#and its all fine but all of a sudden i start getting v overwhelmed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plzfeedmebread · 1 year

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🍞 i have come to request for jake + breeding 😔🙏make it spicy and soft please

word count: 2900

Pairing: Jake Sully x Female! Navi! Reader Tags/Warnings: smut, nsfw, p in v, swearing, breeding, smooching, a little fluff, R18 - MINORS DNI Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long! I hope it is to your liking :)

SCORCHING

It starts with an itch. A tickle, perhaps, at the back of his throat. Insignificant enough to easily ignore. His hands start sweating more than usual, a general warmth follows him, encasing him. He tells himself it’s fine, Pandora must be going through its version of summer. He becomes a little more worried when his senses become far sharper than before; but strangely, he notices, it is only attuned to you.

The twitch of your tail, a tsk on your tongue, the pop of a joint; every sound you make rings in his ears. Stronger still is the smell. Your scent invades him, controls him. Everything your hands merely glide over, becomes drenched in your scent. He can’t remember ever feeling like this; he feels almost drunk off of it. And God forbid should you be even the slightest bit aroused. One whiff and he’s as good as gone.

That is when he knows something is not right with his person. This level of unbridled arousal is astonishing. If he stares at you for too long, he’s as hard as if you had spent hours teasing him with no release. If he thinks about you for too long, he’s hard. If he smells your intoxicating scent to much, he’s hard. It drives him insane. He can’t control himself, and it frustrates him. He’s sure he’s never been this horny; not even as a teenager. One misstep and he has to excuse himself; desperately pumping his aching cock to your visage.

He’s fucked you every night for the past two weeks. Not that you complain, bless you. Never do you rebuff his advances, always eager to accept his love. It is only after he’s worn himself out in your wet heat that he finally feels some level of reprieve. The relief is so overwhelming, he’s asleep in minutes.

It all comes crashing down on him one morning though. He wakes up late; you left early to join a morning hunt. He would have joined you of course, but he felt far too groggy the night before.

His entire body aches. Every muscle in his body protests even the slowest of movements. He’s drenched in sweat. Jake rolls over to try and be more comfortable, but is immediately assaulted by your lingering scent. His hand is on his cock without a second thought, rough calloused hands bringing him to full attention with little to no effort.

He cums with a desperate moan all over his hand.

But his hand doesn’t stop pumping. He squeezes himself tighter, anything to relieve the burning ache nestled deep within his core. He cums again within minutes. But it does little to alleviate his need. He doesn’t understand; how can he still be hard after that? Fear ripples through him at this sudden unknown state of being.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He hopes you come home soon.

---

The sun is well passed its zenith by the time your party returns to village. It was a successful hunt, and your body aches deliciously with the strenuous activity. You return your ever faithful ikran to her beloved mate’s side. Bob’s excited trills puts a smile on your face, and you watch their cute little greeting with a soft giggle.

You stop at a nearby river to wash away the layer of sweat covering your skin. Not a proper bathing, but will suffice for now. The cool water soothes you, and you dive into its shallow depths for good measure. You do not linger long; wanting to get back to Jake as soon as possible. You hope that whatever illness that plagued him the night prior has since subsided. If not, you’ll be sure to have the Tsahik give him a once over.

You make the climb up to your tree nest. You notice the coverings have not yet been pulled open; the dwelling remains enclosed. Swift and quietly, you pry open one side and make your way in, closing behind you.

---

You're hit by the sudden smell of sex and it catches you off guard, there is a falter in your step. You give everything a quick once over. Your eyes lock onto your mate, still lying right where you left him this morning. He has his back to you, and it looks as though he’s curled in on himself.

Your ears flick forward as you pick up on his laboured breath. His tail flicks annoyedly. In the dim light seeping through the top, you can make out a faint sheen to his back. The stars freckling his body seem brighter than you remember.

Is this…?

“Ma Jake…?” You call for him, his ear flicks to your direction immediately. You move and kneel behind him and place a gentle hand to his shoulder. You pull your hand back almost immediately; he’s scorching hot to the touch.

“Hnnn….” He tries to say your name, but all he manages a pitiful whimper. Tentatively, your hands are on him again and you help him lay on his back.

When you see the state of him, you can’t help the blush that adorns your cheeks and bleeding down your neck.

He’s hard, cock standing at the ready, leaking precum all down the shaft. His abs glisten with the tell-tale sign of spent seed, and you notice a small puddle of release from where he had been laying.

His eyes find yours and without words, he is begging; pleading you for help.

You don’t hesitate, immediately your hand closes around his throbbing member, gripping him as tightly as possible.

He groans deep in the back of his throat, eyes rolling back. You waste no time pumping him with slow, hard thrusts. His hips snap up to meet your downward arch. One hand finds purchase on your thigh, gripping your soft flesh. His other hand goes to his mouth; he bites down hard as if to try and silence the sounds he’s involuntarily making.

You lean down and gently circle the swollen tip of his dick with your tongue. The taste of his prior releases makes your mouth water. Greedily, you take him into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat.

“Fuck! [Y/N]!”

He cums the moment his dick caresses the soft warmth of your throat; shooting his seed straight down the back. You swallow with practiced ease, letting your throat muscles massage him through his orgasm.

Slowly you lift your head, licking him as he leaves your mouth, cleaning his dick of his cum and your spit.

You’re not surprised when he’s still half hard. But you see clarity has returned to his eyes, somewhat. You touch his cheek with your palm; still hot to the touch. He leans into you, eyes closed, and takes a deep calming breath.

“[Y/N]…What the fuck is wrong with me…? I’ve been horny the whole God damn morning—and it hasn’t fucking stopped…”

He squeezes your hand, seeking reassurance. You wipe the hairs stuck to his brow.

“Oh, muntxatan…I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure if your body was capable of such a thing…”

“What…thing?”

“You’re going through your first rut, ma Jake.”

He stares up at you, brow pinched in confusion.

“Every few months, Na’vi men will go through a period known as a rut. You will become insatiable; your entire world will revolve around mating. The need to breed your mate will become your sole focus. Na’vi women will go through something similar, called a heat. It is when we are, most fertile. Sometimes mated pairs might even have their cycles align with one another. In some cases, when one starts, it triggers the other…”

“Well that’s just fucking perfect…How do I get it to stop…? How long is this gonna last…?”

You suck your teeth, pressing your tongue to your cheek.

“A few days. Maybe even a week.”

Jake groans in frustration.

“Don’t worry ma Jake. I’m here now, I’ll help you through it, yawne.” You lean down and press a soft kiss to the side of his mouth.

He grabs the back of your head and presses you back down to him, kissing you with burning passion. You taste like Heaven on his lips.

You move to straddle him, hands braced upon his chest. As he continues to explore your mouth with his tongue, you slowly start grinding your clothed heat against his hardening member.

You swallow his moan into your mouth, sucking on his tongue.

He's hard almost immediately. The heat radiating off his cock warms your pussy so deliciously, your loin cloth does little to hide your growing arousal. Wetness seeps through, coating him your sweet slickness.

You sit up, wanting to remove the cloth so as to feel him skin to skin.

His hands move to your chest, gently massaging your breasts in each hand. You exhale with a soft hum, the pleasure radiating straight to your loins. His thumbs make soft patterns around your nipples till they perk.

“Jake…” You voice is quiet and breathless as he continues to play with you. His dick twitches when you press your bare cunt to him.

“Please [Y/N]…I need to be inside you so bad it hurts…Please baby,” He begs and moves his hands to your hips, gripping you tightly.

“FUCK--!” His grip on your hips becomes bruising as he cusses loudly. The overwhelming heat and tightness of your pussy causes him to cum immediately.

You smile down at him and nod in understanding. You take him in your hand and lift yourself up, lining him with your center.

Slowly you lower yourself, letting him enter you at an excruciating pace. Once you find the right angle, you let yourself drop, your groin meeting his with a loud slap. You whine at the sudden stretch, a bolt of pleasure pierces through you.

You dare not move, letting him ride his orgasm to focus.

He takes a few calming breathes. You can feel him inside you, hard as ever.

Your eyes meet, and something shifts in his gaze.

Suddenly you’re on back. His hands grab both of your legs behinds the knees as he bends you in half, pushing into you as far as your body will let him.

He starts pounding into you with such force it knocks the air from your lungs. His thrusts are unrelenting, each snap of his hips causing his pelvis to crush against your aching clit, balls slapping against the curve of your ass.

“Ja—Jake~!” You moan his name as you feel your own orgasm approaching without mercy; no doubt the first of many for the night.

“That’s it baby, take my cock like the good little mate that you are.” Tears brim your eyes as the pressure builds and the strain of him folding you in half.

He presses your legs further down with his arms, both his hands cupping your face. His thumbs gently caress the streaks of a few stray tears.

A few more hard thrusts and your cumming around his cock, pleasure exploding from your pussy and spreading down your legs and up your spine. You moan loudly and without restraint as you ride out your orgasm, his dick caressing the spongy centre of your core.

“Fuck yes that’s it [Y/N], cum around my cock. I’m gonna fill you so fucking much baby--!”

One final hard thrust and all movement stops as he spills into you; hot fluid painting your insides.

He barely gives you any time to recover.

Before you know it, he has you flipped into your front. He pulls you both to your knees. He grabs your left arm, bending it behind you securely in his grip. He leans back, forcing you with him, resting your back to his chest. His legs force yours further apart as he pierces you with his dick once more.

Hardened and burning, he fucks you faster than before.

He uses his right hand to spread your folds, exposing your still sensitive clit. His middle finger, coated in your mixed fluids, easily glides over the bud in hurried strokes.

The pleasure is too much too soon, and you can’t help the pathetic whimper that leaves your lips. Tears fall from your eyes from the overwhelming sensation.

“Jake please—it’s too soon! I can’t!” You beg him, and he obliges by moving his hand. He doesn’t stop thrusting.

His hand moves then to wrap around your throat, forcing your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“Yes you can baby, I know you can. Come on give me one more, my good girl,” he whispers in your ear, licking the sensitive appendage.

You whimper, but your mind is becoming a mess. The desire to cum again slowly overriding all else. You move your free hand to play with your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure with each pinch.

As he stares down the planes of your body, your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts, he thinks this is one of his favourite angles in which to bask in your beauty.

The promise of orgasm builds up once more, and you cunt clenches him in anticipation.

“Fuck yes [Y/N], take all my fucking cum baby! Gonna breed you till you can’t even think straight!”

Your walls clench him again at his words and you mewl. He presses a kiss to your check and lets out a breathless chuckle.

“Is that what you want [Y/N]? Wanna be fucked full till I knock you up?”

His hand is on your clit again, and this time you make no move to stop him.

“Yesyesyes! Jake please! Don’t stop! Fuck me more! I want to have your children so bad!”

“Yeah?”

He pushes you down onto your stomach, securing both hands behind your back in one of his own. His other hand holds your head firmly to the floor. He braces himself, using his left leg for leverage on your side.

“Yeeeeees! Jake! Please! Cum in me again! Please!”

Still he pounds into you with reckless abandon. His thrust stretching your aching pussy, the sound of your skin slapping together drowned out by your chocking sobs and moans.

He lets go of your arms to grab at your hips, bringing your cunt back in time with his thrusts.

With a loud throaty growl he’s cumming in you. His hands hold you still, and he rides his pleasure with a few more slow hard thrusts. He’s filled you so much already that it starts to leak from you, dripping down your inner thighs.

His hand moves under you and to your clit, rubbing his spilt seed in fast circles till you’re cumming once again.

“Oh yes, by the Great Mother, YES! JAKE!” Your body shakes as pleasure wracks you. Thankfully he removes his hand when your body tries to jerk away.

He slowly removes himself from you, watching with a satisfied grin as his load spills forth from your abused hole.

“Fuck, [Y/N]…” The sight alone gets him hard again.

He carefully turns you around, laying you on your back. Gently he parts your legs, entering you once more. The slickness of your mixed fluids welcomes him in as he meets no resistance.

He moves one hand behind your back, cradling your head in his hand as he lifts you up slightly.

“The bond.” His voice is low as he asks you to join the two of you together. You grab both your queues and make tsaheylu. Jake curses as your senses invade his. Your hands wrap around his neck, and you pull him down to smash his lips to yours.

You kiss is fervent, nipping at his lips, tongue gliding over his own.

He starts moving again, but this time his pace is slower, his movements more meaningful.

He breaks the kiss to gaze into your eyes. His expression causes a flutter in your heart.

“Nga yawne lu oer,” he whispers, almost too quiet. Your tired eyes beam up at him, and you smile like the luckiest woman on Pandora.

“I love you too, ma Jake.” He returns your smile, quickening his pace, chasing that last orgasm.

“I meant what I said Jake—I want to start a family with you. Please.” Your hands gently play with his hair, massaging the base of his queue. He moans soft at your ministrations.

“Fuck [Y/N], you want me to breed you that badly huh?”

You merely nod, a loving smile adorns your face.

“Alright baby, I got you. I’m gonna full you up till this rut ends. Gonna breed you every. Single. Night.” He times hard thrusts with his last words, cumming in you at the end.

