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#and I’m not being dismissive of her struggles
int3rnetprincess · 1 day
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guys guys guys listen…
pervy!stepmom!wanda who innocently offers you some wine after dinner, only so she can slip a few libido pills into your drink. she sees you start to change your position more frequently, your furrowed brows and foggy eyes struggling to focus on the movie.
you clear your throat, shaking your head hoping for some type of clarity. the more wine you had the more clouded your head became. wanda saw you try to move, assuming you’re going to put the drink down she places her hand on your lap, watching you squirm and stare at it.
“is there something wrong with the wine honey? It’s a shame you don’t like it, it’s one of my favourites.”
you quickly dismissed her words, saying it’s delicious and that you were just a lightweight. you take a big sip and hold the glass closely to your chest, shrinking further back into the couch. she smiles at your unconscious need to please her. you are so easy to manipulate, feeling guilty over every little thing.
you finish the glass, cheeks flushed and lips pink. your head was pounding and the ache between your legs was blinding. you figured it was because it was a warm night and that you were sitting next to Wanda, your stupidly attractive step mother.
you wanted to throw your head back in frustration. you didn’t want to get up and go to the bathroom, it would be the smarter option but purely because if you tried to do something under your blanket, you wouldn’t mind getting caught ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა
feeling bold, you do exactly what your thoughts tell you to, unaware that Wanda is discreetly watching your every move. your hand slides into your shorts, gasping when you feel how wet you really are.
“Are you okay, dear?” She shifts closer, arm swung over the couch and curving behind you to play with your hair, purposely pressing her breasts up against your arm. You bite your lip, rubbing yourself to the sound of her silky voice.
“I-I’m okay, I- ah..” You moan, your hips bucking into your own hand. You’re so far gone, you weren’t even aware of the sound you had just made. Or the wet sounds coming from your pussy. She looked at you pitifully, you were being so painfully oblivious she started to feel bad for feeding you all those pills.
She doesn’t say another word, gripping the blanket and pulling it off so quickly it makes you clamp your legs together in surprise. You yelp, ready to pull your hand out of your shorts before she stops you.
“Keep going.” She orders, making you look at her dumbly.
“what?” you ask breathlessly. your chest rises and falls quickly, legs twitching in anticipation. she holds your face in her hand, her red lips whispering against yours.
“I want you to touch yourself in front of me.”
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just-rogi · 1 month
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#like I’m sorry#I love my best friend so so so much and she’s perfect and kind and has gone above and beyond to be rational and to be there for me#and I get it she’s an autistic woman and has faced adversity and has had to go on medical leave and that’s hard#and I’m not being dismissive of her struggles#but it makes me so angry because her parents unconditionally love her and her siblings and have always made her feel that way#and has never worried about money as a kid#and yeah her relationship with her parents isn’t perfect of course#but she literally cannot understand domestic violence beyond just reading about it in a book#like she did everything she can to understand and relate#but sometimes I want to scream because I feel so alone#because no one in my life fucking understands why I’m the way I am#and I’ve been struggling the past two months really badly with coping#I’ve had to go to the doctor to ask about PTSD and not like the tik tok OWO kind#but the I was in a car crash as a kid with my dad as a drunk driver and I keep getting flashbacks in my daily life to being a small child#that are impacting by daily life and interactions#and like I feel so fucking alone#and to hear from my friends ‘your right this is horrible and toxic but lots of people go through this’ ISNT FUCKING HELPING#I don’t want to hear that it’s normal I want to feel fucking safe in my bedroom without my mother blowing up my phone or calling the cops#I am unwell and I’m so stressed and I’m so sick and I can’t cope with this and none of the therapists I’ve tried to find handle ptsd#especially not therapists of color#I’m angry and I’ve been getting worse over the past two months#and not that it matters but due to ^^^ reasons my birthday has always been insanely fucking bad for me#like depression watch bad. when I turned twenty I was vividly hallucinating while walking around campus for a week straight having#flashbacks in class and I had to be taken out of the auditorium because I was physically unwell and couldn’t stop crying and shaking#and I told my friend I didn’t want to celebrate I just wanted to sit on her couch and not be alone and she fucking ditched me#because an emergency with a different friend came up the night before#like I have a history of suicidal ideation traumatic flashbacks eating disorders and self harm and I’m asking you to be with me on a very#upsetting day and you call me the night before telling me we have to cancel because another friend is having a bigger crisis#and like you don’t even feel a little bad about it??#I’m just upset and scared and I’ve got a doctors appointment tomorrow and I’m not in reality right now and that’s scary
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It isn’t her fault, but I swear to God today was the worst day of therapy I’ve had since I started therapy ever
It’s not even her fault, she was doing what she was supposed to. I was dead ass just trying to talk about how I have been not doing great the past 2 to 3 weeks when she started providing resources that weren’t really currently relevant to what I was actually trying to talk about and she kept getting hung up on Old stuff** that had to be partially included for context so she would stop insisting that the issue must instead be X Y or Z.
Her inability to actually listen and absorb the info ended in me talking about traumatic ass shit right at the end and now I’m pissed off bc she wasn’t letting me talk about what was actually going on and that’s what I NEEDED to talk about. I didn’t need to talk about my ex’s, or how I’m dealing with trying to get child support, or how my mom let a pedo play cat and mouse with me for almost 7 fucking years. I literally have bigger things that are affecting me right now and I care about those more than this shit I’ve rehashed over and over again. I want to rehash it, but not right after you ask me how the past two weeks were and I’m actually trying to tell you about how hard they were
**I will give it to her that the old stuff was extremely traumatizing and definitely worth talking about but not at this moment like come on
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cherryredstars · 6 months
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Not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m new to tumbler :D but hi love ur writing followed you in an instant!
I was wondering if you could write something for a very low self esteem, inexperienced reader who goes to uni so is like 21 or something and is Miguel’s neighbor. They live in this building and their other neighbor is a rude lady who complains at the slightest Noise basically. she doesn’t dare bother Miguel but is always bothering the reader since reader can’t tell her to f off. Reader is just such sweet chubby lil cinnamon roll :(
Idk if I should have been less descriptive or more TvT; ?
Anyway hope you’re doing great :D don’t forget to hydrate ♥️
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1K Prompts
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Sexual Touching (With Clothes on), Slight Fluff
Summary: He helps you, you help him.
A/N: This is perfect, don’t worry, love!!!
Word Count: 2.4K (Not Edited)
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This is most definitely going to leave you a crying wreck in your bathroom later.
Your nerves were already on high alert with finally becoming independent and moving out of the college dorms, that pesky exam and assignment you procrastinated on working on, and your job has been firing and hiring people left and right. The last thing you needed was your cranky old neighbor, (it is crazy to think that you once thought she was going to be a kind old woman who would give you cookies when she was lonely), to come banging on your door with a  list of complaints and reasons why she could get you evicted. You do not know what to do, never being in this type of situation before. Honestly, you do not even know about half the things this woman is accusing you of. 
You can only stand there, hand tightly holding the door open as you try not to cry from stress. In your head, you are counting in an effort to make sure your breaths are coming out evenly. The last thing you want is to have a panic attack and have your neighbor add the threat of a mental hospital to the list. You nod along weakly to what she says, letting out whispered apologies that only seem to make her angrier. 
“You useless teenagers and your need to ruin good things, don’t think I forgot when you tr-”
“Is there a problem here?”
His voice is deep and smooth, causing the both of you to jolt. You visibly relax when you turn your head to find Miguel standing outside his apartment door. He has just gotten back from work and running errands, his lab coat draped over his arm as he holds paper bags in his arms. His hair is slightly tousled from the autumn breeze, and a few strands of his black hair are scattered with grey. His sweater hugs his arms and torso in a way that is mouthwatering, and you quickly look away when his eyes meet yours.
Miguel is the only neighbor you really know. He had helped you the first time you moved in, hearing the way you struggled to bring some things up to your apartment. He offered to help, carrying in boxes faster than you could into your apartment. When you had gotten furniture, he was happy to come over and assemble it for you. He is so kind to you, offering to help with a leaking pipe or to answer any of your questions about how to do something. You might have grown a slight crush on your neighbor, something that slightly freaked you out when you realized because of the obvious age gap the two of you have. You have not even finished college yet and he is in his mid-thirties working in a big corporate lab. 
Miguel clears his throat and you look back at him. He stares at you expectantly, totally ignoring the stuttering woman who tries to answer his question. He is only ever interested in what you have to say. You flush under his intent gaze, quickly shaking your head. You do not want to cause more problems, and you definitely do not want to have your cranky neighbor form a bigger vendetta against you. 
Miguel’s eyebrow raises, definitely catching the anxious expression on your face. He hums dismissively after a minute, eyes lazily trailing back to the older woman. His nose scrunches up slightly at the sight of her and he looks away again as the woman stops trying to defend herself. Miguel shrugs, the paper bags rustling with their contents. He turns to face you, once again ignoring the older woman. 
“Then you wouldn’t mind helping me put away my groceries, right? Can’t get my keys with my hands full,” Miguel speaks in a lazy drawl. 
You are quick to nod your head in agreement, stepping out of your doorway and closing the door. The woman steps back, a displeased look on her face as she watches you walk over to Miguel. Miguel keeps his eyes trained on you, watching everything you do. You are shy when you smile up at him. With your back turned towards the old woman, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him. His eyes instantly snap to your lips, intently studying your exaggerated words. His eyes seem to darken for a second before he blinks and it is gone. His eyes trail back up to your eyes and he tilts his head slightly down. 
“Keys are in my pants pocket.”
You quickly nod, whispering out an ‘okay’. Your face burns as you have to get closer to him to not knock into his arms. The angle is slightly awkward, your hands slip into his pants pocket and your face burns from having your hand so close to his…thing. As you try to find his keys, Miguel looks down at you with a heated look. He watches silently for a few minutes before looking back up and over your shoulder to the older woman. His face is masked in indifference, maintaining eye contact with her until she fidgets and turns away without saying a word. 
At the same time she walks into her own apartment, you make a sound of victory as you finally retrieve his keys. You dangle them in his face with a proud smile, and he gives you an amused smirk. He steps away from his apartment door, giving you room to step in front of him and unlock his door. As you insert the key, you feel Miguel press up against your back. His warmth seeps into your spine and you are quick to bite your tongue so you do not let out a squeal.  
His breath tickles your neck and ear, warm and slightly minty. “What did I tell you about standing up for yourself, hmm cariño?”
The question rumbles with his voice and you have to hold your breath in order to not make an embarrassing sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and instantly regret it. He has not moved his face yet, and you are a breath away from him. If you leaned forward the slightest bit, your noses would be touching. You gulp nervously, and Miguel’s eyes trail down to your lips once again. He lets out a deep hum as you lick them nervously. 
“I- she’s not that mean to me.” You whisper out in the older woman’s defense. You cannot help the way your lashes flutter as you try to meet his eyes. 
Miguel scoffs at your defense, finally backing away from you. He shifts his hold on the bags, freeing his hand to turn the doorknob. Your hand is still there, and your breath hitches when his large hand encompasses yours. His hand moves both yours and the doorknob, making a combined effort to open the door. You are still watching him from over your shoulder, mouth slightly opened in awe. Miguel looks down at you, something playful in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. 
“You’re blocking the doorway, cariño. The ice cream I got you is going to melt.”
Your blush returns from the pet name and you stutter out an apology as you rush inside his apartment. It’s warm, and you’re hit with the smell of him. You find the light switch and turn on the lights, flooding the whole place with a warm glow. Miguel follows you into the kitchen, placing the paper bags on the dining room table. He rummages through them, glaring at you when you try to grab one to start helping. His hands connect with something cold, and he pulls out a personal pint of ice cream. He hands it over to you and you turn it around to see the label. Your eyes instantly light up when you read the brand and flavor. Last week you had ranted to Miguel about how the grocery store did not have your favorite ice cream in stock as he was fixing a problem with your internet. The whole time he just hummed along, you did not actually think he was listening. 
He smiles softly at you as you beam up at him. He turns back to the groceries, sighing when he sees your hand reaching for the bags again. He turns to you with a bored expression. He gently removes your hands from the bag, telling you to go eat your ice cream before it melts. You grumble playfully under your breath, complaining about how you were supposed to be helping. He chuckles as he follows after you, getting a spoon out for you. 
“I thought the whole point was that I was supposed to help you put the groceries away, not eat them.” 
Your complaining is cut off by a yelp when Miguel grabs your waist. He lifts you up, putting you on top of the counter. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You squirm slightly from his proximity. 
“You can help me by sitting prettily and keeping me company. Tell me about your day.” 
He pulls away then, returning to the dining room table and carrying a bag to the counter next to you. Your eyes are still bashful as you watch him, quietly opening your ice cream and beginning to eat it. Miguel starts to pull contents from the bag and looks over at you expectantly. Hesitantly, you begin to go through your day, easing into it the more you talk. You speak between bites of ice cream, half paying attention to Miguel as he walks around the kitchen to place things in their proper places. Occasionally, he looks over at you as you speak, his eyes trained on the way you place the spoon in your mouth and lick at the delicious treat. 
You are almost done when he puts the last thing away. He walks over to you as you continue talking absentmindedly, just finished slipping the spoon out of your mouth again. You stop talking when Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, his thumb coming up the swipe at your lower lip. When he pulls it away, a bit of melted ice cream is stuck to his skin. His eyes meet yours again when he brings it to his mouth, licking it away. He hums in appreciation for the taste. 
Your mouth drops open with a gasp as you watch, eyes trained on the pink muscle. You watch as his lips form a sly smile, and you blush as you look back into his eyes. But his eyes are still trained on your parted mouth, eyes dilated and hungry. He leans forward slightly, hand returning to rub at your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. He is not kissing you exactly, only sucking on your lip until it is swollen and red. He gives it a small nip before he pulls away, his hands falling to rub your thighs. It causes a small whimper to escape your mouth and Miguel basks in the noise. 
His hand seeps closer and closer to the area between your thighs, grabbing the carton of ice cream and moving it to the side. His hands hastily return to the area between your thighs, fingers brushing against your center. Your breath hitches and you look down to where his hands are. Your attention is snapped away when his gravelly voice meets your ears. 
“Continue with the story, querida. You don’t sound like you finished.”
You stutter over your words, the topic of conversation blanking from your mind. Miguel chuckles knowingly, his fingers continuing to brush up and down until they land on your clothed bud. He presses into it hard enough so you can feel it through the fabric of your pants and panties, gently reminding you where you left off. You nod nervously, hands snapping up to meet his shoulders as you feel wetness rushing into your panties. You stutter and choke on your words, eyes shutting as you rotate your hips sloppily into his hand. The movement is jerky, and you feel slightly embarrassed at how painfully obvious it is that no one has ever touched you like this before. But Miguel seems to like it, likes the idea that you’re untouched and he is the only person who has seen you like this. 
It gets even better when you make those soft noises, cutting yourself off and having to be reminded about what you were saying. Miguel continues his hand movements, pressing into you and rubbing and stroking. Your wetness has seeped through your panties, dampening the material of your leggings. If you were not lost in how good it feels, you would have been grossed out and uncomfortable. A weak call of his name escapes you and Miguel looks up from your cunt to look at your face. He hums in acknowledgement, watching as you try to pull his face closer to yours in a kiss. 
He swiftly avoids it, and you would have curled into yourself at the blunt rejection if you did not become distracted by his mouth suck and licking along your neck and jaw. Your mouth falls open with a moan, head leaning back to give him more room. He groans against your skin, fingers pressing tight circles to your clit. With a few hard circles, your back arches and your hold on him tightens. Gasping moans leave you and you feel the band in you snap, releasing more wetness into your panties as you finish. Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, keeping his fingers to your bud as you ride out the orgasm. Once you slump back down, he pulls his hands away. As you catch your breath, Miguel cleans up the mess on the counter. He reaches over, closing your melted ice cream and putting the spoon in the sink. 
You are still in a daze when he pushes the warm container in your hands, his own hands gentle as he lifts you off the counter. Your eyes are glossy in after-lust as he gently guides you out of his apartment and into yours. His warm hand leaves the small of your back, massaging your sides before he whispers a thank you into your ear for your help. You are only pulled completely out of your daze when you hear your door lock and close as Miguel leaves. You turn to look at the door, cheeks blazing as you clutch tightly onto your ice cream.
You are totally getting a noise complaint for that old woman tomorrow.
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Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4
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sweetestdesire · 1 year
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here have a random rafe thought: ok it’s bestie rafe. you got in an argument with him idk about what. but you ignore his calls and text + you decide to go get drunk at the island club. so you get hammered. jj is your waiter so you’re being flirty. well one of rafey’s friends spots you and calls him and is like uh rafe your girlfriend’s here drunk off her ass and flirting with maybank.
rafe pulls the whole she’s not my girlfriend (bc he’s in denial) the friend is like yeah whatever (bc everyone knows how you two feel about each other. and how handsy you are with each other and how protective rafe is) just come get your girl
so unknown to you rafe comes to pick you up and you’re like wtf are you doing here. cue another fight bc you’re bratty and then it finishes with smut
💓
WHAT’S MINE IS MINE
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WARNINGS: DUBIOUS CONSENT, hair pulling, extreme domination, choking kink, spanking, etc. 18+ readers only
PAIRING(S): Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader is Rafe Cameron’s, even if she doesn't know it.
"You broke his fucking arm!" Y/N snapped as she puffed her cheeks out, reaching to poke him in the ribs.
"He was touching you, Y/N.”
“I know how to take care of myself, Rafe. I’m a big girl.” She could feel how wild she must have looked, her hair falling out of its ponytail, fire in her eyes from the fight. Rafe wasn't wrong, she had plenty to drink, and JJ got a little too handsy with her at the Island Club.
"Most girls just say thanks.” Rafe mumbled, finally gaining some humility now that they were removed from the situation.
"Thanks." Y/N snapped, still glaring at him.
Rafe caught her hand as she went to poke him again, and she noted the strength of his fingers as she struggled against his grip. She swung her other hand around, and he caught that one just as easily. She glanced down at his fingers curled around her wrist and dragged her eyes up to his. His gaze met hers steadily.
"Let me go or I'll bite you.” Y/N declared, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaky as she felt.
Rafe leered at her and shrugged his shoulders, his eyes never leaving her face. With a snarl, she twisted down to him, gnashing her teeth that was mostly playful. She felt his laugh vibrate through her as she locked her jaw on his arm, gnawing like she was trying to chew her way through. When that failed to move him, she tried a different tactic. Gathering up spit, she used her tongue to coat his arm in saliva.
