y/n finds herself jumping up almost immediately only to stumble a bit as she feels herself get dizzy.
Rhea quickly settles her and shakes her head, “I’d never do that when you’re like this…” Rhea leads y/n towards the exit of the club, already seeing the look she’s getting from Bianca herself.
“So you would fuck me?” Y/n asks as the wind hits her when both her and Rhea walk out the club.
“No comment…” Rhea mumbles as she leads her to her car and opens it up, forcing Y/n in and putting the seatbelt on her.
“My car…” Y/n points at her boyfriend’s car.
“You’ll pick it up tomorrow…” Rhea closes the door and jogs to the drivers side and gets in.

Y/n leans her head back and stares at Rhea as she starts the car and starts the drive to her home. Y/n admires Rhea’s side profiles, finding every perfection in her side profile.
“your perfect…” Y/n mumbles as she feels her eyes getting heavy.
Rhea looks over at her then back at the road, “go to sleep…”
“I love you…”
352 notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Note
Congrats on 40k Jade! Also hi, I hope you're having a great day (I'm really nervous this is my first time sending in a request I'm so sorry if I sound weird)
𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐨𝐤 —send me a hurt/comfort request for any reader and any character and I'll write a ficlet, 2k or less
Can I request a reader that has a bit of a temper and got told that no one would like her because of it so she's a bit insecure about herself? My favourite character is James so maybe with him or with Remus whichever you prefer (and they reassure her and it's awesome because your writing is just so awesome)
Congrats again <3
luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you so much, you didn't sound weird at all dw ♡ fem!reader
The day has been long, your feet dragging up the steps to Remus' flat. His door sticks and the only radiator that doesn't need bleeding is the one in his bedroom, so it's cold, and you're irked. You kick out of your pinching shoes and hang your jacket up, which falls on the floor. You pick it up and it falls again. Huffing, you put it on the sideboard and trudge down the hallway to Remus bedroom. 
"Hello, my lovely," he says without looking up. 
There's a notebook in his lap. He's wearing his reading glasses. If you were in a better mood you'd try to distract him by laying across his thighs. As it stands, you're fucking exhausted. You flop down in his bed and curl towards him where he's sitting against the headboard. 
"Tired?" he asks. 
"Mm." Tired isn't the right word, but the right word makes people cringe at you. 
Today has been awful and you hate the part of you that wants to rail about it. You can't help how you feel; this anger glows molten. It makes you hate yourself, which irks you worse. You grab one of his pillows and pull it against your chest to squeeze it until your arms hurt. 
"Bad day?" he asks, pen scratching.
You exhale. "A bit," you say into the pillowcase. 
"Sorry, dovey," he says. There's the sound of paper leaves catching against one another and the clink of a pen put away. "What did you say? I needed to finish writing that edit down before I forgot."
You're not mad at him in particular but your voice comes out tightly strung anyhow, "I said it was a bit of a bad day."
Remus hears your tone and refuses to skirt around the issue. Not from a want to be confrontational, but a direct way of going about things. "What, are you mad at me?" 
"No," you say, turning away from him. 
"You seem mad." 
"I think I am." 
"Well, now you don't sound mad," he says, dipping down to talk into the back of your neck. "Now you sound upset. Have I upset you?" 
"No, Remus," you say. Mad to sad to mad again, your shoulder and spine ache with rigidity. 
All his questions didn't make you mad, but you were mad to begin with, and so what might usually be very normal turns to irritating. In the moment, you've no hope of controlling it, and, not wanting to further subject Remus to any misdirected annoyance, you shuffle out of his reach. "I just need a minute," you say. 
Remus is used to your temper, though you often worry he'll grow tired of you and your big moods and throw in the towel. You count useless numbers in your head and curl your fists into balls until your bones feel like they're too big for your skin, wanting to deal with it alone. 
A minute or two later and Remus reaches for your side. "I was trying to lighten the mood, and it wasn't my best work," he says, tip of his thumb drawing semi circles into your shirt. 
Remus taking the blame for your emotions has you frowning, rabbit-holing into twisting thoughts. He's always been good for you and good to you, accepting of your short fuse. He's not always sunshine and lollipops himself. But, he's not angry half as often as you are. Does that bother him? People have said to you before that your temper will be the ruining of a good thing, that Remus won't want to deal with it. And it makes sense. 
You don't want to deal with it either. You don't really feel like you have much choice when it comes to being mad. 
"Sorry," you mumble. 
Mattress springs groan as he leverages himself closer to you. Familiar, his hand sneaks under your shirt to tickle the soft roll of your stomach. He draws a slow and winding line with no end nor goal in mind, uncaring of the pouch you get laying down. Remus doesn't really care about anything that could be marked superficial. It's one of the many reasons that he's markedly the best person you know; he loves everything that you hate about yourself without hesitation. Like your anger. 
"Do you want to set a rule?" he asks. 
"Pardon?"
"Humour me. Let's make a condition before we have this conversation." Remus stops drawing to slide his hand between your hip and the mattress, hugging you to him. "I'll assume you're not mad at me even if you sound angry, and you can assume I don't mind." 
"Do you mind?" you ask. 
"Well, I don't love when you're angry, but I know it isn't at me so it won't matter." 
Reassured enough to face him, you meet his eyes. 
"I know I have a tendency to make it sound like I'm angry at you when I'm really mad at someone else," you say. 
"That's not true. And I ask, don't I? If I think you're mad at me?" Remus' already dulcet voice drops to a murmur, words said slowly and with as much care as a person can put into words alone, "I don't know why you feel like you're such a bad person for being angry." 
"Because it's all the time," you say. Your throat burns with the effort that it takes to stay intelligible. 
"It's not all the time." 