Your walls clench him greedily, still sensitive from before.

He collapses then, careful to lean himself to the side so as to not crush you. His breathing is strenuous, as is yours.

He moves to lay on his side, one arm stretched out. He pulls you with him, making sure his dick is still firmly nestled in your warmth. He pulls your crotch flush with his, draping your leg over his hip.

“Gotta make sure you keep as much as possible in there babe,” he says and presses a kiss to your forehead.

Your arm wraps around his chest, pulling yourself to him, resting your head on his outstretched bicep. His other arm wraps around you, holding you close, his hand rubbing soothing patterns to your back.

“Hey,”

He tucks a hand under your chin, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Thank you…It feels like forever since my mind was this clear.” You smile, grabbing his hand and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“Of course, ma Jake. You are my mate, my love, my future. I would do anything for you. And know, when it is my turn, I will be far more needy than you.”

His eyes widen at the prospect and it makes you laugh.

“Don’t worry, all will be well, I promise. But you must rest, this moment of reprieve will last for only so long. Tomorrow your body will return with renewed vigour.”

He kisses you then, long enough to steal your breath. It feels almost too soon when he pulls away.

“Then you go to sleep too [Y/N]. Because come tomorrow, I’m not lettin’ you outta my sight. Gonna keep my promise, and breed you till you can’t think straight,” he gives you one teasing thrust, causing you to yip in surprise.

Jake laughs at your reaction, before snuggling his face into your hair. He breathes deep of your scent, letting the warmth of your body pressed to his calm him.

You in turn snuggle yourself into his neck, pressing a soft kiss there.

“I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too baby.”

Sleep takes you, and your dreams are filled with the laughter of children.

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akawrites000 · 3 years

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sunflowers, breaking clichés and faraway lovers

Hero trudges back home, her foot kicking up some mud on this lonely strip of road. She can't decide if she's happy or frustrated that nothing ever happens where she lives, not even villains, as if they don't find this place appealing enough to even visit.

She decides, after a moment, that maybe it's both. She's both happy that she doesn't have to deal with villains here, that this is the one constant place that she has in her life, and she's also a little frustrated that nothing ever happens here, and everywhere you see are familiar faces. She kind of wishes her town had the tradition to were masks like people in Jaoanese festivals do, so that it would at least bring some novelty into this place. Or she wishes that she can spot a new face somewhere, but the only face she wants to see right now is that of her partner's.

The wind blows to the left, and she turns to look. That's the path that leads to the sunflower field, one of her all time favourite places. She takes out her phone as the wind pushes her further to the field, holding the device in front of her face, trying to get a nice angle. Click. She opens villain’s chat and hits the send button, with a yellow heart emoji attached to the picture. She then sits down at the edge of the field, legs dangling, eyes taking in the spectacular view in front of her. This is probably the only place I'll never get tired of, even if it's the same ten years from now, she thinks.

Hero’s phone vibrates in her pocket, and she pulls it out to see a message from villain. She opens the chat — smiling softly.

V: This looks so beautiful!! Is this the sunflower field that you always talk about? Thank you for the picture baby💛

Hero takes a moment to swoon. She loves it when villain calls her baby, and she has a feeling that they know that too.

H: Yes it is, one of my favourite places ever! I wish I could show this to you someday.

There it is, hero thinks. This ache that mixes up with the bubbly feelings in her chest because her lover lives in an entirely different continent away from her and there's nothing either of them can do about it for now. It's this sizzling agony that's there right under her skin, keeping her awake at night sometimes.

V: That sounds lovely. I would love to see it.

And then hero’s smiling, grinning. So much that her cheeks start to hurt and those blue feelings inside her chest slowly melt away, leaving her with this happy, giddy haze. Somewhere inside, the logical part of her speaks — what is even happening ?

Hero ignores that and just stares at the wide expanse of the field in front of her, beautifully painted by the sun setting on the horizon behind. She lets her mind wander to villain, her lover whom she's never met but knows — because one doesn't have to meet to know someone right? Of course hero aches to meet them, just like all the lovers in ancient texts do. She's no different. So she tries to meet them in her imagination at least- one hand in their soft, brown hair, while the other cups their cheek, tender with that natural blush that drives her crazy; and then villain's hands are in her hair, tangling her long back strands but she can't find it in herself to care one bit —

Her phone buzzes again and hero’s pulled out of that soft world in her mind, back to the real one. Her eyes take in her surroundings once again, noticing the changes. The sky is inky blue, like deep ocean waters and the sun is nowhere to be seen . The sunflowers that were all looking at the sun like dedicated devotees, have now turned to look at their loved ones next to them instead, and settle in their arms for the night. Hero looks at her phone, her mind working in two angles — one thinking about this fact that she read about sunflowers somewhere while the other focuses on villain’s chat box.

V: You'll have to fight supervillain later this evening right?

Hero groans as she remembers her pressing duties to this city — fighting supervillains, protecting the civilians, being the symbol of justice. It's only in the short time that she spends with villain — in their chatbox, occasional phone calls, when she thinks of villain, that she feels like a normal twenty something, just living her life and falling in love with someone breathtakingly amazing.

H: You're always more updated about my schedule than I am xD But yeah, I have to.

Hero imagines villain’s mouth, unable to decide between their usual smirk or rare soft smiles. She wonders what expression they're wearing right now.

V: Of course I am. That's one thing technology is good for.

Hero chuckles, simply happy that villain even bothers to keep track of all of this.

V: Fight safely and vigilantly okay? Trust your gut feelings, they're always valid. Your feelings are always valid.

Hero clutches her phone tight in her hand, trying to bury her face into her own arms. Her heart performs this dance everytime villain does stuff like this, and she never knows how to handle it.

H: Thank you my love❤ I'm a little nervous of course, but I think I'll be okay. I can do this.

Hero knows there's no point in putting up a front or lying to villain. They always know somehow. And hero thinks that she doesn't want to lie — she's always putting up a front for the world, the people, her opponents. So she wants at least this one person in the entire world to know who she really is, in all her silly, anxious and raw glory.

V: You'll be fine baby. You're an amazing fighter and I believe in you.

Okay, that's it. Hero feels like her entire body is on fire and she forces herself to look away from the phone screen at the field in front of her so that her fingers don't start doing this embarrassing keysmash that people generally seem to do when they're embarrassed. Does she want to do that? She thinks she'd rather avoid it. Or at least try to.

That's when her mind supplies that fact about sunflowers that it was trying to remember. When the sun is not visible, the sunflowers turn towards one another, as if the sun is just a fever dream that is abandoned as soon as it dips below the horizon, and the only real things that exist in the world are the flowers themselves and their partners who exist right beside them. Hero watches as the wind gently coaxes them, one flower falling into another and vice versa, as they hold each other and dance while the first stars form constellations in the sky. Hero thinks how beautiful this is, that there is a whole universe beyond clichés, that a sunflower doesn't have to achingly wait for a sun that will never belong to it, but instead the world is for its taking as it falls in love with the flower next to it — one that will return its feelings.

And all of a sudden, hero is overwhelmed by this weird emotion in her chest. She can't name it, she's always been bad with names. But sitting here and looking at these sunflowers breaking clichés makes her heart soar for some inexplicable reason. It's like nature is telling her that nothing else matters other than feelings that are respected and returned.

She opens villain's chat and starts typing in everything that she's realised in the past minute with increased fervour, afraid that all of these thoughts would just up and disappear into a puff of nothing because nothing is really everlasting — except this one moment. And she plans to make the best of it. She types the last letter, then attaches a close-up picture of two sunflowers with tangled petals facing one another and hits send.

Villain takes a minute to reply, but it brings the brightest smiles to hero's face regardless.

V: I don't know if you even realise this, but I just love the way you fucking think ❤ The sunflowers seem like they could pass for humans themselves don't they? Because I just find this whole thing alarmingly human — the way we have our hearts on our sleeves when we know no one else is looking, for that one person.

Hero sighs happily, she didn't think feeling understood could feel this liberating. It's definitely one of those feelings that people can get high on , she thinks. Damn, she thinks she's definitely getting high on this herself.

H: Thank you love, I love the way you think too! And I do agree, the sunflowers are humans xD (plus ten heart emojis).

A few more minutes go by and hero receives another message from villain with this attached picture:

there's a hand (hero guesses it's villain’s hand) holding two violet flowers together (so they look like they're hugging) with this caption —

I had to chase away two ducks for this picture, because these flowers were apparently their evening snack. How cool is that?

And hero’s full blown laughing now, the clutching-your-stomach kind of laughing and she hopes that the laughing emoji on her phone would do this justice. Probably not.

—

Here's the live coverage of Hero vs Supervillain-

The newsreader reads live from the venue and villain’s eyes refuse to leave the tv screen for even a single moment. They watch as their hero holds her ground against such a powerful foe and villain’s heart fills up to the brim with a mix of fondness and pride. They don't feel the rest of the evening pass by, as they sit and watch the entire live coverage without as much as even getting up.

Hero emerges victorious, and she has a few surface injuries here and there, some nasty looking gashes but she's standing there and she's alive and she's okay and villain finally lets out a breath that they didn't even know they were holding.

That's their strong, sweet and kind hero and villain can't be happier to call her their girlfriend.

Hellooo there lovely people!! I know it's been a long while since I posted (that's because life is pretty hectic rn) but I finally found some time to write (and procrastinate, but that's the usual lol). So what's new is that I've given you all some female rep, because I just realised that I haven't really written much female mc content. So I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and thank you for your support as always - means a lot<3

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ask19thcentury-doctorgilbert · 3 years

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Hey there! I thought I’d answer this ooc because Gilbert would never give a straight answer to these questions and after last night’s post I’m really down to talk more in depth about the doc’s mental health.

But before I dive into that, I just wanted to say thank you? I’m really glad to know that you think I do a good job at handling the portrayal of his mental health struggles, that really means a lot and is one of the best compliments I’ve been given ;v; I try to be as realistic and sensitive as I can and I’m glad to know that it pays off!

Alright, onto some headcanon rambling. Fair warning, this post is long and I go off into several tangents sdjjkds

Trigger warnings for the content below: depression, anxiety, suicide, childhood neglect / abuse, self-harm, and bad coping habits.

There’s at least 6 points in Gil’s life wherein his mental health was at its worst: the death of his father, the majority of his duchy years, frederick’s death, the napoleonic era, the entire stretch of the gdr era, and those years between the fall of the wall and him leaving to go to university in Zurich. I can write an entire post about each of those times, but for the sake of answering these asks, I’ll be focusing mainly on the first point and his crusader years.

To answer the first question, I think Gilbert’s first major depressive episode happened when he was a child after his adoptive father, Otmar Beilschmidt, died. He was a constant, comforting presence in the boy’s early life; someone he knew he can depend on and turn to if things ever got too scary or overwhelming. Even after he got ‘turned’ into a representative and the heads of the Order formally took him in, little Gisil still kept being stuck to his father’s hip. And Otmar, as unsettled as he was to find out that his son was suddenly some kind of miracle child, did his best to come to terms with it and help his son cope with his new nature too.

(Slightly off topic side note but I always had the idea that Otmar never really got over reacting with shock whenever he witnessed anything that confirmed that his son wasn’t fully human anymore, like watching a small scratch stitch itself back together. Gisil, being a perceptive and sensitive child, would catch on to that quick and I’m 100% sure he’s asked his father if he was afraid of him before. To which I’m sure Otmar told a half-truth and said that no, he wasn’t afraid of him --- After all, how could he be afraid of someone that God created to bring some good into the world?)

Either way, the sudden loss of that steady, dependable figure in his life really knocked Gisil’s world out of balance and triggered his first major depressive episode. He wouldn’t eat much at mealtimes and found it hard to sleep at night which would then translate into the kid being far more irritable and restless than usual during the day; prone to tantrums and crying if something didn’t go his way. But instead of someone sitting down and trying to understand why he was acting out, he was chastised for acting the way he did; told that he was allowed to grieve his father, but he had to be more mature about it and behave better. Not wanting to disappoint the adults who would be looking after him now, Gisil taught himself how to swallow back the hurt and put a lid on it. It didn’t make him hurt any less, in fact it may have started to translate into physical symptoms like a mildly upset stomach or a headache, but it didn’t bother anyone and his new parental figures seemed to approve so he just came to accept that it must be the right thing to do.

While he eventually got over the worst of the pain relating to his father’s death (or at least learned how to stuff it far enough in the back of his mind that he could pay it no mind) those symptoms continued to quietly haunt him. Mikael was prone to having trouble sleeping in the night (and he often passes the time by practising his writing, or sometimes he’ll get up and sneak out of the sleeping quarters to just sit in the chapel. sometimes praying, sometimes just sitting quietly and hoping that the silence and the coolness coming from the stone walls would somehow lull him to sleep) and to having days where he acts more hot-headed and impulsive than usual.

The disconnect between desperately wanting to be the ‘good’ person he believes he was created to be and some of the awful things the Order has done to do ‘good’ in the name of God also feeds into that depression and anxiety, especially when he keeps bottling it up because he really has no one to talk to about these things and because that’s what he’s used to doing. This internal conflict will eventually bubble over in his Duchy years, a period of time where Gilbert’s whole mental and emotional well-being was incredibly fragile. (If you wanna read more about what happened during that time, I have an old post about it here. Trigger and content warnings are at the very beginning!)

