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#an expression of frustration and discomfort
ignitesthestxrs · 5 months
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there's something about the way people talk about john gaius (incl the way the author writes him) that is like. so absent of any connection to te ao māori that it's really discomforting. like even in posts that acknowledge him as not being white, they still talk about him like a white, american leftist guy in a way that makes it clear people just AREN'T perceiving him as a māori man from aotearoa.
and it's just really serves to hammer home how powerful and pervasive whiteness and american hegemony is. because TLT is probably the single most Kiwi series in years to explode on the global stage, and all the things i find fraught about it as a pākehā woman reading a series by a pākehā author are illegible to a greater fandom of americans discoursing about whether or not memes are a valid way of portraying queer love.
idk the part of my brain that lights up every time i see a capital Z printed somewhere because of the New Zealand Mentioned??? instinct will always be proud of these books and muir. but i find myself caught in this midpoint of excitement and validation over my culture finding a place on the global stage, frustration at how kiwi humour and means of conveying emotion is misinterpreted or declared facile by an international audience, frustrated also by how that international audience runs the characters in this book through a filter of american whiteness before it bothers to interpret them, and ESPECIALLY frustrated by how muir has done a pretty middling job of portraying te ao māori and the māoriness of her characters, but tht conversation doesn't circulate in the same way* because a big part of the audience doesn't even realise the conversation is there to be had.
which is not to say that muir has done a huge glaring racism that non-kiwis haven't noticed or anything, but rather that there are very definitely things that she has done well, things that she has done poorly, things that she didn't think about in the first book that she has tacked on or expanded upon in the later books, that are all worthy of discussion and critique that can't happen when the popular posts that float past my dash are about how this indigenous man is 'guy who won't shut up about having gone to oxford'
*to be clear here, i'm not saying these conversations have never happened, just that in terms of like, ambient posts that float round my very dykey dash, the discussions and meta that circulate on this the lesbian social media, are overwhelmingly stripped of any connection to aotearoa in general, let alone te ao māori in specific. and because of the nature of american internet hegemony this just,,,isn't noticed, because how does a fish know it's in the ocean u know? i have seen discussions along these lines come up, and it's there if i specifically go looking for it, but it's not present in the bulk of tlt content that has its own circulatory life and i jut find that grim and a part of why the fandom is difficult to engage with.
#tlt#the locked tomb#i don't really have an answer lmao this is more#an expression of frustration and discomfort#over the way posts about john gaius seem to have very little connection to the background muir actually gave him#like you cant describe him as an educated leftist bisexual man#without INCLUDING that he is māori#that has an impact! that has weight and importance!#that is a background to every decision he makes#from the meat wall to the nuke to his relationship with the earth#and it also has weight and importance in the decisions that muir makes in writing him#it is not a neutral decision that he's known as john gaius lmao#it's not a neutral decision that the empire is explicitly of roman/latin extraction#it's not even neutral that this is a book about necromancy#it's certainly not a neutral fucking decision that john was at one point a māori man living in the bush#when the nz govt decided to send cops in#like that is a thing that happens here! that is a reference to nz cultural and political events that informs john's character and actions#and with the nature of who john is in the story#informs the narrative as a whole#and i think the tiresome part of this experience is that#in general#americans are not well positioned to understand that something might be being written from outside their experience as a default#like obviously many many americans in online leftist & queer spaces are willing to learn and take on new information#but so much of the conversation starts from a place of having to explain that forests exist to fish
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queerbuckleys · 1 year
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Anyway, just a reminder, that having anon on is not an open invitation to bitch and moan in someone’s inbox 🩷
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sweetbabyrayray · 5 months
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are you safe and di dyou find somewhere to go? really worried about you being homeless.. did he kick you out just because you had trouble finding a job?? i cant believe he left you stranded in a whole nother country thats terrifying Dx
thank you for checking on me
i dont want to say too much about my situation now in case he sees this (unlikely, but just in case), but i am safer than i was. i am sleeping on a friend’s floor, essentially, with no money, car, or job. its not a good situation, but im not on the streets so i’m very grateful.
he kicked me out because there were challenges in our relationship and he didnt want to deal with them, essentially. one of these challenges was that i couldn’t find work and had to fear canada kicking me out of the country for it, so i was stressed a lot.
he basically would not tell me whenever i did something that hurt his feelings or he didnt like, and then would seethe for months until he had a list of things to seethe about that i was clueless of, got overwhelmed and angry with me and told me to leave. even though we had been planning to live together since 2020 and he welcomed me into his home, and even though i sacrificed everything i had to move countries (sold my car, donated half my stuff, spent thousands of dollars on travel expenses, etc).
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unkreativstermensch · 7 months
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"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“
"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.
Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"
At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."
Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.
He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“
Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?
"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“
Eddie blinks. "What?“
"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“
Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-
Steve takes another step back.
"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“
Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"
"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“
Oh.
Oh no.
Eddie fucked up.
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notafunkiller · 4 months
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tying you to me
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Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.
Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 5.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.
“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.
“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”
Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”
“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”
“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.
“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”
He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…
“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”
“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”
“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”
“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.
“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”
“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”
“Night...”
*
The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.
You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.
“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”
“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.
Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”
You shake your head weakly.
“Look, I-”
“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”
You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”
The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.
“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.
What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?
“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”
“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”
“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”
“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”
You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.
“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”
“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”
“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”
“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”
“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”
Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”
“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”
“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”
“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”
You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.
“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.
He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.
“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”
“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.
He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...
“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”
“Then what is it?” You're confused.
“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.
“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”
“I... I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Deal with this... with you.”
“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”
“I just... struggle with change.”
“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.
“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”
“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”
“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”
You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”
“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”
“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”
“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.
“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”
Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.
“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”
“W-what? No!”
“No?”
“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”
You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?
“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”
Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.
But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.
“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.
He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.
You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.
“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”
He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.
“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.
“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”
He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.
You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.
“For you. This is all for you.”
Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!
“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.
“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.
“James!”
But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.
You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.
He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.
You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.
“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.
He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.
“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.
“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.
“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”
You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.
“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.
“You didn’t take them off.”
“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”
You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.
“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”
You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.
“James-”
“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”
You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”
Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.
“Good boy.”
That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:
“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”
“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”
That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.
He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.
“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”
Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.
“You got a kink for my arm now?”
“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.
When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.
“You shave,” you say, surprised.
“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”
You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.
You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.
“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.
“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“W-what?”
“Hands behind your back.”
“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.
“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”
No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.
You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.
He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.
“Too tight?”
“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.
“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”
You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.
“Words, please.”
“Yes, James.”
“Good girl.”
You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...
You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.
“Are you clean? Anything-”
“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”
You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.
“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.
“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”
You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?
You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.
“Won’t the neighbor mind?”
“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”
You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!
“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”
You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.
He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.
“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.
“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”
“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”
“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”
“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”
You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”
You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.
“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”
He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.
That hot ass…
“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”
And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.
“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”
He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.
You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.
“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”
You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.
“J-James...”
He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.
“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.
“Barnes, you’re heavy!”
His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.
Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.
“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.
After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.
“Gonna buy some cream.”
You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”
Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”
“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.
“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.
“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
He doesn’t laugh.
“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”
“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.
“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”
“Put it on, it’s freezing.”
“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.
“On.”
“Fine!”
He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”
You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.
“Really?”
“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”
You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”
“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”
“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”
You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”
“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Me.”
“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”
“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”
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saraswritingtipps · 11 months
Text
Body language cheat sheet for writers
As a writer, understanding and incorporating body language into your storytelling can greatly enhance your characters and their interactions. Here's a cheat sheet to help you describe body language effectively:
Facial Expressions:
* Raised eyebrows: Surprise, disbelief, or curiosity.
* Furrowed brow: Concentration, confusion, or frustration.
* Smiling: Happiness, amusement, or friendliness.
* Frowning: Disapproval, sadness, or concern.
* Lip biting: Nervousness, anticipation, or tension.
Eye Movements:
* Eye contact: Confidence, interest, or honesty.
* Avoiding eye contact: Shyness, guilt, or deception.
* Narrowed eyes: Suspicion, skepticism, or concentration.
* Wide eyes: Shock, fear, or surprise.
* Rolling eyes: Exasperation, annoyance, or disbelief.
Gestures:
* Crossing arms: Defensiveness, disagreement, or discomfort.
* Nervous fidgeting: Anxiety, restlessness, or impatience.
* Pointing: Assertiveness, emphasis, or accusation.
* Open palms: Honesty, openness, or sincerity.
* Hand on chin: Deep thought, contemplation, or evaluation.
Posture and Movement:
* Slumped shoulders: Defeat, sadness, or fatigue.
* Upright posture: Confidence, attentiveness, or authority.
* Pacing: Restlessness, agitation, or contemplation.
* Tapping foot: Impatience, annoyance, or frustration.
* Leaning in: Interest, engagement, or curiosity.
Touch:
* Hugging: Affection, comfort, or warmth.
* Handshake: Greeting, introduction, or agreement.
* Patting on the back: Encouragement, praise, or camaraderie.
* Clenched fists: Anger, determination, or frustration.
* Brushing hair behind the ear: Nervousness, coyness, or flirtation.
Mirroring:
* When two characters unconsciously mimic each other's body language, it indicates rapport, connection, or empathy.
Nodding:
* A subtle nod can convey agreement, understanding, or encouragement.
Crossed legs:
* Crossed legs can indicate relaxation or a casual, nonchalant attitude.