"It's often, and it's not fair to you." 
"It's not fair to take it out on other people, and I promise you I'd let you know if you were doing that. So… could you just tell me why you're mad? Without worrying I'll take it personally." 
"It's not about taking it personally, I don't want you to take it personally, but it's just– it's just ugly, isn't it?" 
Remus frowns. "Honestly? I don't think so. You have to be angry sometimes. Everyone gets angry and those feelings need somewhere to go, or it'll eat you up inside and make you bitter instead. Like… okay, he'll forgive me for telling you this, but Sirius used to get into these awful angry tirades where he'd shout at nothing, you know? And I hated seeing him do it, but I wasn't sitting there thinking he was ugly for it. I just kind of hated that something was able to occupy him so heavily. And that's how I feel about it when it happens to you, dove." 
"He used to?" you ask, the bridge of your nose flat to his knee. 
"Yeah, he did." Remus pushes your shoulder flat to the bed beneath you and leans in to give you a kiss. The corner of your mouth takes the brunt of it. 
"Did you kiss him like this, or–" 
Remus laughs and hugs you, "A discussion for another day," he murmurs. He gives you a last kiss and squeeze and then sits up. "So shout at me." 
"I don't want to shout at you." 
"You know what I mean. Tell me what pissed you off today." 
"Are you sure?" you ask. 
"Yeah, I'm sure, I like the way your eyes look anyways, when you get riled up." Remus finds your hand to hold. "Tell me, dove. I'll be angry with you."
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unoislazy · 6 months
Text
Masterlist
Oldest to newest
(The only things out of order are the Headcanons which can all be found at the same spot, specifically for BES)
If I did it correctly you should be able to click the underlined places and they’ll send you right to the story!
Special Information
Request Information
Y'all will never believe what I forgot to add
RDR 2
How To Aim
Arthur Morgan x Reader
One Part
Th actual fic that started it all
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HTTYD
Question? What Question?
Hiccup x Reader
Part 1
Word Count: 1.2k
Summary: Hiccup accidentally lets it slip that his father is expecting him to ask someone a question. Who could that someone be… and what’s the question?
Part 2
Word Count: 1.1k
Summary: You and Hiccup go out to figure out where that smokes coming from. You decide to return back to Berk to tell Stoick what you saw. However, Stoick had other plans in mind.
Somethings Off About That Boy
Hiccup x Reader
Part 1
Word Count: 1k
Summary: Hiccup has always been weird but lately he’s been acting… weirder than usual. What could he be hiding? Maybe you should try to find out on your own. Who knows, maybe he’s just going to the woods to make weird outfits.
Hiccup Haddock Headcanons
Word Count:459
Hiccup x reader headcanons : just general ones, no specific focus.
What Can Never Be
Hiccup Haddock x Reader
One Part
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: You and Hiccup fight together during the battle against Drago Bludvist, what could go wrong?
Warning: a bit of angst
Trapped With You
Hiccup x Reader
One Part
Word Count: 3.4K
Warnings: if you’re prone to second hand embarrassment this one’s gonna be a doozy
A Dragon Trappers Fate
Eret son of Eret x Reader
Part 1
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: You’re forced to tag along on the quest to find Hiccup after he went off, determined to find Drago. While you there you happen to stumble across a certain dragon trapper. You feel… weird when you look at him. Why?
Part 2
Word Count: 1.7k Words
Summary: you thought you’d only have to see Eret once and never again, that way that weird feeling you got when you looked at him would disappear. Well, turns out you need him again so you an find out where Drago Bludvist is located. No one better to interrogate than a dragon trapper.
Just Talk To Me!
Hiccup x Reader
One Part
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: You and Eret have gotten pretty close due to your constant fighting practice. Of course, a certain chief isn’t too happy about it but he has a bit of trouble trying to tell you this.
The Outsider
Hiccup Haddock x Reader
(Shocker I Know)
Part 1
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: You wound up on the shores of Berk after something… had happened to you. Thankfully someone had found you and reported your presence to the Chief.
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Blue Eye Samurai
Spar With Me
Mizu x Reader
Part one
Word Count: 2.7k
Part Two
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: Not much sparring actually happens this time. But you still somehow wind up in an embarrassing position.
Disclaimers: light language, has not been proofread, shorter and way more embarrassing than the last chapter
Part Three
Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: after dealing with a situation in town, Mizu helps you calm down a bit.
Disclaimer; a small bit of violence
Healing Takes Time
Injured! Mizu x Reader
One Part
Word Count: 4.9k
Summary: you’re just a simple healer minding your business, avoiding a fight that had broken out along your street when suddenly an extremely wounded strange man ends up at your door.
Disclaimers; very soft angst, nothing too bad.
Part Two
Jealousy Looks Good On You
Mizu x Jealous!Reader
One Part
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.
Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️
'Til The Caged Bird Sings
Mizu x Mixed! Fem! Reader
Part One
Part Two
Word Count: 3.9k
Content Warning: Contains violence and mentions of SA
Part Three
Cw: A bit bloody, mentions of SA
Headcannons
Mizu Dating Headcanons
Mizu Fluff Headcanons
Jealous Mizu Headcanons
BES Characters and pets
BES College Au
NSFW Mizu Headcanons
Fucking Brat
Mizu X reader
Part One
Disclaimer: light cursing obvious
Heated but no NSFW
Your Touch
Mizu x Reader
One Part
I lied, here's
Part Two
Fem! Reader
a bit heated, but doesn't go all the way
I Am No Coward
Mizu x Fem! Reader
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Art
Mizu Drawings 1
Mizu Drawings 2
Mizu Drawings 3
Mizu Drawings 4
Mizu Drawings 5
Mizu Doodle (w/ Progress picture)
Mizu Drawings 6
Mizu Drawings 7
Mizu Drawings 8
Mizu Drawings 9
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deerlottie · 3 months
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🦌– mean girl! lottie
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NSFW! mean!lottie, pathetic!reader, dubcon, mentions of blackmail, use of the word pet, strap on use (reader receiving)
your classmate lottie had invited you over to her house to study the other day and you don't know why you agreed. i mean, you barely know the girl. and now that you think about it, the only class you two share is ceramics, and that doesn't require any studying at all so why did you agree? maybe it was because she did that attractive head tilt thing while pouting at you, saying how she didn't wanna be alone on a friday night anyway, or maybe it was because she was also running her hands up and down your arm, making your brain all fuzzy that caused you to immediately agree.