He yanked his arm away, wiping it against the couch, and Y/N used her freedom to poke him in the ribs again, laughing at the apparent disgust on his face. This turned out to be a mistake, and he snatched her hand with a growl, pushing her back into the couch, and swinging over her in one smooth motion, pinning her hands.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of a brat?" Rafe said, not quite managing to hide his smile.
"It's called strategy.” Y/N replied primly, squirming under his weight.
"Is that why you're pinned against the couch?" He drawled, that hungry look back in his eyes.
"You win some, you lose some.” She dismissed, with a light laugh.
Her attempt at lightening the situation fell flat, and she felt her heart rate double as he leaned in, and dragged his lips up her neck.
"You know," Rafe rumbled. "I've been thinking a lot about what happened between us a few months ago at Topper’s party.”
"Oh?” Y/N stuttered out, knowing he could feel her thudding heartbeat beneath his lips as he kissed his way up her neck.
"If I remember right, it went something like this.” He smirked, and nibbled her neck.
Rafe bit deeper, his hands tightening further on her wrists as she writhed around, trying to avoid his sharp teeth. He stilled and looked down at her. His lips came down hard, almost bruising in their intensity, and his hands left hers, tangling themselves in her hair and drawing her closer.
Y/N gasped against his mouth, reeling from shock and the excited lurch in her gut, and he took the opening to force his tongue in, angling her head and deepening the kiss. She bit his tongue, and he reeled back, eyes flashing.
"Are you going to behave, or do I need to make you?"
"What do you plan on doing to me?" Y/N attempted to sound disapproving, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from his lips, and she liked the sound of punishment more than she should.
"Keep misbehaving and you'll see.” Rafe warned, lowering his lips to hers again, one hand gripping her jaw.
He kissed her again, biting her lip harshly as she whimpered. When his tongue wormed into her mouth, she tried to push it out with hers, as he began frantically kissing her. His tongue dominated her mouth, wrapping around her tongue and probing against her teeth.
Without any conscious permission, her hands climbed to his shoulders, and he growled approvingly as sharp nails raked down his back. His teeth pushed against hers as she raked down his back again. He broke the kiss minutes or hours later, and rested his forehead against hers, breathing harshly.
"I don't think you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that.” Rafe said quietly, and the sincerity in his voice shot straight to her core.
Y/N covered it by ducking her head, but his fingers caught her chin, lifting it, and she met his eyes. Whatever he saw there made him lower his lips to hers again with a groan. This kiss was different, though. The fury and hunger were gone, and what was left was unexpectedly sweet and soft. She bit his lip and ran her tongue over his lips, sucking and pulling. There was silence except for their panting breaths, and the rustle of their clothes as they moved against each other.
Rafe’s hand trailed down to her shirt, revealing again her bra, and her heaving chest. Her breath caught in her throat as he lowered his lips to her breasts with a final, burning look. His hands were gentle, stroking her breast through the cups of her bra, but his teeth were ruthless, biting and marking and claiming.
When Rafe pulled away, her skin glistened wetly, bruising even as she watched. He rumbled in satisfaction, and repeated the motion, until her breasts were swollen, skin broken and sensitive.
"Take off your shirt.” Rafe commanded, lips full and eyes bright.
Y/N remembered his warning, and some idiot part of her brain replied, “Make me."
His answering smile was all pointed edges and signs flashing danger. “I thought I told you to behave."
"What makes you think I'll do as I'm told?" She shot back, immediately regretting the words as he lifted himself off her, dragging her from the couch and into the bedroom.
Y/N struggled, and he locked his arms around her, bending her over the mattress and pushing her face deep into the covers as she struggled to breathe. He yanked at her shirt, and it came away with a clatter of buttons and a few ominous pops. He pushed one hand against her head as she attempted to raise it, fingers curling warningly in her hair.
With his other hand, he unsnapped her bra, worming his fingers up and around to her nipple and pinching sharply. She yelped into the blankets as he continued his assault, bruising her nipple with his rough fingers. His teeth sunk deep into her shoulder, and her bra was pulled off with the same carelessness and ferocity as her shirt.
Without warning, Rafe picked her up, throwing her whole body onto the bed. When she spun around, attempting to roll up and away, he pounced, pinning her shoulders with a feral smile. He dropped his teeth to her uncovered breasts, and lathed them with his tongue, coaxing her abused nipples to attention. He rolled a nipple between his teeth as she whimpered and struggled, before he bit down, sucking forcefully.
A small squeak worked its way up her throat, and he paused his torment to grin at her. “I did warn you."
Y/N turned her head away, trying to control her breathing, only for him to yank it back sharply, fingers snarled in her hair. Rafe kissed her again as one hand continued its assault, rolling and pinching and stroking. She whimpered into his mouth, and their teeth clinked together as he grinned at the sound.
"I like that sound a lot more than what's usually coming out of your mouth.” Rafe growled against her lips.
Y/N’s witty retort was muffled by his lips pressing against hers, and his hand moved between their bodies, fumbling with the catch on her pants. Her pants were removed with a rustle of fabric, and she squirmed as the cold air of the room assaulted her. His shirt followed shortly after, and she had a moment to appreciate the view before he squatted between her legs.
Rafe was silent, and stared down at the length of her body with her bruised chest heaving. She attempted to bring her legs together, embarrassed, and he shoved them open, her hips popping with the force. His fingers curled in, and she huffed a breath, unable to take her eyes off him. His hands snapped to her waist, and with a rip, her underwear was gone.
"Rafe! How am I supposed to leave with half of my clothes destroyed?" Y/N protested, eyes still locked on his unmoving form.
Rafe looked up at her, and instead of responding, he ran his fingers through the curls on the top of her pussy, the tips of his fingers just brushing against her clit. She jerked up, instinctively chasing the feeling of his hard fingers on her. He smiled at that, and brushed her clit again, amused by the feeble thrusts of her hips. She had to bite back a frustrated scream as his hands skimmed back up her body.
"I don't know that you've been punished enough, so I don't think I should reward you yet.” Rafe hummed, looking at her disheveled state with dark pleasure.
Y/N set her jaw stubbornly. “I don't want a reward. Just give me some clothes and let me up. I want to go home." She almost believed herself.
Rafe cocked an eyebrow at that, and reached one hand down, skimming the entrance to her hot, throbbing pussy. She couldn't help the whine that escaped, or the twist of her hips, trying to coax him deeper.
"Yeah.” He rasped. “That’s what I thought."
Y/N blushed, feeling it travel down her chest and he watched the skin redden with interest. He tugged her to a sitting position, then pulled her from the bed, dragging her forward a few steps to a floor length mirror.
"You're going to watch yourself as you suck me off.” Rafe informed her, matter-of-factly.
"And what makes you think I'll do that?" She challenged, cheeks still flushed.
"Because I'll return the favor.” He said lowly, pushing on the top of her head.
Y/N couldn't help the wave of heat that rushed through her, or the dig of her teeth into her lip at the thought of him between her legs, his tongue swirling, squirming, and lapping. She clenched her legs, and turned her head, nose in the air.
"You really are just making this harder for yourself.” Rafe said, mildly. "If you would’ve just behaved, I could’ve had my cock buried in you by now."
Y/N tried to feign disinterest, even as her stomach turned over at his dark tone and her eyes flicked to his jeans, his cock clearly straining to get out. Good, if she wasn't getting what she wanted, then he wouldn't either. She twirled away, attempting to bolt through the door, and he pinned her against a wall, dragging his lips up her neck, grinding his erection against her soft, round ass.
"Oh, no.” Rafe breathed. "You're not getting off that easily." He chuckled quietly and at the same time, sent his hand through the air to land on her ass with a sharp crack.
Her eyes widened as heat, then pain flashed through her. Before she could say anything, there was another crack, and another. She attempted to twist her body, but he merely gathered her hands in one of his, and slammed them against the wall, almost certainly bruising her wrists in the process.
That pain was overshadowed by the burning that was climbing up her ass, turning her whole body hot and tense. His hand came down again, again, and, after ten dizzying smacks, his hand came to rest on her ass, rubbing it softly to ease the sting.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" Rafe asked, sounding perfectly in control.
Between pants, she responded, “Bite me."
He clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Wrong answer.”
The pain resumed again, and with each smack, she fought back tears, until she was almost gasping with the effort.
"What about now?"
"I'm sorry!" Y/N finally squealed, as his hand began its descent for the ninth time.
Immediately, his hand was on her livid, inflamed ass, stroking it and running down the broken skin.
"That's better.” Rafe said, against her skin. "Good girl." And she tried so hard to be outraged, but the warmth in his tone made her flush with pleasure, even as his fingers stroked back and forth against her abused bottom.
"Now, do you want to behave, or do you want to keep mouthing off? I could happily spend all day marking up this gorgeous ass.” He said, punctuating his statement with a reverent brush of his fingers on her cheeks, his rough fingerpads leaving a tingling trail.
"I'll behave.” Y/N whispered, shivering and twitching under his gentle touch.
Rafe stroked her hair and turned her around, gently wiping her tears. He put a pillow on the floor and guided her down. She went, flinching at the feel of her bruised ass coming into contact with her legs as she folded them beneath her. She sat still, breath still coming in quick pants, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips nervously.
He looked down at her for a long moment, seeming to enjoy the view, eyes darting over her battered body with heated desire. Then, he dropped his jeans, and Y/N came face to face with a monster.
Unconsciously, she licked her lips again, wincing at her sore ass, her eyes locked on the cock that was about to ravage her throat. She enjoyed blowjobs, but she would rarely deepthroat, her gag reflex far too sensitive for such rough treatment. Her eyes lifted to his, and she shook her head ever so slightly.
"It's too big.” Y/N trailed off diffidently.
With a wolfish smile, Rafe guided his cock to her lips, fingers in her hair and said simply, “Try your best.”
Carefully avoiding her reflection in the mirror, Y/N reached out with one hand. It dwarfed her. She had a vivid flash of being pulled down on top of that cock, her pussy straining as it split her like a log, and her stomach panged with desire, shooting down to her twitching pussy. She could feel her arousal dripping on to the cushion.
Rafe seemed impatient, and rocked his hips forward, smearing her lips and cheeks with his pre-cum. Nervously, she reached up her other hand, and slowly began massaging down the length of his rigid cock. He groaned, eyes half closing, but still fixated on her, undisguised lust and satisfaction in his eyes.
With a quick look upwards at his unwavering gaze, she stretched out her tongue and rasped it along the tip of his cock, savouring the saltiness of the pre-cum glazing her lips. His hips twitched and twisted as she began licking at the top and slowly made her way down and around the length of his cock, before coming to his balls.
Y/N pumped his cock with both hands, her saliva easing the motion, and flicked her tongue over his balls, burying her face in and licking deeply. Rafe pulled her hands away for a moment and rested the length of his cock on her face, his expression feral.
Rafe’s eyes were dark, malicious, and hungry. She regretted, for a brief moment, all the times she had teased him with her body. All the times she had "accidentally" brushed against him, letting him feel her soft curves pressed against him.
Y/N remembered those burning eyes whenever she would eat in front of him, closing her eyes and moaning slightly at the taste. She assumed the hunger in his gaze was for her food. Rafe had been imagining this. There was no doubt this was a fantasy of his, and she wondered what else he had been dying to do to her. Her pussy twitched as she realized she might find out.
Y/N was brought out of her reflections as his cock throbbed against her tongue, bobbing in her mouth. She resumed licking and sucking, cramming inch by inch into her mouth. She got as deep as she could and breathlessly pulled back.
"It's too big.” She insisted, between pants. "I can't fit it all."
His hands stroked her hair, tugging her back on to his dick. Rafe smiled and that really should have warned her as he slammed his cock as deep as he could into her throat. She still only managed half, and gagged viciously around it, saliva starting to pool in her mouth. He pulled her off by her hair, laughing lowly at her indignant look, and dragged her back to his cock.
Each thrust buried his cock further in her throat, blocking her windpipe. She heaved, eyes beginning to roll with panic. She pushed against his thighs, digging her nails in and he let her go. She gagged again as she pulled away from his cock, and took in heaving gulps of air, blinking away the tears in her eyes to glare at him. He traced her swollen lips with his finger and smiled down at her.
"Keep going.” Rafe instructed.
She opened her mouth, fully intending to tell him where he could stick his cock, before the sound of whistling air echoed in her mind. He took advantage of her mouth hanging agape, and crammed his cock back in.
"Keep your eyes open.” He commanded, his voice tight with need.
Y/N pried open her eyes, only for them to squeeze shut as she gagged and convulsed, another half inch sliding down her throat. Rafe pulled his cock out and watched with satisfaction as she came undone, heaving for air, drool dripping from her swollen lips, smeared all over her pretty face, her eyes glazed and faraway.
"Lick my balls.” Rafe instructed, and she was eager to comply.
Y/N sucked and swallowed at his balls, her fingers dancing along them as they gleamed wetly. She buried her face in them, heedless of the drool she was covering herself with. He tugged at her hair, bringing her back up. She drooled and gagged and writhed on his cock, feeling submissive and small, and hornier than she ever had in her life.
Her pussy dripped unabashedly, and without her realizing, one of her hands drifted down. The slightest touch sent a jolt through her, and she would have panted with need, if it weren't for the cock locked in her throat.
"Look at yourself.” Rafe grunted, voice strained with the need to cum.
And she did. She looked terrible. Her makeup was running in streaks, her whole face was shining and red with exertion. There was a manic glint in her eyes, and her pussy was dripping on the pillow as her fingers plucked and pulled at her clit. He reached down and tugged her hand away, placing her hands on his thighs instead.
"No playing with yourself. You were a little brat, so I get to cum first." Rafe growled, tugging on her hair harshly.
Y/N was filled with an impotent anger, and her fingers twisted and scratched at his thighs, curling into fists against his legs. She pulled back, catching her breath, then pounced on his cock again, taking out her frustration with her mouth. He reached his hands down to her neck, wrapping his fingers around her throat.
His hips snapped and her face was mashed into his pubes as she gagged and twisted under his hands. Rafe jerked, groaning her name so lasciviously that her fingers moved from his leg, trying once more to reach her dripping pussy as she felt his cock throbbing in her throat.
Rafe held her there for a while, hips snapping forward as he dumped his cum straight down her throat. As her throat relaxed, she felt him pull out and she collapsed against his legs. His fingers stroked her hair.
"You did so good, Y/N. I never imagined that you could swallow it all." He sounded worn out, too and he continued stroking her. "I'm so proud of you."
Rafe stepped away from her, causing her to whimper in protest. Shame burned hotly for a moment at her neediness, but then he was back, gently cleaning her face with a towel, wiping away her running makeup, and kissing each part as it was cleaned.
Unconsciously, Y/N leaned into the treatment, feeling light and untethered to everything except him. She rubbed her head against his thigh, almost purring with pleasure at his fingers through her hair.
"I knew you were perfect for me, but this just takes the cake.” Rafe muttered, easing her onto the bed.
She blinked at him, sleepy and content, hoping he would curl up next to her, but he settled between her legs instead, spreading them wide. She watched him as he stared at her hungry pussy, grasping for a cock or fingers to fill it. His fingers traced their way up her thighs, his eyes still locked on her streaming cunt.
As his fingers neared her throbbing entrance, she twitched. Her body was overstimulated, and her clit was a live wire, waiting to electrocute her. With gentle fingers, Rafe pried open her pussy lips and stared into her depths as she writhed on the bed, the ache traveling up her entire body.
Y/N needed to cum. She needed to come apart around his fingers and cock and tongue, again and again. He knew this and he was teasing her, pressing open mouthed kisses to her thighs, bumping his nose against her swollen clit, watching as her pussy desperately clenched with need.
"Beg for it. Beg for me to eat you out." Rafe whispered hoarsely.
She whimpered, hands clenching and unclenching, toes curled, eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to catch her breath.
“Come on, Y/N.” He whispered. "Give in to me. You know that you want me just as bad. Beg for me. I want to hear you beg me to lick your sweet cunt."
She whined, attempting again to thrust against him and he caught her, smacking her bruised ass.
"Y/N.” He said warningly, as his mouth began to slide from her.
"I want you to eat my pussy.” She muttered, turning her face to the blanket.
"What was that?" She could picture his lascivious smile and growled unintelligibly.
"Please.” She gritted out, pussy clamping against nothing.
"Please, what?"
"Will you eat me out? Please, Rafe.“
"I don’t know.” His deep voice vibrated through her, shattering her control as she waited with clenched teeth. “I think you can do better." Rafe pulled completely away from her, pressing kisses to her thighs, before pushing himself up.
"Please, eat me out. I need you to bury your face in my cunt. I want to belong to you, and only you. Please, eat me out and make me yours, Rafe.” Y/N struggled to breathe. She was blushing furiously, her entire body taking on a pink hue.
"That’s my girl." Rafe smiled and kissed her thigh again. "Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, you’ve always belonged to me. You’re mine, Y/N.” His voice was dark and possessive, and his hands shot to her thighs, gripping them with bruising force.
Without warning, his tongue dragged up the length of her dripping cunt and she almost screamed. Her throat was too hoarse, however, so what came out was a sad little squeak. Rafe blinked at that, a grin stretching across his face. Her pussy spasmed, and she shrieked into the bed as he lapped his tongue deeper.
Rafe’s tongue flicked around her clit, and her legs clamped either side of his head, locking him in place and drawing him in. She whimpered and squealed, hips thrusting against his lips, and he sucked her clit into his mouth, rotating his tongue around it, and sucking deeper.
Just as the pressure had become almost unbearable, three of his long fingers slammed into her pussy, curling deftly, stroking some secret spot inside her. She wailed and thrashed, clenching clenching around his fingers and face.
"That's it.” Rafe whispered, sounding proud and awed. "You're such a good girl, so fucking sexy.”
Y/N came for what felt like hours, before finally collapsing on the bed, shaking, her pussy quivering and spasming still. He extracted himself, his face dripping, and licked his fingers clean with a satisfied noise, his eyes dark and intent on her as he did.
"Did you know that you're a squirter, Y/N?" Rafe grunted, wiping at his face. She didn’t respond, but instead stared sleepily back, her eyes drifting shut as her lips curled up in satisfaction.
"What a fucking sight.” He mumbled quietly to himself.