Tapping fingers:
* Impatience, anticipation, or nervousness can be expressed through rhythmic finger tapping.
Hand on the chest:
* Placing a hand on the chest can convey sincerity, empathy, or a heartfelt emotion.
- Tilting the head:
* Tilting the head to the side can suggest curiosity, attentiveness, or interest.
Rubbing the temples:
* Rubbing the temples can indicate stress, fatigue, or a headache.
Chin stroking:
* Stroking the chin while in thought can portray contemplation, decision-making, or intellectual curiosity.
Arms crossed behind the back:
* This posture can indicate authority, confidence, or a composed demeanor.
Tilted body posture:
* Leaning slightly towards someone can suggest interest, attraction, or engagement in a conversation.
Biting nails:
* Nail-biting can reveal anxiety, nervousness, or tension.
Foot tapping:
* Rapid or impatient foot tapping can show agitation, restlessness, or eagerness.
Squinting:
* Squinting the eyes can signal suspicion, doubt, or an attempt to focus on something.
Shifting weight from foot to foot:
* Shifting weight can imply discomfort, unease, or anticipation.
Covering the mouth while speaking:
* This gesture can indicate hesitation, embarrassment, or the desire to hide something.
Remember that body language can vary across different cultures and individuals, so consider your character's background and personality while describing their movements. Additionally, body language is best used in combination with dialogue and internal thoughts to create a more nuanced portrayal of your characters.
Happy writing!
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opluffys · 1 year
Text
-
-
-nsfw/smut-
it was seemingly innocent in your eyes- but that was it, in your eyes. a simple touch from a man who hadn’t been him.
you’d been pressed against ghost, forced to sit still upon his lap, his thick cock deep within your cunt. his gloved hands stuck on your hips, gluing you to your spot.
“please, move,”
he ignored you, not even glancing in your very direction, he’s so mean. you couldn’t bear to sit still anymore, the stretch of him within you nearly tortuous. your hands had been attached to his clothed shoulders, your stature beginning to crumble as your mind had been focused on a single thing.
“simon, i’m sorry, please,”
he looked at you then, a thumb absentmindedly tracing gentle shapes into your naked hip. it had been a stark antithesis of what was his stare, harsh and cruel. he hummed, a teasing sound of thought, making you seem like he was actually contemplating your words.
“you don’t sound it.”
you reached to grasp at his balaclava, trying to pull it upwards before getting your wrist seized within his grasp. “please, please i am sorry, i’m sorry, simon.”
he brought your hand back to his shoulders before letting it go. he watched you, seeming to be unperturbed as your entire being began to lightly tremble, the feeling of his cock pressing right into your womb dizzying.
you attempted to lift your hips, desperate for any friction from him. but, his hands upon your body were unmoving, strong and set in stone on your bare skin. you worried your lip, truly not knowing what he’d wanted from you. your mind wasn’t working as it was supposed to, brain scrambled and broken.
“please, just move,” you felt the tears begin to form, becoming too heavy upon your lashes and cascading over your waterline.
you looked up at his eyes, honeyed and dark, full of desire and want. he was just as affected as you, wanting nothing more than to flip you over and fuck you until you had seen stars- he was just better at hiding it.
“so needy.”
you whined, hugging him closer and feeling his arm wrap around you, starting to lift you over him. dragging his thick and veiny cock out of your pussy agonisingly slow. you whimpered quietly, nails biting into his biceps. the two of you hadn’t even been on a mattress- fucking on your shared sofa. your jacket still on your shoulders, the urgent need to be buried in your heat taking over ghost’s senses. he’d pushed into your space and had you split open over his cock, wanting to have you moan and cry his name, but he remained unmoving.
but, with your cunt squeezing him so fucking tight- he groaned, a frustrated and gravelly sound, angered at the fact that he’d given in on his urges- primal and animalistic. you’d been easily manoeuvred, lifted like you were weightless, his dick pressing against your cervix, making you bite back a sound of discomfort.
“too much, hm?”
you nodded, the switch of pace from slow to quick making your surroundings fuzzy. again, you looked up at him, eyes expressive, telling you that he’d been smiling underneath that mask.
“take it.”
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vanderilnde · 2 months
Text
a more fleshed-out version from the third prompt of this post of mine.
cw for emotional manipulation, breaking in, stalking, smut, babytrapping, and dubcon to be safe
simon riley/reader
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Something is wrong. 
Your suitcase is halfway past the threshold of your front door, halfway past your new grave, when you notice the hum of salt and tobacco in the air. Discomfort licks your insides and binds to your skin so heavily that you begin to sweat. A tinny sound peals out as you rearrange your keys between your knuckles, clenching it, and step inside your flat. 
Your heels are at the foot of your shoe rack. Your coat isn’t where it’s supposed to be, crimped in a pool on the floor. Your framed photographs are all inched to the left—you know this because you committed their placement to your memory—because you feared this would happen.
Something is seriously, gravely wrong. 
You feel like you’re lost at sea. Dull-headed and impaired under the alluring melody of a blood-thirsty siren. Walking towards their call, your legs moving before your mind can, spit in the presentiment of fear the same way insects get caught in spiderwebs. Stuck, and about to be eaten.  
You trek further into your flat, following the telltale signs that someone has been here—is here. A general shift in air. The stench of stale herbs and metal. A trail of silt on your hardwood floors, that of which could only be caused by certain mud-clogged boots tracking into your flat.
Here, you pause. On the threshold of your kitchen. Your stomach turns inside out and if it weren’t for your ribs, your heart would have burst out of your chest. 
It’s like you’re walking on glass. Every thin sliver that pokes your skin, invading you, is a splinter of fear. And it also makes it so that you can’t walk away—you’re frozen in place, watching him above your stove, setting a kettle to boil. 
He hears your squeak. Simon turns around, cotton-plated in his civvies, and hums. 
“Welcome home, Love.” 
The moisture leaves your mouth and rushes to your eyes. A film of dew materialises on top of your waterline. It’s thick and pearlescent and clouds your vision, turns Simon into an incorporeal blob in your vision, turning him into a trick of your eyes that you hope will go away after you blink.
He doesn’t.
Instead, Simon rests himself against your kitchen counter. He crosses his tattooed arms over his chest, tilting his head, and bends his lips into an unseemly smile.
“How was your friend’s place?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?” You try getting your anger across, but your voice betrays your emotions. It’s heavily distorted by fear, waning, so much so that it makes him blandly chuckle. Like he can smell the terror roiling off of you. Like he feeds from it.
“How did you get in?”
Simon shrugs. “I’ve got a copy of the key.” 
“I changed the damn locks.”
“I got new ones,” he says.
“We broke up.”
“You broke up with me,” Simon snarls. “When I was at my fuckin’ lowest. You broke up with me and I didn’t agree to tha’ shit.”
“Simon–” a gust of disbelief cuts your sentence short. You grip your hair at its roots, tugging it, twisting it, coiling your face in frustration. “Simon, you need to leave.”
“You’re talkin’ like that ‘cause you’re mad at me. Give it a few minutes, and you won’t be.”
“Are you fucking insane!?” You yell. You draw towards him and slam the kettle off the stove. “You broke into my flat!”
“I had a key,” Simon says. He steps towards you, bullying you backwards until the hind of your spine catches on the cold granite of your countertop. Until your back bends over it, Simon, looming over you. “I’ve always told you to use the deadbolt.”
You bite your lip. The blood sticking to the roof of your mouth isn’t as bitter as Simon’s eyes. His are cold, depthless. 
“Fuck off.”
Then, Simon flips. His expression shifts in a whirlwind of seconds. Now, his brunette eyebrows are pursed and his lips are pointed down. His head is ensconced on your neck, his shoulder suddenly laden with an invisible weight as he kittens into you.
“Just came ‘cause I wanted to talk…” he mumbles. “One a’ my men died on me yesterday. Got early R&R for it. Thought you’d be happy to see me...”
You’re motionless as Simon clemently begins kissing your neck. You split your hands on his chest and try shoving him away, but he doesn’t move. He’s as solid as rock. Pushing himself into you, grovelling into your sleek skin. 
A phantom chain is tightening around your throat. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what you can say. You feel that with any words that poise themselves on your tongue, Simon won’t take kindly to. 
“Simon… I’m sorry for you. I really am,” you slip out from under him and step back. “But this isn’t the way to go about it. We’re adults. And I’m asking you to leave.”
Simon raises his head, lukewarm. He stares at you through his half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily, clenching his fist around the lip of your countertop. Thickly, you swallow. You fidget with your cardigan and hope it will offset the discomfort hanging in the air. Simon takes a deep breath, sucking it all up—the discomfort, the presentiment—and you expect his huffing to precede an explosive reaction, but it doesn’t come. He just slips himself off the island and turns around, quiet when he speaks.
“Yeah,” he hums. “My old man didn’t want anythin’ to do with me, so why should you?” 
Your eyes widen. Though you’ve spent so much time trying to bury it, trying to familiarise yourself with Simon’s sick gambits, a pang of guilt hits you hard.
“Don’t say things like that,” you point an accusing finger to his chest, “it isn’t fair.” 
“No, no,” he grumbles. “Makes sense, does’n’it? My old man walked out on me, so I should handle you walking out on me, too.”
Simon shudders with a long breath. He slaps his face into his hands, and it’s at this point, does your knee-jerk impulse to comfort him take hold of you. The last of your even-tempered brain screams at you—he’s trying to ply you with a humanised side of him, but that side died a long time ago—but you press forward and awkwardly bring him into your arms, patting him on the back. 