so here you are, standing awkwardly in her room. the first thing you notice is how pink it is. everything down to the carpet is all different shades of pink. she turns around and looks at you expectantly, raising an eyebrow.
"your room's very...pink." you compliment, hoping that's what she wanted to hear.
"thanks," she responds, bouncing up and down on her heels. "i'm gonna go get something to drink. you want anything?"
"oh, uh, no. i'm good, thanks."
she hums and nods. as she walks past you, your shoulders bump which causes goosebumps to rise on your body. you turn to watch her leave but she stops in her tracks and makes a sound of surprise. "oh! i forgot - don't touch anything. i'm serious." she deadpans, and her tone of voice makes you tense up, too scared to move a muscle.
"yeah, mhm, got it." you nod intently, hands moving flat against your sides.
lottie eyes you up and down with a look of contempt and humphs, walking out of her room and heading down to the kitchen. as soon as you feel like she's out of earshot, you let out a sigh of relief. god, she's so scary sometimes.
she's never been directly mean towards you at school, but she's never been exactly nice either. at times, you'd find her and her entourage giggling and pointing at you during class, and when you'd make eye contact with her she'd wink and wave to you. it felt like you were in high school again and you hated it.
you scratch your neck and place your backpack down, looking around her eye-straining room. as you scan the room, your eyes land on something that looks out of place in her clothes pile. you walk closer and your eyes widen at what you see - a light pink jelly dildo.
it looks poorly hidden among her shirts and pants like she was planning on using soon. or had already used it. you blush at the thought and shake your head to rid them.
you can't help but reach out to take the pink dildo, chuckling lightly as you inspect it. of course, her own toys would have to match her room. you suddenly feel like a perv and go to place it back but the most embarrassing thing happens.
you hear lottie gasp from behind you and your heart sinks. you turn around and stand up, trying to stammer out an apology with her dildo still in hand. tossing it on her bed like it burned you, you wipe your sweaty palms on your shirt and hoarsly speak. "i-im so sorry, lottie. i-i didn't me-"
"i really should've hidden it better..." she interjects, like it's not a big deal. she sets her drink down on her nightstand and you watch in horror as she strolls over to the bed, picking the toy back up. "do you like it?"
you freeze. what? is she serious right now? your mouth opens and closes, unable to speak. you jerk your head as if to say "what the fuck is going on?"
she giggles at your silence and walks towards you. oh no. she still has the dildo in hand and your eyes keep glancing at it. you step back in fear but she has the upper hand and corners you against her dresser.
"what's wrong, you little perv? can't even look me in the eye?" she husks out, her words sending shivers down your spine. you have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering as she leans in closer, her knees touching yours.
lottie places the pink toy next to your hands that are gripping the dresser and sighs. "i bet you want me to use it on you, hm?" she asks, one of her fingers coming up to caress your chin.
you shake your head no, feeling your blush growing tenfold. you wish you could just crawl into a hole and die from how humiliated you are.
"no?" lottie says while chuckling. "then i guess i'll just have to tell everyone what a perv you are. coming into my room to find my toys." she tilts her head, smirking wickedly at you. "would you like that?"
your eyes widen at her words and you let out a scared squeak. "n-no! please!" you shake your head profusely, pleading with her. a cold sweat starts dripping down your body as you imagine the whole school knowing what you did, even if it was accidental.
"then you'll let me fuck you with it, understood?" she questions you, but it sounds more like a demand like she wouldn't take no for an answer. you nod your head pathetically, desperate to make her happy.
"good pet." lottie praises you, and your knees nearly buckle underneath you. she giggles at the feeble look on your face and cups your cheek before tugging you in for a hot kiss. her tongue's already trying to make its way into your mouth and you let it in. as it explores your mouth, she pulls you by your shirt over to her bed and spins you around to push you onto it. "stay. and strip."
you falter for just a second before you do what she says like an obedient pet. she rummages through her closet and takes out a harness, walking over to the dresser to attach it to the dildo she's about to fuck you with.
lottie rids her clothing as well and your mouth waters at her body - her perky tits, her trimmed pubic hair, her abs. you gulp as she makes eye contact with you when putting the harness on, feeling your clit throb.
she tightens it to her liking and smirks as she walks over to the bed, climbing towards you. she hovers over you, sitting on your lap and you feel the silicone cock rest on your stomach. lottie starts kissing your neck, grasping your chin to move your head to the side for a better angle.
as she bites down on your pulse point, she grinds into your lap, causing you to whine out. "ffuck, lottie." you feel her smirk against your skin, goosebumps arising.
one of her hands comes down to swipe at your pussy, collecting your wetness on her fingers. she brings it up to her mouth, making a show of licking it off. "mhm. even better than i imagined."
you dont have time to question what she means before she aligns the head of the dildo against your clit. your hands fly to her shoulders and you groan, hips lifting to try and chase her cock as she pulls away.