As for the second question, I think it’s safe to say Gilbert was messed up by essentially being a child soldier. Physical damage doesn’t stay long but the mental/emotional damage was extensive.

Even if his first depressive episode was triggered by his father’s death, the things he saw and experienced during his time as the representative of the Teutonic Order, definitely helped to make things worse. All the bad habits and symptoms he experienced in his youth continue to haunt him until adulthood. Gilbert would still rather brush someone’s concern off with an ‘I’m fine’ coupled with a reassuring smile than risk bothering them with whatever he’s dealing with. Since staying with Konrad and Reiner (who have their own struggles that deserve its own post) he’s learned to open up a little more with enough prompting, but he’d still much rather keep his problems to himself. He still regularly struggles with insomnia that gets worse when he finds himself in a slump, which then translates to frustration, irritability, and a tendency to neglect self care like forgetting to eat. He’s struggled with suicidal thoughts before and has made an attempt on two occasions: once in his Duchy years, the other right after the Napoleonic Era came to a close.

I think another thing that really added fuel to the fire is just the nature of Gil’s existence? Like most nations in his generation have had the chance to just roam around being children in their childhood, some might have even been cared for by the ancients, but he’s never had any of that? He had 10 years of it as a regular human child and then another 8 years after he was ‘turned’ of simply tending to sick and injured pilgrims. He had only 18 years of relative normalcy before he was thrown into a life of constant war, made out to be some holy figurehead, while I feel like most others had much longer. His ability to compartmentalize, to separate the self from the nation, was lacking compared to others in his cohort because he was just so young, physically and in nation years, when he was thrown into the mess. He’s a child nation who’s still young enough to remember his life as a human, to remember what it’s like to think and feel and to fear like a human and I think that messed with his ability to cope. Templar and Hospitaller might be the only ones who can understand what that was like since I think they were thrown into the fire relatively quickly after they were turned as young kids, but Ezekiel is far away and Sanson... Well, we all know what happened to poor Sanson.

The good news is, in the modern day, he is doing so much better since he started regularly meeting with a therapist and getting on the right medication regimen. It took him a while to really accept the fact that he needs help, even if logically he knew this was the right thing to do. There are still bad days but the genuinely good days far outnumber them now and that’s worth the uphill climb that is trying to sort out his issues.

#answered #[ headcanon ]#aph prussia #hws prussia #gilbert beilschmidt #depression tw //#anxiety tw //#suicide tw //#self harm tw //#childhood neglect tw //#gilbert looks put together on the outside but #he's really that image of the china cabinet with all the dishes pressed against the door #and if you open it everything's just gonna come crashing down #but he tries to do better #and tries his goddamn best not to repeat the bad parts of his upbringing #when it comes to raising his boy #in fact he tried so hard that he messed it up BUT #thats a conversation for another day

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seokiie · 4 years

Text

𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝙼)

+ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵.

+ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2𝘬

+ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 (𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘷𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘱𝘸𝘱, ��𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵

on AO3

(𝘱𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘭)

↭

"Aish, I don't deserve these compliments. I could've done better on stage today." Jimin looks at his reflection through the camera and brushes his fingers through his hair. Jimin was currently on v-live. He had requested you stay by his side for the duration of the live, something about your company being able to calm his nerves. You accepted, of course. But you opted to stay just barely out of frame, so the millions of viewers could only hear your voice.

"Jiminie! Don't say that. You did well!" You pat him on the shoulder and after he responds with a toothy grin.

"You know just what to say to cheer me up, y/n." You can feel the way Jimin stares daggers through the side of your head when the words leave his mouth.

God, you pray he's not pulling this shit again.

You don't have a hard time ignoring the unrelenting glances, but when his hand finds its way to your thigh, slowly caressing the area before giving you a light squeeze, yeah. That's when it gets hard to ignore.

Jimin's hand stays on your thigh, kneading your bare skin like it was some sort of stress ball. You're so lucky you can barely be seen on screen, the way you were fidgeting under his grasp was a dead give away.

"Y/n, can you read out some questions for me to answer?" You give a terse nod before realizing no one can see you.

"Yes, ah-" At that moment, Jimin's hand was drifting towards your inner thigh, gripping you gently and pulling your leg towards him. The action advertently opens your legs and it nearly makes you choke on your spit.

"Yeah, I-I'll read a few questions for, uh, for you."

You wonder if this is too far. Jimin's hand is inching closer and closer to your center and it's getting harder for you to read out the questions in the chat. He's live in front of thousands, no, millions of fans yet he has no problem doing this to you just barely out of frame.

"Are you okay, y/n? You don't have to keep reading if you don't want to." You can feel his eyes and you know he's giving you the look. The look he does with half-lidded eyes and his lips drawn into a tight smirk. It was obvious he was getting off on the way he affected you. You were like putty in his hands.

"I'm fine. I'll read this question." You say through a breathy exhale and he laughs. It feels like you're the only one who knows what that laugh entails.

"Jimin opp-" You cut yourself off and you feel your body heat up. Calling him oppa in this scenario felt different. Kind of dirty.

"Jimin, I'm happy you're back in Korea. How-" You continue but this time Jimin cuts you off.

"Ah, stop." You turn to him confused. His hand massages closer and you can feel his fingertips brush against your core. "You should read the question accurately. Do it again."

"Sorry. Jimin, oh." A wave of pleasure washes over you. His hands were up your skirt and he was rubbing you slowly through the thin panties you wore. You slap a hand over your mouth as soon as the sound leaves.

"Haha, she dropped something. Don't worry, you can keep reading." Jimin makes an excuse for the viewers quickly and you continue.

"Jimin-oppa, I'm happy- happy you're back in Korea. How was your time with bangtan in America?"

"I am so happy you asked." He growls and his hand slowly slips past the thin material. It's getting harder and harder for you to stay quiet, especially when one of his fingers is easing inside you.

"LA is so nice. Maybe it's because of all the rain in Korea. Aish, it's far far far too wet here." He slips a second finger in and you try your best to bite your tongue. As he fucks you with his two fingers, you feel your self melt around him, throwing your head back and spreading your legs farther.

"It's very pretty over there. I think I'll have to visit again. And again." He's added a third finger and he's fucking you in time with his words. You feel a familiar coiling inside you and he knows you're about to cum by the way you clench around him.

"Jimin-ah. I'm close." Your voice is barely audible, but you know he heard you because as soon as the words leave your mouth, he's removing his hand.

"I think I should get going now, army. It's getting pretty late, right? I have to rest so I can show you guys my best performance." He gives a peace sign before turning off the vlive. When his finger hits the red button, you can feel your heart in your throat. What was he going to do now that you two were truly alone?

"I finally have you to myself. Come." He instructs you to sit on his lap and you scramble out of your little wheely chair to follow the order. When you straddle his waist, you can feel his cock straining against his skinny jeans. You can't imagine how much he's been suffering.

"I wonder why I can't stop thinking about you lately." He starts to unzip himself. "I can hear you and Jungkook sometimes. I can't help but wonder how good he fucks you to make you scream like that." You let out a needy moan when he springs from his boxers. Your mouth waters at the thought. "I can't help but wonder if I can make you scream louder."

"Fuck, Jimin." You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, letting your hands comb through the hair at his nape. You're happy you wore a skirt today because the tip of Jimin's cock is pressed beautifully against your lips and it's taking all your weight not to drop down on him and take all of his length at once.

"Are you going to ride me, baby? Gonna sit on my cock and take every inch of me?" One of his hands drifts from your hips to your waist, the other carding through your hair. "Come on, y/n. Show me how well you can take my cock."

At that, you slowly lower yourself on his length and with the way he stretches you out, you can't help but let out a breathy moan into his collarbone.

You steadily increase your pace, his nails digging into the skin at your hips as you took more and more of him faster. A mix of focus and pleasure clouds your mind and you completely miss the sound of the studio door opening.

"Jimin-ahh!" The sudden familiar voice grabs your attention and you look towards the door. Jungkook is standing at the doorway and you almost jump off Jimins dick out of pure shock.

"I let you do a vlive with y/n and somehow you end up fucking her." Despite Jungkook standing at the door, Jimin doesn't stop his suttle thrusts inside you.

"I knew you were watching-" He lets out a growl when you clench around him. "I knew you saw the way I was touching her on vlive. You're next door yet you didn't do anything. I assumed you were letting me have her for myself." Jungkook scowls at his words.

"Or did you enjoy the show? She was already so wet after I only touched her thigh. You should reward her for staying so quiet in front of millions of people."

"Don't you see how wrong that is? Doing something like that in front of army?" Tucking your head into the nook of Jimin's neck, you miss how Jungkook steps closer.

"You're trying to take the moral high ground but look how hard you are, Kookie." Tilting your head up from Jimin's shoulder you look to the right to see if what he said is true.

So be it, it is. Jungkook was wearing loose-fitting grey sweatpants and he was visibly tenting and on display. Your mouth watered at the sight.

"Jagi, be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me." You follow his instructions and get on the ground before him; he tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

"You'll let Jungkook fuck you while you suck my dick, won't you?" The powerful glint in his eyes contradicts the sweet tone of his voice, you give him a quick nod as an answer.

"That's a good girl. Jungkook-ah, come here." You guess the proposition of getting a piece of you was enough to make him forget his anger because now he's pulling down his sweatpants, his cock springing out from the confines of his pants and slapping his belly.

You always forget how big Jungkook is, each time you wonder if he'll really fit.

"You'll let our maknae ruin that beautiful pussy of yours, right?" At that sentence, you feel a presence behind you before something hard is prodding your entrance. You let out a breath that borders on a moan when he slips the head of his cock inside you.

"That's right. Open wide for me, Jagiya." As soon as you open your mouth, Jungkook is easing every inch of himself inside you and if it weren't for Jimin shoving his length down your throat, you would've let out a moan alerting everyone in the dorm.

"Fuck, y/n. You take me so well." Jungkook's thrusts don't start off slow. As soon as he's buried in you to the hilt, he's pulling out fully and fucking into you hard. The power of his thrusts has you taking more and more of Jimin's cock till you're almost choking around him.

Jimin's hands find their way into your hair and you watch with clouded eyes as he throws his head back, a sigh of your name slipping past his lips. Your name sounds so pretty on his tongue, it's almost overwhelming.

"I know you're close, y/n. God, I want you to cum all over my cock." You've never heard Jungkook talk like this but damn do you love it. His fingers travel underneath you to your aching bud, rubbing quick circles against you that have you clenching around him. At that, you can feel his hips stutter against you.

Jimin's hands knot themselves in your hair, unconsciously pushing you down till your nose was touching his abdomen. Your name along with a string of curses spill past his tongue. You struggle to swallow around him as he bucks into your mouth, his body spasming imperceptibly as he releases inside your mouth and down your throat.

"Ah, you got so tight around me. Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Will you cum with me?" Jungkooks words and his unyielding thrusts hitting the perfect spot inside you have you reeling towards your orgasm. Surely enough you cum at the same time.

When you finally catch your breath, Jimin pulls you up and brings you into a kiss.

"You did so well. I guess Jungkook isn't mad at me anymore?" The smile on Jimin's face mirrors one of a Cheshire cat. You laugh when Jungkook rolls his eyes in response.

"Let's see how cocky you are when I tell Namjoonie Hyung. You too, y/n. Namjoon won't go easy on you, either."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

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b00t-s · 3 years

Text

We're all gossip-y bitches sometimes

this is part two

Janus xey/xem

Roman she/he

Patton he/him

Virgil he/him

See the character intros for more info

TW. Swearing, arguments, alcohol, drunk characters, the word v//mit is used once, characters being characters, past trauma mentioned, tiny tiny tiny sprinkle of angst but just a passing of it at end, and nothing to intense

Again, tell me if I'm being insensitive. Shout at me if I am.

Summary: Patton goes to talk to Janus about Roman. The group opens...'some' bottles. Virgil adds on some...interesting opinions.

Events occur few hours after this.

Janus just finished xeir nightly shift when Patton came bounding up to xem. Janus raised an eyebrow at how ecstatic he looked.

"Yes?" Xey managed out, forcing back the hundreds of snarky comments xey could of said right then.

"Can you hang out at My house later?" Patton practically beamed out.

"why would I want to 'hang out'? It's just a social construct created to give people a higher sense of being." Janus remarked, flipping to closed/open side to closed.

"So you'll be there?"

"hmm. Will doom-and-gloom be there?

"doom and---ohhh, Virge. Yeah, probably," Patton realised now that this was a bad mix of people to invite "probably-probably not for long though!"

"Fine" Janus replied, taking off xeir apron. Xey ignored the obvious lie. "I'll be there in an hour." Xey knew one way or another xey would end up there due to Patton's... effective persuading.

"Great!" Patton exclaimed "oh yeah, and...um...it's raining outside so..take my umbrella, kay?"