“Simon, I’m… sorry, okay?” He buries his head in your neck, nips at your skin. “I’m sorry.”
“Can’t you jus’ yell at me tomorrow?” He asks. Simon slips his hands into the depression of your waist, pulling you against his chest. Against the ever-rising tent of his jeans. 
Your mind protests, but Simon keeps you close. He stinks of sweat, impairing you with it, spinning you around and pushing you against the counter. 
“Simon–”
“Shhh,” he hums, catching his fingers on the hem of your leggings. “Y’said we can talk later. ’m tired, Love. Just need you right now.” 
Any protests rot on your tongue because the wind is knocked out of you as you’re folded over the counter. Simon’s hands travel, gripping every part of you, rekindling old bruises left behind and making space for new ones. 
He ruts into you, cock fattening in his boxers and stressing against his jeans. He slides a hand over the divots of your spine and bends it around your neck, hoisting your head back, huffing into your ear. 
“You’ve no idea how much I missed y’Love,” Simon’s humping you now. Rutting himself against your ass with unrestrained vigour. He bites the husk of your ear, flattens you against the counter, and sinks a hand below your waistband. He spreads your pussy open like the shell of a fruit, pushing his thick fingers into its flesh, knuckle-deep and kneading you. 
“How’s here?” He grumbles. You whine, and he twists himself deeper. “What about there?” 
Your mind and body wrestle between pushing him away and yielding under his touch. Simon fucks his fingers a little deeper, a little meaner, into you, and chuckles when you squeal. 
He rests his chin on your shoulder, and you see a sliver of bared teeth as his lips hitch up into a gnarled smile. “Ah, so that’s the spot, innit?”
You’re dew-skinned and fuzzy when Simon throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom. Your tongue is heavy and numb and bootless against any objections as he throws you on the mattress, standing balefully at the foot of the bed. 
If you were a child, you’d hide under your sheets until he disappeared. But you’re not a child, and Simon doesn’t disappear. He sinks his knees into your bed and swipes his shirt off over his head, unbuckling his belt in one slick motion. 
He unzips his jeans and doesn’t even pull his balls out, just cups the gauze of his boxers beneath it and leans onto his hands.
A pearlescent bead of precum slips down the slit of Simon’s dick and drools onto your comforter. He wraps his hand around it, slips his palm up and down, tugging down your pants.
Your legs kick into a paltry complaint, but Simon pins your legs down. 
“No reason in fighting,” he says, rubbing his cockhead against your clit, “You’re so wet, Love.”
Simon nudges your panties to the side and thumbs your clit. Leans in for a biting kiss and swallows your moans, slapping his fat cock against your puffy, wet cunt. 
“Missed me just as bad, eh?” He huffs, setting his dick against your winking hole, pushing past your first ring of muscle and rolling at the sticky sound of your cunt spreading open.
“Simon–” you hic, latching onto his forearms. Trying to offset his bruising grip on your hips as he falls into a steady, deep rhythm. “At least wear a condom.”
He’s so thick, so heavy between your legs. Hoisting you onto his thighs and leaning over you, snapping his cock into you. He screws his face tight, pellets of sweat running down his marred collarbone. Congealing into the spindly, blonde threads of hair on his chest. Down to the wire of steel wool that thickens on his pelvis, pinching your clit each time he slams into you.
“You’re stayin’ with me, Pup,” he pants, kissing a stripe up your neck, suckling on your pebbled nipple. “Gonna gimme a litter, ain’t you? Just like we talked about?”
A little, lone tear slips down your hot cheek. Simon leans in and licks it off. He stuffs himself to the hilt, shuddering with abrupt pleasure as he skips to his feet and folds you in half, pounding into you, biting down on your shoulder.
It hits you like whiplash when Simon pushes himself so deep that you feel him swelling under your skin. He gives you no warning before emptying his balls inside you, flooding you with a white-hot come, clutching your jaw into a wet, messy kiss.
You’re blinded and eclipsed by pain as your orgasm shoots through you. The pleasure is numbing and makes you quiver, tremble, until you’re gushing around Simon’s cock and swivelling your hips to get away.
You’re shaking when he pulls back, giving your pussy no time to soften. Simon gives it a swat and flays himself off of you, heading to the bathroom. You hear the cellophane of your birth control peeling open, and the successive thunk as Simon tosses it into the bin. 
You try getting up but Simon flattens you back as he crawls in bed next to you. There’s a hand of his on your waist, seemingly benign, but tightens itself each time you try slipping away. Your sniffles are piercing and Simon pulls you close. Brushes your tears away, kisses your eyelids. 
“You’re not gonna leave me now, eh? You can’t,” he whispers, “you’re all I’ve got. You and our baby. You can’t leave me now.”
A pitiful cry escapes you. Simon takes that as agreement.
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urkuna · 8 days
Text
# KUNA ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝜗𝜚 — confiding in his favorite concubine ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ
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“Come here,” he grumbles, not bothering to explain himself.
Sukuna remains silent as you close the distance between you.
Rather than saying what is on his mind, though, he continues to stare ahead, his expression shifting ever-so-slightly to reflect a growing unease. He knows what he wants, but he's afraid to admit it, even to himself.
The king can't help but scowl as his mind drifts towards his other concubines.
None of them have the slightest idea how he really feels about them, and their constant harassment is nothing short of irritating.
Then there's you. He doesn't understand what it is that makes you different, but there's just something about the way you talks to him that's so... relaxing.
Sukuna remains silent, clenching his teeth even tighter as he continues to avoid eye contact.
He hates how dependent he's become upon you, how much you soothed his frayed nerves with your mere presence.
No other concubine can pacify his inner demons the way you do.
He hates that you can sense his discomfort just as much as he hates how much he enjoys it.
For the first time in his life, he feels vulnerable. He doesn't want to admit it, yet here he is.
The cursed king is visibly tense, one of his four hands gripping the blankets tightly in frustration.
"Sit," he speaks once more, his voice even softer than before as he forces himself to relax into the bed.
With you close to him, he can finally relax. You’re the only one in his domain who he can bear to be affectionate with, the only one he can tolerate having contact with.
He grips you gently with his hands, his sharp fingers lightly tracing over your smooth skin as he savors your presence in silence.
The curse king knows it’s wrong to grope you like this, how you’re always there to comfort him. You’ve never seen him as a sex object or a way to get fame and power like the other girls did.
"Shut up," he growls to himself, unable to contain his frustration any longer.
His hands are more intense now, his fingers sinking deeper into your warm, soft body as he squeezes harder.
"Don’t say a damn word about this," he insists. "I’m serious."
You whimper in his grasp, unaware of who or what he was rambling about. “Ryomen—?”
"I said shut up," he snaps, not realizing he spoke out loud.
His grip loosens only slightly as his hands move to your sides, gripping them tightly as he pulls you closer.
He continues to glare ahead, not making eye contact as he speaks. "Just... hold me.”
He doesn't say it out of desire for affection, but rather as a demand.
He doesn't want you to stop when you begin leaving soft touches and kisses to his tattooed body, but he is too anxious and self-conscious to admit it. Instead, he keeps his face buried against you, trembling slightly from the sensation of your warmth.
"Mm..."
Sukuna lets out a low grunt of pleasure as his shoulders relax, his tension slowly fading away.
He lets out a few more grunts of approval as your hands begin to play in his hair, letting his body sink further into your embrace as his eyes finally close with a small smile upon his lips.
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ultravioletrayz · 4 months
Note
hii, i hope your day/night has been well !!
i was wondering if i could request husband miguel who’s at the society with chubby/curvy wife where reader is just literally stuck to him like glue because she’s on her period and like also period horny and she desperately wants a lolipop qnd miguel is like totally taking advantage of it by straight up making reader give him a bj for her to satisfy her oral fixation
Holy shit that’s so hot.
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Pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader
Warnings: 18+, oral (m. receiving), size kink (kinda), miguel and reader both being equally needy, public sex? (they do it in miguel’s office), miguel gets kind of rough so throat fucking ig, cum eating, awfully translated Spanish
Summary: following your husband around his workplace all day means miguel gets to take full advantage of your current… situation 🩸
A/N: someone give reader her lollipop :(
Word Count: 1.6K (unedited)
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At this point, you couldn’t tell whether Miguel was genuinely clueless, or just being a dick. You’ve been following him around HQ all day, not wanting to get lost in the hustle and bustle of the Spider Society, all the while trying not to cry out in pain and discomfort from how bad your cramps are getting.
It’s like your body wants you to suffer. The dizzying combination of pain, exhaustion, arousal, and the desperate need to distract yourself with something, anything, is enough to make you scurry away from your husband in desperate search of any kind of relief.
You try to follow the signs and the memory of Miguel showing you around his workplace the first time he had let you visit, making your way into the cafeteria. A few Spider-People look your way, confused as to why Miguel wasn’t by your side.
Shyly, you make your way to a few food stands and counters set up throughout the room, asking around if anybody sells a lollipop or anything else that would satisfy your need for distraction. Unfortunately for you, nobody has anything to offer, causing you to smile politely and leave the room, despite how frustrating this whole situation is.
You’ve excused yourself to the bathroom an obscene amount of times, been caught clutching your midsection as a result of your more painful cramps (day 2 fucking sucks), and you’ve been biting and chewing at the collar of the cute little blouse you’re wearing, which was your first attempt to communicate to Miguel this morning that you are painfully horny. And yet, the man you married for his caring and observant nature was none the wiser.