"oh, now you want it?" she says darkly, criticizing you.
you've given up all self-respect and desperately hump the air for any sort of friction. she laughs at you mockingly and slaps your cunt, making you cry out in pleasure. "please, lottie," you beg, "anything, i'll do anything, just please f-"
before you can finish your begging, she slams her faux cock into your soaping pussy, the immediate stretch sending a pleasant burn throughout your lower belly. the grip you have on her shoulders tightens and she winces in pain, moving your arms to pin them over your head as she thrusts into you.
lottie's eyes are fixated on how your tits giggle while she pounds your pussy, leaning down to take a nipple into her mouth. you let out a groan as she laps at it, back arching into the touch. as she pulls back, her spit leaves a trail around your areola.
she watches your face as she snaps her hips hard, which makes your mouth open in an O shape, a tiny broken moan spilling out.
"i wonder what else i can get you to do with this whole blackmail thing..." she wonders, mostly to herself.
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sweetbbarnes · 10 months
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Perfect
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Bucky Barnes x Chubby!Reader
Summary: You get insecure about your body. Bucky’s not having that.
Warnings: insecure!reader; body shame; reader is mean to herself (but it’s okay ‘cause our boy makes sure to let her know that her mean thoughts are just bullshit); a tiny bit of angst; Bucky’s just a sweetheart; slightly suggestive at the and (you have to squint though); nothing special just a whole lot of fluff; lmk if I forgot something.
MY BLOG IS +18. MINORS DNI.
WC: 2k
I do not consent to have my fics translated, copied or posted to any other sites/apps. Don’t steal my work.
A/N: this is my first request and I absolutely loved the idea! I hope you like it @chocolateeclairsmoralbackbone <3
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If you like my story, please consider reblogging and/or leaving feedback.
Everything started with a simple picture.
Your girlfriends wanted to know about the mysterious guy you’ve been dating for the past year and a half, and you also wanted to tell them, so you all met up for coffee. You didn’t mention the details about who he really is or his past, as he asked you not to, but you told them everything they wanted to know about the relationship – how’d you two met? Is he handsome? How did he ask you out? Are you guys serious? – and the conversation was great.
At some point, one of them suggested you take a picture, since the four of you almost never see each other. You weren’t feeling particularly pretty that day, but you also didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, so you posed for the damn phone.
As you were about to hit the “send” button to show Bucky the picture – ‘cause you two shared photos of everything you did during the day – you hesitated. You couldn’t help but notice how all your other friends looked so much thinner next to you.
I’ll just send the picture later, you thought. Later turned into never.
When Bucky stopped by to pick you up, he instantly noticed your mood, but when he asked, you just shrugged it off.
You’ve never been the “skinny girl,” even when you first met Bucky. But since you started dating him, you did notice a few extra pounds on your body. It became evident as your favorite jeans started feeling snug and some of your old shirts went to the bottom of your wardrobe since they no longer hid the belly that was now more pronounced.
But that picture lingered in the back of your mind, gnawing at your self-esteem and fueling your insecurities. It became a constant reminder of the fact that Bucky, that walking Greek god of a man, could very easily find someone prettier than you.
Your doubts and insecurities grew more and more everyday, causing you to withdraw. You became distant, avoiding Bucky’s touch, covering your body with oversized clothes, never sending him pictures anymore, calling it a night before your kisses and caresses could escalate to a situation where you’d have to be completely exposed to him. None of this went unnoticed by the soldier, but everytime he asked you’d shrug it off as if he was overthinking things.
The breaking point arrived on a particular evening in Louisiana. Sam invited both of you to join his family for lunch, which eventually led to everyone deciding to go for a swim. As you went upstairs to change into your bikini, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection for God knows how long. Your eyes trailed up and down your body, those doubts coming to the surface every time you looked at how your thighs glued together, almost like if they were competing for space, or how your stomach was accentuated by the lack of more clothes, or how the fabric of the bikini was so stretched around your curves that it could easily rip. You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face until Bucky opened the door, calling for you.
He had noticed something was off a long time ago, but today was even harder for him to let it go. He thought this trip would be good for you, you loved every time he brought you here, but when you barely touched your food and didn’t go play with Sam’s nephews like you always do, he started to worry even more. You, obviously, denied every time he asked if something was wrong. But when you took more than twenty minutes to change into your bikinis, he couldn't take it anymore. 
As soon as Bucky opens the door and sees you quickly cover yourself with the beach robe as tears streamed down your face, his heart breaks a little. Coming closer, he asks once again what’s wrong.
“Everything’s fine,” you evade the question one more time, and the way you hunch your shoulders, as if trying to make yourself smaller, makes his chest ache.
His thumbs graze above your cheeks, touching you softly to not startle you. He brushes your tears away, though your eyes remain glossy. Then his fingers trail down your arms until he’s squeezing your elbows, gently coaxing you to let go of the robe and reveal yourself. But you only clutch your fingers tightly to the fabric, denying his silent request.
“You won’t let me see you, doll?” He asks, his voice soft, though you can notice the hurt in his words. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” You reply instantly, biting your lower lip. 
He calls your name softly, but you don’t answer. You know you and Bucky promised to always tell each other things, but what if you tell him about your insecurities and he agrees with them? What if finally verbalizing your doubts about your body made him realize all of them are true and then he leaves you?
With a mix of uncertainty and concern, he continues. "Is it me? Am I the problem?"
"What?" Your head snaps towards him, surprise evident in your eyes. "No, you're not– what makes you think that?"
"You've been acting distant lately. You won't let me touch you, or see you. You're always sad," he explains, his words pouring out in a rush. "You've barely looked at me or touched your food today. I know you, I can see something's wrong, but every time I ask you don’t tell me anything." His voice quivers with a mix of frustration and hurt. "Do I not make you happy anymore? Do you want to break up with me? Please, tell me something."