His tone more serious all of a sudden, Patton nodded to Janus' heavily made up face, so well done an ignorant bystander wouldn't of noticed the thick layers of foundation on xeir face.

Patton handed xem a translucent umbrella, patterned with cute frogs and flowers, to Janus. Ignoring the distasteful cartoons, Janus nodded and took the umbrella.

"See you soon, Jan!" Patton cheerily waved as he bounced off.

Janus folded xeir apron, opened Patton's umbrella and braved the outdoors.

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

Janus arrived at Patton's house exactly on time, bone dry, despite the heavily flowing rain. Patton expected nothing less of his friend. He invited xem inside, amazed as always by his friend's everyday fashion.

Jan was wearing a casual yellow shirt over a long sleeved black shirt. Fishnet gloves adorned xeir hands, and xeir ruffled hair was let lose.

Xeir fashionably messy hair was topped with a neatly placed black fedora, which of xey never took off. Xey even scarred persuaded Thomas to let xem wear it to work.

Patton offered xem a smile, and walked xem upstairs. "Hi Jan!" He grinned.

"Hello" xey replied mundanely.

Xey absent-mindedly glanced at Patton's outfit, which contained a violet cashmere sweater, bell bottomed jeans, circular silver glasses and a sunflower clip in his perfect curls.

It was a good look, xey had to admit.

When they both reached Patton's room, Janus stood still, taking in xeir surroundings.

Patton's room was covered with things from the 2000's; Tamagotchi's, stickers pressed up against the pastel wall, stuffed animals, wristbands, old CD's, care bears posters and butterfly clips littering the floor in a deadly trap.

A trans flag was pinned above the single bed with blue tack, right next to some inspirational and motivational quotes.

The whole place looked like it had been puked on by unicorns.

It hurt Janus' eyes.

Xey was a little overwhelmed by all the spiraling colours and nostalgia-inducing objects, so xey sat cross-legged in the middle of the pink carpet. The world slowed down.

Janus wondered, not for the first time, how a 29 year old could be this cheerful.

Or appear this cheerful.

"Jan?"

Janus gave a small twitch of xeir head, realising that xey had spaced out. "Hmm?" Xey replied.

"Hey, you were up with the clouds! I was just saying, I think Virge is here" Patton chirped.

"oh"

"he...might be staying for a little longer then i said"

"How wonderful." Janus muttered, knowing this would happen but hating it anyway.

"oh, don't be like that! I'm sure you guys could become friends!" Janus snorted. "Or...at least not kill at each other whenever you're in the same general area" Patton corrected.

"Anyway! I'm going to greet him at the door!" He suddenly proclaimed, skipping downstairs.

Janus was disgusted at how naïve this man was.

But that was a lie.

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

Patton slowed his happy skip to a casual walk. His grin slipped into a content smile as he reached the end of the stairs. Being so happy takes its toll on people, he thought. Soft tapping of the door interrupted his thoughts as he opened the door to reveal Virgil.

The first thing you notice about this man was his unfair tall-ness. He nearly had to duck to get inside; being too skinny didn't help. Virgil was wearing a plain black hoodie over a mcr top, completing the look with a short, pleated skirt and docs. His face was slathered in white foundation, accompanied with dark eyeshadow under his eyes.

"Virge!! I'm glad you could make it, even if you are late!!Again!" Patton hugged his friend, genuinely glad for his presence. The taller man patted Patton's curls awkwardly.

"Heyyyy Pat-" Virgil did the awkward pats on the back everyone does when they want to get out of a hug but don't want to say it in fear of hurting ones feelings. "Traffic-"

Patton withdrew from the hug and smiled. "okay! at least you're here safe! Can't control the traffic"

"Janus is waiting for us upstairs" Patton continued. He hurriedly carried on speaking before Virgil could spit out an insult about xem "say, you know what I hate about stairs? They're always up to something!" Patton laughed at his own joke, whilst Virgil pretended to face-palm, hiding a snigger.

"Alright, Alright dAd, didn't you say snake face was waiting for us?" Virgil mocked. Patton chuckled uncomfortably at the nickname, but nodded nonetheless.

"Yeah, we shouldn't leave xem waiting"

They both entered his room, having walked the short journey there in a comfortable silence. Patton noted Janus had not moved from were he left xem; xey had just shifted to read a book xey most likely found lying around. Janus looked up upon their arrival, xeir face immediately twisting into a mocking grimace upon seeing Virgil. "ah, you brought the racoon"

"Janus play nice--"

"you're one to talk, you participated in 2012 Tumblr" Virgil threw back

"must you be so wounding" Janus dramatically threw xeir hand against xeir forehead.

"okAY, that's enough guys." Patton firmly said. Janus pulled a face in reply, and Virgil returned the favour. Patton sighed. He just wanted them to get along, which was probably a high expectation by itself.

Perhaps he had booze leftover somewhere.

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

Twelve near fist fights, two crying sessions and many, many, many bottles of alcohol later, it was nearing eleven pm and the group was drunker than a litter of catnip high kittens.

They all crowded into a close-knit circle on the bed, nearly falling off but not caring.

"ssso your telling me that flashy asss hhimbo sssssaid I wasss hot but then rude and that I wore too muchh makeup? What a *hic* bitchh" Janus hissed.

Patton giggled. "yeeeeee, be nice though! She was kindaaaa alllllllll over the place!" Patton continued bluntly, "But how would you feel if I set you guys up????~"

"oh pleassssse do, I would just love that" Janus may be trashed but xey still knew sarcasm. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending who you are, Patton did not.

"yayyy! This is gonna be great!!"

Virgil butted in then, waving around the bottle he was holding "hold on, just holllld on a minute there, you're planning to set up that" he vaugly gestured in Janus' direction "with Princy??? Xey've known her for what, 4 minutes? Life isn't a disney movie"

"Dare I detect a hint of jealousy there emo?" Janus purred "am I that lovable?" Xey hiccuped.

"ooooooooh" Patton leaned into the circle, loving the drunk drama.

"wouldn't you like to know weather boy" Virgil droned back, finishing off the bottle.

"Honey, I would dare ssay that was a yesss"

"nO"

"oooooo, you liiiiike meeeEe"

"you disgust me"

"kinky"

Patton shook his hands excitingly at them, nearly hitting Virgil, causing them to shut up. "I can't believe you're finally open to a relationship after what happened! With my best friend no least! Boy did I try to get you to go on more dat--" Patton suddenly clasped his hands over his mouth as if he just said something nasty.

Everyone went silent. Janus stared at Patron, xeir mouth slightly parted. Virgil laughed nervously to try and break the tension. It sounded strained.

Janus began to speak to stop Patton from starting to spout drunken apologies. "Well thatssss jusst a liee, I've dated pleeenty of people over..well...that...period..of time."

Everyone went silent again, not quite sure on what to say.

Virgil's anxiety was heightening due to the social awkwardness and the influence of the alcohol.

Patton was fidgeting in his lap.

It was Janus yet again who broke the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Sssso, *hic* you ssaid you wanted me to go out with thisss idiot?"

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

first-previous-next

updated masterpost

tag list: @arrowthenon-binaryroyalty, @spellingwillbethedeathofme,

ask if you want to be added or removed from tag list

and we meet our boi virgil

context is for losers

i could of probably cut out unnecessary things in that but y'know I'm new and I like it

these posts will be in chronological order, unless flashback, but it's not following a set-in-stone story line, so asks are, yet again, much appreciated.

I procrastinated too much during the making of this

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #janus sanders #genderfluid!janus #patton sanders #trans!patton #virgil sanders #alcohol mention #Janus what have you agreed to #hiss hiss bitch #this story is all over the place plz #roceit #platonic moxiety #This won't and never will be a moxiety fic I'm sorry #their father ans son relashionship #no hate on the ones who do ship it #it just isn't my cup of tea #Ok-ish

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neon-junkie · 4 years

Text

A Night in Rhodes - Male Version

Summary: Kieran finally accepts your generous offer of buying him a new set of clothes, as well as helping him bathe.

Pairing: Kieran Duffy x m!Reader

Word Count: 3353

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Bath, Bathing, Rhodes, Drinking, Whiskey, Friends to lovers, First time, Bath sex, Anal sex, Smut, Making out, Passionate sex, Bottom!Reader, Top!Kieran.

Notes: I’ve never came across a bathing Kieran fic before?? It’s canon he’s stinky but damn, why ain’t y'all helping him wash?! This is part two of a lil Kieran series, the first part is here.

FEMALE VERSION

Kieran had worked overly-hard today, his feeble bones aching whilst he sweated buckets in the blazing sun. You had watched from under the shade of your tent as camp members scolded him the minute he sat down to take a break, treating him like a slave; you'd told a few of them off, waving your hand at any excuse they came up with him. Thankfully, the sun was setting and the temperature was dropping.

You'd planned on going into town and insisted Kieran came with you. He was currently washing the sweat off his face in the lake, wiping the water off with his sleeve as he let out a sigh.

"Kieran," you said from behind him, making the poor boy jump.

"Jheeze! Why you gotta startle me like that?" Kieran said as he turned to you.

"Sorry," you smiled, trying not to laugh. "You ready to come into town with me?"

"You're really serious about takin' me, ain't you?" Kieran asked. He had it drilled into his head that no one wanted to give him the time of day, let alone treat him to some new clothes and a hot bath.

"Course I am, else I wouldn't have asked," you reply.

"Well, lead the way then," Kieran says as he stands upright.

The two of you mounted your horses and began the short ride over to Rhodes. It was a weekday, the sun getting ready to set and hopefully, the Saloon wouldn't be too busy. You hitch your horses outside and head to the bar, ordering a room and a bath. The bartender lets you know it'll be a few minutes, so you buy a round. Kieran spends the whole time bothering you, saying 'you ain't gotta do all this for me' and 'I really appreciate it but this is too much.' You brush him off, insisting he accepts it.

"The next ones on me though, alright?" Kieran tells you before the two of you have a shot of whiskey. You watch his face scrunch up, not being too familiar with drinking. He orders the two of you a beer, his face remaining scrunched until he manages to gulp some of the beer down. You laugh at him, swigging on your beer as Kieran curses.

The bartender lets you know your bath is ready so the two of you head up, taking your room key from him.

"I'm gonna go get you some new clothes. You gonna behave yourself whilst I'm gone?" you jokingly ask him.

"I don't know why you're askin' me that. When ain't I well behaved?" Kieran responds.

"I'm only pullin' your leg," you smile. "Now go get in the bath, I won't be long."

You shut the door behind you, leaving Kieran alone to get himself in the bath.

Your trip into town doesn't take long, popping to the general store to get Kieran some new clothes, along with a bottle of whiskey, some treats for the horses, and some snacks for tomorrow... or tonight, depending on if you or Kieran got too drunk.

Kierans a little nervous but quick to undress, leaving his clothes folded on a chair. He settles into the water, the bath a milky colour, full of suds and bubbles. He relaxes, enjoying the warmth of the water, watching the fire through half-lidded eyes. Kieran slowly dips his head under the water, getting his hair wet so he can pick the shampoo bar off the bath rack and begin washing his hair, using what's left on his hands to scrub through his beard.

Kieran hears a knock at the door just as his head comes back up from the water, rinsing the shampoo out.

"Come in," he says, knowing it's you.

You open the door to see Kieran wiping the wet hair off his face, looking a little bit like a drowned rat.

"Enjoying your bath?" You ask him, locking the door behind you.

"Yeah," Kieran replies. He watches you unpack your bag, leaving the items on a chair in the corner of the room.

Kieran frowns a little as you approach him with the bottle of whiskey, filling two empty glasses on the bath rack. You notice his frown.

"This was all they had," you shrug. Kieran brushes it off, taking a swig of his drink, frowning yet again at the taste. You're quick to finish your drink, pouring yourself another one.

"You don't look that clean for someone whos in a bath," you tease him, sitting down on your knees. The bath reaches your chest, you rest your arms on the rim. You're thankful the water isn't clear, not wanting to make Kieran uncomfortable.

"I've only just got in!" Kieran defends himself. You giggle at him.

"You still want me to bathe you, Mister Duffy?" you offer, a flirtatious tone to your voice. Kieran lightly nods. You notice the bounce of his Adam's apple, nervously gulping.

"You let me know if you're uncomfortable though, okay?" You tell him as you pick up the luffa and bar of soap off the bath rack.

"I will," Kieran reassures you. He sits forward, watching you lather up the luffa.

You start with his arms, gently but firmly scrubbing over his skin, watching as the many patches of dirt wash away. You trail up them, going over his chest to reach the other arm. You make your way to his back, scrubbing all over it, moving his hair off his neck so you can scrub the back of it. You can feel how tense Kieran is, despite not really touching him. You rub the luffa on your hands, getting them as soapy as you can. You drop the luffa into the water and begin massaging his back, doing your best to ease and relax him.

Kieran lets his eyes shut, his arms resting on the rim of the bath.

"You're far too kind on me," he tells you, one eye peeking open so he can take a sip of his drink.

"It ain't nice to see someone struggle and not help 'em," you tell him. Kieran hums in agreement with you, his eye shutting as he enjoys the attention you're giving him.