Rafe grinned as her limbs dropped to the bed, her mouth agape, her eyes glazed. Her vision swam back into focus, and she glanced up at him. He was kneeling over her, staring. His gaze was possessive and caring, his eyes roving over every inch of her. She twisted around to bury her face in his chest, nuzzling against him with a contented sigh. He sighed as well, draping his arm over her, tracing her curves.
They stayed like this for a while as she dozed, worn out from a long day. Eventually, he got up and she whimpered in protest, catching his arm and looking at him pleadingly.
"I just have to grab something. I'll be right back, baby." The pet name sent heat to her cheeks, and she collapsed back, staring at him as he sauntered out to the living room, still naked.
Y/N started to whimper as he disappeared from the view, craving the feeling of his hands on her again. Her soft whimpers grew louder and louder, and he reappeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water and looking far too amused.
Rafe sat her up and helped her drink, stroking her hair and saying under his breath what a good girl she was, and the words reignited the fire that had burned down in her stomach, sending warmth through her.
Y/N’s eyes began to close, and she shot him a tired, satisfied smile. His hands traced down to her spine as he returned her grin, looking more alive than she could ever remember seeing him.
-
TAGLIST: @lovedetlost @valeriiecameron @outerbankspov @ailee-celeste @adventuresinobx @tee-swizzle @pankowperfection @maybankslover @drewbooooo @penny4yourthoughts @variety-fangirl @fangirlwithlou @thecameronchronicles @lafantasiaworld @softsatnin @glutenfreepeach @blueicequeen19
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marcsburnerphone · 8 months
Text
wish I wasn't so hurt
Captain John price x f!reader
Summary:being johns’ wife has been full of security and safety and you never thought he’d be the one to taint that.
Warnings: angst,(hurt/comfort, 141 task force loves you, price is full of guilt, reader is struggling to process her feelings
Part two!! Find part one here - Part 1
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The cafe was quiet and warm when you entered, a few couples here and there were tucked away in booths chatting mindlessly. There was a dull ache spread throughout your chest and head from crying, ordering your coffee You couldn't help but notice the look of sympathy that sat on the barista's face.
You found a booth somewhere in the corner and dug your phone out of your purse and powered it on after having shut it off to stop the continuous buzzing it’d been doing in the car. To say the least it almost overheated and you couldn’t get to the silence button fast enough.
4 missed calls.
2 voicemails.
“I’m sorry.” 
“I’m so sorry, please forgive me.” 
“I have lost my mind, I know.” 
“Where are you my love?”
“Please just talk to me, or text either please.”
“I know I was wrong, it wasn’t my intention.” 
“Fuck em.” This one was from Simon and it made you giggle. 
A part of you wanted to message john and let him know you're okay to ease his mind, yet you didn’t instead you tucked your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. Maybe being this upset wasn't reasonable but the way he dismissed you with such harsh words intending to scare you, it was hard to get past.
Had you pushed too far? If you would have just left this could've been avoided, the anger that was spreading in your heart, the trouble of processing how to feel or move forward from this. To be fair John had never done anything to scare you or make you feel unsafe after all these years, even when he came home with blood still on his boots his eyes and voice were nothing but tender and loving. This is where you found trouble, how could he have changed so fast? How had he been so cold?
—--------
Back on base he was suffering, his heart ached with shame and remorse. How could he speak to you in such a way? Often he fell victim to his anger but this time so did you. He checked his phone continuously since you left here and it’d become clear to him you'd stopped somewhere before going home. He just wished he knew where.
The bowl of food hadn't been picked up from where your shaking hands had left it, the thought itself made him nauseous. He was fearful for the first time in a long while, for someone with so much control the thought of you leaving had him ready to crumble to the floor and maybe that's what he deserves.
The Men that were usually rowdy and causing commotion had fallen silent in his presence as he went for a cup of tea in the common area.
Price didn’t understand the blessing he held in the palm of his hands, to find someone as loving and caring as you was a once in a lifetime thing especially with the career he possessed. Bloody hands that get to go home to welcoming warm ones, a soldiers’ wish.  
—------------
You sat around trying to pinpoint where the confusion in how to feel was but hopelessly gave up and decided it was time to head home. The chilly air outside made you shiver on the way to your car. The drive home was draining, music filled the silence followed by the wisp of the heater. You'd sleep in the yard to avoid anything john if you weren't so scared of the dark. 
 As your car arrived on the familiar gravely ground to your home, a deep sigh escaped you. Clutching your keys you headed to the door and jumped at the voice that came through the camera thing. 
“Love please I’m sorry, where were you? I was worried?” The frantic yet somewhat calm voice of your husband came through. You thought of replying, yet you didn’t.
You walked inside, locking the door behind you and reset the alarm system. Your feet carried you mindlessly upstairs and to your bed, sleep came easy yet painfully that night but nevertheless any sleep was good sleep.
—-----------
John had never experienced your complete silence and couldn't take it. He decided he'd leave base early in the morning in hopes to resolve this with you, he wasn't even cleared to leave base but he couldn't really 100% be here if the idea of you hurting on your own was weighing on his mind.
—------------
Back at home was exactly that, you were wrong, any sleep wasn’t good sleep, the bed that you’ve slept in many nights without John had somehow felt emptier. Your head was pounding from a lack of sleep and crying, you waited for the ibuprofen you'd taken to kick in and just laid silently in bed . After a while you became lost in thought and missed the sound of tires on gravel but the slam of the door snapped you out of it. 
Like a child you acted like you were sleeping instead of running out of bed into his arms like you normally would. His heavy boots climbed the stairs into your bedroom, you were sure he noticed your breathing pattern was one of an awake person but couldn’t find a reason to care.
“Darling.” He whispers and you feel the dent of his weight crease on the bed.
“I don’t want to see you right now John.” But you had wanted to see him, you were just scared this time you’d see him differently.
“Please, my love, talk to me.” It was a plea as his hand went to your thigh rubbing small circles into your soft skin.
“No.” Tears began to well in your eyes again, thankfully you chose to lay facing the window. 
At that he raised from where he was sitting and rounded the bed kneeling beside your head, it broke his heart to see your puffy eyes and fresh tears streaking your beautiful face. His hand raised to caress your face and you stubbornly pulled away.
Instead of that he placed his forehead on yours not minding the way his rickety knees would ache tomorrow. 
“You scared me.” You whispered, voice quivering with emotion. 
“I know, I’m so sorry. I’d never hurt you willingly a day in my life. I just- I don’t know what came over me.” He kissed your forehead and then the tears that he was causing. 
“No you don’t understand John.” You flipped your body the other way, suddenly feeling overwhelmed in his presence.
He wasn’t going to leave you too hurt although you wished he would. There was just enough room on the bed for him to lay beside you. He formed his body to yours holding you firmly.
 At this you sobbed, the weight of your cries was devastating, as his body shook with yours he pulled you tighter to him. 
“Your my wife and my equal I was beyond wrong I- I’m ashamed of my behavior you didn’t deserve that nor it will never happen again I promise i’ll never be the man that makes you hurt please forgive me.” he whispered into your hair soothing your erratic breathing back to somewhat stable.
“John.” you said between hiccups.
“Yes my darling.” he didn't like when you called him by his name but at least you were speaking to him.
“Im tired.” he was fucking hurting inside.
“Then sleep.” he nuzzled his nose deeper into the scent of your shampoo, you just nodded your head and let your eyes close, exhaustion showed no mercy as you immediately fell into a deep slumber.
------------
the love on part 1 was amazing thankyou all from the bottom of my heart.
feedback and reposts are deeply appreciated;)
There will be a part 3;)
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reidsdaisies · 29 days
Note
congrats on 500!! Can you write forget me not 19 with spencer x fem!reader where she’s in an abusive relationship (only if you’re comfy with it obviously!) and calls him for help? Tysm!
༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; spencer reid x fem!reader
༉‧´ˎ˗ prompt(s); forget-me-not, 19 – "Could you please come and get me?"
༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; crying (reader), mentions of abuser (readers partner, not spencer) yelling, having been drunk, and being the reason reader is sad, spencer comforting reader, spencer driving her to his place
༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.9k
༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; hi! ty for requesting lovey<3 in my guidelines it says I won’t write abusive relationships, but as long as none of the characters are the abusers and it’s on the side, I think I can make an exception.
celebrate with me!
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𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Spencer hushes you, gently stroking your back. "Don't even think of him, okay?"
You just keep crying, your face buried in the sleeve of your sweatshirt, your sobs muffled. Spencer was acting like a saint, yet you couldn’t help but feel bad, as if you’d done something wrong. In actuality, you did nothing wrong; it was your partner that did, but he’s messed with your head so much to the point where you now struggle with differentiating right from wrong. The actual wrong thing to have done would have been to never contacted Spencer and to remain in the apartment with the man who had just verbally abused you.
“J-just focus on the road,” you say sniffling, dismissing him. Peeking over your arm, your gaze is drawn to the stars, watching as they twinkle in the night sky.
Spencer remains silent after that, not wanting to upset you even further, only wanting to get you back to his apartment—a safe place. You utilize this silent moment to reflect on the day’s events, whether you’d like to or not. Your thoughts wander to earlier that night, temporarily sending you back in time.
You relive recently made memories of your boyfriend, the mess he made of the flat, and the tears you wept as a result of his harmful impact on you. You try to fast forward and ignore what happened an hour ago, focusing instead on the event that brought you to your current location, sitting in the passenger seat of Spencer's car.
As soon as your boyfriend was done throwing his alcohol-fueled fit and you heard him slam the bedroom door shut, you simply left. You couldn’t take it longer, and you needed to leave before you could change your mind and tidy up his mess, or worse, crawl into bed with him and stay.
Your cellphone was still in the bedroom, and you didn’t want to risk enraging him further just to get it, so you decided you’d walk to the nearest pay phone and pray Spencer would answer your call.
You fished around in the pocket of your hoodie for a minute, pulling out some loose change you’d forgotten was in there but were so very thankful for. Inserting your coins, you dialed up the number of the only person in the world you knew you could entrust with the details your private life.
The phone rang a couple times, and after the third ring, you were met with Spencer’s groggy voice on the other line.
“This is Dr. Reid; may I ask who’s calling?” He grumbled, exhaustion evident in his voice. You heard a low grunt and the bed creak beneath him as he tried to sit up.
“It’s me, y/n,” you mumbled, your voice strained and disconsolate. He could hear your voice shake through the phone, which alarmed him, but he didn’t want to say anything until you finished speaking.
Your voice trembled as you weakly called his name, making sure he was still on the phone. “Spence..?”
“I’m here.” He finally came to full consciousness and sat up more in bed, his tone becoming more serious. “What’s wrong, y/n?”
“It’s my boyfriend; he.. it doesn’t matter. Could you please just come and get me?”
Any previous mention you’ve made of your current partner to Spencer was quite vague and awfully cryptic, and he could sense something was very wrong from how you tried to deflect from the topic of him.
Spencer had never left his bed sooner—even on rare mornings where he was late for work—and immediately agreed to pick you up whilst he fumbled with his slippers and tying his robe.
That same robe is still wrapped over his body, covering his grandpa-esque pajamas. You seem to be his top priority at all times, because he didn’t think twice before hopping in his car and driving straight to you. Just like you, he also looks a mess, with his hair mussed from sleep and heavy bags under his eyes.
Your eyes meet his, but it’s difficult to see him properly due to your blurred vision caused by all the non-stop crying. He begins to talk again.
“You don’t need to tell me what happened, okay? I want you to understand that. If you ever do want to talk, though, I’m right here. I’ll listen to you.”
“Thank you.. and I’m sorry for making you drive all this way just to pick up some battered woman.”
“You are not a battered woman, y/n.” Spencer cuts you off, his tone harsh, really trying to get you to believe it. “Nothing he does is your fault; you know that, right?” You’re hesitant to nod, but you do.
“Y/n,” he drawls, knowing you’re not entirely convinced it’s the truth.
“I know that, Spencer.” You respond, already wanting to be done with this conversation.
“I know you know that, but you seem to not be accepting it as fact.”
You sulk, but you can’t help but realize he’s correct; you don’t seem to be accepting it.
“Alright.”
“Alright?” He mimics.
“Yes, alright. I understand.”
“Ok, good, because I don’t want you to feel any guilt over his actions. I just want to help you.”
His words warm your heart and bring additional tears to your eyes. They roll down your face, staining your cheeks. His hand returns to the place it was earlier, rubbing circles on your back.
“I care for you so much, and it pains me to see you going through something like this.” You nod, wiping your tears off your face before they can wet your sweatshirt too.
“Thank you so much, Spencer.”
“It’s no problem; just try not to stress; we’ll be home soon..”
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diejager · 1 month
Note
it's always girl dad König or girl dad Simon but girl dad Makarov whose little princess gets away with everything
Cw: mention of assassination, protective behaviour, father!Makarov, tell me if I missed any. nnote: every dialogue in italic is spoken in Russian.
“- could provide you with-” 
“Papa, ” you poked your head through his office room’s door after giving it three light knocks.
You knew your dad was in his office, a worker of the house had told you where he was after you asked her, the old lady’s face wrinkling up with her gentle, saying that she saw a Bolivian man escorted to his office, but didn’t know if he left or not. Wanting to try your luck, you crossed the mansion to get to his office, built on the left side of the house, while your bedrooms and study rooms were on the other end of the mansion. He liked to separate his work life and his life with you, for better protection and keep your from knowing the dangers of life —or so he says. 
A man sat across him, the bald head of the Bolivian man Old Baba mentioned, wearing a suit sewed in fine looking silk, of rich and luxury that even your father never wore around so carelessly. It would catch people’s attention, right or wrong, he didn’t need any of that, he would rather wear the same black and white attire, clean and normal enough to be unnoticeable by the mass. The dichotomy between the fat man and your father was laughable, a scene you’d only see in your comedy novels or a movie. Your abrupt entrance had cut the man’s proposition in half, turning both their attention towards the door where you blinked owlishly, partly in guilt for barging into his meeting and in shock at the bald man’s heavy perspiration. 
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still talking,” you bowed your head, ready to excuse yourself for barging in, “I’ll come back later, papa.”
“It’s fine,” Makarov waved his hand, nodding his head to let you know he wasn’t mad, your father would never be mad at you, you listened so well and never fought him on anything. You were a gem in his eyes, something precious and untouchable to all but him, “I’ll have someone call you when I’m done.”
When you closed the door, Makarov’s attention turned back to his potential - well, past potential - ally, his eyes darkening after he caught the man whispering something horrid about your interruption. His business was yours as much as it was his, you might’ve been kept in the dark at most time, but you knew enough to know he was a dangerous man. He kept you sheltered, but not naive.
And after half-heartedly listening to what the man had to provide, Makarov dismissed him, giving him a cold apology about those needs being fulfilled by a prior contractor, someone who already provided him with the material he proposed. He didn’t need a rich pig that stupidly flaunted is money, it would attract to many eyes and he didn’t need that if he wanted to reach his goal and build a better world for you. 
He flicked his wrist, opening his phone and mindlessly dialling a number, pressing the screen to his ear as he watched the man amble down the stairs, struggling to make his way to the car he had a chauffeur waiting for him. The person on the other side picked his call within seconds, a cool and monotone voice ready to receive his order from Makarov, the unbothered tone at his fury, a personal and petty thing that clawed at his mind. 
“Make it known that I will have no one disrespect my daughter.”
“Yes, sir.”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
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ladykailitha · 3 months
Text
The Harrington Pattern Part 1
Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late uploading today, but I went to bed early last night and forgot to schedule this.
Oops!
But! Welcome to what I've been calling Steve is a History Nerd agenda. We see in season two on Steve's essay for colleges that he can link his grandfather's military service with his prowess on the basketball court.
It is also surprisingly well written. *shakes fist at the Duffers stop telling us he's stupid and then showing the opposite, please! Let him be smart, too!*
Summary: The Renaissance Fair is finally back in Hawkins after three year absence (Starcourt was built on the fair site and after the fire it was bulldozed back to it's original field). Everyone is excited, even Steve to everyone's amazement. But Steve is hiding other hidden depths as he offers to help the kids make their costumes for the Fair.
Lucas is struggling with being both a nerd and a jock and fears the judgment of his friends. Steve sets out to help him overcome those doubts to be himself.
Tagging the untaggable: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
***
Nobody expects Steve to be excited for the Renaissance fair. Dustin, Will and Lucas spend hours plotting bribes, schemes and out and out manipulations to get Steve to agree to take them. Even Robin expected him to side with her about the dust and the filth. Eddie expected him to be dismissive of the fantasy aspect of it.
Boy were they all wrong.
For it was Steve to bring up to the group after a rather successful D&D session.
In his hand was a bright pink flier and a wide grin on his face.
“Guys! The Ren Fair is back this year,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I’ll finally be able to show off that tunic I’ve been working on.”
All heads turned to Steve in shock.
There was a cacophony of questions.
“Since when did you know how to sew?”
“What do you mean back? I didn’t even know Hawkins had one to begin with!”
“You want to go to the Ren Fair?”
“Why would you want to spend all day in the heat and dirt?”
Steve looked around at all off his friends in shock.
“Guys, I love the Ren Fair,” he muttered. “Didn’t you guys know?”
All their jaws dropped.
And Eddie? Eddie felt an icicle to the heart at the sight of Steve’s hurt expression.
“You’ll pardon the peasants, my liege,” Eddie said, bowing grandly. “I’m afraid we have all be harboring under the delusion that Ren Fairs were beneath your notice.”
Steve blinked at him a moment. “But I love that stuff. It’s the history and sword fights and jousting. It’s the like medieval Olympics. It’s the romance and chivalry of knights fighting for a fair maiden’s hand. It’s getting to dress up in fancy clothes and rip into turkey legs like a savage. What’s not to like?”
Dustin frowned. “Who here knew Steve liked history?”
Robin and Nancy raised their hands. They looked around waiting for me people to join them. But they stayed down.
Steve ducked his head and scuffed the floor with the edge of his sneaker.
“The ex-girlfriend I’ll buy,” Dustin continued. “But Robin didn’t become friends with Steve until after he graduated so how did she know?”
Robin blinked at them owlishly. “You mean you guys don’t know?”
Everyone looked around each other and then shook their heads.
“Steve was in my AP history class my junior year,” she said as if this was know fact.
“You do know that AP stands for advance placement, right?” Mike asked.
Eddie smacked the back of his head. “She was in it, dude. Don’t be an ass.”