His last words strike a chord within you, awakening a pang of guilt and realization. You’re not sure if it is the sadness in his beautiful blue eyes, the pain in his voice or the raw vulnerability he’s displaying, but something tugs at your heartstrings.
"Bucky, you're not the problem, okay?" you assure him, your voice laced with sincerity and frustration. "It's just... hard to explain."
"Then what is it?" he pleads, desperation seeping into his tone as his hold on your elbow becomes a little stronger, like he’s unconsciously clinging to you. "What's wrong, doll? You're my... you're my everything. Just tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."
“You can’t fix it,” you whisper.
"Try me," he replies without hesitation, you don’t know if it’s out of his natural stubbornness or just his current desperation to make you happy again. Maybe both.
You stop for a moment. How do you even begin?
"It's just... my thighs," you finally managed to utter. You huff, frustrated with your struggle to articulate your feelings.
"Your... thighs?" he repeated, confusion clouding his face for a moment. "Is there something wrong with them?"
"Yes, there is, Bucky! There's something wrong with all of me! I’m fat!" you exclaim, in a lack of words to describe your insecurities. You step away from him and squeeze your eyes shut, wishing you could disappear. "And my thighs are so gross, and my stomach, and... ugh!"
His brows furrow, a mix of concern and confusion etched on his face. Is he really hearing what he thinks he's hearing?
Each word escapes your lips with a tinge of sadness and defeat. "You're so handsome, and your body... I just don't understand why you're with me."
For a moment, Bucky stands there, processing your words. Then, without hesitation, he steps closer to you, his touch once again finding its way to your skin, trailing up and down your arms. "Look at me," he pleads gently, his tone laced with kindness. When you don’t comply, he insists, “baby doll, look at me.”
Reluctantly, you open your eyes, meeting his gaze.
His voice is filled with affection as he whispers, “I love you, all of you.”
A wave of memories floods your mind. You remember the countless times you whispered those exact same words to Bucky, showering him with reassurance when he was still self-conscious about his arm and scars and his past. You remember how you whispered sweet nothings into his ear, slowly crushing his insecurities until he began to believe you. And he remembers it all too, now’s his turn to remind you of his love. He places a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips trailing down to your temple and then your cheek, where he kisses the remaining tears away.
"You want to know why I'm with you?" he asks, a serious undertone in his voice, his eyes sparkling with genuine adoration. "Among other things, because you make me happy. Even when I thought there was no more happiness left for me in this world." Then, a playful smirk tugs at his lips. “And because you're hot."
"Don't lie–" you start to protest, but he interrupts you, pointing out the obvious.
"I'm not lying," his grip on your arms is firm but gentle as he forces them away from your body, allowing the beach robe to open slightly. You open your mouth to protest, but he’s quick to silence you. "Shh. Let me appreciate my girl," he scolds playfully, his eyes roaming all over your body with admiration. "So beautiful. So fucking sexy. Look at you."
A warm flush spreads across your cheeks as Bucky's words sink in.
“I mean, you seriously believe all those mean things you just said about yourself?” He sighs, shaking his head, and then surprises you by dropping to his knees before you.
Bucky Barnes, on his knees, for you.
His hands find their place on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. "You mean this belly right here and those thighs, they're the problem?" he teases, emphasizing his words by holding and squeezing the areas he mentioned. 
A mischievous smirk finds its way to his lips. Then, with a mixture of tenderness and playfulness, he starts placing kisses and little bites on your stomach and thighs, eliciting a weak giggle from you. The touch of his lips awakens a warmth within your chest, and for the first time in weeks you feel genuinely loved.
“I think I’ve been doing a poor job as your boyfriend if you think you are anything but the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says between kisses. “But in case you haven’t noticed,” he squeezes your hips firmly, but not enough to hurt, “these thick thighs, your perfect belly? Those are the best fucking things about you, baby. You have no idea how much I love them,” he affirms, his voice laced with conviction.
You bite your lower lip, finding it hard to completely believe his words.
Getting back on his feet, he cups your face between his hands, demanding your attention, and asks seriously, "you hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah. I hear you," you respond, your voice tinged with the tiniest bit of hope.
"You're perfect. My perfect, beautiful, sexy doll. Alright?" he asserts, his tone gentle yet firm.
You nod, the sadness and the doubts no longer clouding your eyes.
Without any warning, he smacks your ass, and you yelp, your widen eyes snapping at him just to see that mischievous grin playing on his lips.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to show you how sexy you are later. But right now we have a party to go back to, yeah?” He lifts one eyebrow.
You smile at the promise and nod again. Satisfied, Bucky steps behind you, removing your robe. When he’s done, he lightly taps your thigh three times, silently asking you to move. “C’mon, baby, they’re waiting for us.”
As you walk back to your friends, Bucky’s body glued to your back, those insecurities slowly fade away. Maybe you’re not the skinniest of girls, but you know now that the same way you love Bucky’s scars, he adores and cheriches every single curve of yours. And, honestly, that’s what matters to you.
829 notes · View notes
sluttywonwoo · 5 months
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instead of you [part thirty-four] || l.mh
pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 
warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni ; 18+)
word count: 3.8k
a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!
additional smut warnings: protected sex, public(ish) sex
“Were you able to get some rest?” Jisung asked, hand in yours as you walked through the airport together. 
“Not much,” you admitted. 
“Thankfully, I don’t think we’re doing anything today. We can just crash when we get to the hotel.”
“Okay.”
Jet lag was hitting you particularly hard. Oahu was a whole eighteen hours behind Bali, meaning you were technically in yesterday. Everyone else seemed to be handling it fine but maybe that was because they hadn’t ruined their relationship with their best friend by sleeping with his brother. 