You work your way over his back, going down his shoulders. Once he feels better you urge him to lie back, letting himself relax in the tub.

"Did you wash this?" you ask Kieran as you attempt to run your fingers through his tangled hair.

"Yes!" Kieran sulks, unpicking your fingers from his hair.

"You ain't done a good job, I can still see dirt," you tell him. Kieran huffs and watches you pick up the bar of shampoo, properly washing his hair. You keep his head back, ensuring nothing trails into his eyes.

You put the bar back down, using what's left on your hands to clean his beard.

"At least your beard looks kinda clean," you tell him as you run your fingers through it.

Kieran catches your eyes just at the right time, the two of you staring at each other for a few lengthy moments. You watch his face slowly turn red, yours doing the same. You've got an overwhelming urge to Kiss Kieran, and little do you know, he has the same urge. Neither of you acts on it, breaking your eye contact so you can continue to wash him.

Kieran clears his throat, looking around the room. You pick the luffa back up, adding more soap to it as Kieran rinses his hair and beard, then picks up his drink, leaning back in the bath with it.

"I'm gonna wash your legs now," you inform him just before lifting one leg out the water and scrubbing over it.

Kieran nervously watches you, far too self-aware as his crotch was close to the water's surface. You're focused on cleaning him, switching over to his other leg, not realizing you're a little too close to his crotch.

Kieran lowers himself as deep as he can get, hoping his half-hard cock isn't noticeable through the milky water. You hadn't picked up on it until his sudden change, submerging himself as much as he can. You look up at Kieran who's staring at you with wide eyes, finishing off his drink. You offer him another glass to which he gladly accepts, filling his glass and placing the bottle back on the bath rack.

You watch Kieran sip on his drink, no longer scrunching his face at the taste of whiskey. You continue to wash his legs, knowing when you're getting too close to his crotch just from the way his chest rises and falls.

"You seem tense, Kieran," you inform him.

"No, no. I'm fine," he reassures you.

"But you'd tell me if you weren't, wouldn't you?" you ask him, concern in your tone of voice.

"Definitely, Mister," he replies, nodding his head at the same time.

You hear his consent loud and clear, going back to wash at his thighs, your hand slowly getting closer and closer to his crotch. Kierans watching your every move, feeling the buzz as he sips on his drink. He's rock hard by now, though you just don't know that yet. He can't help it! The way you're teasing him is too much. To be honest, he started getting hard the second you walked into the room. He hoped this would go somewhere, though wouldn't be surprised or get upset if it didn't. He respected you, and you respected him.

You place the luffa back down on the bath rack, using your hands to massage each of his thighs instead. He may be weak and fimble in his arms and body, but his thighs actually have some muscle to them. Your hands are close now, brushing over his V lines. Kieran lets out a small sigh the first time you trail over them; the suspense killing him.

Finally, your hand finds its way to his cock, gently kneading his balls before taking him into your hand. He's around average in size. Not so small that you can't feel him, and not so big that he'll hurt. He's well-sized, Kieran sized.

You overhear Kieran whimper as your hand wraps around him. He finishes his drink, leaning to the side so he can reach over the baths edge and place his glass on the floor, letting out a small thud. Kieran relaxes back against the bath, watching you hazily as you slowly stroke at his cock, your thumb gliding over each of his prominent veins. He lets out a small moan as your thumb rubs over his tip, eyes staring at the water despite not being able to see anything.

"This baths pretty big, you know," Kieran informs you, inviting you in.

"Are you asking me to join you, Kieran?" You ask him, a purr to your voice.

"Is it a sin if I am?"

"Only if you want it to be."

You stand upright before taking a sip of your drink. Kieran watches you undress, enjoying the small show you're putting on for him. You're quick to strip off, though you try not to show how eager you are, not wanting to come across as desperate, despite your very obvious hard-on.

Kieran sits upright, shuffling backward a little so you can climb into the bath. His hands are quick to grab hold of you, settling them on your waist as you straddle him.

The two of you are surprised as your crotch's brush against each other. You settle down so his cock is pressed flat against yours, and you can see how crazy that's driving him. It's driving you crazy too, the urge to rut your cock against his is unreal.

The two of you in sync lean in to finally kiss each other. Kieran keeps his arms around your waist, pulling you forward as your arms go over his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. You can faintly taste shampoo on his lips, though the heavy taste of whiskey drowns that out. He's passionately kissing you, open-mouthed, your tongues slipping into each others' mouths every so often. Kieran exhales, whimpering every time you grind against his cock, your own cock twitching at the friction.

Kieran's hands move from your waist down to your ass, giving them a firm squeeze. He urges you to sit forward slightly so his hand can reach around and find its way at your hole. You accidentally break the kiss with a moan as Kieran pushes a finger into you. Your fingers grip at his hair, foreheads pressed together, eyes shut. You continue trying to kiss him but you're cut off with every thrust he makes. Kieran knows what he's doing, slipping another finger into you and slowly working you open. You're thankful you spent some time prepping yourself earlier, having a hunch that tonight would end up this way. You burry your head in the crook of his neck, moaning his name as he fingers you. You reach down, lazily stroking at his cock, making his cock twitch, ignoring your own.

"Honestly, Mister, I really wanna fuck you but I'm still so exhausted from today's work," Kieran tells you, his fingers slowing down so you can respond.

"Let me ride you," you ask as you gently kiss him.

"You'd do that?" he asks.

"Of course. I'd love to."

Kieran passionately kisses you, his fingers slipping out of you so he can position you over his cock. You reach down under the water, keeping him in place as you line yourself up. You slowly slide down on him, both of you letting out a sigh as he fully slides in. You sit there for a moment, enjoying the way Kierans cock is stretching you despite that slight pain. Kieran's patient, allowing you to lead the way when you're ready to. Kieran grips hold of your hips as you slowly start to ride him, the bathwater making a slapping noise every time it hits your bodies. The two of you try to keep your moaning quiet, hearing how busy the Saloon was getting, along with the crackling of the open fire.

Your eyes are shut as you ride him, reaching down to jerk yourself at the same time, your other hand gripping onto the rim of the bath. Kieran's starstruck as he watches you, loving the pinkness to your cheeks, the way your mouth is partly open, the way you exhale in time with your thrusts. The fireplace is behind you, the light giving you a halo look. Kieran feels like he's making love to an angel.

Sadly, your knees are starting to ache. You lean forward a bit, trying to find an angle where they won't hurt as much. Kieran notices your pain urging you to lean forward so he can fuck you.

"Thought you were too tired for that?" You tease, looking down at him.

"I still got a little bit of life left in me," Kieran responds.

You grip hold of the bath rim above Kieran's head, leaning forward so Kieran can wrap his arms around your waist. He begins bucking up into you, his eyes closing shut as he rests his head on your chest. You let out a yelp as he begins, catching you off guard with his quick thrusts. You can hear Kieran's grunts and moans against your chest, breathing heavily as he fucks as fast as a rabbit.

You take one hand off the bath, tangling it through Kierans' hair, cupping the back of his head.

"Shit!" You yelp out as Kieran bucks deeper into you.

"To deep?" Kieran asks, quickly coming to a stop.

"No, no. I love it. Carry on," you urge him, so he does.

Kieran doesn't go as fast, his breathing already quite heavy. You begin to meet his thrusts, rolling your hips against his, jerking your own cock whenever you can. Kieran moans as you do it, leaning back against the bath so he can watch you through half-lidded eyes. You let go of his hair, your hand moving down to play with your balls. The eye contact seems to make Kierans cock twitch inside of you, hitting your prostate every so often.

You can tell Kieran's not going to last much longer from the way his cocks throbbing inside of you. He grabs a hold of your hips again, his mouth parted as he watches you ride along with his thrusts.

"I really want you to cum first," Kieran tells you, the tone in his voice hinting that he's ready to climax at any second.

"Tonight is about you," you inform him.

"Yeah, but that ain't right, not lettin' your partner cum before you," Kieran moans as you roll down hard on his hips, cutting the end of his sentence off.

"Aint you a gentleman. I'll cum first, but you follow me, alright?"

Kieran nods in agreement.

You pick up your pace, focusing on getting yourself off. Kierans trying his hardest to hold back, loving watching you get yourself off on his cock. He's moaning, whispering encouragement as he continues to slowly buck upwards into you. You let out a loud sigh, your body shuddering as your orgasm hits, You ride it, your ass tightening around Kieran whos loving every second of this, despite his chest now being covered in your seed.

Kieran quickly pulls you down firmly onto him, a large moan escaping his lips as he cums, his cock twitching inside of you, filling you up. He lets his breathing calm down, urging you off him. He slowly sits upright, crossing his legs so you have room to sit, almost knocking the bath rack as you move to sit opposite him.

"You good?" he asks you, leaning against the bath. You nod in response.

"Are you?" you ask him.

"Yeah. Real good," he smiles.

"Suppose we should get outta this dirty water," you joke, though the temperate of the bath is really beginning to dip now. Kieran nods, letting you get out first whilst he rinses your cum off his chest.

You wrap one of the soft towels around yourself, passing Kieran one as he exits the bath.

"These them clothes you got me?" Kieran asks you, eyeing up the neat bundle of fresh clothing.

"Yeah," you tell him. Your back is turned to him, focusing on drying yourself thoroughly. You eventually manage to get dressed, the clothing thankfully not sticking to you. You hang your towel up by the fire, putting away your belongings and Kierans' old clothes.

"What do you think?" Kieran asks. You hadn't put any focus on him, but your eyes lit up as you looked over at him.

Kieran was stood there in black leather boots, very dark brown jeans, and black suspenders. He wore a lovely yellow and black plaid shirt, the colours complimenting his outfit, along with a dark brown leather hat, the same style as his old ones. Kierans awaiting your approval, but you just stare at him, your heart fluttering at the sight.

"Mister?" he asks you.

"Kieran, you look adorable!" you squeal. "I mean... handsome," you correct yourself, trying not to make him feel mushy.

Kieran brushes off your comment. "Adorable? I like that," he smiles. "You got a way with pickin' outfits."

Your hand goes over your heart, your stomach and chest going fuzzy at the sight of him.

"You gotta let me pay you back some time," Kieran replies as he checks himself out in the mirror.

"No! I insist. It's my gift to you."

"But you've done so much for me. I can't accept all of this."

"Well, you're gonna have to. I ain't takin' any of it back, nor a penny off you," you tell him as you pick up your bags, going to unlock the door. Kieran rushes over to take the bags off you.

"At least let me buy some drinks for you then? And whatever else I can do to repay you?" Kieran offers as you open the door, the two of you exiting into the Saloon.

"Fine, Kieran," you roll your eyes at him.

The two of you head down to your room, leaving the bags there and making your way back over to the bar. You hand over the bathroom key as Kieran orders the first round of drinks. The two of you spend the night getting drunk together, turning more than a few heads. By the end of the night, Kieran trying his hardest to keep his hands off you. He eventually drags you out the back, pinning you up against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. A few drunken men pass by but only the one makes a comment, 'get a room!'

It's a good thing you'd booked one. You're gonna need it.

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chrismho · 4 years

Text

Lakmé

Summary: Is this not the closest I’ve ever been to living? The Kurosaki Family invites Rukia along with them to the Opera. Ichiruki/Rukia-centric one-shot inspired by the opera scene in Moonstruck. Set a little bit after FB arc.

PS: It’s a pretty famous song but if you haven’t heard Flower Duet before, I highly rec you give this rendition a listen, it’s breathtaking! : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9NK-EbUAao

“ICHIGOOOOOOO! RUKI-CHAAAAAN!”

SMACK!

A day in the Kurosaki household was not complete without at least one collision between Isshin’s face and either Ichigo’s foot or fist.

“I don't know how many times I have to tell you, old man: QUIT DOING THAT!” Ichigo roared, swiftly kicking his father back to the other side of the living room.

Rukia waited patiently for Isshin to complete this strange ritual, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, Masaki!” Isshin sobbed, throwing himself upon his poster. “H-how cruel, how unloving our son has become! And Rukia at his side, so pure and lovely! W-we truly have here a beauty and the beast!”

“SHUT IT!”

The dark-haired shinigami watched them butt heads and felt a vague sense of nostalgia swirl inside her. I didn’t realize how much I…missed this, she silently admitted to herself. Seventeen months had passed and Rukia kept herself busy with work--very busy. Too busy to stop and realize just how much she missed life in Karakura. But now that she was back, the realization was sudden and overwhelming; she missed late night hollow-hunting, the bustling hallways at Karakura High, she missed Keigo, Mizuiro, Tatsuki, she missed indulging in her schoolgirl act, pretending that she was human and truly one of them. But most of all, she missed him. That was a realization that had set Rukia very much on edge. Ichigo was a comrade, a partner, a friend. A friend she found herself pining for in those seventeen months. She recalled a saying she learned in the human world, something along the lines of “absence makes the heart grow fonder”.

Absence had only made Rukia’s heart confused as hell.

Though almost two years had passed, her relationship with Ichigo picked up almost right where they left off. They bickered, laughed, they understood each other without need for words. But…now there was something new. No, not new; it had always been there. But now....now it was loud. And hard to ignore. It was something that Rukia couldn’t quite name, but its presence was undeniable. It wasn’t uncomfortable...but… but it was there.