Steve looked up at him and smiled a little.
Good, Eddie thought. Nothing like a little Mike violence to cheer up Steve.
“He wrote an essay for early placement college exams,” Nancy said. “He didn’t get a chance to turn it in because of our second go round with the Upside Down, but it was really good. It needed a little neatening up with the actual writing, but the history was solid.”
Steve blushed. “Thanks.”
Dustin looked skeptical. “What’s your favorite part of history?”
Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I liked hearing about my grandpa’s time in the US army during WWII, but that was more because he made it interesting. But I really like the Industrial Revolution. Or rather the first Industrial Revolution. There have been four. The first one was from 1760-1840 and featured heavily in the textile movement.”
The room was silent.
“Why textiles, Stevie?” Eddie asked as the silence grew awkward.
Steve lit up like a child at Christmas morning and he began talking about the British textile movement.
“What the hell?” Dustin huffed, breaking into Steve monologue.
Steve ducked his head again and blushed. “Just because I’m not interested in science and fantasy doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” He straightened up. “And yeah, sometimes I get things wrong. But everyone does at some point. In fact I get a hell of a lot more flack for my intelligence than Eddie does and he repeated his senior year twice!” He took a deep breath and then ran his fingers through his hair.
“No offense,” he said waving to Eddie.
Eddie looked up at him with earnest eyes. “None taken. I concur.”
They all looked around at each other in shock. Like they hadn’t realized that they had done that.
After a few moments, Steve put his hands on his hips and pointed at all of them.
“So do you guys want to go or what?”
Eddie sat back with a smile as everyone roared their approval.
*
“No corsets,” was Robin’s only firm and fast rule for Steve when it came to dressing her up for the Ren Fair.
Steve looked her up and down. “Why on earth would I want you in a corset? Have you looked in the mirror?”
“Uh...” Robin said. “Is that a trick question? Of course I have. I don’t what that has to do with saying no to corsets though...”
Steve rolled his eyes. “In order to give you the curve you need to match the proper silhouette you would need to be cinched to hell. And as this is supposed to be fun.”
He grabbed her hand and started hauling her toward his car.
“Where are we going?”
“Thrifting!” he said with glee.
It took three different stores and a stop at the mall to get everything he needed.
“Give me three days,” he told her when he dropped her off at her house. “And I think you’ll like what I come up with.”
Robin eyed him warily. “If you say so.”
Steve laughed.
He crashed the next D&D session, showing up early to pick them up.
“What is everyone wearing to the Ren Fair?” he asked with a note pad on his lap and wagged the pen in his fingers.
“You want us to dress up?” Mike asked, eyes wide.
“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “I’ve made my costume and currently reworking some thirfted threads for Robin’s outfit.”
Eddie blinked. “You made your costume?”
Steve shrugged again. “Yeah. I like sewing.”
There was suddenly an uproar and he held up a hand. “I can’t make you a full outfit before the Fair, but I can make over already made clothes to make them more historical. And maybe for next year I’ll have the time to make something special for everyone.”
Dustin eyed him suspiciously. “Like what?”
“Like tailoring pants to a tighter fit,” Steve explained “adding a sash or belt, turning old coats into vests and cloaks, things like that.”
They still weren’t sure how that would work out.
“Now I talked to Joyce and Claudia,” he continued. “And they’re both willing to help out in making sure everyone has something nice to wear. That includes Max and El.”
“Are the fair maidens joining us?” Eddie asked.
Steve nodded. “Yeah. Joyce is doing El and Will, Claudia is doing Dustin and Mike, and I’m doing Lucas and Max. Eddie said he already had a costume, so I didn’t have to worry about him.”
Eddie grinned. “You better believe it, pretty boy.”
Steve ducked his head and blushed. “So we’re all going thrifting with a $5 limit for each of you. But I wanted to brainstorm some ideas of what you wanted to go as so we don’t waste time wandering around.”
Everyone started shouting at once and it took Steve a good ten minutes before he got everyone calmed down enough to get what they wanted. Dustin wanted to go as a hobbit, but Steve had to nix that one.
“You don’t want to go running around the grounds barefoot,” he explained with a wince. “It’s not safe.”
“I’m going to have to agree with Stevie on this one,” Eddie said. “You guys have never been but there is all sorts of stuff laying around. It’s not indoors and the pathways are dirt lined. Think the state fair. It’s more like that then going to comic book convention.”
Dustin grumbled but conceded the point. Steve got them to decide on... well not quite peasant gear, but more rough around the edges than what Steve would be wearing.
Well, all but Lucas. He didn’t want to wear what they were wearing but he refused to say what he did want to wear.
So Steve dropped him off at home last.
They pulled into his driveway and Steve turned to him. “Do you not want to dress up? Because I won’t make you.”
Lucas picked at the loose string on his sweater. “It’s not that. I just remember the last time we did a group costume and they all thought I should be Winston because I was black like he was.”
Steve frowned for a moment. “The Ghostbusters, right?”
Lucas nodded. “I knew if I brought it up they’d shoot me down again.”
“So what did you want to go as?” he asked.
Lucas huffed out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid pipe dream anyway. Especially since you have to make Max’s dress and Robin’s costume, too.”
He opened the door to get out, but Steve reached over and slammed it closed.
“One, Robin’s costume is almost done,” he said counting out on his fingers. “Two, do you really think your girlfriend is going to want to wear a dress? And three, let me be the judge on what’s too much for me, okay?”
Lucas huffed a laugh at his second point. “Yeah, that was dumb of me.”
“So what is it?”
Lucas looked down again and heaved out a sigh. “An elf.”
Steve’s mind was whirling with the possibilities. “What colors?”
“What?” Lucas asked, not sure he heard Steve right.
“What colors would you want it to be?”
He pulled out the notebook and scrambled for a pen. Lucas pulled a pencil out of his bag and handed it to him.
“Uh I was thinking of a light blue and with a silver trim?” he said hesitantly.
Steve sketched something out. “Like this?”
Lucas leaned over to look at the drawing. “A little shorter so I’m not tripping over it and maybe those puffy pants?”
Steve adjusted the drawing and Lucas nodded.
“Yeah, like that.”
“All right,” Steve said. “I know exactly what to do and how to do it. It won’t be perfect because I don’t have time to do it right so I’ll be doing a lot of cheating. But yeah, it’s doable.”
Lucas gave him a hug. “Thanks, man.”
*
Steve called the one person he knew he could help him.
“Eddie,” he said the second the other man picked up. “I need your nerd connections to do a huge favor for Lucas.”
“Wha’cha got, big boy?” Eddie asked with a grin.
“You wouldn’t happen to know any Trekkies would you?” Steve asked chewing on his bottom lip.
“That depends, Stevie,” Eddie replied, “what’s the need?”
“Pointed ears.”
Eddie hummed. “I’m assuming you’re thinking Trekkie because of Spock and that’s a good thought. But I’m guessing since we’re going to the Ren Fair our stalwart ranger is wanting to be an elf?”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “Do you know anyone who can help?”
“Better than that,” Eddie said. “I know where to get the ears in the right... shade?”
Steve perked up. “Oh? I’m guessing Jeff?”
“Right in one, darlin’,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “I’ll give him a call and then call you back.”
“Thanks, Eds,” Steve breathed. “You’re the best.”
“Thanks, doll.”
****
I am so excited for this, guys. You have no idea. I'm little history nerd myself and this really fun to play around with.
Just a heads up. We WILL be addressing Mike's casual racism from the Ghostbusters scene because I don't like that it's never been addressed.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual
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gloryy-vs · 1 year
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i LOOOVE your acc so much, so when i saw that you’re taking nsfw requests, i just knew you’ll be doing the requests’ justice 😮‍💨 that neteyam with a breeding kink one was wheeeew.
could i request a reader who grew up with neteyam her entire life, the both of them used to telling each other everything. but neteyam doesn’t know how to tell her about his first wet dream being about her, and now he just feels awkward when she’s near bcause it’s all he can think about. reader picks up on him distancing himself and follows him out one night, not knowing he was trying to find a quiet place to masturbate. reader keeps on prying him since she’s been annoyed at the fact that he’s been avoiding her and now he’s telling her to leave, so neteyam ends up bursting and just telling her the truth. idk, like change up the entire thing if you want, i honestly just want more neteyam content but in your writing 🫶 thank you!
||
u horny mfs.
yes. but what if we turned this into mutual masturbation
characters: 21 yr old neteyam x 20 year old na’vi!reader
rating: NSFW. masturbating, wet dreams, praising
a/n: just so we’re all on the same page. neteyam might be “ooc” because these are characters that aren’t showcased in a nsfw or horny way, so their kinks/sex life is up to interpretation. that’s why i have people send requests in. 🫶🏻
not proof read cus i’m lazy.
||
It was painful being near you, knowing what went through his mind everytime he saw you walk by, bend over or emerge from the crystal waters. Seeing you soaked from head to toe was insufferable for Neteyam. You could tell something was bother him, especially by how he didn’t hang around you as often as you two used to when you were much younger. Every time you’d come by to join the group you could feel the awkwardness radiating from the 8 foot man, and he’d shuffle away after making up some kind of excuse.
You two were almost never alone, her make sure of it, immediately walking in the opposite direction and cursing himself silently if he saw you try and get near him. His confidence and slight ego broke down whenever he was around you. You were quite frankly sick of it. During the clans hunting time, you eyed the male Na’vi , seeing him abandon his siblings to a farther area on the shore. While he walked off you excused yourself from your newly made Metkayina friends, following after your old friend.
Neteyam found himself alone for a bit, the memory of the wet dream he had of you flashing through his head. He leaned himself against the rock, palming at his hard on and picturing you, bent over in front of him teasingly, begging for his warmth. His fantasy was cut short with the sound of your voice coming closer. “Nete? You hear..?” He heard you call out, immediately yanking his hand away from himself and crossing his legs over while standing.
“Y-yeah. Here. What is it? What’s up?” He said quickly, trying to dismiss your presence. You noticed he couldn’t even look you in the eye. his face contorted in thought.
“What’s up with you? You never hang around me anymore..” You trailed off while your hand found a spot on his toned and muscular arm. He drew a sharp breath, raising his head while looking down at you. “Just gotta get some space. New environment I guess.” Neteyam tried to convince you, but you still felt off. You squeezed his arm reassuringly , causing him to lick his lower lip anxiously while avoiding your eyes again. He squinted them shut and struggled to look at you again. It was eating him alive.
“Are you sure? I mean, we’ve always done like, everything together. I’m here if you need me, whatever you need me for I can do it.” You said, trying to look at him muscled body and soft lips without making it obvious. The way he presented himself as nonchalant and almost rough had you entranced. Neteyam rolled his eyes impatiently, gripping your shoulders tightly. He lowered his head to level yours, staring into your eyes.
“I need you. It’s fucking eating at me looking at you right now as if I don’t dream of your body every night.” He shook you lightly, searching for the right words. “Everything about you just fucking draws me in, thinking about you bent over, underneath me, on top of me. Everything.” He said.
He let go of you, rubbing his face in his hands, visibly tensed up from how hard he still was. Seeing your eyes widen at each sentence he said, it drove him crazy how you didn’t even seem opposed, with your mouth hanging open slightly. You stood there, watching him fight a battle within himself. You’d be lying to him and yourself if you didn’t think of similar scenarios, except not as often as the male did. You leaned against the rock behind you, fingers hesitantly playing with the knots in your loincloth. Neteyam stared at you, his hands dropping from his face. Your eyes dropped from his to his waist, his hard on clearly visible behind the thin fabric. It only entice your more.
“I told you I’d help you, didn’t I? Let me help you, Nete.” You said, holding your chin up while letting your cloth drop to the sand by your feet. He looked so relieved, thankful you didn’t think of him as a pervert. Neteyam removed his own cloth, surprising you with his girth and length. A perfect mix of both. You eyed the clear liquid pooling at his tip, biting your lip at the sight. Taking your index and middle finger, you brought them to your blue lips, sucking them and covering them in your saliva before taking it down south. Rubbing your clit in soft circles, you lifted up your right foot to press against the rock behind you, showcasing all of yourself to him. Neteyam looked desperate, already pumping his cock slowly, matching the pace at which your fingers were moving.
Seeing his reaction to your body grew your confidence and so you slipped a single finger inside of your gummy walls, leg twitching in response. You couldn’t resist, and added in another digit to press against your g-spot as you fingered yourself, watching Neteyams pace quicken as well.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful.” He said softly, but his eyes appeared lustful, staring at how your fingers intricately pumped in and out of you. Neteyam gripped his cock, his hand easily pumping him from the amount of pre cum collected from before. He angled his head, eyes darting from his cock to your soaked cunt. He imagined stretching you out, hearing you small whimpers and gasps as he easily slipped inside of you. The thought was too much, and his hips bucked aggressively. Your hand started moving faster, bringing your left hand over to run fast circles against your hard clit. Your body was growing overstimulated, a peaking feeling growing in your stomach at each thrust.
“I wanna feel you Nete, I wanna feel you deep in me.” You said, head thrown back as you fought your bodies demands to stop before you bursted. His breaths became more vocal, the sound of his hand stroking his thick cock grew louder as well. “Cum for me baby, please. Let me see what that pussy can do. I cant wait to feel you wrap around this cock like the slut you are.” He grew hungrier for you, eyes staring intensely at how fast your fingers were moving inside your already swollen hole.
That’s what sent you over the edge, your fingers burying deep inside of you as you orgasmed all over your hand. You whined, grinding your clit against your hand to come down from the sudden climax. Releasing a string of moans, you saw Neteyam suck in air between his teeth, pumping himself as fast as he could before his own cum spurted out, some landing on the sand while the rest dripped down his hand from the tip. His hips bucked into his hand, all while he tried to catch his breath. His golden eyes raked over your body, eyes meeting yours. You seemed hungry and impatient, and he knew just from that. This was far from over.
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trulyhblue · 3 months
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Niamh Charles x Chelsea! Canadian! Reader
Warnings: fluff, cocky! Niamhy, suggestive.
Masterlist
__________________
You were quite new to the team, only joining the Blue’s side in July, but it felt like you had known Niamh for a lifetime.
You were Canadian, but you grew up in Manchester with your parents, playing in the City Academy before playing professionally for them until your move to London. Because of this, you knew Jessie and Ashleigh well. You grew up playing alongside Jessie at the National Camps, debuting for the Senior team in the same year. Winning the Olympics was a dream come true, especially with girls you have known since you were little.
Manchester City was a dream worth chasing. You were friends with Lauren Hemp, Ella Toone — before and during her move to United — and all the rest. When you found Chelsea interested in you, it was undeniably difficult to say no. While you had grown up in the North, the move down was something that ignited a certain thrill within you.
You met Niamh at your first training session. Jessie had been partnered with you for drills, and you were in the middle of introducing yourself to Guro when the brunette came barrelling in. Her flyaways were barren across her face, cheeks nipped red from the cold weather. Her hands stuffed in her pockets, she nearly tripped you to the ground at the speed at which she ran towards you. You had known her from previous matches against her, both for Canada and City, but something about being on the same team with her felt distinct. Sure, you had admired her beforehand, but it was different now.
“Jeez, Charles, give her some room, will you?” Guro scoffed, playfully pushing the girl back a bit. You watched as she nipped the inside of her cheek, looking at you so intently that you struggled to keep eye contact.
Niamh held out her hand, grabbing yours and shaking it. You could hear Jessie giggling from behind you. “My name’s Niamh.” She announced, continuing to shake your hand. “I’m Niamh.”
Her nervous state was apparent, and Guro was in a fit of laughter at the interaction she was watching.
“Hi, nice to meet you.” You replied, hoping your dismissal of her apprehension would cool the flames in both your cheeks. “I’m Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you.” She gulped, obviously baffled at what to say.
You couldn't help but smile, nodding. “Erm, yes, you too.”
“Fuck, let go of her hand, Charles, you're ‘gonna tear it off.” A voice called from behind. You turned to find the Australian Captain trampling over, slinging a welcoming arm over your shoulder. Her laid-back persona made it easier for introductions. Unlike Niamh, who was a worrying mess in front of you.
“Right, sorry.” The English woman muttered, tearing her hand away and shoving right back in her pocket. Her cheeks seared with an even deeper embarrassment, and you shook off the motion with a tight-lipped smile.
“You’re alright, really.” You smiled, hoping the reassurance consolidated the girl.
It must've, since Niamh gave you a wide smile back, shuffling by your side ever since.
All of the Chelsea girls were lovely. You had no problem fitting into the Grove there. After a few weeks of making scare appearances as a super sub, you became a regular starter for the Blues. Your presence on the field was noticeable, and fans reeled at how you brought more opportunities down the field and into the back of the net.
“Would you be able to give this to Niamh for me, please?” One fan said after a game, handing two matching friendship bracelets with your names on one of them each. Erin was beside you, signing off the posters, when she caught a glimpse of them. Without a second thought, she waved over Niamh, who wasted no time in sprinting towards you.
“Hello.” She spoke, trying hard to discreetly slip her arm around your waist. You leaned into her side, showing her the two bracelets.
“Look how cute.” You smiled, ignoring the way some fans had started recording. You slipped a hand into Niamh’s jacket pocket, holding out the present with your other hand.
Niamh picked up the one with your name on it, slipping it on her wrist and displaying it to the little girl who had made it. “Very cute. I wish we could wear them during games.”
Subconsciously, you put yours (Niamh’s) one on too. The two of you were pretty much hugging at this point. The wind had sent chills through you, your kit doing little to warm you up.
The two of you took a photo with the fan before calling it a day and trudging off back to the changing rooms. You shivered as the wind picked up, holding your arms over your chest tightly as you tried to fight the cold.
Without much thought, Niamh shrugged off her jacket, hauling it around your figure and zipping it up for you.
When you got back to your apartment, engulfing the comfort of your bed after a hard-fought game, you opened up your phone to find hundreds of people tagging your account. You managed to click on the video, smiling to yourself at the sight of you and Niamh huddled together, talking to the little girl with bracelets adorned on your wrists. You clicked on another image, this time a photo, of you blanketed in Niamh’s jumper, your arm wrapped around her waist with one of her’s around your shoulder. The photo was everywhere on social media, including the Chelsea Account. 
After a couple more months, you ended up extending your contract until the end of 2027 by Christmas. You loved it there. Your friendship with the team had grown all the more closer. You felt a sense of home and solidarity that you had never felt before.