It was midday and already hot as hell. You waited outside with the Hans while Dom filled out the paperwork for rental cars. He called Minho inside to sign a waiver that allowed him to be the driver of the other car. Minho was the only one of the four of you who was old enough to legally drive a rental car and he rubbed it in the rest of your faces with a shake of the keys once he rejoined your group. 
 “Follow us to the resort,” Dom instructed Minho. “I’ll send you the address in case you lose us.”
You climbed into the backseat with Jisung and slumped over on his shoulder. You tried to stay awake as Minho drove through the island but your eyelids were feeling heavy and the winding mountain roads weren’t helping. 
“Are we not staying in Honolulu?” you asked, watching the road signs zoom past. 
“We’ll take a day trip over there but my parents wanted to stay at Ko’Olina again because they liked it so much last time,” Jisung explained. 
“Right, I forgot that you guys have been here before.” 
“I try not to think about it.”
Your time in Hawai’i was being split between two islands: Oahu and Kauai. In Oahu, you were staying in separate hotel rooms, and in Kauai, everyone was sharing a condo again. 
It was nice to be able to have your own space but it also meant that there really wasn’t a way to avoid Jisung. You were kind of stuck with him. At least he was speaking to you again. He’d had some time to cool down so he wasn’t as angry but you could tell that he didn’t particularly want to spend time with you either. 
You were stuck at a crossroads in that respect. You weren’t sure how to mend things with him but you knew you wanted to. You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way. He had been pretty clear the night that he found out about you and Minho that he wanted nothing to do with you outside of your already agreed-upon deal. But that had been in the heat of the moment. You had tried extinguishing any flicker of hope that threatened to engulf you in order to protect yourself from being hurt again, but it was getting harder and harder to do the more time you spent with him. 
Sometimes it felt like nothing had changed. There were fleeting moments shared between just the two of you when there was no one around to pretend for that made you think your friendship might still be salvageable. But they never lasted long. They were lapses in Jisung’s judgment, when he would accidentally let his guard down, acting like you were still those kids you had been back at school, like you were still his favorite person. 
He ordered room service for the two of you and you ate in relative silence. When the tension became unbearable you turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, ultimately deciding on some show playing on The Food Network. Perfect vacation television. It was a rerun of Chopped. You could tell it was a rerun from the dated fashion choices and technology- not because you were an avid fan or anything, though you had seen your fair share of episodes by being best friends with a culinary student. Whenever you watched it together Jisung liked to play a game where he would invent his own dishes with the ingredients the contestants were given. 
“What would you make with that?” you asked, nodding at the screen, trying to lighten the mood.
He took a moment to think, mulling over the assortment of items in his mind. “Probably a salad of some kind since it’s the appetizer round. It’s a cop-out but I could make a dressing with that peanut brittle.”
You hummed in acknowledgment. “Knowing you, it would probably still taste good.”
“You have too much faith in me.”
“Or I just know you.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
-
Later that night, after you had both showered, you tried bringing up your conversation from the other day but Jisung shut you down entirely. 
“I don’t want to talk about this,” he mumbled, tossing one of the extra pillows from the bed onto the armchair a little harder than necessary. 
“But-”
“I’m just not ready yet,” he cut you off. “I... don’t want to say anything else I don’t mean. And I’m not ready to forgive you yet.”
There it was again, that stupid spark of hope struck like a match against the side of your heart. 
You nodded in understanding, biting your lip to keep from showing just how disappointed you were. 
It was a strange mix of emotions, hope and disappointment. They were complete opposites but somehow you were feeling them simultaneously. 
“O-okay,” you said shakily, watching as he climbed into bed. 
You moved to do the same even though it felt painfully awkward, how were you supposed to just go to bed after that? How did people in relationships do it? How did people just roll over and fall asleep like nothing had happened after an argument? 
As soon as you reached to pull the sheets back, fingertips brushing the fabric, your phone vibrated next to you on the bedside table. 
You glanced at the screen and saw that it was a message from Minho. He was asking you to meet him downstairs. It wasn’t that late but it was already dark and it had been a long day. What could he possibly want?
Jisung must have noticed the look on your face because he sighed and muttered “go” at you without meeting your eyes. 
“I, uh, I’ll be back. Later.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
You made sure to grab a room key on the way out and then hurried down the hall to the elevator, pressing the down button over and over again until it finally arrived at your floor. 
Minho was waiting for you in the lobby like he said he would be, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed impatiently. To your surprise, he smiled when he saw you. 
“What’s so important you couldn’t tell me over text?” you demanded in annoyance. 
Minho’s grin faltered but didn’t fall. He just eyed you with an air of amusement. “Who said I had something to tell you?”
“Why else would you make me come down here?”
He raised an arm, dangling the key to the rental car he had driven earlier that day. “Wanna get out of here?”
-
“Where are we going?” you asked. 
“Do you trust me?”
“Not particularly.”
Minho placed his hand over his heart and winced. “You wound me.”
“Just tell me where you’re taking me!”
“But that ruins the surprise!” he argued. 
“The surprise? It’s like eleven p.m. and I’m tired! Why are you dragging me out at this hour? Jisung’s already annoyed that I came down here to meet you in the first place.”
“How does he know?”
“Who else would text me at this hour?”
“Fair point. But are you just going to stand there and interrogate me all night or are we doing this?”
You huffed in frustration. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is!”
“Come on!”
Minho grabbed your hand before you could argue any further and dragged you out through the lobby into the parking lot. 
“So now you’re kidnapping me?” you exclaimed, tripping over your own feet.
Minho chuckled but still shot you a look of warning. “Keep your voice down! People are going to think you’re serious.”