“¿Adónde fuiste?” Miguel’s voice booms behind you, causing a startled yelp to leave your lips as you turn on your heels and look up at him. His expression isn’t one of anger, like you had expected, it’s more amused than anything. (Where did you go?)
“I wanted a lollipop,” You say softly, fiddling with the hem of your blouse as the mere sight of your tall, tan, muscular husband in that skin-tight, holographic suit makes your thighs instinctively clench together. “But nobody sells them. You should get onto that, Migs.” You joke, trying to focus on anything but the aching in your lower tummy and the arousal pooling in your panties.
“Why do you want a lollipop? If you’re hungry, get something real to eat, cariño, a lollipop’s not gonna fill you up.” Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, his sharp red eyes full of confusion as he tries to pin your unusual behaviour.
“Miguel, I'm on my period, you idiot.” You giggle, your suspicions regarding Miguel’s cluelessness towards your situation being confirmed. It was a bit annoying that despite how long you two have been together, he can still get so caught up in work that he doesn’t remember the important things, like when your period’s due and that your oral fixation worsens during that time of the month. But he’s too hot to hold a grudge.
Miguel’s amused expression drops and he lets out a dramatic sigh, rubbing his temples as he mumbles apologies for his negligence towards your feelings the whole day. “Lo siento, querida, I had no idea. Can I do anything to help you?”
You smile softly at Miguel’s apology, licking your lips and fighting the urge to suck on the fabric of your blouse as you look up at your husband. “I need something to distract me from my cramps. Is there anywhere here that sells lollipops? Maybe one of the kids has candy or something stashed in their lockers?”
Miguel tries to hide the devilish smirk that creeps onto his lips as he steps close to you. He rests one of his massive, calloused hands on the back of your head, leaning in to whisper against your ear. “¿Necesitas chupar algo, nena?” (Need something to suck on, baby?)
You blush, Miguel’s teasing comment making you weak in the knees and going straight to your dripping cunt. Your eyes dart around the area the two of you are standing in, terrified one of Miguel’s subordinates may have heard him. Once you’re sure the two of you are alone, you nod, the needy look on your pretty face causing Miguel’s dick to throb in his suit.
With haste, Miguel drags you into his office, your lips crashing against one another as he slams your much smaller frame against the wall, his tongue forcing its way into the warmth of your mouth. One of his hands is buried in the softness of your silky locks, the other cupping your dripping pussy over your jeans, the heel of his palm grinding against your pulsing clit and causing you to whimper against his plump lips.
“Fucking lollipop,” Miguel hisses against your lips, his tone dripping with teasing and dominance as he sits down in the nearest desk chair and gestures for you to follow. “If you wanted to suck my dick that bad, should’ve just said something, princesa.”
Miguel spreads his muscular thighs, and you take it as an invitation to kneel between them. Your head rests on his leg, causing his holographic suit to flicker at the contact. He can’t help but chuckle at the adorable sight before him. His pretty little wifey, desperate to feel his heavy dick in her mouth. With a grin on your face, you reach up to tap the glowing screen of Miguel’s dimensional travel watch, the bottom half of his Spider-Suit dissolving. His hardened cock springs up, pre already dribbling from his reddened tip just because of how needy you are on your period. It drives him fucking insane.
You wrap your hands around Miguel’s shaft, your digits barely enveloping his girthy member, causing him to let out a quiet moan. Your eyes remain glued to his sharp, red ones as your tongue darts out to lick a fat stripe from his swollen balls, along the veins on the underside of his dick, all the way up to his leaky tip. He groans as you plant little kisses against his moist slit, claws protruding from his fingertips and digging into the arms of his chair.
“Stop teasing, cariño,” Miguel whimpers, hips bucking against your mouth to try and force his cock inside. “I thought you needed this-” Miguel’s words are cut off by a loud moan as you unexpectantly give his tip a harsh suck, swirling your tongue around it as you savour the taste of his precum.
He knows that you’re overly sensitive and fragile when you’re on your period, but the second your moist, plush lips surround his cock, he loses all self-control. You wanted something to suck, something to distract you from your cramps? Miguel was going to give you just that. He grabs you by your hair and bucks his hips upwards, his cock slamming into the back of your throat and causing you to choke and cry. He fucks his dick into the depths of your mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he pants and moans above you. You hollow your cheeks and rest your hands on the thick flesh of his legs, trying to ground yourself and adjust to the way Miguel smears his precum all over the walls of your mouth.
“Lo siento– ¡mierda! Lo siento, cariño.” Miguel whines, his hold on your hair loosening as you start to bob your head up and down on his length, sucking him off properly now. He reaches out to wipe away your tears, whispering sweet praises to you to make up for his harsh thrusts before. “Doing so good, baby. Keep going.”
Saliva drips down your chin as you take as much of Miguel in your mouth as possible, your hands firmly stroking the bottom half of his shaft that isn’t inside the gushy warmth of your pretty lips. The weight of Miguel’s cock against your tongue, the way his veins pulsate and brush against your lips each time your head rises, and the sight of his head thrown back and his thighs twitching as he gets closer and closer to cumming makes your aching pussy drool, your panties surely ruined by how turned on you are.
“I’m- fuck! I’m gonna cum, bebé.” Miguel whines, the muscles in his thick biceps bulging as he grips his chair and lazily fucks into your mouth to reach his release. Feeling his twitching cock filling your mouth makes you moan, the vibrations of your pretty sounds sending Miguel over the edge. His cum coats the inside of your mouth, spurting against the back of your throat as he pants and curses to himself.
You release his softening member with a pop!, licking up the stray ropes of his release that coat his shaft and lap, swallowing his load and making sure to clean him up thoroughly. He chuckles breathlessly at the sight of you being so obedient and he lifts your chin in one hand to stroke his thumb against your cheek.
“Gracias, mi reina,” He whispers, enabling his suit once again, his heavy, moist cock disappearing underneath the digital strands of blue and red. “I’ll return the favour at home, okay?”
You giggle and nod your head in agreement, staring up at your fucked-out husband gratefully.
“Can you still help me find a lollipop to buy?”
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Teehee :)
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hayatheauthor · 12 days
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Writing Rage: How To Make Your Characters Seem Angry
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Anger is a powerful emotion that can add depth and intensity to your character's personality. If you're facing issues realistically expressing your characters' rage, here are some quick tips to help you get the ball rolling. Whether your character is seething with quiet rage or exploding in a fit of fury, these tips will help you convey their emotions vividly to your readers.
This is blog one in my writing different emotions series. Go check it out to explore more emotions!
Facial Expressions
Furrowed Brows: Describe the deep lines between their eyebrows, signaling frustration or intensity.
Tightened Jaw: Mention their clenched jaw, indicating suppressed anger or tension.
Narrowed Eyes: Highlight how their eyes narrow, showing suspicion, irritation, or anger.
Raised Upper Lip: Note the slight curl of the lip, suggesting disdain or contempt.
Flared Nostrils: Describe how their nostrils flare, indicating heightened emotions like anger or aggression.
Body Language and Gestures
Crossed Arms: Show their defensive stance, portraying resistance or defiance.
Pointing Finger: Describe them pointing accusatively, conveying aggression or assertion.
Fist Clenching: Mention their clenched fists, symbolizing anger or readiness for confrontation.
Hand Gestures: Detail specific hand movements like chopping motions, indicating frustration or emphasis.
Aggressive Posturing: Describe them leaning forward, invading personal space to intimidate or assert dominance.
Posture
Tense Shoulders: Highlight their raised or tense shoulders, indicating stress or readiness for conflict.
Upright Stance: Describe their rigid posture, showing control or a desire to appear strong.
Stiff Movements: Mention their jerky or abrupt movements, reflecting agitation or impatience.
Eye Contact
Intense Stares: Describe their intense or prolonged gaze, signaling confrontation or challenge.
Avoiding Eye Contact: Note how they avoid eye contact, suggesting discomfort or a desire to disengage.
Glaring: Mention how they glare at others, conveying hostility or disapproval.
Dialogue
Raised or strained tone with variations in pitch reflects heightened emotions.
Short, clipped sentences or abrupt pauses convey controlled anger.
Use of profanity or harsh language intensifies verbal expressions of anger.
Volume increase, from whispers to shouts, mirrors escalating anger levels.
Monotonous or sarcastic tone adds layers to angry dialogue.
Interruptions or talking over others signify impatience and frustration.
Aggressive verbal cues like "I can't believe..." or "How dare you..." express anger explicitly.
Reactions
Physical Reactions: Detail physical responses like increased heart rate, sweating, or trembling, showing emotional arousal.
Defensive Maneuvers: Describe how they react defensively if someone tries to touch or talk to them, such as stepping back or raising a hand to ward off contact.
Object Interaction
Aggressive Handling: Show them slamming objects, throwing things, or gripping items tightly, reflecting anger or aggression.
Use of Props: Mention how they use objects to emphasize their emotions, like slamming a door or clenching a pen.
Descriptive Words:
Verbs:
Roared with fury, expressing unbridled anger.
Snapped in frustration, indicating sudden irritation.
Shouted angrily, releasing pent-up emotions.
Glared fiercely, showing intense displeasure.
Slammed objects in rage, symbolizing anger's physical manifestation.
Grunted in annoyance, displaying impatience.
Raged vehemently, portraying uncontrolled anger.