Your relationship with the team was selfless. Jessie and you had never been closer. Sam and Millie had taken you under their wing, calling you the baby of the group, since you were the shortest between you, them, Guro, Niamh, Erin, and Jessie. Fans had taken a ripe liking to you all over social media. But not just you by yourself, but with a certain brunette in your wake.
You and Niamh had grown very close over the time you spent in London. She wasn't as shy as she made herself out to be when you first met. She was cunning, confident, funny, and easy to be around in any environment. All of your teammates teased the living daylights out of the two of you, especially Niamh, who didn't waste a second in making sure you were always okay.
She would check on you when you went quiet. She always ran to you for partner work during drills, after goals, and when the full-time whistle would blow. The two of you had a habit of huddling together in any setting, holding each other’s hands or waist, cuddling their side or touching you in some way.
Everything you did with each other was full of love and adoration. It was only you two that didn't see your friendship blossom into a relationship. You weren't daft, you knew the speculations surrounding what the two of you were. There was no denying the physical acclimation you had around each other. Hell, Sam sent at least two memes a day about how whenever you were seen together, you were always touching each other.
Over Christmas, Niamh asked you out. She was a nervous wreck, which reminded you all too well of when you first met her. It was after a game, in the changing rooms. She had been given a bouquet of flowers by a group of fans, who told her to ask you out with them. She was reluctant, not only because she didn't want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured by the media to say yes, but the mere fact of ruining the relationship you already had with each other made her hesitant enough.
Of course, you said yes. It was a no-brainer, and after a few more dates you were officially together. It wasn't any more public than before. Only your close friends knew, but the public was already quite content with the PDA you already showed each other before you were dating. The only thing they needed was confirmation, but Niamh and you were happy to keep in vague.
After you said yes, the two of you became inseparable, both on and off the pitch. Niamh ended up extending her contract as well, and the chemistry you built made for an unstoppable case on the field. By the time the season came back after the break, you had moved in together. The happiness both of you felt was indescribable.
Today, Chelsea was up against Manchester United, your old rival team. Ella Toone was one of your childhood friends and was who you were marking. Not only was ManU a competitive, difficult team, but it was a team you were familiar with. They were always pushing in the midfield and up against the forwards. Their chances during set pieces were worrying to any defensive back line. With the combination of Mary Earps and a sophisticated midfield variation, you knew that you were in for a ride.
When Sam did her ACL, people started to underestimate Chelsea’s shot at winning the league. Everyone was starting to wonder whether the Blues were even contestable for the semis. After a poor attempt last week against West Ham for the FA Cup, you were adamant about proving yourself to the people who were doubting your ability to win. You were a midfielder, and while you had masterclasses in the centre field, your stats didn't excel in goals. You had many assists, but never many goals.
You were tying your laces when you felt your girlfriend's arms curl around your waist. You were leaning against your cubby, back facing Niamh. You were slightly bent as your finished the knot in your shoe, feeling the women behind you grasp your hips with a slight squeeze.
“You ready to smash it today, baby?” She muttered, her lips shadowing your ear, sending shivers down your body. You held composure well enough, straightening up and letting her wrap her arms over your abdomen.
“Mh, bit nervous, but yeah.” You replied, relishing Niamh’s pattern of breath. “How ‘bout you?”
Niamh pulled your body to face in front of her, your back now flushed against the wall. You managed to make eye contact with her dilated pupils, feeling one of her hands make their to the back of your neck.
Before she spoke, your eyes filtered down to the fabric that wrapped around her arm, the word ‘Captain’ sprawled across the armband. Niamh watched the way your eyes widened, and how you bit your bottom lip at the sight. Niamh smirked in response, pressing her front into yours so that most of your body was hidden to the rest of the room.
“What's the matter, baby?” She gloated, rubbing a hand up your side. Your cheeks flushed when she refused to break eye contact, holding tranquillity at the sight of your girlfriend as captain. It was a sight you weren't used to, but it was something you couldn't get enough of.
“Nothing. I'm— we should go line up in the tunnel.” Your breath hitched. Niamh was staring down at you while groping your waist.
Neither of you said anything until you were out on the field. You could hear the crowd cheering in anticipation. You shook your opponents’ hands aimlessly, your mind sauntering on the previous sight of your girlfriend.
“Earth to Y/N, hello?” Jessie’s voice snapped you out of your trance. She must've watched you wander to your position in a haze, since she was smirking knowingly at your flushed cheeks. Erin came up behind the two of you, laughing when she caught a glimpse of your state.
“She looks like she's already played the ninety minutes.” The Scottish woman quipped, bringing her hands up to play with your cheeks. You pushed her off playfully, gushing at the ground. “Shut up, you two.”
“God, if this is your reaction to Niamh in an armband, I wonder what Niamh would do if she saw you.”
“Go away, you pricks.” You snapped, flanking them away with your hands, trying to cool your cheeks before the game.
After the team photo, you ran back to your position, jumping up and down as the whistle blew.
The game was inevitably tough, but something had ignited inside of you at the sight of your girlfriend. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you were running up and down the pitch with the one endeavour to make your girlfriend watch you.
Chelsea was controlling the game for the most part, and it didn't take long for Guro to find you inside the box.
The crowd erupted in cheers, your teammates sprinting over to where you stood starstruck. This was one of the scarce amount of goals you had scored that season.
As you were making your way back to the middle, you felt a familiar figure creep up behind you with her hands soothing the tension in your shoulders.
“Making me so proud today, aren't you, baby?” Niamh whispered, running back to her spot in defence before you could reply.
The first half ended as quickly as it started. United had sent a flyer into the back of the net just before the whistle blew. You avoided Niamh like the plague in the changing rooms, knowing you would cave to her touch as soon as she laid hands on you. In any other circumstance, it was you who would tease, but it always ended with Niamh taking over. The two of you were strict in keeping your private life and career separate, but no one seemed to mind your change of game when Niamh was Captain.
You were having an absolute masterclass of a game by the sixtieth minute, scoring your second goal on seven minutes in. Chelsea was now up two-one, and Man U were starting to bring on subs after a close set piece that almost led to a goal.
You made a break down the wing after Lauren sent a cross-over to the field. You sprinted down the line, trying to find a way into the middle. United were tight in keeping you out, and by the time you had made it down the line, attempting to pass it to one of your teammates, you felt a pair of boots collide with your own, sending you face-first fo the floor.
The ball was long forgotten by the ref, who blew the whistle immediately, medics were sent over. While your muscles started to strain at the energy of the game, you didn't feel instantaneous pain from the fall.
You were rolling onto your back, wincing as you got up, when you first heard your girlfriend’s voice boom over the hustle of the crowd.
“Are you alright there, Zelem?!” She scoffed. You watched a smug Katie Zelem trampling off from where you sat. She didn't look like she meant the tackle, but the heat of the game left her feeling less apologetic than usual.
“Oh, let it go, Charles.” Zelem clapped back, walking towards Ella and Millie, who were tense at the sight of Niamh’s uncommon anger. “She's fine.”
“I don't think you understand.” Niamh marched towards her, grabbing the girl’s jersey, and forcing Katie to face her. “You get the fuck off her and the rest of my players. Don't be salty cause we’re winning.”
Katie rolled her eyes at that. “Don't be salty cause your girlfriend can't handle a tackle.”
Erin and Jessie were surrounding Niamh moments later, dragging her away from the United mob and towards you.
The medics have already cleared you to keep playing, and you were already up and ready to go by the time your girlfriends grabbed your hand.
“Are you sure you're okay?” She asked, taking in your flustered appearance. What she didn't know was that you were overwhelmed at the way Niamh looked just then, not by the absolute mouthful of grass you just inhaled.
You could only muster a nod, squeezing your girlfriend’s hand once before slipping away from her touch. You were now hungry for not only Niamh but that third goal. You wanted to prove yourself to everyone that you could do it.
And so you did.
It was a Chelsea corner, and you made the run from outside the box near the open post, where no one had thought to mark. You jumped as high as you could, feeling the ball hit your head in the right direction. You fell to the ground before you knew where the ball was going, letting the movement and relief of the crowd pull you to your feet. You ran to the corner of the field, taking in the shouts and cheers of the crowd and letting your teammates engulf you from behind. The weight of everyone sent you down as more and more girls piled on top of you.
This was your first hat trick ever at Chelsea, and you were relishing the feeling of the euphoria for the rest of the game.
When the final whistle blew, you nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Everything you wanted to go right in the game went right. You were reeling at the win, looking across the field for a particular someone.
“Guess I know what to do to make you score some goals.” Niamh chuckled, grabbing your waist and lifting you into a spinning hug. You gripped onto her and giggled, letting her twirl you around.
“Thanks, Niamhy.” You smiled, gazing up at your girlfriend’s proud eyes. “You looked so good today, baby.”
“You think so?” She asked, though both of you knew she was just egging you on.
“Mhm. Looked so good.”
“You always look good, my stargirl.” The taller girl grinned, looking down at you slyly. Her lips met your ear, her voice sending chills down your spine. “But I guess I’ll need to reward you for doing so well. Show you how good you were for me.”
You didn't get to respond, feeling Jessie pull you away with the Player of the Match trophy shoved into your chest.
You knew you’d see her soon… you were looking forward to it.
niamhcharles
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niamhcharles — she scores more when I am Captain.
Tagged: Yourusername
Comments:
samanthakerr — yeah the girls 🙌🏼
*liked by yourusername, niamhcharles
User8 — they will never beat the dating allegations
^ user10 — at this point they are embracing it
guroreiten — she always score goals, Charles 🙄
^ niamhcharles — READ THE CAPTION
^ guroreiten — I DID
^ niamhcharles — i said she scores “more” goals
^ guroreiten — oh, okay.
^ user1 — LMAO
yourusername — always complimenting me 😍
^ erincuthburt — too much apparently… as if she didn't do it enough in the Change Rooms
^ niamhcharles — i did it more when we got home
^ erincuthburt — youre blocked.
User22 — they are so pookie together
^ user76 — omg yes
jflem_ — that armband ignited something within her
^ yourusername — EXCUSE ME?????
^ user2 — LMAO JESSIE
^ user3 — don't expose her like that 💀
^ yourusername — Ikr 😖
erincuthburt — Niamh needs to be in that armband more often 😂
^ yourusername — maybe I just had a good game?!?!
^ erincuthburt — we all have our superstitions
^ user6 — LMAO ERIN IM CRYING
User78 — If you look closely I’m jumping off the bridge
^ user90 — mood.
User67 — okay but when Niamh protected Y/N at the Man U game!? 😋😋😋 wishing I was Y/N right now.
laurenhemp — where were those hat tricks at City, Y/N???
^ yourusername — you stole them all
yourusername — can a girl just score a hat-trick because shes good? 😖😖😖
^ niamhcharles — you did it all by yourself 🫶🏼
^ yoursusername — thx niamhy 🥰
^ guroreiten — suck up
^ samanthakerr — suck up
^ milliebright — suck up
^ niamhcharles — a proud suck up x
^ jflem_ — 🤢
^ niamhcharles — ok bye.
user7 — THIS IS SO CUTE BYE
_________________________
517 notes · View notes
your-averagewriter · 1 year
Text
"Breathing's harder when a pretty girl's touching your chest."
Summary: When the Sully family come to seek refuge, (y/n) is tasked with teaching the children the essentials and becomes particularly close with Neteyam. She wants to help him with his breathing techniques because he's been struggling but seemingly her being close to him is quite distracting... who would've thought?
Word count: 1.5K
Warnings: making out, swearing, creatures
-
I slide off of my ilu and dive into the water, but not before seeing the crowds on the beach. Standing up on the sand I flip some of my hair back into place before walking over. I watch what’s happening and then I see my brothers teasing the newcomers so I walk over. Swatting away Rotxo’s hand from one of their tails I tell him off.
“Stop,” I say, then look up to the older one (whose tail Rotxo was messing with) who’s already looking at me with a smile. I smile back at him.
I was going to start talking to him but then my father arrived with a theatrical entrance. He does this whole speech and the leader of the six outsiders who I now know is called Jake Sully and was the leader of his clan begs to be able to stay. It’s difficult to watch as it’s clear that he only wants to protect his family but mother disagrees with them staying. The verdict eventually ends with them being able to stay.
“Our son, Aonung, and our daughter, (y/n), will show your children what to do.” Father declares and I can’t help but smile at the prospect of new friends and people to teach.
Aonung protests but he is overruled. They stand them staring at each other but I interrupt them.
“Come, I’ll show you all around our village,” I say with a smile leading them first to get some supplies then I lead them to their pod.
“This is where you will stay, I hope it’s okay,” I say and Jake reassures me that it’s fine,
“You’ve done a lot for us, this place is more than good enough.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you guys to settle in now and I’ll come to find you tomorrow with Aonung and we’ll get to work,” I say with a smile and wave before leaving. A small wave of ‘thank you’s is heard before I make my way to my pod.
The next day I wake up and head straight to their pod. Collecting the siblings, I leap off of the side of the pods, urging them to follow after me. The adults head to meet with my father.
The first to jump after me is the older brother, then the younger brother, the younger sister and then the older sister. I’m suddenly realising that I don’t know any of their names. I watch and smile at their face, awe-struck at the beautiful creatures and plants. They don’t seem to be able to swim long though so they have to swim up to the surface. I look at them confused before signing for them to swim with me and my brothers but they keep having to go up for air.
My brothers make fun of them but I dismiss them before checking they’re alright.
“Are you guys okay?” I ask looking at their gasping faces.
“You’re too fast! Wait for us!” The younger one says.
“What’s your name?” I ask softly.
“Tuk.” she answers.
“Well, Tuk, give me your hand,” I say but she’s a little apprehensive. “Come on, I don’t bite,” I say coaxing a giggle out of her. She passes me her hand and I look to the others before starting again. “Everyone okay to go again?” I ask and dive in again seeing their nodding faces. A little later on we resurface again.
“Wait where’s your sister?” Aonung them and I look around not seeing her.
We don’t find her so head back to the shallows. Aonung takes the lead in explaining the ilus and what to do.
“Okay,” I start then realise I don’t actually know his name. “Sorry, I haven’t asked your names,” I say looking down, embarrassed. 
“I’m Neteyam, that’s Lo'ak.” He says pointing to his brother. “Kiri.” He points to her. “And Tuk. But you know her name.” I repeat the names enjoying how Neteyam’s name sounds in my mouth.
“I’m (y/n).” He chuckles.
“I know.”
“Oh yeah,” I say tucking the hair behind my ear.
“Stop looking at each other all googly-eyed.” Aonung walks by and I stutter a bit both continuing the lesson slightly embarrassed.
“So, umm, oh yeah, okay. You’ve got to make the bond.” He moves his queue close to the ilus. “Gently,” I emphasise putting my hand on top of his to slow it down. 
He makes the bond but rides the ilu unsuccessfully but gets it the second time.
“Well done,” I say clapping excitedly as he rides the ilu back to me.
“Thanks,” He says shooting me a charming smile. 
Once everyone’s gotten the hang of riding the ilus we go riding and accidentally meet up with Kiri. We ride the ilus for a while so that everyone has time to practice and once we’re done we head back to the beach to try some breathing techniques to improve their breathing.
“Breathe in. And out.” I lead the exercise and I’m sat next to Neteyam. I can hear that he’s not doing the exercise right so I place my hand on his chest and lower stomach. “Breathe from down here,” I say feeling his breathing and heartbeat. I coach him on how to do the breathing properly but for some reason, his heartbeat increases rather than decrease. “Your heartbeat has increased. Try to calm down.” I say unaware of my brother chuckling in the background.
“Right, okay.” He says, presumably trying to calm down but I only notice his heartbeat increase so I suggest we try again later on.
“Okay, why don’t you guys go back to your pods and get a good night’s sleep then we can continue tomorrow,” I say.
The next few days we keep practising the breathing techniques and mastering riding the ilus, they all got on well except for Neteyam who just couldn’t get the breathing. I gave him a few more days to master it along with the others we’d already practised it for but he just couldn’t understand it. 
In these couple of weeks, we’d become friends, quite good friends very quickly so it wasn’t abnormal for us to hang out. Usually, I’d dismiss the siblings and everyone would do their own thing however most of the time we’d hang out. It was this time again, I dismissed his siblings and mine before dragging him to a more secluded part of the beach.
“Where are we going?” He asks as my grip on his arm slides down to hold onto his hand as I pull him with me.
“You’ll see.” I turn back and smile at him before continuing to take him with me. I hop onto a rock and pull him with me, and we both sit down.
“What are we doing here?” He asks slightly confused but charmed.
“Well, I want to help you with your breathing, so you can swim with us.” 
“I’m not that bad.”  He says, smugly.
“Okay, go on then,” I say, knowing that he can’t do it. He closes his eyes and starts trying to slow his breathing. I place my hand on his lower stomach feeling his breathing again and rest my head on his chest listening to his heartbeat.
His heartbeat accelerates and his breathing doesn’t get any slower like usual.
“See?” I say, it was an ‘I told you so’ moment but I didn’t want to rub it in. “Come on, Tuk can do it even Lo’ak!” I say.
“I can’t do it because you’re so close to me!” He says, snapping. “Touching my chest and stomach, I can’t focus.”
“Sorry,” I say quietly, shrinking back into myself. “I’ll just…I’ll go so you can practice without me distracting you,” I say sincerely, standing up.
“No! That’s not what I meant.” He says sighing then standing up quickly, walking after me. “I just, you’re really pretty and I really like you and you make me nervous when you put your hands on my chest and I like it but it’s distracting and I can’t focus when you’re around because you’re all I can think about.” He says rambling but I shut him off by gently pressing my lips to his. He stops talking and when I pull back I look at his dazed face.
“Can you focus now?” I ask holding onto his face.
“Fuck no.” He says before pushing his lips against mine and wrapping his arms around my waist. He lifts me up making me yelp in surprise, he spins us around and places me back down but doesn’t disconnect our lips as one of his hands rises to rest on my face. I move my hands up to thread them in his hair pulling a satisfying sound from his mouth. He slides his tongue into my mouth through my slightly parted lips and swirls his tongue around mine. The closeness of our bodies causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, a tingly sensation takes over my body dancing up and down my spine. Eventually, he pulls away gasping and I smirk at him.
“I see you can hold your breath longer when there’s an incentive.” 
“Y-yeah I guess so.” He says rubbing his head.
“I’ll have to bear that in mind then,” I say before pressing my lips to his again, smiling against his lips.