“What do you say, Rukia-chan? Oh, please say you’ll be joining us?”

Isshin’s question snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Eh? I-I’m sorry?” she asked, startled.

“THE OPERA! An old buddy and colleague of mine has season tickets to the opera house here in Karakura. He’s away on a business trip so he gave me tickets to tomorrow’s show. We haven’t seen you in so long, the girls would just love if you came! SAY YOU’LL JOIN US!”

“Don’t push her, Dad!” Ichigo said irritably. He turned to Rukia but didn’t meet her gaze. “Seriously, y-you don’t have to go. It’s really boring, the last time I went I wanted to die-”

“OH, BUT THAT’S NOT TRUE,” Isshin cut off gleefully, shoving Ichigo out of the way and putting an arm around Rukia. “The last time we went, Ichigo was but a boy. Though only eight at the time, he was so moved by the performance that he wept and blubbered all night long--”

“HEY! N-NO I DIDN’T!”

“Yes, you did!” Karin called boredly from the kitchen.

Ichigo hunched up his shoulders and scowled, his ears and cheeks an angry shade of red.

“I’d be delighted to attend this...this ‘op-ohr-a’, Mr. Kurosaki!” Rukia declared, a cheerful and sparkly smile on her face. “Excellent! Come tomorrow evening at 7, and dress your very best, my dear! The opera is a most formal event,” Isshin beamed.

“Whatever. And get your arm off her!” Ichigo grumbled, yanking Rukia away from his father and up the stairs to his room.

“Ah, young love,” Isshin sighed after them. “Eager to get her to your bedroom, I see? Yes, yes, I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do, if you catch my drift--”

“SHUT UP!” Ichigo screamed over his shoulder. He hurried Rukia inside his room and slammed the door shut.

“Nice to see the family dynamic hasn’t changed,” Rukia said, a sly smile on her face. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall alongside his bed.

“1000 Yen says my dad’s got an ear pressed up to the door right now,” Ichigo replied. He sounded annoyed but there was a humorous glint in his eye. He looked up and met her gaze. They both dissolved into a quiet, gentle chuckle.

“Feel free to sit, you know,” Ichigo said, gesturing towards the bed. “I know it’s been a while but time’s never stopped you from acting like you own this place.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine here,” Rukia responded, cursing herself for answering him a little too vehemently. Ichigo looked at her questioningly, and Rukia could have sworn she saw a very, very faint blush creep on his cheeks. A moment of silence passed.

Tension. That’s what it was.

“So what is this opera thing, anyway? I just realized I agreed to something I know nothing about,” Rukia asked, eager to change the subject and genuinely curious about this “most formal event” that moved a young Ichigo to tears.

“It’s, uh, like a play. But with only singing. Really loud, annoying singing. And fancy costumes. And they usually end in tragedy.” Ichigo said, scratching the back of his head.

Her amusement at his fumbling explanation made Rukia forget her discomfort earlier. She smirked and flopped onto his bed. “Sounds like fun. So this loud, annoying play moved you to tears, eh?”

“IT DID NOT-Hmph, *ahem*, It did not move me to tears, I told you already that I found it boring. And I SAID YOU COULD SIT ON MY BED, NOT LIE ON IT!”

“Oh, Daddy, th-they’re on his bed already! They certainly are fast, aren’t they?” a muffled voice that sounded suspiciously like Yuzu’s could be heard saying from the other side of the door.

Ichigo’s left eye twitched.

He swung the door open and Isshin and Yuzu tumbled onto the floor. “SCRAM!” He roared, shaking his fist as they hurriedly fled the scene.

_____

Giant, crystal chandeliers hung over the U-shaped hall, twinkling prettily in the warm, golden light. The house was packed with many well-dressed and well-to-do people. The euphony of various conversations and chatter rang pleasantly in the air. If Ichigo had been moved to tears by the place alone, Rukia would understand; it was truly, truly beautiful. She tilted her head back, taking in the glittering chandeliers and intricate paintings of flowers and stars on the ceiling. She must have looked visibly awestruck, for she turned to her side to find Ichigo looking back at her, an odd, almost tender smile on his face. She gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs. “What? What’s with that dumb look?” She snapped.

“AGH! What the hell, Rukia?” He glared, letting out a sharp exhale before putting on another smile, this one more teasing. “N-nothing, I was just thinking...the last time I was here as a kid, I remember looking up at the paintings on the ceiling and counting all the stars as a way to pass the time. I guess I was just wondering if you were doing the same.”

Rukia blinked. It was rare for Ichigo to divulge….well, really anything about his past and his memories. To share this random little anecdote felt oddly intimate. She felt her cheeks warm slightly and turned away. “Heh, no I wasn’t counting, I was just...admiring. She looked back up and couldn’t help but laugh. “Ichigo, there are hundreds of stars, up there! Did you really count them all?” He looked up too and smiled wryly, shaking his head. “Nah, the show always started and the lights would go off before I ever finished. But...I like that I don’t know. It’s this weird, unfinished mystery that just...stays up there on the ceiling, y’know?”

His amber eyes and fiery-orange hair glowed in the warm light of the hall. He glowed. Does he even know how handsome he looks in that stupid tux? Rukia thought, torn between feeling endeared and annoyed. And spewing out weird, lovely musings like that, too. What an idiot.

She looked down at the program in her lap. In intricate, gold cursive, the words Lakmé: Opera en 3 Actes shone smack dab in the middle. “Is...is this in French?” she asked. “Yeah, but it’s okay; you see those black screens above the curtains up there? They’ll have translations…”

The lights began to dim.

Quickly, stealthily, Ichigo stole one last look at Rukia in full light. She was already a beautiful woman but tonight she practically glowed. With the help of Yuzu and Karin, she had parted her cropped hair to one side and teased it into elegant waves. She had reluctantly let them put makeup on her, too, and Ichigo had a hard time keeping his eyes away from her lips, soft and painted red like a pomegranate. She was wearing a dress that Ishida had surprised her with a few weeks ago, a wine-colored sleeveless piece that gently hugged her form and flowed past her knees. Yeah. She glowed. It was annoying.

Y’know, I bet she knows exactly how good she looks and is only pretending to be oblivious. He thought. What an idiot.

The red velvet curtains pulled back to reveal what looked like a stone courtyard on stage, adorned with all sorts of plants and exotic flowers. But the set was nothing compared to the music that emanated from the pit in front of the stage. She’d never heard anything like this. Not on the streets of Rukongai, nor in the banquets and gatherings in Seireitei. What was it Ichigo had called them? An orchestra. An orchestra, an orchestra, an orchestra. She had to remember that word. How so many voices, so many different strange and wonderful-looking instruments, could come together and create a sound so unified and sweet amazed her.

A procession of people dressed in long, unstitched garments came onto the stage, singing words Rukia could not understand. A big man, clad in a costume beard and yellow robe, opened his mouth and began to sing a solo.

Rukia froze.

It was obvious what he was doing required much skill, but….he sounded...funny? Rukia narrowed her eyes and fought a smile, trying to reason with this deep voice that shook with such a fervent vibrato.

She heard a snicker two chairs away from her, and turned to see Karin in the dim light, her face contorted humorously. Rukia was about to join her before Isshin turned to his daughter with a glare so scary and dangerous that any humor at all in both Karin and Rukia was effectively vanquished.

So entranced was she by the costumes and lights and flutes and cellos that the dark-haired shinigami found herself forgetting to glance up at the translations above the stage. She looked just enough times to gather that this was set in a temple in which rites were being performed. The ritual ended, and as smoothly as they glided in, the singers drifted back off the stage, leaving behind two women.

The women, arm in arm, walked down to the “river” on stage to gather flowers. The one dressed in red turned to her companion and began to sing:

Viens, Mallika, les lianes en fleurs

Jettent déjà leur ombre

Sur le ruisseau sacré

qui coule, calme et sombre,

Eveillé par le chant des oiseaux tapageurs.

Rukia froze once more. This time, there was no urge to laugh. Goosebumps rose on her arms. Her ears tingled. What, Rukia thought shakily. What is this?

The other, dressed in a simpler, sun-colored dress answered her friend in a voice just as haunting and sweet:

Oh! maîtresse, c'est l'heure

où je te vois sourire,

L'heure bénie où je puis lire

Dans le coeur toujours fermé

De Lakmé!

Rukia clenched her teeth, maintaining a stone-cold Kuchiki expression while her soul inside shook and quaked.

What is this?

Dôme épais le jasmin

Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin

Like flowers landing on the surface of a pond, their voices floated, glided, rippled through the hall, lighter than air.

À la rose s'assemble

The melody seemed to follow some invisible wave that drifted down, then up, then down, and down again. It was elegantly unpredictable, like the path a feather takes on the way to the ground.

Rukia’s throat caught. The swelling in her chest bewildered and almost angered her. This...this beauty was almost cruel. Her eyes felt hot. Her face remained expressionless.

Rive en fleurs, frais matin,

Sur la rive en fleurs, riant au matin,

I never did get the chance to understand what it is to live, Rukia thought. She had, in fact, died when she was only a baby.

I....could see traces of what life was in the youth and excitement of Ichigo and his friends...the sound of their laughter, their chatter about the future.

Nous appellent ensemble.

Viens, descendons ensemble.

With each rise and fall of their voices, Rukia felt as though her soul was expanding. The singers’ figures became blurry behind the tears that began to well in her eyes.

But this…this swelling in my chest, and the goosebumps on my skin. My throat...feels tight.

A tear broke free and began to trickle down her cheek.

Is this not the closest I’ve ever been to living?

Ichigo gazed steadily at the stage, letting himself float and drift with the melody. It was no wonder the Flower Duet was such a famous song, even to those unfamiliar with opera. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could and turned to check on Rukia. His jaw clenched.

Ah! glissons en suivant

Doucement glissons; De son flot charmant

She stood absolutely still, upright, her small, pale hands clenched into fists on her lap. She did not look at him. He watched with well-hidden astonishment as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She stared solemnly at the women on stage, blinking slowly. Her amethyst eyes glistened with the water and salt that filled them.

Le courant fuyant

Suivons le courant fuyant

A lump began to form in Ichigo’s throat. He turned away, back to the stage. He couldn’t put into words what she was feeling, but he felt he understood it. He didn’t want to intrude on her moment, but he also wanted to let her know that she was not alone. Even when they were worlds apart, he’d find a way to reach her. Slowly, his hand moved towards hers.

His fingertips lightly brushed her wrist, and traveled up towards the back of her hand.

Rukia kept her eyes fixed on the singers. She gave no indication that she even noticed his hand on hers. A twinge of disappointment and embarrassment stung him. I...probably ruined her moment. I shouldn’t have-

His heart stopped. Silently, suddenly, the slender, cold hand seized his own. She intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed lightly. She did not look at him.

Dans l'onde frémissante,

Dans l’onde frémissante

To this day Ichigo couldn’t say what the hell compelled him to do what he did next. Maybe it was the nearly two years of separation, or the swelling music and stupid, glittering, chandeliers messing with his head, or the way she gripped his fingers with such a quiet and loving intensity, or a mix of all of those things. Slowly, he raised her hand up, off her lap.

D'une main nonchalante,

D’une main nonchalante,

Rukia stirred, tilting her head slightly towards him. He brought her hand up to his face and slowly, gently, firmly, pressed his lips against her knuckles. Rukia’s eyes flashed wide open, and now she turned to look at him. Another tear rolled silently down her otherwise stoic face. Ichigo opened his eyes and looked back at her.

Dôme épais, blanc jasmin,

Sous le dôme épais, Sous le blanc jasmin,

Nothing was said, but a thousand words were exchanged between them. Ichigo lowered her hand but did not let go. They held their gaze for a moment longer, then turned their heads back towards the stage.

Nous appellent ensemble!

Ah! descendons ensemble!

#ichiruki #lakme #sooo sappy hehe opera makes me WEAK #im literally frasier #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #ichiruki fanfiction #deathberry

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elliethesuperfruitlover · 4 years

Note

Give us the smut please 😈

since you asked so nicely

That’s Just the Way You Make Me Feel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGRzz0oqgUE

A/N: This is going to be a Luba x reader fic. I feel like he doesn’t get a lot of attention, and he’s one of my absolute favorite characters of Robbie’s. This one is going to be really steamy and smutty, so beware of that. Enjoy!

Warnings: Warnings: (spoilers to mute if you haven’t watched it) mention of death, smut (ofc), lap dancing, grinding, oral sex (fem. receiving), making out, public sex (for a section), face sitting, biting, unprotected sex (wrap it luvs x)

You didn’t plan on visiting Luba at either of his jobs, but you got bored in the house, and why not get out, it’s 2037 for goodness sakes. You didn’t care that he was an escort, or that people sometimes reached into his pants to give him money. As long as he came back to you, and was emotionally attached to you, everything was fine. You weren’t really into having too many sexual relationships with other people. A few friends with benefits here and there, yeah, that’s fine. Luba, however, satisfied you both emotionally and sexually. He always learned new tricks from the stripper robots from the club, and at his escort shop (idfk what they’re called), he was taught how to take men’s dicks whole, and how to pleasure a woman in more than one way. Whenever the both of you were in the mood, he’d try out a couple things, and try to make you as happy as possible.