Adjectives:
Furious and incensed, conveying intense anger.
Seething with rage, bubbling beneath the surface.
Livid and fuming, exhibiting visible anger.
Agitated and irritated, showing growing impatience.
Enraged and wrathful, expressing extreme anger.
Vexed and irate, indicating annoyance.
Infuriated and incandescent, highlighting explosive anger.
Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 
Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 
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readsaboutreid · 22 days
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Periods Suck
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this is inspired by lenaleechi on instagram's comic about hating periods as well as the gif above because it gives me mad baby fever so i guess this is season 4 softdom!spencer x gn!afab!bau!reader plus a blink and you'll miss it buffy the vampire slayer reference
content warning: breeding kink and period sex [i'm too stoned to think of any others but if you think of them please add them (kindly) in the replies and i'll add them in later :)]
this is smut, minors dni pls and thank you
"...fuck this, fuck everything and everyone, I am done, I quit," I ramble as I open the door to my apartment and kick off my dress shoes that were painfully squeezing my toes, just adding to my frustration. This case had been particularly mild compared to others but I couldn't help but be in a mood due to the littlest things done by the (admittedly innocent) local police officers. I was so relieved to finally go home and get to sleep in my own bed and curl up with a heating pad and my boyfriend with a Doctor Who marathon.
"Deep breaths, (y/n)," I hear from behind me in a soft, soothing tone as gentle hands come down to rub my shoulders from behind. I know he’s well aware what’s causing me to be in such a shitty mood. His pattern recognition skills are off the chart and while he never outright said anything to me about it he'd always be prepared with hot water bottles and chocolate when this time of the month rolled around. I turn around and bury my face into his chest with a sigh.
"I hate periods, Spencer. They suck," I whine with a sigh, my voice muffled by the knit fabric of his cardigan.
"I know, love," he sighs above me, resting his cheek on my forehead and wrapping his arms around me, "I'm sorry there's not more I could do to help."
"You're helping already," I sigh again, but this time out of contentment as we sway side to side in the entry way. "I wish there was a way I could just, like, stop having them," I mutter, my face returning to the soft fibers that I had come to find so comforting over the years.
Spencer's voice is muffled against my hair as he mutters, "That may be something I can assist you with." I don't even need to see his face to imagine the grin spread across it. Lately, he had been subtly expressing his desire for children, but after JJ gave birth to Henry, his hints have become more pressing. And technically, it was all because of me.
The night was a blur of celebration and drinks, as Emily and Garcia joined me in raising our glasses to toast the occasion. But as we were caught up in the joy of the moment, I couldn't help but let slip that after seeing the pure happiness on Spencer's face at the sight of his godchild a spark ignited within me, igniting a fierce case of baby fever that threatened to consume me entirely. Garcia, the horrible traitor that she is, had messaged a video of my confession to Spencer before I had even finished talking and before I knew it, my phone was buzzing with pictures from Spencer himself - tiny onesies and miniature sneakers - accompanied by words like, ‘just imagine a little genius of our own running around our home in this.’
Without changing his stance, he starts off on one of his typical Spencer Reid rants. "Did you know that scientific research has indicated that orgasms can alleviate menstrual cramps? It's due to the release of endorphins and muscular contractions which help relax the uterine lining," he explains with a slight hint of arousal in his tone, "not only does it address your discomfort, but it also takes care of your other request at the same time."
"We could start trying now, if you want," he suggests with a playful tone, though the subtle hint of desire in his voice sends a jolt of anticipation down my spine and settles between my thighs, igniting a fervent ache. Oh. Oh.
I finally turn my head to meet his gaze, and I am met with intense desire radiating from his eyes. His pupils are dilated, and he licks his lips before gently tracing a finger along my cheek and following up with a soft, "what do you think?"
I interrupt him by pulling his face towards mine, and our lips meet in a soft kiss. Suddenly, I'm pushed against the wall with the command to "jump," and my legs automatically wrap around Spencer as he lifts me up by my ass. Our lips met in a hungry yet tender kiss.
Our breaths come in ragged gasps as he pulls away to meet my gaze, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. I eagerly nod, my heart racing and anticipation building. Our lips collide once more, the heat between us intensifying as we lose ourselves in each other's embrace. The world fades into the background as our bodies meld together, consumed by desire. He sets me down and guides me to our bedroom by the hand, giggling slightly with excitement. I know he wants kids and we have discussed having them together in the future but the giddiness of the grown ass man in front of me ends up drawing a giggle from my own throat as well.
As we enter the bedroom, he stoops down to give me a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom. He grabs an old black towel I use for dyeing my hair and returns, laying it down on the bed and patting it lightly. He sends me sweet smile full of adoration as he whispers, "after you, my love."
I stumble towards the light switch and turn it off before making my way over to the bed. I take off my top and lay down, the darkness giving me a sense of privacy. Suddenly, I hear a soft sound from Spencer as he walks away. The lights flick back on, and he quickly closes the distance between us with just two steps. Before I can even cover myself up in the glare of the harsh light, he's already crawling on top of me.
"You're so gorgeous," he beams at me again before leaning in to kiss me gently, lowering his hips to rest between my legs as they wrap back around his hips instinctively as he begin peppering kisses all over my face and drawing endless laughs from my mouth, "I'm," kiss, "so," kiss, "lucky," kiss, "to," kiss, "have," kiss, "you."
He moves back, his lips leaving a trail of fire as they kiss and caress my skin. My jaw trembles under the soft brush of his lips, before he slowly trails kisses down to my throat. I can't help but let out a moan as his lips touch the sensitive skin there. His body presses against mine, the unmistakable hardness of his arousal pressing against my hypersensitive center. Every move, every touch, sends electric shivers through my body, igniting a primal desire within me.
My body aches with desire as I struggle to catch my breath. "Please remove your clothing now," I manage to say between deep, passionate kisses. Spencer eagerly strips down and helps me out of my own clothes before settling back between my legs. His arousal presses against the wetness between my thighs, adding to the intense heat building inside me.
"I've been craving this all week, sweetness," he mutters against my neck as he sucks feverishly at the skin, leaving love bites in his wake. "Craving you and your beautiful body." I have no idea how he managed to get me from wildly upset to wildly horny in such a short time, but instead of questioning it, I just let out a moan as I grind my hips against him, begging for his cock to enter me. He continues to tease me by rubbing the tip against my wet slit.
“P-please, Spence,” I whimper, unable to form a coherent sentence through the haze of lust I had become quickly lost within.
Spencer's eyes flicker with desire as he holds himself over me, his hands fisting the sheets on either side of my head. "Say it again," he growls, rubbing his erection against my aching center.
"P-please," I beg, my voice shaking with need.
He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine.
"As you wish," he murmurs before slowly sliding inside me. I gasp at the intense pleasure that washes over me, causing my body to arch off the bed and my nails to dig into his back. He begins to move in slow, deep thrusts, filling me completely and igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume every inch of my being.
As our bodies meld together in a blazing inferno, time itself seems to cease to exist. Every touch of Spencer's fingers sends shivers of ecstasy coursing through me, while each caress of his lips against mine ignites a fire within. Our movements are fluid and perfect, each one bringing us closer to the pinnacle of pleasure. I am consumed by an overwhelming sensation, my senses heightened to their limits as our passion reaches an almost unbearable intensity. It feels as though this moment could stretch on for eternity, and I never want it to end. In this single moment, there is nothing else but the all-consuming desire between us, and I give myself completely to it.
My heart pounds against my ribs as Spencer's gaze locks onto mine, his eyes filled with the same ferocity and desire that burns within me. He gives me a wicked grin, and I can feel my resolve crumble as the insatiable hunger consumes me. "You want to have my baby?" he gasps, and all I can respond with is a loud, whorish moan, entirely unable to form any words as his hips start to move ever so slightly faster.
He surges forward, his body fusing with mine in a wild, primal dance. Our movements become more frenzied, our bodies slamming together with the force of a thousand thunderstorms. My breath comes in short gasps as Spencer's relentless thrusts coax an orgasm out of me. My muscles tense, my hips bucking against him, seeking the sweet release from the intense pleasure building up inside of me.
Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word sends me higher and higher, my body arching and bucking beneath him in a frenzy of ecstasy.
Spencer's eyes are locked onto mine as he continues to drive into me, his gaze burning with an intensity that matches the fire inside us both. His hands grip my hips tightly, never losing rhythm as he thrusts into me and coaxes that sweet release from me. My body trembles and shakes with each surge, and I can feel the orgasm building, growing stronger and more intense with each passing second.
A low, guttural moan escapes from Spencer's lips as he picks up the pace, his movements becoming harder and faster. I can feel him growing more desperate, and I know that he's close to his own release.
The pleasurable ache between my legs intensifies, and I know that I'm about to reach that peak. I let out a helpless whimper as the pleasure was threatening to overtake me, and I feel as though I'm being pulled into a vortex of ecstasy. Time seems to stand still, and I'm lost in the moment, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.
The bed creaks and groans with our passionate lovemaking, the sound echoing in my ears as I reach for the pinnacle of pleasure. Spencer's eyes are locked onto mine, and I see the same intensity in them that I feel in my own being. We're one, united in our desire for each other, and nothing else matters in this world.
His thrusts become harder and faster, the tip of his erection brushing against the most sensitive part of me with every stroke. The pleasure is overwhelming, and I can feel the orgasm building within me, growing stronger with each passing second. I cling to Spencer, my nails digging into his back as I beg him to take me over the edge.