“Yes, sir,” you deadpanned. 
“Stop trying to turn me on in public, you already have an unfair advantage.”
You weren’t sure how serious he was but you rolled your eyes anyway. You also didn’t know what he meant by the second part but you didn’t ask about that either. 
He didn’t let go of your hand until you reached the car. And even then, it seemed like he was hesitant to release you from his grasp, fingers lingering on your palm like he was afraid you’d run away the second he set you free.
But you climbed into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt without a second thought. A series of poor decisions had already led you here. What was a couple more?
Mostly, your curiosity is what drove you to get in the car with him. You figured you didn’t have much to lose at this point. You hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words to Minho in the last few days. You had assumed he’d want nothing to do with you after you fucked up his relationship with his brother-- then again, maybe he didn’t want anything to do with you and was only driving you somewhere where he could chew you out without anyone overhearing. Hell, maybe he was taking you out to a pier where he could push you in the water so that your body would never be found. 
No, he's too famous for that. He’d never get away with it. 
You were silent as Minho put the car in gear and backed out of the lot. As soon as he turned onto the main road he rolled the windows down, glancing over at you to make sure it didn’t bother you. 
“Is this okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
You watched him mess with the radio dial until a signal from a local station was picked up. Once he found something, he adjusted the volume so that you could hear the music over the sound of the rushing wind, and then he reached across the center console, hand outstretched. The gesture caught you off guard, and you were unsure whether or not you should take it. You figured it would be more awkward if you left him hanging so you looked away and slipped your fingers between his, relaxing into the familiar feeling. 
The roads were mostly empty. Everything was already closed for the night. Eventually, Minho merged onto the highway, heading east. 
“Do you know where you’re going?” you asked twenty minutes later when he still hadn’t taken an exit. You were beginning to suspect that he didn’t really have anyplace in particular in mind, that he was just taking you for a late night drive, which would have been fine. You liked long drives too. But he had made it all seem so mysterious and the anticipation was killing you. 
“Of course I do, how dare you doubt me!”
“It’s just that you don’t have a GPS on or anything!”
“I’ve been here before,” he reminded you.
“Yeah, one time three years ago.”
“That’s all I need,” he assured you. “And if you pay attention to the road signs you don’t even need to memorize the route.”
“You sound like my dad,” you mumbled. 
“Your dad must be a very talented navigator,” Minho said decisively, complimenting himself.
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but he didn’t fail his driver’s test- what was it, four times?”
“Low blow,” he chided and shook his head. 
“You needed to be humbled.”
Comfortable silence resumed between the two of you as Minho continued driving. He got off the highway a few miles later and wove through town before finally turning onto a rocky uphill path. The radio signal weakened almost immediately, static interrupting the music that had been playing. He turned the volume down out of instinct.
“Remind me, do you get carsick?” Minho asked suddenly, like it was an afterthought that had just occurred to him. 
“Um, sometimes? Why do you ask?”
“These roads are winding,” he explained, “they might make you nauseous. Just try to look straight ahead. Don’t look at your phone.”
“I haven’t looked at my phone this entire time!”
“Well don’t start now.”
You braced yourself for the twists and turns of the road but it was difficult to anticipate where they would be with how dark it was. The headlights of the car were the only source of light on the gravel road, everything else surrounded by shadows and silhouettes of trees.
Finally, just when you were starting to feel a little lightheaded, Minho pulled into a little lot on the side of the road. 
“Are we here?” you asked, squinting in the darkness to try and make anything out.
“Yup,” Minho answered with a smile.
He turned off the car, letting the headlights dim.
“Come on!”
“We’re getting out?” you exclaimed. 
“Would you just trust me?” 
Sighing, you kicked open the passenger side door and climbed out of the car. Minho rounded the back to meet you on your side, blanket in hand. 
“Where are we?”
“Listen.”
You closed your eyes and did as you were told, waiting for any sort of clue as to where you were. In the distance, you could hear waves crashing against the shore. The salt in the air and the sound of breeze rustling through palm fronds only confirmed what you already knew. 
“You took me to the beach?”
“Follow me.”
Minho took your hand and led you along the sandy path down to the shore. You toed off your shoes and held them in your free hand as you walked. The place was practically empty. The only other signs of life were the flames from a bonfire about half a mile down the beach.  
Minho used the flashlight on his phone so you could see where you were going, keeping you steady when you tripped over your own feet in the uneven sand. 
“Careful there,” he chuckled. 
He picked a spot that wasn’t too far from the path, something that put a little more distance between you and the bonfire. 
“Is this okay?”
“Seems as good a place as any,” you said and shrugged. 
Minho laid out the blanket and motioned for you to sit on it. The sand underneath the fabric was cool, having long lost hold of the heat from the sun. It molded to the shape of your body as you chose a comfortable position. 
You could feel Minho’s presence beside you but neither of you moved closer to the other. You figured he hadn’t brought you all the way out here to sit in silence, but you didn’t want to be the one to prompt the conversation. He was the one who was so insistent on coming, he could make the first move. 
He did, after several more moments. You waited patiently, allowing him to collect his thoughts. His eyebrows were knit together, eyes downcast, as if he were having an internal argument with himself. Then, his expression softened and he met your gaze, any trace of conflict seemingly absolved.
“You look really pretty.”
You scoffed. “You can’t even see me that well.”
“Speak for yourself, I can see you perfectly.”
“It’s dark out!”
“We have the moonlight.”
“Barely.”
“I think you need to get your eyes checked,” Minho teased. 
“Did you bring me out here just to make fun of me?”
“Yeah, are you not having a good time?” Minho asked. “Do I need to up my game?”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t grant him a response, instead pulling your knees to your chest so that you could rest your chin on them. 