The trip to the club was a little longer than expected because the cops had been around more, and tanks were always pouring out pollution, as Naadirah’s death sparked a lot of upset, and people wanted action, so Germany took it. They protected their citizens well in the future, and wanted to make sure that their past was left there, and didn’t reoccur. You looked out of the window, and tried to keep your steamy thoughts from interrupting any conversation that you could potentially have with anyone. Luba’s a creature of movement and emotion, and he made you feel extraordinary things. Everything he did to pleasure you was out of care for you, and the way he ate you up, and kissed your thighs, just….I’m getting carried away here. You arrived at the club, in generally clubbish attire. Something that would catch attention, but not make you feel overwhelmed with what everyone saw you in. Luba would for sure notice. It was one of his floral blouses, you had it cinched at the waist, and wore black peekaboo pants, boots to complete it.

“Hey honey. How’ve you been enjoying work?” you asked Luba, sneaking up behind him from the wall he was leaning against.

“Jesus Christ! You can’t just do that to me, I could’ve been armed, or I could’ve had to take a mean piss!” he jumped, holding his hand to his exposed chest, only to break into a smile, chuckling at your antics.

“You know you love some public humiliation. It’s a kink we have yet to explore, but I’m willing to do so.” you casually muttered, kissing his shoulder.

Luba’s eyes lidded themselves with lust, then he grabbed your face, kissing you sloppily. You melted into his arms, then your hands began wondering, gently fluttering across the bulge in his low-cut pants, pinching it ever so slightly. He gasped into your touch, slipping his tongue into your mouth, yours remaining in its spot, having to fight for dominance. You let him win for the time being, resulting in grinding against the air, your hips getting tired of being in one place. Luba took a hold of your thigh, stepping forward, and grinding against your sex, holding your limb in place to get the right angle. You held onto his face, cradling it with your hand, thumb rubbing against his cheek. He pulled away just at the peak of his own orgasm, and started at you through the blue and purple lights. Luba bit his lip, then asked you to go to the back, as he had to check out, then take you home, and make love to you how you desire.

“Be back before I start humping the wall, honey.” you said, mimicking the phrase.

He shook his head, chuckling at your antics, then walked towards the back room, swaying his hips as he moved towards the door. You sat there for short of 4 minutes, and even that couldn’t keep you from touching yourself. You tried to hide behind a wall, dragging two fingers across your pussy through your pants. The hand slipped under your pants, dipping into your honey pot. Quiet, breathy moans left your mouth, and Luba came up from behind you, two hands snaking up your body, cupping your breasts.

“Let’s go. You can’t show everyone what I do to you, now can you? Only I get to see this.” he whispered, biting your ear lobe. You tilted your head into his neck, grinding against him, his head going back as well. His bulge was poorly hidden by the tight pants he sported, the very pink tip of his dick peeking from the top of them. Your nimble fingers find it, swiping your thumb over the tip. Luba’s eyes drifted to yours, and they begged you to touch him more, kiss him more, make him feel the way he wants. You turned around, biting into his neck, your hand wrapping around his cock, jacking him off. He moaned at your actions, his hands squeezing against your hips.

“No, I-. Want to do this at home.” he struggles out, his throat dry, voice deepening. You obliged, hand coming from his pants, and you licked your hand in front of him, eyes making full contact. Luba rushed forward and grabbed a hold of your face, his lips smashing against yours. You both moaned into the kiss, and Luba picked you up, pushing you against a wall, grinding his hard on against your clothed slit. Few people in the club noticed the two of you, even though it was quite packed that night. Soon enough, your slick began to soak through your panties, coming through your pants. Luba noticed, and stuck two fingers down your panties, circling your clit, coating themselves in you. He bit your lip, and carried you the rest of the way to the taxi he ordered. He let you go when you reached the car, and the both of your stared deeply at each other the entire ride.

As the car pulled into the driveway, and Luba paid the driver, you unbuckled your bra, heading towards the door. You took it off, and unlocked the door, throwing it across the living room. Luba followed you, and kissed you from behind, breathing your scent.

“Grab a chair, sit in the middle of the room. I’ll be right back.” he whispered into your ear sultrily. You shuddered at his words, but followed his orders. You thought of taking your shoes off, but were interrupted by his voice at the end of the hallway.

“I got that, don’t you worry. Just...relax. I’ll take good, good care of you.” he said, running his hands down your thighs, then taking your boots and socks off, kissing up the length of both of your legs, still clothed. His eyes followed yours, then they turned up, locking on your chest, where your nipples were erect under the translucent shirt. He reached up, and unbuttoned your shirt, exposing the collection of skin and fat on your chest. He fondled them, and brushed his long finger along the side of your body. Goosebumps were patterned along his touch, and you shivered at his eyes, almost completely black with lust.

Luba brought his finger to his lips, letting it slip into his mouth, wrapping his plump lips around it. He licked along it, then dragged it down his body, across his smooth chest. It stopped at his waistband, where the fewest of stray pubes lay, and dipped into his pants. He took a sharp inhale of breath, and moaned at the feeling. You saw his hand move along his shaft, making slow strokes. He made very deliberate movements, then stopped all of a sudden. His lip was caught between his teeth, and the hand emerged, empty. He was stopping himself from cumming, and was really struggling. A thing Luba liked is teasing, but never on himself. It was always you being teased. And tonight is no different. He shed you of your pants, and you lifted your hips from the chair, revealing your lace underwear, and when you sat back down, you felt your wetness on the chair. You could feel his breath hitch, and soon enough, he stood up, and led his hips to yours. He walked over the vintage record player on the television stand. His ass stuck out as he put a vinyl on, and turned around just as it started.

Baby, don’t make me spell it out for ya’

All of the feelings that I’ve got for ya’

His vest and tie came right off, and Luba threw them in a random direction, to be picked up the next morning….or afternoon if you’re lucky. He walked over to you, and sat on your lap. His feet supported his own weight, on both sides of the chair they lay.

Oh. That’s where this is going.

He began grinding against you, his pants doing nothing to smother his hardened length. Every beat was another roll of his hips, forcing a moan from you, as his head turned with every touch you put on him. His hands dug into the wood of the chair, and his voice strained as the pressure kept building up. Your fingers played along his chest, stopping here and there to drop a few kisses, or pinch one of his nipples.

It’s like I’m powerful with a little bit of tender

An emotional sexual bender

He humped your body, his face contorting, just like the beat did. His hips flexed, and the smoothness of his back never felt so good. Everything just felt so beautiful, and real, and intimate between you two. You’d been waiting on him to finally show some of his skills to you, but you never thought you’d be this close. Every grind against sex felt like pure paradise. His eyes were constantly closed, and only opened when a particular angle hit a little harder than intended.

Mess me up, yeah no one does it better

There’s nothin’ better

He always treated you like you deserved. Even when he came home from a rough night of clients, he always made sure that you were the top priority. If your feet were bothering you from the ballet shoes, he’d rub them, and offer to carry you to bed. If you were cramping, he’d fix you tea, and treat you so well. You knew that it was a bi-product of Naadirah. He loved her so much, and did the things he did, and still does for her. She was somewhat blind in what he did, and he’s hurt. Every now and then he gets really upset about it, he can’t treat clients well enough, when he has a shift at the club, his face is glossed over with happiness. That’s where you stepped in, and told him to let it out. Nobody deserves to be treated that way. He did all that, and for what? Nothing? And I know you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but she was a bit of a bitch now. He always put on this chipper exterior, and you were happy that today was a really good day. So good that-

“Ah, yes! Right there.” he moans, as you realize that as you’ve been thinking, your hand drifted down to stroke him. Lu was very close to cumming, but you decided not to allow it.

You stopped your actions, and humped him still, not giving him a complete break. He was whimpering against your touch, and felt bad that you were teasing him so. Though, not bad enough to stop. Every little grunt, and breathless pant that fell from those perfect lips made you want to burst, but not quite. He looked deep into your eyes, then put his hand out, sweaty and clammy, covered in marks from the wooden chair. You grabbed his hand, and he led you to the floor, not too far from where the chair was. He got your black panties from your body, dragging them against his face, rubbing them against his chest. The very thought made you drip straight onto the floor. They made their stop at his pants, where he stuffed them into his pants, lightly jacking his cock off with the fabric. The wetness from the fabric, and the scratchiness of it were pure heaven for him, but you, as always, were the top priority. He kissed your lips, pulling away with a loud smack. He nibbled, then bit along your neck, and moaned when his bulge brushed right up against your knee, in the best of ways. He licked the rest of the way down, and, though you weren’t clean shaven in the least, he ate you right up. Little kitten licks were rewarded to your clitoris, the wet sound resonating in the hot air.

“Look at me real quick.” he asked, your wetness coating his chin.

You did so, and a hand made its way to Luba’s face, and a middle finger made its way into his mouth, making you moan in earnest, and it found its destination quite quickly. Your wet, warm, and inviting pussy. Your mouth opened from the intrusion, and Luba began praising you quietly, with little “good girl” and every now and then “oh, look at you, so wet for me.” He was doing a good job of making you almost cum, but at the last moment, his finger would switch and you felt his lips form into a smirk against your sex.

“Got an idea.” you mustered out, and he pulled away, his chin dripping juice onto the floor, just as you were.

He sat on his haunches, waiting for your action. You motioned for him to lie down, and he did as you asked. His eyes glimmered with the light, and you moved your body to go on top of his face. You heard a short “oh, Gott, yes.” , and his hands went to your bottom to try to keep you in place. Hips lowered onto faces, and your mouth formed an o, and your hands were beside his head, and your thighs were putting pressure on his face. He moaned at your antics, and that urged you to almost scream from the sensation. You began to slowly move against him, the cold tip of his nose touching your pubic mound, right before the main action. His tongue began moving in turn with our hips, and suddenly a spot was hit. Your mouth opened in ecstasy, and backs arched.

That’s just the way you make me feel.

So real, so good, so fuckin’ real

He fucked you so good, all the time. His tongue was just perfect for your pussy, and he attacked it with such precision.

That’s just the way you make me feel.

You rode Luba’s face through your orgasm, and your thighs let up on his head. Underneath all that action, Luba caught your release in his mouth, opening it, just where you can see it. You urged him to swallow, and he did, or so you thought. Your lips met his after your hips shifted on top of his, and some of the remaining liquid made its way into your mouth, and you moaned at the feeling. Luba motioned for you to stand up, and you did, almost slipping on your slick. He giggled a little, then sat himself down on the chair, still wet. You sat on top of his cock very slowly, letting yourself sink down inch by long inch. The veins on his cock pulsed into your walls, and you were almost ahegao-ing from the sensation. You sank down on his dick, and your ass was stuck out from the angle. Luba groaned at you, smiling back at you. Your hands were on his shoulders, and you were just aching to start moving. His hands resting on your back, ready to guide you. Your body sank down on him, and your pussy stretched to accommodate the length. It felt so good, and you let him know. The little gasps that left your body were far and flung between. His mouth was kissing along your collarbone and clavicle, giving them special attention.

Soon enough, he began thrusting back into you, slowly at first. His feet were angled on the floor, his toes curling when certain angles were hit. You were thriving in his touch, and he in yours. The two of you made love so beautifully that night, nothing was as precious, and as clear cut. You two were so enthralled with each other, every insertion, grab of skin, kiss. Every little exchange between thrusts that could be shared eye contact, or even nose kisses between each other. It was all so strong and sensitive. Nothing beat that feeling of pure togetherness. It was so close, and hot. You could just cream around him from the sheer feeling of his head touching the spot right where your womb began. The pace slowly began to quicken between the two of you, and Luba’s balls slapped between your body, and your breasts bounced up and down from the gravity of the situation. You ground into him, and he grabbed you with his entire form, and moaned against your neck, and out of nowhere, there was a very loud crack.

That's just the way that I feel now, baby

Good God! I can't help it! Agh!

That's just the way that I feel, yeah

Please! I can't help it

“Oh fuck! Right there baby! I-I’m cumming!” he says, ignoring the fact that the two of you were on the ground, fucking the hardest in forever.

You followed suit, squeezing around his cock, and cumming on his length. You moaned into the open air, and wrapped your arms around his back, slowly grinding to relieve yourself. He kissed down your neck to calm you down and picked the both of you up from the remains of the poor chair. He fixed the both of you a hot bath, and you cleaned him up, trying to cover up the hickies the best you could. You dressed him, as well as yourself. You ate a bowl of Frosted Flakes, and attempted to super-glue the chair back together. You went back to Luba in bed, and he was close to asleep, nodding off. You kissed his shoulder, and his hands, cuddling up against him. He was blushing by the time you were done, but it all worked out in the end. Except for Naadirah of course.