“Gonna fill you up,(Y/N),” Spencer moans, “everyone will know who you belong to once you’re — oh fuck — carrying my fucking baby inside you.” His words send me falling over the edge and I can feel myself slipping away, my mind consumed by the intense pleasure reaching it's peak as my hips buck wildly.
Time seems to stand still as we reach the pinnacle of pleasure together. Our bodies move in perfect sync, every thrust, every caress, every whispered word fueling the fire that burns within us. The pleasure is all-consuming, coursing through my veins and reaching every cell in my body. I let out a series of orgasmic moans bordering on screams and Spencer smiles down at me wickedly, his eyes never leaving mine as his thrusts become harder and more disjointed as his own orgasm looms on the horizon. His moans grow louder and louder as the feeling of slight overstimulation makes me clench even tighter around his throbbing cock as he reaches his breaking point.
"Please, Spencer," I whisper, "make me yours, sir. P-please, please put a baby in me!"
Finally, with one last deep thrust, Spencer moans loudly and shudders above me, his body rigid as he loses himself in the pleasure of a release he had been building up to for what felt like an eternity. As Spencer's body shudders above mine, I can feel the warmth of his release filling me up, an earth-shattering feeling that takes my breath away. We lay there for a moment, our bodies still joined together, basking in the afterglow of our passion. Finally, with a contented sigh, Spencer pulls out of me and collapses onto the bed beside me.
I snap back to reality, my mind reeling from the intensity of our lovemaking. I can feel the stickiness between my legs, a reminder of the incredible moment we just shared. The room is still, the only sounds being our heavy breathing and the rhythmic beating of our hearts. I reach over to grab the bedside table, searching for a tissue to clean myself up.
"Spencer?" I say softly, my voice barely a whisper.
"Yeah, sweetheart?" he replies, still out of breath.
I flash him a saucy grin, "I think we'll have to make sure we keep trying this before my next period so I won't have to suffer through another one, for a while." I joked, while playfully poking his chest.
He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear, "I think that's a great idea, my love." I couldn't help but giggle at his response, feeling a burst of warmth spread through my body.
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sexlapis · 5 months
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- house decor
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꩜ nanami x reader
synopsis: you & nanami go home decor shopping and your methods for choosing furniture are…interesting to say the least.
suggestive, heavy sex implications, crack fic, fluff, gender neutral!reader, nanami & reader are married, reader embarrassing nanami
a/n: inspired by this tiktok video ^_^
masterlists
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*
you do not enjoy shopping.
the bustling crowd, the loud, busy atmosphere, the blinding strain of artificial light and constantly moving around on your feet for hours on end when you desired the comfort of your home.
you do not enjoy shopping.
unfortunately for you, your newly wedded husband nanami did and being the good partner you are, you willingly put aside your mild discomfort to make him happy.
it’s so difficult being a good, loving and caring partner for your husband, really.
after shoving all of your previous shopping in the trunk of the car, relief floods you. finally, this day is over. it’s only 4pm and a long, cosy afternoon nap awaits at home.
instead, nanami waits beside the car, holding his hand out for you to hold. “come on. we still have one more place left.”
“what!” you groan. “i thought that was the last one!”
“nu-uh. just this one and we’re all done for the day.”
grumbling, you place your hand in his. nanami smiles softly at you and your frustrations ease just a little.
he drags you along the buzzing car park all the way to a large, furniture store.
furniture, huh?
“oh! furniture shopping!” you gleam, a mischievous glint in your eyes that nanami fails to notice. “i’m okay with this.”
“i think that is the happiest you’ve looked since we left the house.”
“yeah, i can tolerate shopping for furniture. not your five billion candles! also, i get to sit down.
“ah, _____,” nanami sighs fondly, pecking your temple quickly, “you are so lazy…”
you huff, but your attention is grabbed by a two-seater, emerald coloured sofa of velvet material. it looked comfortable and seemed like a good deal.
you glide your hand along the rim of the furniture. “what’d you think of this one, kento?”
“hm..it’s alright.” he replies, walking around the sofa and inspecting it like it needs a good fix. “it’s a little small, though.”
“yeah. yeah, that true,” you say, standing behind the lovely, exquisitely made piece of furniture.
you then place both hands onto the outside back of the sofa, and lean forward, effectively bending over. you shift around, seeing how it feels.
glancing back, you see nanami tilt his head and squint his eyes at you.
“…what are you doing?”
you smirk. “you know, jus’…seeing how it feels,” you grunt, standing back up and dusting your hands off like you did a job well done, “it’s too short for me anyway, it would hurt my hips when we..y’know…”
nanami lifts a brow on his perfect face, waiting for you to elaborate.
but you just turn to the kitchen section, skipping away to see what other pieces of furniture and house decorations you can terrorise.
“this one is nice.” you say to nanami, who followed you all the way even in his confusion, of course.
the kitchen setup was modern and sleek, taking on neutral tones like beige, white and brown.
“yes, i do like this one. i can see myself cooking on here.” nanami replies, referring to the electric oven.
“yeah, yeah..” you speak, opening and closing the kitchen cupboards. “hm.”
“what is it?”
“i dunno,” and then, you’re bending over again, this time over the kitchen counter display. “this area is a bit small too,” you jerk your body exaggeratedly, repeatedly moving forwards and backwards like you were being fucked, almost hitting your head on the cupboard above, “yeah, i don’t-”
“_____!” nanami hisses, face morphing into a incredulous expression as he marches over to you, quickly putting a stop to you act, “what are you doing?”
you look up at him from where you’re bent over. “wh-i’m testing it out. seeing if it’s what we need and whatnot,” you turn back around, still in the same position, “okay, now do a few practice thrusts on me, i need to see if-”
“_____!”
“okay, okay.” you huff, laughing a little. you stand up straight, taking a good look at nanami.
a pink tinge coats his cheeks and nose while he frowns at you, almost pouting.
how cute.
you grin and latch onto his fingers, pulling him along with you. “let’s see the bed section now.”
nanami sighs. this day will be longer than he thought.
*
you plonk yourself down on the alaskan sized mattress, body bouncing with the bed itself. sprawling out like a starfish, you hum, letting yourself sink into the comfort of the bed.
nanami stands, seemingly unimpressed. “_____, that’s the sixth time you’ve done that.”
“yeah, kento, i need to see if it’s good to lie on after a long day of work or something..” an idea springs to mind and you sit up quickly, “okay, try throwing me on the bed, but not too hard.”
“_____, no-”
“come on! nobody’s around. look.” you were correct, there was hardly anyone in the store at this time, considering it was a thursday and nearing late afternoon. “just indulge me. just this once,” you beam up at him, “please?”
nanami stared down at you. he and you both know that he will give in. he can’t say no to you, really.
nanami rolls his eyes at himself, holding his hands out and beckoning you over. “come here then..”
you spring up, practically running to him and throwing yourself in his arms. “throw me!”
he shakes his head at you, looking around before throwing you onto the bed. you bounce, cackling and smiling widely as you lay on the bed. nanami shakes his head fondly, looking down at your delighted face. “how is it?”
you breathe heavily, making a face. “eh,” you jump off the bed, “too bouncy and too loud.”
“really?” nanami blanks. “you’ve been jumping on this bed for ten minutes and you don’t-”
“ooo, come look at this armchair, kento!” but you’re already off to your next piece of furniture. you kneel down a little, “this one looks comfy.”
“yeah,” huffing, nanami strolls over, “yeah, it’s nice.”
your hand finds nanami’s back and you prompt him forward. “sit on it.”
he gives you a look. “and you won’t do anything ridiculous?”
“nanami.” you look at him pointedly. “sit on it, i wanna see what you think.”
nanami stared at you for second and obeys, walking to the couch and sitting, legs spread and arms resting.
“what’d you think?” you ask, admiring his thick legs and arms as you stalk closer to him.
“yes, it’s comfortable,” nanami stated and shifts a little. he feels the leather material of the armrest, “and good quality i’d say.”
“hmmm.” that’s all that is said before you’re plopping yourself onto his lap.
nanami sputters. “_____, wh-”
“shh, shush, i’m not gonna do anything this time. just wanna see how i feel sitting on your lap in this chair,” you look back at him from where you’re seated, smiling innocently, “yeah?”
nanami’s eyes thin, clearly not believing you and not a fan of displaying such intimate affection so publicly, but he sighs, “alright….”
you nod joyfully, rubbing his knee and turning to look at the layout of this particular living room. a large, black, smart television that nanami would definitely deem unnecessary, a cream, ruffled rug laid out across the floor, a mahogany, oval-shaped coffee table.
“this one’s pretty boring, right?”
nanami runs a hand down his stubble covered jaw. he forgot to shave, but you can’t say you don’t like it. “yeah, the only thing i like is the armchair.”
before he even finishes his sentence, you’re momentarily bouncing on his lap like a pogo stick, not even giving nanami time to process what just happened before you stand up, placing your hands on your hips. “yeah, yeah we should definitely get this one. comfy, quiet, nice looking. will fit perfectly into our living room, don’t you think?”
nanami stares at you, still planted on the armchair, unmoving. “i have nothing to say to you. you’re unbelievable.”
you cackle. “do you even know me?”
he mumbles, rising from the seat, adjusting his jeans slightly. you smirk, biting your lip and go to say something teasing, but he stops you, “not. a. word.”
*
a brand new, comfortable and most importantly, durable, leather armchair sits in your living room by the end of next week.