-
AN: I just watched Avatar: The Way of Water and I really enjoyed it (except for the fact it had some really sad moments that I was crying for) and I loved the characters.
Thanks for 200 followers!
Edit: This is rapidly increasing thanks to you guys!
I hope you enjoyed!
5K notes · View notes
loluzzz · 4 months
Text
Dad Bestfriend Hiromi Higuruma Headcannons
A/N : first time writing + it’s 12am. hopefully u enjoy and if not lmk what i can do better :p
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who always likes to check in on you to make sure you’re okay. He’s always there to listen whenever you need to talk. Sometimes you ramble for hours and when you try to apologize he responds with “It’s okay honey. That’s what I’m here for.”
Dads Bestfriend Hiromi who always seems recharged once he’s around you. In a way you were both similar since you were both stressed out all the time. Having each other to lean back on has help create such a strong relationship between you two.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who always teases you about your looks and how gorgeous you are.
- “Look at you pretty girl”
- “I bet all the boys at uni are just all over you”
- “You look stunning”
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who gets slightly jealous whenever you mention a boys name around him. He plays it cool but will begin to ask questions. What are they like? Do they work? Are they a good influence? You always dismissed her concerns as just being protective over his bestfriend’s little girl.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who’s more attentive to your needs than your actual father. Need a shoulder to cry on? He’s there. Struggling in a class? Hiromi is willing to tutor you for free. Need a ride? doesn’t matter how far, he’ll be there.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who enjoys spoiling you. Whether it’s for a special occasion such as your birthday or something as small as aceing exam, he’ll make sure to gift you something. Whether it was something small like your favorite flowers or even grand gesture such as expensive jewelry.
!!! NSFW AFTER THE CUT !!!
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who is awfully playful around you as a way to get you to touch him. He’ll sometimes snatch for your phone, book or drink away from you in an attempt for you to climb on his body to retrieve it back. The way your small hands grabbed his big arms or the way you’d occasionally sit on top of him in order to grab your stuff back turned him on.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who likes to have you grind on his lap whenever your parents weren’t around. Helping you both relieve some sexual tension between you guys. You desperately rub your panties against his bulge on his black slacks. He grins onto your hips making sure to keep you balanced on top of him.
“Keep going. You’re so needy today pretty girl…” He whispered softly into your ear.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi whose love language is physical touch. He would sometime sneak in a few touches on your body. Rubbing and holding your inner thigh as he drives you home after he offers to pick you up from uni for your dad. It was just an excuse to have some alone time with you. Some days he tries to go further and rubs your clothed pussy under your skirt. He makes sure to ask before her moved them to the side to finger you. All while he’s still driving you home, making sure you get home safely.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who would enjoy edging himself to your pictures. He made a secret account just to stalk your instagram. All those seemingly innocent pictures of you, after the gym stories, and simple selfies of your face drove him insane. Just thinking what your moans would sound like. He rubs his bulge through his boxers while looking at a full body picture of you.
“Mmmm~ Just one chance y/n please~ Mmph~ Just let me cum inside youuu~”
“So desperate h-huh pretty girl? Fuck- mmmm~”
“Bet you’re so tight and warm. Just squeezing my cock~”
“Such a perfect little body~ mmm~”
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who finally gets the chance to sleep with you makes sure not to mess up. He’s entirely focused on your pleasure before his. Making sure to flick his tongue all around your wet pussy. Eating you out just the way you like while his nose tickles your clit. You could tell he enjoyed this just as much as you did. You could cum from this alone. He was so gentle with you, making sure not to be too rough or mean to your body.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi whimpering mess once he finally inserts his veiny cock inside you making such lewd noises each thrust. While in missionary, he holds onto your waist but makes sure not to grab you too rough. The tip of his cock just kissing your cervix.
“Just as how I imagined~”
“Mmm~ You feel so good~ It feels good for you to right my pretty girl~?”
“Yes baby~ Just wrap yourself around my cock~”
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who makes sure to cum deep inside you, not letting a drop escape from your puffy cunt. He hugged you tight once you both finish.
Dad’s Bestfriend Hiromi who makes sure to hold onto you tightly as apart of aftercare.
“You did so well baby~”
“Such a pretty girl. You’re okay. Rest on me okay?”
“I’m here for you baby. Want me to rub your little body? You must be so sore.”
He always prioritizes your wellbeing over his. He continues to comfort you and hold you until you fall asleep. That’s when he finally falls asleep after you. Still holding you close to his chest.
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allur1ngs · 4 months
Text
✮ see no evil, hear no evil ✮
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TW: unedited, smut (dom & top!bada, sub & bottom!reader, teasing, strap usage–r!receiving, reader tries to ride bada’s strap for a bit before bada takes control, bada is very cocky in this one…idk mafia bada is just always so cocky to me during sex, bada’s strap is referred to as a cock/dick, exhibitionism, bada doesn’t receive again, sorry…, erm… dumbification, hyo hears you and bada fucking two times, she will never rest…), italicized words with quotes around them in this fic indicate a thought, and in a long block of text indicate a flash back, the picture in the middle purely for aesthetics/a visual aid and not meant to represent reader’s skin tone or body type!! this is entirely canon divergent and not a part of the mafia au timeline!!!!!!!!!!! if you want to read the canon version of this scenario, read this
SUMMARY: hyo will always be a dedicated bodyguard. she takes pride in the fact that she is able to stay by your side each day, and protect you. the only downside? she has to exercise immense amounts of self-restraint when she stands outside your bedroom or office door, and hears bada fucking you.
WC: 5.6k
A/N: an anon asked it so we did it!! a collab w my wife @bebeyue, make sure to read her continuation of this by clicking the three ellipsis at the end of this fic (this is a threat)!!!! this is the only time i’m cosigning on any form of hyo content–i make exceptions for aeri–so enjoy this one piece!! (ps. pls do not send any requests for hyo–i’m only writing for bada!!) but besides that, again, this is a “behind the scenes” of this drabble, but uses this fic as an opening, pls enjoy!!
DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!
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Kim Hyo is a diligent bodyguard, and no one can deny that fact. Although Bada may at times nitpick at things she does, she can’t dismiss Hyo’s commitment to her job as your bodyguard. Through thick and thin, she’s been there, watching over you. Early mornings and late nights, her presence is never far.
Take, for instance, the current situation unfolding between you, Bada, and Hyo.
"I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught." Bada’s voice comes from inside her office, and leaks into the hallway. Coincidently, you’d accidentally left the door open when you entered to hand your faincée her glasses. Now that accident left you in a rather compromising position.
Hyo stands outside Bada’s office, her back against the wall as your fiancée eats you out and toys with you. She’s not exactly sure what is specifically happening inside but from the sounds of moans, you’re enjoying what Bada is doing to you.
"I-I don't." You answer your fiancée’s prior statement, a hint of shame creeping into your voice.
"There you go again," Bada says, tapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth in displeasure. 
Hyo hears a shuffling sound and then another moan rings out from the office, this time the sound is significantly louder–she lets out a sharp breath and clutches her hands tightly together in front of her, struggling to keep up her professionalism. 
"Do you enjoy lying to me?" Bada continues.
Trying to distract herself, Hyo forces herself to think of something else. “What are we having for dinner tonight–” She begins a thought, but it’s interrupted by the sound of Bada’s stern voice speaking up again.
"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?"
“No.” You squeak, "Please--"
“The Boss is being very stern this time.” Hyo finally manages to collect herself enough to think a clear, coherent thought. “The last time this happened–” Her thought is interrupted by another that invades her mind. 
“Be honest, you like that type of stuff–” Tatter’s amused voice echoes in your bodyguard’s mind, her entire body going rigid.
“Fuck.” She mentally curses, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses. “It’s not like that–” Despite what fibs Hyo may try to convince herself of, the mind never lies. It is the truest and most honest representation of thought.
So it’s natural that Hyo thinks of the night prior to this most recent excursion between you and Bada, when you’d engaged in such activities.
The day had begun normally, much like today had, until certain events led your bodyguard to a cruel fate.
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3 days earlier
Standing on the steps of the Lee mansion, you beckon over your wife. “Come here,” you say, voice brimming with excitement.
Bada, who’d just spoken to Hyo, and asked her to bring around her Porsche 918 Spyder, turns to look up at you standing on the second step of the stairs toward the open driveway. “Coming.” She says, dismissing Hyo as she ascends the steps in your direction. When she reaches the step you’re standing on, positions herself behind you and starts to trail kisses up and down your neck. “Have I told you that you look beautiful? I love this dress…”
“You’ve only told me five times already.” You laugh while reaching into the pockets of your dress–a feature that you reverently appreciate–to pull out your phone. “But thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” She mumbles into your skin, dragging her nose up and down while continuing to press heated, wet kisses on the crook of your neck.
“Bada, I want to take a picture.” You huff, trying to focus on opening the camera app on your phone.
“Take one then, I’m not stopping you.” She replies, never slowing down her sweet assault on your neck. 
“I can’t when you’re kissing me.” You argue back lightheartedly.
“Just angle the phone so I’m not in frame–”
Not convinced, you gently shy away from Bada’s lips. “I’ll let you give me kisses after I’ve taken the picture. Just two seconds, alright?”
“Fine.” Your fiancée pouts as she wraps her right arm under your boobs, unintentionally making them pop.
You barely notice as you lean back into her chest and hold up your phone, closing your eyes and smiling for the picture. But Bada does. She sees the way the skin of your tits shine in the low light, and how the picture looks incredibly intimate, like it’s something not meant to be seen by foreign eyes. She leans in, completely entranced by the photo, and your reflection–
The moment slips away like a gentle whisper in the breeze as you slowly open your eyes and your smile widens at the picture. You don’t comment on the nature of the photo, only saying, “It’s so cute, I have to post it on Instagram!” Which you quickly do, all the while Bada remains silent, moving her head back into the crook of your neck.
The kisses she’d given you prior, although passionate, are nothing compared to the heat with which she charges the kisses she places on your skin now. She uses just the tip of her tongue and drags it across your neck, which makes you freeze, and a puff of air leave your lips.
“Maybe we should stay in.” She whispers between kisses.
“Bada, you made reservations.” You mumble, bringing your hand up to the side of her head, clutching onto strands of her long, black and white striped hair. At the same time, Hyo pulls up in the Porsche. She parks it right in front of you both, then turns to face you, but when she catches sight of the intimate moment you two are sharing, she instantly faces forward and clears her throat. She tries to make it seem like she’s not listening to what either of you are saying, but your close proximity makes it almost impossible. 
“Fuck the reservations,” Bada says into your skin, winding her other arm around your midsection–again making your tits pop out. “It’s been a while since we had sex.”
“Bada, Hyo is here with the car.” You whisper, using weak force to pull on Bada’s hair in an attempt to pull her off of your neck.
You succeed, but your fiancée is displeased. “So?”
“So,” you give Bada an astonished glance, “she can hear and see us–”
“She’s not even looking our way.” Bada points at Hyo, who’s scrolling through her photo albums, trying to busy herself. “She’s on her phone–” Your fiancée suddenly frowns, pressing you closer to her chest. “Hyo, why are you looking at your phone?”
Your bodyguard instantly sits up and snaps her head in Bada’s direction, looking like she’s about to break out in a cold sweat. “Sorry Boss, I was just…uh–”
“Oh stop picking on her.” You gently swat at your fiancée’s arm and break away from her hold, quickly grabbing her hand and practically dragging her forward. “Let’s just go and eat dinner like we’d planned–”
Although you’re not able to see, Bada sends Hyo a look that screams, “You ruined my plans,” as you force her into the car.
Hyo gulps, moving to face forward and placing her hands on the wheel of the car.
Yeah, she’s in for it.
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The rest of the night surprisingly goes without a hitch after that. After leaving the Lee mansion, Hyo had proceeded to drive you two to the La Yeon, an upscale restaurant that serves traditional Korean cuisine, and only caters forty guests at a time. Bada had reserved a private room for you both to dine, so naturally Hyos stood outside as watch, only hearing small noises from your lively chatter.
But the real hell began on the car ride back to the Lee mansion. 
The three of you had been sitting in a peaceful silence when you suddenly spoke up, curiosity striking you, "Just how much did you have to pay for the private room we ate in?"
Bada nonchalantly shrugs, "Not much."
"Somehow, I doubt that," you banter. 
Bada shifts her gaze from staring straight ahead to glance at you. "Well, it wasn't much for me."
"Ah, that makes more sense," you nod, releasing a small laugh. "But you know, you don't have to take me to fancy restaurants. I'd be happy to spend time with you, no matter where we do it."
Your fiancée shakes her head, "I don't take you out of obligation. I do so because I love you. I want you to experience establishments that are worthy of your presence."
Turning your attention to Bada, you gaze at her through the barely-lit car. Her eyes reflect deep sincerity, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Bada... I'm just a woman—"
"You're not just a woman," she interrupts, her eyes stern yet holding glints of love behind the firmness. "You are my woman. My fiancée. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn't treat you?"
Bada's passionate gaze makes you turn away, your hand ghosting over your mouth as you grow bashful. "You can't just say things like that," you whisper, your voice meek and soft.
"Why? Does hearing how much I love you make you nervous?" Bada laughs, amused by your reaction.
"I just..." you trail off, struggling to find words to express your feelings. "I love you." Those three words are the only way to convey the warmth coursing through your body.
Bada smiles softly, grabbing your hand which you’d positioned in your lap. "I love you more."
You intertwine your fingers with hers, observing the way she affectionately runs her thumb over the gem on your engagement ring. "But you know," you suddenly add, prompting your wife to look up from your joined hands to meet your gaze. "you could have mentioned we were going to a Michelin-star restaurant. I felt a bit underdressed..." Your eyes shift down to the silky white dress you're wearing. While undeniably elegant, its somewhat scandalous design features thin straps supporting a teardrop-shaped neckline that accentuates your boobs, which gracefully twists into the bodice and tapers into the gown's lower hem.
"Underdressed?" Bada says incredulously. "You look absolutely beautiful–"
"All the other women were wearing name brands and elegant dresses–" you protest, but are cut off.
"What does it matter what they were wearing?" Bada furrows her eyebrows, genuinely confused by your words. “You could walk into this restaurant in your pajamas, and you’d still outshine every single one of those women.”
You let out a sharp breath, smiling shyly. “There you go again. I think you enjoy making me flustered.”
“If you’ve just barely realized that, I clearly have not been doing my job.” Bada laughs, gently squeezing your hand, which still remains in her grasp. “By the way, I thought I had thoroughly expressed how much I love the way you look, earlier.”
A fire lights in your stomach as you glance at her. “Well…”
“I really am not doing my job, am I?” Bada uses her unoccupied hand to gently touch the side of your face, and leans in. “I’ll just have to show you how beautiful you look in this dress.”
That last sentence sealed Hyo’s fate. She continued to drive as you let out small giggles, and Bada whispered things in your ear. What exactly she said, Hyo doesn’t want to imagine.
Upon arrival at the Lee mansion, you and Bada are a mess of scandalous whispers, and chuckles as you both ascend up the steps, your bodyguard lagging behind to park the car. But it seems you two are far too excited to keep your hands off each other, because when Hyo walks toward the Lee mansion steps after returning the Porsche to the garage, you’re both nowhere to be found. Your bodyguard rushes up the steps, mumbling curse words under her breath as she opens the door and races up the mansion’s winding staircase, heading toward the only place you must be, your shared bedroom. 
When she makes it there, she instantly walks to the right side of the door, her back up against the wall. She lets out a small sigh of relief, glad that Bada was too busy to tell her off for lagging behind. 
But then she hears it, a small sound, simple and tiny, innocent. 
“Bada!” You squeal, while a creaking sound barely reaches Hyo’s ears. It sounds like you’d been thrown onto the bed.
Inside the bedroom, Bada moves to hover above you, planting either of her arms beside your head. She smirks down at you, her eyes sweeping over every sliver of your skin that’s available to her prying eyes. She leans in to rub her nose against yours cutely, watching how you crinkle yours and smile out of instinct. “You’re fucking adorable.” Bada breathes, then places a sweet kiss on your lips.
“I love you.” You whisper when she pulls away.
“I love you more.” She whispers back, moving her hand to grab at one of the straps of your dress. She thumbs at the silk until she slowly begins to move the strap down your shoulder, the movement so light a shiver runs up your spine as you watch her. When she fully slips down the strap of the dress, your bare tit is exposed to the cold air, which makes your nipple pebbling because of the sudden temperature difference. “No bra?” Bada presses her thumb against your nipple, starting to trace delicate, mithodical circles to the sensitive bud.
“The fabric is thicker than it looks–” You breathe, but the words die on your lips as your fiancée moves to drag the other strap of your dress down. Now both of your tits are exposed to Bada’s hungry eyes.
“I really love this dress.” She grabs either side of your boobs, pushing them together to oggle the way your flesh meets to make a tantilizing image. The soft skin of your tits glows in the light, and the way your nipples continue to pebble because of the cold has Bada captivated.
“I think you should take it off me.” You say coquettishly. 
Bada stares at you for a moment with an excused expression before she releases your tits and sits up. “Actually, I had different plans for you.” She steps away from the bed, making her way to the dresser beside it before opening the bottom drawer. You turn your head to the side to watch with a confused expression, but what she pulls out from the drawer makes you smile.
Bada takes out a bottle of lube and her long, black strap, glancing at you from the corner of her eyes to see you carefully studying her every move with excitement in your eyes. “Looking forward to it, are we?” She remarks.
“Should I not be?” You flip over onto your stomach, placing your head in the palm of your hand as Bada begins to take off her dress pants and shirt. Like always, she only has her boxers and her bra on while she puts on her strap.
“Do you need help?” You pipe up.
Bada looks up and smiles. “If you’re offering.”
You quickly get off the bed and kneel down in front of your fiancée, helping her manuver through the harness and secure it onto her pelvis. When you’ve finished, you don’t stand up, instead, you look at Bada as you lean forward to press a kiss on the head of her cock, running your tounge along the silicone.
Bada lets a small hiss at your actions, her hand coming down to gently rest on your head. “C’mon.” She pats your head, signalling you to get up.
You do so without a single protest falling from your lips, but you take the bottle of lube out of Bada’s hand, pop it open and slowly place a glob of the sticky substance into the palm of your hand. Before your finacée can say anything, you lean in and place a passionate, all-tongue kiss as you rub up and down in cock, twisting your wrist like you’re really trying to give her a hand job.