“Do you like it? Here, I mean?”
You nodded. “It’s nice. Quiet.”
“Mhm.”
“But why this beach? I mean, we’re on an island, the whole place is beach, but you drove me all the way out here.”
“It’s usually pretty empty, especially at night.”
“And you know that because... you’ve taken lots of girls out here?”
“If you count my mum, then yes,” he said sarcastically. “I don’t exactly frequent the island of O’ahu.” 
“So you’re saying that if you did, you’d bring girls here all of the time?”
“Oh, totally. It’s how I’d seal the deal, like all the assholes in the movies.”
“By telling them they’re the first one you’ve ever brought here?”
“Exactly. But you know I’m telling you the truth because you already slept with me.”
You shoved him with a scoff, a little harder than you intended, making Minho fall back onto the blanket. 
“Hey! What was that for?”
“You know exactly what that was for.”
He grinned sheepishly and then stretched out the arm that was closest to you. “C’mon, then. Join me.”
You shifted a bit, moving further down on the quilt so that when you laid back Minho’s arm would slot perfectly under your neck. You curled up to him, slinging your own arm across his stomach. The rhythm of his breathing along with the sounds of the waves breaking against the shore was soothing. It was the most relaxed you’d felt in a long time. You were halfway to sleep when you felt Minho murmur something into your hair. 
“What?’ you asked groggily, blinking your eyes open. 
“The stars, look.”
You repositioned yourself a bit so that you could stare straight up at the sky to see what he was talking about, gasping quietly when you did.
It wasn’t as impressive as the night skies on the boat had been, you were much closer to civilization now, but it was still better than anything you’d ever gotten to see back home. It was as if the sky was dripping with diamonds, stars hanging out of reach like they were on display at a store far out of your budget. 
“It’s gorgeous.”
“I thought you might like it,” Minho mused, “I’m glad the clouds cleared so you could see them.”
“It’s nice here even without the stars,” you assured him. “Though, they’re definitely a highlight.”
Minho turned his head to look at you, smiling. Your eyes had adjusted slightly, allowing you to see the details of his face. 
You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but the next thing you knew you were kissing him. Minho cupped your face with both hands and pressed his tongue against the seam of your lips, silently begging you to open your mouth. You did, gasping when he got impatient and nipped at your bottom lip.  
You took the initiative this time and rolled on top of him, working your hands under his t-shirt to feel him up. 
“Missed this,” Minho sighed, “missed you.”
“It’s only been like three days!” 
“Way too long, if you ask me.”
You rolled your eyes but let the comments fuel your ego anyway.
He matched your pace and dropped his hands from your face to let them roam your body. It didn’t take long for them to find your tits, fingers brushing over your nipples underneath the fabric of your shirt. You rolled your hips against his, already able to feel that he was half hard through his sweats.
Minho groaned and broke away from kissing you to catch his breath, tilting his head back and swallowing hard. His hips stuttered underneath you, encouraging you to keep going. You took over and began kissing your way down his neck. 
“Do you have a condom?” you asked breathlessly
You knew you were acting desperate but it’s because you were desperate. You were aching for him and your panties were beginning to feel uncomfortably sticky. 
“Are you sure?” Minho asked, not answering your question. 
“Yes, fuck, where are they?”
He propped himself up on his elbows and nodded down at his pocket. “I still have a few in my wallet.”
You sat up a little and brought one of your hands down to his pants, brushing your palm over his erection before fumbling for his wallet in his pocket. 
“You’re a menace,” he hissed as he kicked his head back. 
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”
You retrieved a condom and slid the wallet back into his pocket, tearing the foil wrapper open while you tried to get his pants off at the same time. 
“Need help?”
“No, I got it,” you muttered.
You were able to get Minho’s pants down far enough to get his dick out and put the condom on him before pushing your own pajama shorts and panties to the side so you could ride him without having to take them all the way off. 
“Wait, I haven’t even fingered you or anything,” Minho interjected, putting a hand on your stomach to stop you from lowering yourself onto him. “It’ll hurt.”
“We don’t really have a lot of time,” you argued back, “I’m really wet already. You don’t need to.”
“Bullshit,” he countered in disbelief. 
You were starting to get annoyed. Why wouldn’t he just fuck you like you wanted? You could tell Minho was getting frustrated as well, confused as to why you were rushing into it.
“At least let me rub your clit a little first?” he pleaded. 
You wanted to tell him that it really was fine, that you’d just need a couple of extra seconds to adjust to his size, but he was already running a thumb over your pussy, feeling around for the spot that would make your knees buckle.  
“F-fuck,” you whispered when he found it, arching just slightly to press yourself into him further.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Minho asked, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. 
You couldn’t even deny it. “Yes.”
“Still gotta be quiet, though,” he reminded you, “don’t want to let those folks down the way know what we’re up to, huh?”
You nodded in agreement even though you had completely forgotten about the people having a bonfire on the beach. They were likely too far away to see the two of you in the dark, but you knew sound carried so you would still have to be careful. 
“Can you put it in now? Just want to feel you.” You threw in a pout at the end just for good measure, hoping that would be enough to get you what you wanted. 
Minho nodded and put a hand on either of your hips to help you. You sighed in relief as you sank down on him, finally feeling full. You were able to take him all at once but you did need more time to adjust to having him inside of you, to which Minho cockily mouthed I told you so at you.
Once the discomfort ebbed away you leaned down and pressed your chest to his, resting your head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively as you started rocking yourself on his cock, trembling at just how deep he could get at this angle. 
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you mumbled. 
He carded a hand through your hair and cocked his head to the side. “What, having sex on the beach?”
“Mhm.”
“It’s a first for me too,” Minho admitted. 
“Better make it memorable then, right?”
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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