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a/n: i luv when reader is a little tease 🤭🤭🤭
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hannieehaee · 1 month
Note
Hi :) can you please make a svt reaction about their gf receiving tons of love confessions on a daily basis ? <3
you receiving love confessions from other people
content: established relationship, some jealousy is involved, gender neutral reader, etc.
wc: 1011
a/n: hiii thank u for requesting i loved this concept hehe <3
masterlist
seungcheol -
he wouldnt want to show it, but he'd become a little territorial whenever you told him about yet another person inquiring about your relationship status. although he would be confident in your relationship, he would still feel annoyed at knowing so many people thought they even had a chance with you. his jealousy would only manifest in pouts and whines in complaint, but he would sometimes get sulky about it for a while.
jeonghan -
would somehow tease you about it. would also laugh at the mere idea of anyone else thinking they could ever have a chance with you. he'd be wayyy overconfident about how much you liked him (with good reason), so he would constantly bring up how obsessed with him you must be to constantly turn a blind eye to every single one of your suitors in favor of being with him instead.
joshua -
mostly amused. he knew from the moment he met you that you must get a lot of attention (i mean, you did get his undivided attention upon the first glance), so he wouldnt be surprised if that was still the case even while you were in a relationship with him. he wouldnt see any harm in it, simply chuckling in amusement whenever someone would attempt to get with you, knowing you were already happily spoken for.
jun -
he understood why it happened, he just wasnt a fan. he's not a jealous guy, but he also doesnt enjoy watching people try and flirt with you any time he's away from your side for more than five seconds. he'd express his discomfort to you in the form of whines and pouts, choosing to stick to you like glue in order to prevent people believing you werent spoken for. he'd ask you to never let him know if people hit on you while he wasnt around. he'd know it happened, but he'd choose to live in denial.
soonyoung -
idk how to explain this properly but he would get so touchy and clingy if he ever sensed anyone showing any type of non-platonic interest towards you. he's not possessive per say, but he would get sulky if he sensed anyone even thinking of you in a way that was anything more than friendly. knowing you got confessions on a daily basis would have him attached to your hip 24/7 to 'subtly' let people know you were taken.
wonwoo -
wouldn't really think much of it. he's always been a bit of a heartthrob himself (i mean, he was known around his neighborhood for being handsome ..), so he would shrug off the constant attention you got in the same way he shrugged off the attention he's always gotten. he would feel some pride at knowing how strong your feelings were for one another to never consider even looking at anyone else.
jihoon -
if you told him you had gotten a few confessions here and there, he would shrug it off and reason it was only to be expected since you were such a catch. however, if he were ever to actually see someone confess or hit on you while he was present, he would scoff and get immediately frustrated at the sight. he's a lowkey guy, so he wouldnt cause a scene or anything, but his jealousy would easily begin to show. he'd need reassurance from you to go back to his calm self, but would now become touchier as if to show dominance.
seokmin -
he would be one of the many people sending you love confessions on the daily. ok, not really (since he already had you all to himself), but he knew how gorgeous and likable you were, so he couldnt bring himself to blame anyone who showed interest in you. would even relish in knowing other people saw all the charms you had to offer.
mingyu -
too busy warding off all the love confessions heading his way to even realize you were kind of in the same boat. he's wanted by everyone (re: that video from nana tour where the lady literally stops in her tracks to check him out) and he gets attention constantly (re: the million times in which random ppl in nana tour struck convo with him), so be assured that this man understands the struggle and would absolutely not pay it any mind.
minghao -
would find it amusing how other people thought you'd ever even give them the time of day when you had him. he was extremely secure of your relationship, so be would never feel threatened at you having many options for a partner. he'd even feel a bit cocky knowing he was the one and only person you wanted.
seungkwan -
a little bit peeved by it. not jealous or anything like that (he's super confident in your relationship), but more so annoyed that other people would dare look past your boyfriend (him; boo seungkwan; vocalist of boy group seventeen), and still try and shoot their shot. would straight up mock anyone who dared even consider trying to express their interest towards you (behind their backs, but still!).
vernon -
you got another person stopping you in the street to ask for your number? cool. he wouldnt really mind it. i mean, he knows you're hot and funny and likable and basically possess every good quality in the world, so why should he be surprised that other people are aware of that too? would be completely chill about it and even ask you to keep him updated on any instance in which someone tried to hit on you (for entertainment reasons, of course).
chan -
maybe a teeny tiny bit jealous at seeing the fourth person today try and charm your number out of you (despite chan being right there!!). he knew you were an absolute catch, but it still threw him off a bit whenever other people would acknowledge that fact. would need a bit of reassurance from you to feel less bugged by it and would eventually even make the whole thing into an inside joke between the two of you.
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archonsabyss · 3 months
Text
╰─..✶. [ Engraved in my Mind ]
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❒ pairing: wriothesley x fem!reader
❒ genre: fluff! suggestive [nsfw]!
❒ warnings: reader is on her period! boob play (hands and tongue)! slight nudity!
❒ wc: 1.1k
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Wriothesley returned home from work later than usual and he was utterly exhausted. Each step seemed to carry the weight of his weariness, his boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor.
The minute he stepped through the doors of his home, his smile faded and his hand flew to his hair, running his fingers through the strands messing it up. He attempted to loosen his tie but it wouldn't budge, and it frustrated him to the point he grumbled and just left it as is before looking around the open living room and kitchen, seeing you nowhere in sight, he headed towards the bedroom, holding a bottle of water in his hand.
"Wrio" Came his name from your sweetened lips just as he turned the knob of the door and peeked his head in. You heard the opening and closing of the front door earlier when he just arrived but couldn't get up to greet him, the warmth of the bed soothing your period cramps. Seeking your comfort after a long day, Wriothesley trudges over as you sit up in bed and take a seat beside your legs.
"What happened?" You asked, breaking into a humoured smile as you observed the state he walked in with, your hands naturally reaching for the tie he failed to loosen and swiftly undoing it with ease.
"Long day" Is all he says, and you take that as a sign to start unbuttoning his shirt for him. When you're done, he stands and casually shrugs out of the fabric, his biceps flexing in the process and your gaze lingers unashamedly, a grin forming on your lips. You were aware that he did not intend for it to be such an attraction but how could you possibly resist admiring his every move when his entire being exuded undeniable allure?
"I'm going to take a quick shower" He informs you, his hand placed behind your head as he leans down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, true to his word, he returns dressed in a pair of grey sweats not even ten minutes later for you to help him dry his hair.
"Missed you today" He releases a loud, heavy breath as he crawls onto his side of the bed before deciding he wants to settle on top of you. You don't get a chance to protest as he's already hovering above you and gently lowering himself to lay his head on your stomach. You flinch but can't find it in you to say otherwise. What's a little discomfort? Right. You just need to avoid making any unnecessary movements and all will be fine.
"Take your top off" Wriothesley mutters, nuzzling his nose between your breasts.
"It's cold"
"I'll keep them warm. Please? I've had a rough day at work"
"And seeing my breasts would do what about it, exactly?" You questioned with a raised brow.
Wriothesley looked you directly in the eyes and with all seriousness, he said, "It would make me feel better knowing I could end the day with that, at least"
One thing about being in a relationship with Wriothesley, you find yourself completely vulnerable to his desires and requests. Whatever he wished for, he effortlessly obtained, and the proof lay right in front of you as you silently obeyed and pulled your shirt over your head, revealing the bra you wore only for support. Wriothesley assisted you in unclasping the garment, unable to restrain the giddy smile from showing.
"Thank you" He whispers sweetly meeting your eyes. But his expression shifts when he looks down at your breasts filling his hands. His eyebrows crease and his lip falls into a small frown as he scrutinizes your boobs.
"What's wrong?"
He shakes his head first, "Nothing"
But the longer he looks at your breasts, squeezing gently now and then, he's certain.
"Your boobs are bigger" He states in all mildly perplexed seriousness.
You suck your bottom lip in to hold your laughter, "No? They're still the same"
"They're bigger" He persists.
"You're imagining things. How would you know?"
"I just do" He refutes, "I know every inch of your body. It's engraved in my mind. Now be honest, are you okay?"
It takes everything in you to not combust, to not succumb to the rounded eyes of innocence that he peers up at you so intently. You struggle to contain yourself, resisting the urge to unravel under the innocent gaze of his rounded eyes. He believes he can discern the difference, rather, he's all but convinced that he can feel an added weight in his palm, the flesh seemingly more delicate, and the firmness of your nipples, now temporarily solidified, influenced by something other than him.
Taking the left boob into his calloused hands and gently holding it fully, Wriothesley then leans in and showers kisses onto your right one. It tickles, your hand cupping the back of his head trying to pull him away but he's stubborn.
"Wriothesley" You stutter breathlessly.
"Are they sore?" He asks, inspecting them closer before poking his tongue out to flick against your nipple. You shift beneath him, eyes fluttering as your grip tightens in his hair. Your mouth moves, attempting to convey that it's not too serious, just a bit tender. However, with his tongue lapping at your erect nipples, there's hardly a chance to speak. When Wriothesley pulls away there's a string of saliva that connects his lips to your breast, and the lewd sight forces a moan to ripple from your throat.
"Slowly..." You instruct when he begins to exert more force, "Wriothesley!"
He stops, looking at you through his lashes and a pout on his lips.
"I'm on my period"
He blinks, "So?"
"You didn't just ask that"
"I did. Why? What's wrong with it" He questions, lip curling into a pout.