Bada groans into your lips, grabbing the sides of your face and deepening the kiss until you’re just swapping saliva messily, small strings of it clinging to each other’s lips, connecting you two together. “Sit on the bed.” She whispers inbetween your clash of mouths.
You pause, then take a step back from your fiancée, your lips parted as you let out staggering breaths. Backing up until you feel the edge of the bed gently collide with your legs you sit down like you were told to.
Bada is quick to follow after you, but to your surprise, she doesn’t push your back onto the bed; instead, she climbs on and reclines against the bedframe with her back cradled by pillows. Her position makes her cock stand tall on her pelvis, the large head slightly drooping downwards when she slaps her thighs. “Sit on it.” She tells you, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
You tilt your head to the side in confusion but crawl towards her anyway, taking off your panties before placing your thighs on either side of her hips and sitting down just shy of her cock. “I thought you said you were going to show me how beautiful I look in this dress.” You lightheartidly banter. Truthfully, you don’t care who does the work, all you want is to have Bada’s dick inside you, tearing you apart. But, then again, if she was going to tease you, you might as well do it back once or twice.
“What, you can’t fuck yourself on my cock?” She laughs, stretching her arm out to place it on your right thigh.
“I can.” You huff, feeling embarrassment start to burn in the pit of your stomach. 
“I don’t know.” Bada imitates a thinking face. “You’re kind of a pillow princess if I’m being honest.”
“Wha–” You stutter, your mouth dropping open. “I’ve eaten you out before.”
“And who was still in charge then?” Bada argues, her amusement growing every passing second.
“Well–”
“Listen to me.” Your fiancée suddenly cuts you off, leaning forward so that her face is only inches away from yours–her cock slaps against her stomach, the action going unnoticed by her, but not by you. “Fuck yourself on my dick, and if you do well, I’ll take over and finish you off.” She takes her left hand and places it on your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. She takes note of how your skin feels unnaturally warm. “Does that sound good, baby?”
Your eyes, which had gone wide out of pure shock stare back at her like lustrous gems. You slowly begin to nod, forcing yourself to close your mouth and swallow. Bada nods with you, then moves to rest against the headboard again, her back hitting the pillows. 
Although the tone she’d taken on was domineering, she still holds one hands out for you to take, so she can help you up onto her cock, while the other bunches up your long dress so it’s not in the way. You, of course, take her hand and with her added strength, lift yourself up until the tip of her cock just barely slaps against your pussy lips. You let out a shaky breath at the small surge of stimulation, but focus on inching your hips downward. Slowly, the tip of Bada’s strap fills up your pussy, every inch making you breathe harder and your hips stutter. The slight confidence you’d felt just a moment before instantly fades away as you close your eyes and stop moving.
“It’s only the tip, I should be able to take more,” you think, but truthfully even just the tip of Bada’s long and thick strap would be hard for anyone to take.
“Don’t do it all at once.” Bada’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, making you open your eyes and look at her. “It’s big. You’ll hurt yourself.” She says tenderly. “Just take it slow.”
You listen to your fiancée, carefully and meticulously sinking onto her cock, taking small breaks in between every inch until you’re finally able to sit in her lap, every inch of her monsterously big cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” You pant, leaning forward to catch your staggering breath and to give your pussy a time to adjust.
Bada watches you with a fond smile on her lips, she leans in to press a small kiss on your cheek–which just so happens to angle her cock further into you, making you gasp. “You took it all, I’m so proud of you.” She whispers sweetly, the soft side she only has for you peeking through her dominant demenour.
“I–” You say through heavy breaths. “Fuck.”
“It’s alright, just breathe.” Bada grabs hands grab at the sides of your face, trying to ground you. “In and out honey, in and out.”
You try to take in a deep breath but it catches in your throat. Still, with Bada’s guidance, you slowly begin to calm your breathing until it settles into small puffs.
“There.” She mumbles. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” You nod, shaking your head. “Just…it’s been a while–”
“I know it has, which is why you need to take it slow baby.” Bada’s eyes flash with a small glint of worry. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m not, just took a little longer to adjust.” You place your hand over Bada’s, now wearing a confident expression. “I can do it.”
Your fiancée gives you a hesitant look but slowly leans back, allowing you to take the reigns. You start off slow, moving up just an inch before sitting back down. Then the next time you go up you go a bit further, so on until you’re able to take out half of Bada’s strap before slamming back down on her lap.
You also start to pick up your pace, angling your hips forward so her cock drags against your walls deliciously. You let out small, breathy moans with each rise and fall of your hips, still trying to get more out of her strap. But it feels like you can’t. Every time you think you can take out more you feel your legs weaken and have to slam yourself down on her lap before you awkwardly fall.
All the while Bada watches you, carefully zeroing in on the base of her cock, which is only wet with a minimal amount of your slick. She catches every moment you struggle on top of her, trying so hard not laugh at how cute your frustrated face is. “Do you need help?” She asks after she notices you lose your rhythm and slam onto her lap with a small annoyed curse.
“No.” You say stubbornly. Trying to prove her wrong, you use all your strength to lift up from her cock and this time manage to get another inch out before you have to quickly go down again. This time the sensation is deeply pleasurable so you let out a louder moan, but in your attempt to savor the feeling you once again lose your rhythm.
“So, you still don’t want my help?” Bada tilts her head to the side, just barely able to stop herself from chuckling at the glare you give her. But this time, you don’t answer her, instead, you just pant on her lap, looking like a defiled angel in your silky white dress that’s clutched between Bada’s hand, the straps having fallen so far down your body that some of your stomach is revealed, the other covered by the tight bodice. “All you have to do is say yes, and I’ll keep my promise from before.”
Truthfully, beyond feeling bad for your current inability to pleasure yourself, Bada just really wants to fuck you. The dress you’re half wearing is still doing things to your fiancée, the contrast of the pure white against your skin, which is stained with sin and sweat makes her desire to slam her cock into you reach incalcuable heights.
Looking at your fiancée, you bite your bottom lip in thought. There are two ways you could go about this. You could keep trying to ride Bada and probably only give yourself half the pleasure she can, or you can say yes and let her fuck you like she said she would.
…The answer is obvious.
“Yes.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Without a single second to spare, Bada lets go of your dress and grabs ahold of your hips, flipping your positions with such quick speed that it leaves you dizzy and giggling. 
Bada runs her hands up and down your figure for a moment, leaning down to place a kiss on one of your tits before placing one on the other.
“Put one of the pillows between your head and the headboard.” She tells you, pointing at a lone pillow beside you.
Confusion flows through you but you do what she asks anyway, propping the pillow on it’s side so it cradles the top of your head.
Bada gives you a smile, then takes both of your hands into hers. She coils her long fingers between yours and stretches her arms out so that your arms are held above your head. “I’ll show you how good my cock can feel.” She whispers into your ear, the words just barely leaving her lips before she takes out the entirety of her strap out of you and slams it back in.
The sudden fast and strong movement makes the headboard slam against the wall, and your head slides up, wich would have painfully hit the metal if it weren’t for the pillow Bada told you to put behind your head.
Your fiancée’s deep and fast stroke makes you let out a moan, your mouth falling open.
“Yeah,” Bada mumbles proudly. “Bet that felt so good after all that fooling around you did before.”
Outside of your shared bedroom, Hyo stands frozen in her spot, the sound of the slamming accoumpanied by your loud moan making her gulp. She hadn’t been able to hear a thing before this, which is why the sudden rancourous noise startled her, almost making her jump.
“It’s fine,” She tells herself. “They’re just…having fun, that’s all.”
But again, another loud slam followed soon after by your pleasure-filled cry leaks out of the bedroom, the sound echoing cruelly in Hyo’s ear.
“Fuck…” She squeezes her eyes shut.
Inside the bedroom, you don’t have the capacity to worry about about the fact that anyone in a five foot radius would probably hear you moaning and screaming like a whore, because your fiancée is fucking you within an inch of your life.
Like you’re a ragdoll, Bada takes you by the hips and angels them so that one is up in the air and the other lays on the bed, her cock slamming in and out of you at an insane speed. She’s moving so fast that your slick–which had tripled from what you produced when you were fucking yourself–is squirting onto her boxers and creaming at the base of her cock. It looks like a ring of sweet whipped cream against her thick black strap.
“I need to get this room sound-proofed.” Bada manges to say between heavy breaths. “You’re screaming like a fucking pornstar, baby.”
You’re unable to say anything, the only thing falling from your lips is moan after moan, which is somehow not overshadowed by the thundering sound of the headboard banging against the wall.
“Aw, have I fucked all the thoughts out of you?” Bada drives her cock into you in a deep stroke, hitting that sweet spot in you that has you seeing stars.
“Fuck!” You close your eyes, mind turning to mush as your fiancée quickly takes her strap out, the ridging on the silicone catching against your hot and gummy walls, giving you profound pleasure.
Another rush of slick follows the exit of Bada’s dick, strings of it clinging from your pussy to the black strap, connecting you both. It would be poetic if what you were engaging in wasn’t pure, unadulterated sin. Immoral is the way that your lover slams every inch of her cock into you, sweat and your essance falling onto the sheets, leaving a stain as a testament to your depraved doings.
Bada reaches over to take the silk of your dress into her hands again, flipping all of it upward so that she can properly see her dick splitting you apart, rubbing your walls and hitting the front of your clit perfectly.
“Not a single thought in that pretty head of yours, is there?”
Proving her absolutely correct, you don’t respond.
“That’s okay baby, you don’t have to think. You just have to lay there, looking pretty in this dress while I slam my cock into you.” The way Bada cooes into the hot air of your bedroom makes your eyes almost roll back into your head. She knows just what to say, and when to say it. “Keep moaning like that, it’s fucking hot.” She adds, her own cunt pulsing beneath the fabric of her boxers. The way she’s pounding her strap in and out of you so forcefully makes the base of it rub against her cunt harshly, the slight pain and pleasure mixing together to make the coil in her stomach slightly tighten.
Like the obedient slut you are for your fiancée, you let out one loud, scream of, “I’m close!”
That only serves to reinvigorate Bada, who quickly takes your leg which is up in the air and sets it on her shoulder, allowing her to push her entire pelvis into you with a fast and intense stroke, which again hits your g-spot.
That’s what finally makes the tight coil in your stomach burst, a long stream of cum gushing from your pussy as Bada continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Of course, you can’t help yourself. Every loud curse and moan that falls from your lips settles into the air of the bedroom before floating through the crack between the door and the wall, the sound reverberating in the hallway of the Lee mansion.
Hyo, who had been counting to one thousand in her mind with her eyes screwed shut and her head down, realeases a long breath. She shakily breathes in and out, applauding herself for her immense self-restraint.
“It’s over.” She thinks, the voice of her internal dialouge fostering a relieved tone. “That was a long one. Sounded like she was getting strapped–”
Hyo surprises herself with her last thought. She suddenly straightens her back, shaking her head a bit.
“Stop–stop thinking about it.” She mentally scolds herself. Her cheeks are red, but under the dim lighting it’s impossible to see, and the wide, ashamed look in her eyes is hidden by her sunglasses. “That’s your boss and her future wife in there, it’s not–it’s not right.”
It isn’t.
But her wandering thoughts would be the least of Hyo’s worries, because while she counted to one thousand moments prior, a certain blonde Bebe girl had spotted her standing outside your and Bada’s shared bedroom, all the while your loud moans and slamming sounds filled the air.
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“If I’d have known she was there I would have told her to keep quiet about it.” Hyo grumbles. “Now all the girls think I’m into that type of stuff–”
“Ouch!” The sound of your hurt whine cuts Hyo’s thoughts off.
She freezes in her spot, but out of pure instinct, and briefly forgetting what was going on beyond the doorway to Bada’s office, she reaches for the holster of her gun, and swings around to look inside the office.
And what she sees changes everything…
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 11 months
Text
Sparring Matches
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Summary: The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team.
Warnings: Canon level violence secret relationship, slight suggestive language
Word Count: 2.7k
Masterlist
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The BAU were all sat in the bullpen trying to get work done when their Unit Chief, and Y/N’s secret boyfriend, walked out of his office, overseeing his team. “I have some bad news,” he announced, catching everyone’s attention.
“Another case?” Rossi guessed, coming out of his own office.
“No, the new Section Chief wants us to perform physical evaluations.” That earned groans from Spencer and Garcia. Meanwhile Derek and Emily were already placing bets about how each other would perform in each activity.
“But we haven’t had to do physical training in years because of field hours!” Reid protested.
Internally Aaron chucked at the doctor’s childlike protest, reminding him of Jack when he didn’t want to do something. “I’m sorry but he’s insistent and won’t be allowing waivers for any of you… except Rossi as well as Garcia because she’s never in the field.”
“Whoo!” she cheered, earning another groan from Spencer.
“And due to a recent incident… we will also be evaluated in hand to hand combat.” Everyone on the team turned to look at Y/N.
“He snuck up on me!” she defended for the millionth time. “I still beat him.”
“Still got a broken rib out of it,” Derek informed tauntingly.
“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed. “You throw yourself through doors even if they’re unlocked.”
“Oh yeah? We’ll see who fairs better in the ring.”
Before Y/N could get another jab in her boyfriend spoke. “Seeing as we are one of the most hands on units the Section Leader wants us to compete with each other so he can get an idea of our capabilities and because we are the most evenly matched. Thank you,” he dismissed, promptly walking back into his office so he didn’t have to witness anymore bickering. As much as Aaron loved the team, especially Y/N, he didn’t enjoy their bickering for prolonged periods of time.
Later that night at home, Aaron and Y/N were discussing the upcoming PT tests. “Why does he want us to fight each other?” she asked, plating their dinners.
“He said that based on reports we end up in physical combat a little too often,” he answered, setting the table. “He said that if we struggle too much then he’ll make it mandatory for us to have SWAT more often and no one will be allowed to move in on an unsub without SWAT presence.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Y/N cried, carrying over the food. “Stupid bureaucrats thinking their ideas are god’s gift to the FBI without even being in the field within the past five years.”
Aaron chucked, taking his seat across from her. “Well an evaluation isn’t too bad of an idea considering…” his voice trailed off as both recalled the weeks Y/N spent lying in bed waiting for her rib to mend itself enough so she could walk.
Y/N blushed, always getting intensely embarrassed whenever anyone brought that up. “He was twice my size and snuck up on me. And then I still managed to pin him with a broken rib,” she pointed out.
“Yes you did,” Aaron agreed, admiring her scowl.
“So do you know who will be fighting who?”
“Yes, it’s a mix of someone you’re fairly evenly matched with and someone who’s very different. You and Prentiss will spar, as will JJ and Reid, then I’ll be against Morgan. As for the opposites I believe it will be Prentiss and Reid, JJ and Morgan, and then you and I?”
“You and I will spar?”
“Yes, don’t worry I won’t blindside you,” he chuckled.
“Oh I’m not worried about that,” she smirked coyly. “I’m a bit younger than you, a bit more spry if you will.”
“Well I don’t know that I can call you younger considering you just used the word ‘spry.’ Besides it’s not a competition.”
“Sure,” she hummed sarcastically.
That only egged on the normally cool Unit Chief. He put his utensils down, forgetting his meal before hardening his expression. The same look he gave the team when he needed them to stop behaving like children, causing Y/N to squirm. “I guarantee you I’ll have you pinned by the end of it. I’ve never had difficulty pinning you before.” Y/N choked on the sip of wine she was drinking at that comment. Before she could say anything her boyfriend was at her side with a napkin. “Be careful, Y/N,” he said slyly, bringing the napkin under her chin. She stared at him in disbelief at his ostentatiousness as he backed away, trailing the napkin across her skin with a smirk.
~
After a week of intense sexual tension it was sparring day. Everyone was stretching in the FBI wrestling room except for Spencer who looked like he’d pass out. “Don’t worry Spence, I’ll go easy on you tomorrow,” Emily smirked.
He looked dissatisfied but took it with a sarcastic “Thanks.”
JJ and Spencer were the first to get in the circle but as soon as the whistle blew and JJ started advancing at him he dropped to the ground. “I yield,” he pled, raising his hands.
“C’mon pretty boy, you gotta do better than that,” Derek called. But Reid was completely unwilling to fight if there was no real danger so JJ was declared the winner.
Next up were Y/N and Emily. “Be careful, Y/N. I’m kind of infamous for hand to hand combat,” Emily bragged.
“I was a marine for four years,” Y/N shrugged arrogantly.
“Whoo girl fight,” Derek jeered from the sidelines.
“Shut up, Derek,” both women called, not moving their gazes from each other.
Also from the sidelines Aaron was resisting the urge to tell Prentiss to go easy on Y/N. Not only would it infuriate Y/N, it would clue the team into their relationship. Hiding a relationship from profilers was difficult but so far Aaron felt that they had managed. As the whistle was blown, Aaron watched in mild horror, keeping his expression hardened, as his girlfriend fought another very highly trained FBI agent.
Derek and Reid came to their boss’ side. “My money’s on Prentiss, she’s stronger,” Derek bet.
Aaron stayed silent, worried he’d betray some sensitive information while being so focused on the fight. Fortunately for him, Reid chimed in with his analysis. “While Emily was a part of Interpol, a very specialized group of agents, Y/N’s younger and more agile. Her training in the marines, while not having as much focus on hand to hand combat, will help her and I’d argue makes her stronger than Emily considering the amount of carbo loading they do.”
Before Morgan could disagree Aaron watched as Y/N pinned Prentiss by literally sitting on her back and pulling Emily’s arm behind her back up in the air. When the whistle blew, declaring Y/N the winner she simply stood up, helped her teammate stand, and went to the bench for her water bottle without a word, not wanting to humiliate her teammate anymore.
Next it was Aaron and Derek stepping onto the mat. Y/N watched them with unwavering eyes, hoping her expression wasn’t too worried. Aaron was tough, he got into more than his fair share of scraps with unsubs and he was still strong and fit. But Derek was well… Derek. He practically lived at the gym when we weren’t on missions and had the most takedowns on the team, preferring to throw himself at the unsub rather than shoot.
Y/N forced herself to look away from the mat, turning her attention to JJ who was approaching. “This should be interesting,” she commented, observing the flurry of fists.
Y/N hummed in agreement, busying herself with the objects in her bag. “Yeah but Derek’s got him. Hotch is tough but Derek’s favorite pastime is taking down unsubs.” Looking up Y/N couldn’t help but cringe as Derek landed a punch on Aaron’s face but he took it like a champ, barely even flinching before pushing Derek back.