You flash a smile as you run your fingers through his hair, further disheveling it.
Wriothesley exhales contentedly, causing a shiver and goosebumps to ripple up your arms as the warm air from his lips fans your nipples. He then continues to bury his head between your breasts, nose nuzzling against the soft skin.
"I love you so much"
"I love your boobs!"
"They're so pretty and soft"
His whispers persist, his voice mellifluous and slightly slurred, as if intoxicated by the physical connection and you find it utterly endearing and adorable, so you let him remain in his zone, even as a throbbing ache persists between your legs.
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☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
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badingsm · 8 months
Text
Warnings: really cliché, buncha fluffs, basically giving birth, cursing, and I don't know what else.
Hi bading! Some of you requested, so I delivered 🙌
Here's Mama DADDY Natasha welcoming her baby and her baby baby!
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"So, who's the father?" Yelena prodded for the nth time. Being your best friend, she stated that she should be the first to know whose baby it is that you're carrying.
It's been nine months filled with cravings, mood swings, and sleepless nights. Yesterday was supposedly your due date, but all you've got are the usual cramps and pains and still no baby.
As much as you love your soon-to-be child, you cannot wait for this whole pregnancy thingy to be over because of how much discomfort it causes you.
Especially to your back and limbs.
One time, you even cried when you couldn't reach to tie your shoe because of your developed bump, but good thing Natasha was there to help you solve your crisis, even though you snapped at her for seeing her face.
Simply her face.
The one that makes you frustrated when you see it but weirdly sad when you don't.
Yeah, you're really pregnant.
Going back to Yelena.
"No one. I made this myself, so stop being nosy." You scoffed at her, already imagining her face if you ever told her that her older sister—Natasha fucking Romanoff—was the one who got you pregnant in the first place.
"Oh, come on," She whined, flashing her famous frown in hopes that it could make you give in, but she's in no luck as you just raised your brows at her. "If I ever get someone pregnant, I swear, I won't tell you!"
"I'm pretty sure it'll be Bishop anyway." You shrugged nonchalantly, laughing at her gobsmacked expression. "What? Everyone sees it, Belova."
With a huff, she left you alone, probably to hide her blushing cheeks because it made her feel embarrassed.
-
You were currently in the kitchen with Wanda, watching her bake some cookies, when you felt another contraction coming your way. At the same time the pain arrived, you felt hot liquid gushing down your legs, causing you to look down to see the trickling wet patch in your jeans.
Panic settled in your chest. "Wands, Wands, Wands!"
"Yes, yes, yes?" She joked while mixing the batter in the bowl, still not realizing the state that you're in.
"I think.." You breathed deeply. "I think my water just broke!"
Just like the flash of light, Wanda looked up to see you sweating while you tried to regulate your breath. "Oh, god! Wait, wait, wait—I'll call Yelena!"
You nodded, not being able to form coherent words at that moment because you tried not to panic, but that didn't help because you just realized that Natasha was away on a mission and she probably wouldn't be back for another 3 days.
That thought alone made you whine with a frustrated, pained sigh.
That bastard.
-
You didn't know how it happened, but the next thing you noticed was that you were in the hospital bed with oxygen attached to your nose, and the doctors and nurses were assisting you.
"Oh.." You clenched your jaw, your face turning red due to the unstoppable force of pain flooding you, "Can you fucking get Romanoff here? If I have to suffer, so does she!"
"Why would you ask for my sister when you're-"
"Just call Natasha!" You yelled impatiently. "And fucking make it fast!"
Yelena was really confused and still hadn't processed everything since her mind was still in panic mode, but she did as she was told, dialing her sister and quickly instructing her to come to the hospital because you're oddly looking for her.
When Natasha heard the news that you were about to give birth, she didn't think twice about abandoning the mission and driving fast toward the hospital that Yelena had told her you were admitted to. Along the way, she had this smile on her face that she couldn't brush off, no matter how much she tried.
 "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here!"
After what feels like years, Natasha finally entered the delivery room where you were lying down. She wore her scrubs, not minding the way her sister had looked at her with raised brows when she signaled her to come out. "Yel, wait outside. I'll handle it from here."
"Why would you want to-"
"For fuck's sake, just go!" You screamed madly, causing the blonde to narrow her eyes before leaving but not before muttering her line.
"сука!"™
You had been suffering for fourteen hours of labor, and the baby still didn't want to go out yet, so your patience was wearing thin. It turns out that the contractions that you were feeling are not the usual ones that you get. You were already laboring and dilating without being aware of it.
"You!" You pointed at Natasha. "Come here! Faster, goddamn it!"
"Okay, okay, chill." The redhead obliged without another thought, grabbing your hand for support, and she tried her best not to wince with how hard you squeezed it when you felt another wave of pain, but she couldn't, muttering a low curse, "Shit."
"Oh, you think that hurts?" You glared at her sarcastically. "This is your fault anyway, so don't-"
"Baby's crowning." Your doctor interrupted your seemingly endless banter cautiously, "Give me five hard pushes, okay?"
If you weren't in pain, you'd be touched knowing that your baby wouldn't go out of you without the presence of her Mama Nat, but no, you're in pain since you refused to take some epidurals. Nonetheless, you obliged.
You pushed, screamed, and teared up until you finally heard the wonderful sounds of cries from your newly born child.
"It's a healthy baby girl! Congratulations, Mrs. and Mrs. Romanoff!"
"Oh, we're not really-"
Natasha cuts off your exhausted rambling as she flashed a teary smile to the doctor who's holding your gays' baby.
"Thank you, Doctor Alison." She couldn't take her eyes off of the wailing child even if she tried, murmuring a small, "Beautiful."
You tugged at her hand, making her snap back into reality. "Congratulations, nemesis. Such a sharpshooter!"
She laughed lowly at the second one before smiling genuinely at you.
"Congratulations and thank you, Y/n," Natasha sincerely mumbled before she slowly leaned down to kiss your forehead. "I love you."
You were surprised with the sudden confession, but some part of you is already aware of those weird feelings that she gives you—love. Before, using the word love beside Natasha's name was like the most impossible thing that could've ever existed, but now, as you realize all those moments and bickerings that you grew fond of as time went by, it doesn't feel impossible anymore.
You love Natasha Romanoff.
In addition to that, it's a moment of vulnerability, and it was rare for Natasha to show that. It's her defense mechanism, so she always makes sure that she has these walls to protect her, but now you could see it in her eyes—feel it.
She trusts you with all her heart.
And since it's a serious moment for you both, it made you uneasy, not being used to the softness just yet. That's why you tried to make it more normal between you two.
You gave her a tired smirk and decided to tease her a bit. "I know you do, Romanoff. I know you do."
"Okay, don't Han Solo me now!" Natasha chuckled lowly. "I know you—you love me too. That's why we keep on beakering. It's like our love language."
Our love language.
"You're so full of yourself." You scoffed sarcastically, though you couldn't help but agree. Not that she needs to know that. "Maybe I'll love you if you promise to change Willow's diaper for the first six months."
"Willow?" Natasha questioned, rubbing the pad of her thumb with your still intertwined hands, ignoring your second remark, "Is that her name?"
"Mhm." You hummed lazily, your eyes now becoming heavier. "Natalia Willow Y/l/n-Romanoff."
-
You obviously woke up with a painful lower body; your throat felt dry as you tried to slowly get used to the blinding light.
You saw Natasha snoring adorably beside you, her head placed above your intertwined fingers. You giggled quietly at how clingy she's suddenly become after all those banters that you two have shared before. You gently woke her up, making her stir a few times before she finally opened her forest green eyes.
"Hi," Natasha mumbled with a soft smile. "How are you?"
"Thirsty," You muttered, your voice raspy, making her quickly get up to go over the table on the corner and fill the glass with water before giving it to you, guiding you as you finished it even though you insisted that you could drink on your own. "Hi."
"Hey, detka." She chuckled at your shy side. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah," You nodded honestly, "Where's the-"
"So where's my niece?"
"-baby?" You finished while eyeing Yelena, who had just barged in and was slightly restless but really excited.
Natasha mumbled, "They should be here-"
Knock knock!
"-now.." Natasha scoffed, "Yeah, we should really stop cutting ourselves off."
The nurse came in with the small crib, where a peacefully sleeping baby was placed. She was now wrapped in her pinkish blanket to keep her warm, and her tiny hands were hidden with her mittens.
"Oh, oh, oh!" Yelena clapped quietly, running towards the crib to catch a glimpse of her niece, but when she's already gazing at your child, her mouth falls open in shock. "Looks exactly like—what the fu-"
"Language." Captain America entered with a light knock; he was with the other Avengers behind him as they walked carefully inside the room.
"So, why does Y/n's baby have red hair?" Kate questioned, voicing one of the thoughts that was playing in Yelena's head. Thor then entered with a booming clap, having just arrived since he still fetched Jane along the way, causing your baby to be startled and open her eyes slightly, but enough to reveal the shade of her gems. "And green eyes?!"
"It's a fucking baby Romanoff, y'all!" Tony smirked to himself, "Knew you two were kinky shits!"
The others were still pretty stunned at the revelation. Some were staring deeply at the resemblance while either having their eyes wide or their mouth hanging open. Pretty much both. So, when they finally recovered-
"Natasha?!" All of them turned to the redhead who was drinking some water, nonchalantly, on the corner.
"Yeah, it's a long story, but let's just all welcome my daughter—Willow, yeah?"
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