The match was long and bitter but it ended with Morgan pinning his boss to the mat. Both were exhausted with labored breaths as the whistle blew. The second it did, Derek moved off of Aaron, sitting at his side trying to catch his breath. Emily went over to Morgan, leaving Y/N the opportunity to go over to her boyfriend without making it too obvious.
“C’mon,” she said as casually as possible, helping him off the mat. Helping him over to the bench she brought him his water bottle, as did Emily for Morgan.
“We’ll continue onto the next portion tomorrow,” the ref informed us before taking his leave.
At Aaron’s house, Y/N was trying to treat his cuts and bruises as best she could. “Are you sure you’re up to sparring tomorrow?” she asked, placing an ice pack against his bruised jaw.
“I’m fine, just some superficial cuts and bruises,” he dismissed.
“Still that was pretty brutal, I could hardly watch.”
Aaron took the cold compress she had been using on him earlier, pressing it to her visibly bruised collarbone. “Was hard to watch you too,” he murmured, feeling a little embarrassed about being so sentimental and protective.
Y/N smiled softly, trying her best to hide it so her boyfriend wouldn’t get too embarrassed. “Let’s get you to bed,” she suggested, helping him up. “This is the longest we’ve gone without a case in a while. You should enjoy it.”
“By sleeping?”
“Yes, sleep is one of my favorite things.”
~
By the next morning Aaron’s face was mostly healed and it was time for the other sparring matches. First up: JJ and Morgan.
While JJ was far more agile and quicker than Derek, all it took was him getting a grip on her and she was pinned.
Next up were Reid and Prentiss. Spencer didn’t immediately collapse but after she swept his leg he never got back up.
And finally it was the two secret lovers. “Don’t worry, L/N, I won’t blindside you,” Aaron smirked just like he did when he first told her they’d be fighting. This was also the first instance of teasing the team had ever seen from their stoic boss.
“You couldn’t move fast enough,” Y/N sneered in return.
With the blow of the whistle both advanced, trying to gain the upper hand. As Aaron tried to grab Y/N she dropped down, kicking him in the legs. It wasn’t enough to knock him down though, only sending him stumbling a few steps. As Y/N was scrambling up, Aaron had already regained his footing. Approaching her again he grabbed her wrist giving him the opportunity to punch her in the face but he hesitated, not wanting to hit a woman much less the woman he loved. His hesitation gave her enough time to twist her arm from his grip. Taking the opportunity once again, she kicked at his legs, sending him sprawling on the ground. She then straddled his abdomen, smirking in victory. But Aaron wasn’t done yet, easily flipped her so now she laid on the mat with him straddling her hips. He watched in amusement as her eyes widened in shock and she tried to struggle free but it was no use seeing as Aaron was twice her size.
The whistle blew again bringing both back to the present. Keenly aware of the position they were in in front of the entire team, Aaron immediately scrambled up onto his feet. Reaching a friendly, professional hand down, he helped Y/N up. “Good match,” he said awkwardly before scurrying off to the bench where his water bottle sat.
Y/N took a second to catch her breath, trying to figure out what would be the least awkward and obvious next move. Fortunately for her, JJ was already bringing her her water bottle. “Thanks,” she wheezed.
“Yeah, how’re you feeling?” JJ sympathized, also just having taken a bit of a beating.
“Aside from having the wind knocked out of me? Fine. I’ll just need a few minutes,” Y/N coughed out.
On the other side of the gym Derek had the biggest grin on his face, very much enjoying teasing his boss. “That was quite the match. Interesting method of pinning L/N.”
Hotch was trying to quickly think of a way to dismiss Morgan without drawing too much attention to him and Y/N. So he just gave him the stern Unit Chief look that instantly shut everyone up. “That’s not appropriate,” was all he said before exiting towards the locker rooms, eager to be back in the safe authority of his suits.
On his way out it took most of his willpower not to think too much about the way he had his girlfriend pinned.
~
The sound of Aaron’s ringtone jolted the two FBI agents up. Aaron grabbed the phone from his nightstand, keeping an arm wrapped around Y/N as she pulled the sheets tighter, cuddling into his chest. She let out a soft groan at being woken up as Aaron answered it. “Hello?” he answered in his groggy morning voice. After a few seconds of muffled information from Garcia he spoke again. “Okay call the rest of the team. I’ll be right there.”
“Another case?” Y/N asked, not even thinking.
“Yeah, sounds like a serial killer in SoHo,” Aaron informed as he hung up. Realizing what just happened he cursed. “Shit.”
“What?” Y/N asked, still gaining her bearings.
“I hadn’t hung up yet.”
“Shit,” Y/N cursed as well. “Okay it’s fine, if anyone says anything you fell asleep on the couch with Jack.”
“Yeah, okay,” Aaron agreed beginning to get dressed in the dark.
Y/N’s phone then went off. “Hello?” she answered, already knowing who would be on the other line.
“Good news, we’re going to New York City, bad news there’s a serial killer,” Penelope announced.
“Okay, I’ll-”
“Ow!” Aaron deep yell and a crash cut Y/N off.
“Was that Hotch?” Penelope gasped in shock.
“No!” Y/N answered too quickly. “Uh no,” she tried to answer more nonchalantly, “it was a guy but definitely not Hotch.” She cringed at her words.
“Ooh details,” Garcia begged.
“Another time,” she promised. “I have to get dressed. See you in 15.” And with that she hung up. She groaned, throwing herself back onto the pillows. “They’re definitely going to figure it out. I don’t have my car and I live on the other side of town we won’t make it.”
“We’ll walk in a few minutes separated. We still have plausible deniability,” Aaron tried to soothe Y/N. “It’ll be fine.”
“You’re surprisingly calm about this,” she observed, getting up to find her clothes.
“Would it be such a bad thing if they found out?” he asked shyly.
“No,” she answered, “not the team. I worry about the Section Chief and others.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it if I have to,” Aaron promised, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms before pressing a kiss to her temple.
Once they pulled into one of the far parking lots, the couple scoped out the other cars as best they could from their seats. “I think we’re good,” Y/N informed. “Follow me in like 3 minutes later?”
Aaron nodded as Y/N opened her door but the second she opened the door, Derek’s car pulled up with Garcia in the passenger seat. “I knew that was Hotch’s voice!” she yelled.
The couple groaned. “Not a word to anyone outside the team, got it?” Y/N immediately demanded.
“Of course, of course,” Derek promised.
“When did you know?” Aaron asked.
“We all had our suspicions but we knew during your sparring match. You were way too comfortable sitting on top of each other. And then my lovely Ms. Garcia’s phone calls confirmed you spent the night together,” Derek smirked.
Meanwhile Garcia was already group calling Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Rossi. “Hotch and L/N confirmed,” she squealed.
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dracoxsworld · 10 months
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Can you do a fic where ron was jelly bc the reader was being too friendly to draco and had to show her who she belonged to ?
Hello friend! Thank you so much for the suggestion! I hope this is good enough for you :) I’m doing some requests as I prep the next part of arranged, I’m very excited.
WARNINGS: dom!ron x sub!reader, kinda rough sex ngl, jealousy, angry ron, p in v, oral sex both sides receiving, fingering, reader has female anatomy.
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photo edited by me :)
You and Ron have been together for quite a while. Everyone knew you were together, no one even questioned it. Ron liked it that way.
You were his and nobody could do anything about it. He had always had a slight jelousy for his best friend, Harry Potter. He always got everything he had wanted. Ron thought Harry could get any girl he wanted with ease. So when Ron met you and got into a relationship with you, he is never going to let you go.
This was his opportunity to show the school, his family, the world, that he wasn't Harry Potter's lame and single best friend, he had the prettiest girl in school on his arm; and he was particularly protective.
Some of your peers liked to use you to annoy Ron; or try to make him feel insecure. This of course, included Draco Malfoy. You were a tad naive to realize it. You were simply thinking he was just trying to be your friend. It started out as you both being assigned as partners in potions. Draco was well aware of you and Ron being together; and used that to his advantage. He’d flirt with you, constantly talk to you, all while Ron would watch, just thinking.
“So Y/L/N, what’re you doing after class today?” Draco asked, side eyeing Ron, who was seated with Seamus. (Not a good mix, by the way.)
“Oh! I’m not sure, I need to study for Transfiguration…I’m struggling a bit.” You said while chewing on your bottom lip, reading the inked-in instructions for the current potion you both were assigned.
“I can help you with that, you know.” Draco suggested. This had caught your attention, you looked up from your potions book and smiled politely.
“Oh, no I’m okay, I believe Ron is assisting me,” you declined, looking over at your red headed boyfriend; who was watching you both the whole time. His arms were crossed, his eyes were darker than usual.
“Are you sure?” Draco voiced again, stepping closer to you, sliding the potions book away with one hand. You got nervous, just before you could respond, Professor Snape announced that class had dismissed, and you’d have to finish todays project tomorrow.
You swiftly grabbed your bag and ran out the door, leaving some of your belongings on your desk.
You ran to your dorm room, feeling a sense of panic. You were hoping Ron wasn’t think you were engaging with Draco’s behavior, that you weren’t flirting back.
You shook your head at the thought. Ron knows better, you told yourself. He would never think I’d do that.
Does he?
You had opened the door to your dorm quickly and slid in and slammed it, locking it. You set your bag in the floor and flung your body onto your unmade bed. “Stupid Y/N. It’s so obvious he was flirting with you.” You mumbled to yourself, your face squished into your duvet. You sat up and looked in your body-length mirror.
Your hair was a bit of a mess, probably from you flinging yourself onto your bed. You ran your hands through your hair to make it look a bit nicer, and gave yourself a small smile of reassurance.
Knock knock knock knock
You jumped, and turned towards your door. “Please don’t tell me your name is Draco Malfoy.” You groaned.
“You’re damn right it isn’t.” Your boyfriends voice boomed through your door. It startled you, it was his voice but it sounded different. “Ron?” You fled out.
“Yes, open the door.” Ron demanded. You did as you were told and unlocked the door and peeked through. You saw your beautiful boyfriend looking down at you, looking not too happy.
You looked down and noticed he had the belongings you had left at your desk in his arms. Some potion bottles, your book, and some quills. You then noticed his knuckles looked slightly stained with red, and bruised.
You looked back up at him with your lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, still peeking through the small crack in the door.
“Are you going to let me in?” Ron asked impatiently. You nodded and let him in, closing the door behind him. Ron set down your supplies on your desk neatly. Setting the potion bottles up on their designated shelves, putting your quills in ink you had, and setting your book in your built in shelf in your desk.
He turned towards you and slowly walked up to you. You were picking a hangnail, unable to get even a sound out. “Draco has taken quite a liking to you.” Ron seethed. You shook your head. “I disregarded him, Ron. You know I’d never—“
“I’m not worried about you, pretty girl.” He specified, his hand lifting your chin towards him. You licked your lips, looking at his. He smiled down at you. “I’m going to show him that you’re mine, he’s going to hear you. He’s going to see you all fucked up from me.”
Your underwear was wet, your eyes widened and you rubbed your thighs together at his words. “On the bed, pretty.” He prodded you, pushing you towards the bed. You listened, wanting him to do whatever he wanted to you. To be honest, you loved it when he got this way. There was something about it that immediately turned you on.
He took off he belt, keeping his eye contact with you. You sat up on the bed, your eyes scanning him up and down. He took off his uniform pants, sliding off his shoes with them. He crawled on top of you, his hands beginning to fiddle with your button up shirt. “These bloody buttons-“ He grumbled before crashing his lips into yours, it was aggressive but loving all at once. It was demanding, you stood no chance of taking over. You let him have control.
He got fed up with your shirt at one point he just ripped it off, buttons flew everywhere. “Ron!” You exclaimed, breaking the kiss.
“Shut it, you have hundreds of those blasted shirts.” He spat. He kissed you again, harsher, and unclasping your bra. He threw it across the room carelessly, not taking any attention off of you, he pushed you back toward the headboard of the bed, putting you in his lap so you were straddling him. His hands were everywhere; your hair, your waist, the hem of your skirt, etc.
Ron’s fingers crept past your skirt, and they lightly grazed your clothed heat. You moaned in his at the feeling immediately. “You drive me fucking crazy, do you understand?” Ron mumbled in the kiss. You nodded, hardly containing your sounds of pleasure from his fingers teasing your soaking wet core, your panties still acting as a barrier. “I want to hear your response.” He prodded. “Yes Ron, I understand,” you whimpered. Ron’s hips grinded upwards towards yours, as his finger continued to tease your core still clothed.
“Please–“ you begged him in the heated kiss. You wanted him now, you didn’t care how. Ron broke the kiss, still teasing you “Please what, princess?”
“I want your mouth,” You pleaded, your face pink from embarrassment. “What a perfect idea, pretty. Only if you moan my name loud enough will determine if I let my pretty girl cum, how does that sound?”
You moaned, his fingers were still lightly touching you. You needed more, this wasn’t enough. You tried to grind towards his fingers more, and he immediately took them away. You whined, it felt like torture. “Don’t be a brat.” He demanded. He slid himself out from under you, so you were laying in the pillows and on your back, and flipped your skirt up into your belly. He laid on his stomach and inches himself close to in-between your legs.
He teasingly licked slowly up the inside of your thighs, making you moan his name, your hands in his red hair pulling it like reins. He hummed as he got closer to your core, with your now saturated panties. You felt lightheaded, this wasn’t fair, you needed him desperately more than ever. Your core was aching for his mouth. “Fuck Ron, please please!” You cried desperately. He finally complied, hooking his fingers under your soaked panties and pulled them off.
“My goodness, excited are we?” Ron teased, licking his lips. Your pussy was dripping, begging for him to clean you up. He went in immediately afterwards, slowly licking your core up and down. Focusing on each inch. In circles, his tongue went. He planted a few kisses, and went back to licking up your juices. You threw your head back and screamed his name, forgetting you both didn’t set a Muffliato spell. Oh well, Draco’ll definitely hear you.
He hummed as he ate you out, making it even more pleasurable. “Ron, fuck!” You moaned loudly, felt like you shook your dorm walls. You saw him smile and he was licking every inch. His tongue abused your hole, going in and out as his thumb played with your clit. “God, Draco wishes he could lick your cunt like this, fuck Y/N.” Ron groans
You felt a knot forming in your stomach, your legs were shaking violently. “Ron, I’m close!” You moaned. He immediately backed away. You moaned in frustration.
“Ron please, I can’t take much more,” you begged. Your boyfriend shook his head at you and laughed. he took your jaw in his hand “You’re going to earn it, you’re going to learn to not even look in Malfoy’s direction. Understood?” Ron demanded. You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks. Your core was dripping, making a wet spot on your sheets.
“You’re going to pleasure me” Ron announces.
You got up on your knees, which were very weak. Ron’s hard cock was easily visible in his boxers, he slid them off letting it free. He got up from the bed and stood towards the edge. You got on your stomach with your legs in the air and crossed behind you, taking his length in your mouth immediately, licking off the pre-cum.
“Fuck baby, you already know what to do.” Ron groaned, collecting your hair and making a ponytail with his hand, wrapping it around his fist. This made you groan in his dick, rolling your eyes back, but still staying stable enough. You pumped him with your hand and he guided your head, bobbing it up and down on his dick. He again, had a majority of control. That bastard.
His dick was hitting violently against the back of your through causing the urge to gag. You free hand was balled up in a fist with your nails going into your skin making crescent-shaped indents, trying to distract yourself from the urge.
“Take it, look at me.” Ron demanded, your eyes fluttered open and looked at him. “Malfoy couldn’t fuck your mouth this could, could he? Huh? You’re stuffed with my cock.” You made noises at his response, rubbing your thighs together. You shut your eyes again trying to focus on not orgasming right there, even with the absence of his touch.
“Eyes on me, I said.” Ron’s voice boomed again. You whined and opened your eyes agin and looked at him. He threw his head back, his mouth agape, “Pretty girl, I’m close,” He groaned, eyebrows together. You bummed around his dick, head being pushed on it up and down violently by his hands gripping your hair. His hand pushing you on his dick started getting off beat and sloppy, you knew he was very close.
You went faster and faster, ignoring the tears and sweat rolling down your face. You felt his warm liquid roll down your throat as his dick twitched and his loud moans were all you heard.
He hands gently ran through your hair, he pulled out of your mouth and looked down at you. His smile was wicked, but you still saw the love behind it. “On your back, on you go.” You excitedly complied. Your body was aching for him, begging him to fuck the shit out of you. you flipped your skirt up to expose your cunt, soaking wet from his sexual torture. Ron hovered over you, his arms on both sides of you, he leaned down and left sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbones, leaving bite marks. You moaned his name and begged for him to pleasure you.
“You’ve been patient enough, pretty girl,” Ron said sweetly, he likes himself up to you, and teased your slit with his cock. You whines and dug your nails into his back.
He entered into you, giving you time to adjust. You felt so full, so good. “Ron, fuck.” You whined.
“Pretty girl, you feel so perfect; so warm and tight, fuck.” Ron groaned into your neck. His pace was slow, it hit the right spot, he knew you so well. The room was full of your moans and the smell of sex.
Ron had sped up, the sound of your skin slapping together joined the sounds of pleasure you both were making together. His dick was hitting your g-spot like a arrow on the middle of a target. Over and over again. Meanwhile, he continued to leave hickeys on your chest, collar bones and shoulders.
He then sat up and tossed your legs over his shoulders, exposing you more. He railed into you, more aggressively now. Your eyes were full of tears from pure pleasure. The knot in your stomach was forming again.
“Ron, please– let me-“ You moaned, looking him in the eye.
“I am too, cum in my cock baby, come on,” Ron grunted.
After a few more thrusts, you both hit your point, both of you groaning simultaneously, Ron then pulling out and collapsing next to you. You both were covered in sweat, and each others fluids. Ron’s hands ran over his chest that was rapidly going up and down.
“Y/N?” Ron perked up, holding himself up by one arm, looking down at you.
“Yes, Ron?”
“I love you, you know that, right? I just can’t stand Malfoy talking to you like that..”
“Of course, Ron. I love you too. He’s not really interested in me, he just does it to piss you off, I think.” You replied, your hand on his cheek. He gave you a doubtful look.
“However, I should talk to Malfoy more often, that was quite fun.” You chuckled. Ron rolled his eyes at you, and gave you a kiss on the nose.
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