Masterlist

#luba x reader #robert sheehan #robert sheehan smut #mute

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stevenbasic · 4 years

Photo

I had just started to feel a little better. Takeoff was a success and we weren’t going to die. Melissa’s right hand was still on mine, now on my left thigh, holding it there to comfort me through liftoff. But she had since turned to look out the window - and had given me the chance to ogle her huge tits in profile...an opportunity I surreptitiously took. Lord god they seemed bigger every time I saw her. This fine morning, en route down south to our conference, she looked absolutely ready to burst out of her tight white top. I’d been outright staring at her chest for nearly a minute.

"Everything looks so small from up here!" she marveled, gazing down at the disappearing cityscape as we climbed into the clouds. Christ, her breasts were enormous. “I like small things, don’t you?” she asked as she casually arched her back, completely unaware that I was still absolutely goggling in wonderment at the bulge and projection of her giant breasts.

Small? I mused, lost in the reverie of this private, furtive moment I was sharing with her knockers. There is -nothing- small about this overgrown girl…

Wait. Had she asked me a question?

“Uhhh…” I began. If she was expecting a reply, it didn’t seem to trouble her.

“Everything is cuter when it’s smaller, right?” she quipped, still distracted by the view out the window as I continued to be captured by the view of her mind-blowing torso, “Like, kittens. Cats are cuter when they’re smaller, right? Just like little cars...super cute. Little tiny purses, carrots, brilliant little doctors...cute, cute, cute when they’re smaller.”

Wait what?

I tore my eyes off her chest just in time to avoid being caught as she quickly turned back to me, smiling with mischief. Jesus! Obviously she saw a reaction on my face that gave her pause.

“Oh, I’m sorry…!” she said with sudden concern, eyes going wide, “We really haven’t been able to talk, since Friday...are you okay?”

“Wh-what...what do you mean?”

“The...the ‘little doctor’ comment,” she began to explain with chagrin, “I was just trying to be funny…”

“Yeah thanks for reminding me,” I said, chuckling, recovering. It may sound weird but over the past couple days, since the ignominious measurement fiasco at the department store, I’d actually come to a certain peace about my height,or new lack thereof. I was not the (almost) 5’11” I thought I was. Somehow, since I last remember my height having been measured, I’d lost two inches...at least.

If I knew then, sitting in the plane, what I know now I would be mourning much more than a lost couple inches. Any sane person - especially a medical professional like myself - wouldn’t be going to a conference with their busty co-worker: they’d be rushing to get investigative testing. But the idea, the fact that I was 5’8” was beginning to bother me less. I was actually a little proud of myself, being so relaxed about it….what’s the big deal, right? I now realize, though, that my psyche had already been deeply changed, an early part of this whole process that’s brought me..here, to where I’m speaking to you today. I was just none the wiser.

“Really, everything’s fine, it’s normal,” I assured Melissa, fiddling with my seat belt and convincing myself I sounded brave and unperturbed, “these things happen when one gets older.”

“Omigod you are not old,” she howled, slapping my shoulder with her free hand, “you’re only…” Her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Uh…”

“...more than ten years older than you,” I said wryly.

Is there a reason she’s still holding my hand?

She smiled, eyes glittering, inspecting me. “Yes, but…” she said, “Three inches though?? That’s...weird, right?”

”Well, sure. But the last time I measured my own height was probably, like, many years ago,” I said, hoping I was sounding calm, “so it’s happened slowly, over like five or ten y-“

“I dunno,” she interrupted, “I feel like you've definitely shr...gotten shorter just since I’ve known you.” She looked me over, up and down. “But maybe it’s more...me.”

”What do you mean?” I asked, as I noticed her adjust her bra over her left shoulder and then turn to look again, wistfully, out the window.

“Oh, nothing…” she replied, “It’s just that with this new little growth spurt I’m having, maybe my perspective is…”

Just then, the tall, blond flight attendant showed up aside me. “You two look like you need some champagne,” she offered, lowering a tray of well-filled flutes down between us.

“Oooo yes!” Melissa squealed as she turned back, smiling, to take a drink, releasing my hand. I took a glass as well.

After the stewardess had moved on, we clinked.

“Cheers,” Melissa giggled.

After a brief pause, and a sip, she continued. “But, really, what about you, Dr. J?” Melissa asked, as she pivoted a bit more at the waist towards me, “You seemed scared the other day, when she told you that you were 5'8”. How are you feeling?”

She really wanted to talk about this, huh? ”Oh, u-uh...heheh..” I began, “I don’t know about “scared…” My mouth suddenly dry, I took another swig. “I mean, nobody liked to be told they’re sh-shorter than they think they are…”

“Especially a guy, right?” she added earnestly, ”it must be sort of...emasculating.” She bit her lower lip, as if eager for my answer.

“Well, I was never a big macho guy so…” My voice trailed off, as I looked at Melissa. I was able to keep eye contact, for a bit, but I was slowly being struck by, well, her size. The physicality of it. She was taller than me, probably stronger than me, just all-around bigger than me. And suddenly, in that moment, I was becoming overwhelmed by the feeling of being...lesser.

I glanced down, at my drink, into my lap.

"Hey, c’mon, you never know,” she said, easily reading my reaction, “there may be some positives! Even if you do get even smaller.” She leaned into me, playfully bumping me with her right shoulder, giggling.

“Positives?” I asked.

"Yes!” she continued, eagerly, “You heard the sales lady the other day. Girls all want shorter boys. It’s true, totally. It’s fashionable to be with a smaller guy, to be seen as a couple like that. People love size in women these days…” Almost imperceptibly, Melissa straightened in her seat. “That’s why you see so many women in the gym, getting big, bulking up,” she explained, “They want their big butts, big backs and shoulders and arms. It’s all to make their man look small.”

It’s funny. I had heard this, other places. Read about it. “a-and...you?” I asked, hating immediately the prurient interest in my voice, “y-you go to the gym a lot?”

At that she laughed, and turned to look out the window again. I watched as, through her tight, long sleeve tee, her back muscles bulged, swelling against her top. I took the second to appreciate her muscularity, the dramatic “V” of her torso, fit shoulders tapering down to tiny waist. As I watched, her lats flexed, bulging further. It was subtle but also dramatic, this display of their obvious strength, more bulk than you might immediately think, looking at her. She was by no means “thick”; the musculature looked absolutely feminine and alluring. But was she doing it on purpose? Showing off a little?

“I do go to the gym a lot,” she mused, turning back towards me, “I’m lucky, I get big quick.”

“Y-you do, huh?” I answered dumbly.

“Yeah, I do,” she continued, “It’s all genetics. My father was some sort of athlete, I guess. When I was modelling I had to be careful. I was told I could be a bodybuilder. But...” At that, for some reason, she stopped herself. Almost like she was about to say too much. “But now I don’t have to worry.”

Ashamed at myself, I wanted to hear more...even at the risk of sounding too engrossed. “Y-you like that look?” I asked, “Getting...bigger?”

“I dunno,” she replied with a disarming smile, casually shrugging, “But like I said, It’s totally in, that look, big girls. My gym is almost all women now, most are the same. You don’t see guys as much.”

“R-really?”

“MMhm,” she answered, sipping her champagne, “Know why? It’s the thing, little skinny guys. No one wants a meathead these days. So, look on the bright side: if you’re smaller, three inches, you’re just getting cuter. More attractive.”

“Oh stop it I’m married,” I reminded her, feeling myself both blush and recoil. My skin crawled, thinking of Sheryl, of where things had gotten between us.

“Well, she may not say it but I’m sure Sheryl likes it,” Melissa countered, “When they go out with their guy every girl wants to look fashionable.”

What was she doing? Painting a picture for me where my wife and I strolled into a restaurant, Sheryl towering over me by six inches with a huge smile on her face? Melissa knew how chilly things were in my marriage. What was she saying?

“And, anyway…” she continued, “maybe you’d like it, too, if you were a little smaller. If it just means everything else, everyone else looks bigger...”

“Wh-what?”

“C’mon...” she said, as a subtle waft of her perfume found its way up into me. Her voice had dropped. I noticed now that we had leaned in already, closer to one another like conspirators, and this just drew me in closer. “I mean, there are more and more guys on the internet every day who are really into that sorta thing. Guys being smaller....smaller than their girlfriend, smaller than their wife. Smaller than women in general.” She took another sip of her drink, waited for me to follow and take a sip of mine. “Some guys want to be a lot smaller than women,” she continued, cryptically, “It’s crazy..."

She looked at me. Raised her eyebrows. Regarded me.

“R-really..?”

"Yeah…” she replied, “I get messages you wouldn't believe..."

================================

Agh, okay. Finally. Thanks again everyone for your patience. This one was hard fought, and I’m afraid through all this they’ll still be slow to come. But hope you all enjoy-

#Growing Into the Job

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purplehairedwonder · 3 years

Text

Inside a Broken Dream Chapter 3

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen, briefest hint of Lawlu that you can ignore Words: 3325 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Penguin, Jean Bart, Donquixote Doflamingo, Smoker, Tashigi Note: Story title comes from the Vertical Horizon song “Shackled.” Character and relationship tags reflect the current chapter. Obviously this is canon-divergent ;)

Summary: Two years after Wano, peace on the Grand Line is fragile. Trafalgar Law and the Heart Pirates are doing their best to help maintain the peace, but the return of a figure from Law’s past might shatter the balance of power entirely.

Previous chapters: 1 | 2

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

“White Chase-ya?”

Smoker’s eyes flicked in Law’s direction, and his lips thinned into a line. “Law.”

Law frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Smoker grimaced and leaned back against the wall of his cell. The Seastone shackles around his wrists clanked with his movements. “Somehow, I keep getting caught up in your shit with Joker.”

Law snorted despite himself. He supposed it was a bit of déjà vu, calling back to being locked up on Punk Hazard. Too bad Law was restrained with actual Seastone this time.

Penguin was looking between Law and Smoker, confused, but he clearly knew he wouldn’t get an explanation so instead asked, “Did Akainu really let Doflamingo out of Impel Down and give him a ship to go after Captain?”

Smoker grunted. “Is that what he said?”

Jean Bart nodded. “He also said he wasn’t interested in running errands for Akainu.”

“That much is true, anyway,” Smoker replied. His tone made it eminently clear that he was unhappy to be having this conversation with three pirates—but he answered anyway.

“What do you mean?”

“Sakazuki did want to go after Law,” he said, nodding in Law’s direction. “And after Dressrosa, he thought he could use Doflamingo to do it.”

Had Law had the energy, he would have straightened at that. As it was, he narrowed his eyes. “What does he know about Dressrosa?”

Law knew Penguin and Jean Bart were watching him—he’d been intentionally vague about what had gone on there and why, though Penguin knew far more than most of the Heart Pirates about Law’s history with the former Warlord, and he’d rarely mentioned it since. At the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The last thing he wanted was his history with Doflamingo to become common knowledge. Sengoku knew because of his connection to Cora-san, but Law got the impression the man was content in his retirement to let things lie in his adopted son’s memory. Akainu, though… The less that son of a bitch knew about Law, the better.

Smoker appraised him from his cell before speaking. “Whatever Fujitora reported, I assume.”

Of course. Though he wouldn’t know the details of the backstory, Fujitora had witnessed enough to know there was a history there—one that was intensely personal on both sides. That could have been enough for Akainu.

Law let out a breath. “Right.”

“Captain?” Penguin asked quietly, but Law shook his head. Penguin frowned but nodded.

“Why the sudden interest in the Captain?” Jean Bart asked. “He’s been an Emperor for two years now.”

Smoker shifted, seemingly looking for a more comfortable position. “It’s not sudden. Sakazuki’s had it in for you since you saved Straw Hat Luffy at Marineford,” he replied, addressing Law directly. “He took that as a personal insult. And then you pulled that stunt to become a Warlord and made an alliance with the rubber idiot before proceeding to completely upend the status quo on the Grand Line.” He raised an eyebrow. “Need I go on?”

“I broke the gears,” Law had said when he’d destroyed the SAD production on Punk Hazard. And the effects had certainly avalanched after that, though Law hadn’t necessarily expected to see it.

“I’m sure he’s thrilled the alliance hasn’t ended either,” Law muttered.

Law had known that he was in this alliance for the long haul the morning after Doflamingo’s fall. Law had been sitting, his body broken and spirit afloat, among the drooping sunflowers as the sun rose over the toy soldier’s cabin. Luffy, who Law thought had been sleeping off his injuries, had sat down next to him with a murmured “Torao” and had gently entwined their fingers. Law had leaned into him in silent response. Thank you. Why am I alive? What do I do now? all running through his mind. Luffy had tightened his grip on Law’s hand, anchoring him.

“He knew targeting you would draw Straw Hat’s attention,” Smoker confirmed. “He was counting on it.”

“Is he trying to start a war?” Penguin demanded, aghast.

“The closer Straw Hat comes to finding Laugh Tale, the more anxious he gets. He’ll take any chance to stop that from happening.” Smoker shrugged. “Though it’s moot now; Doflamingo screwed Sakazuki over.”

“Which brings us back to the Captain’s original question: How do you figure into this, Smoker?” Jean Bart asked, crossing his arms. Law belatedly noticed that Jean Bart had shackles around his wrists as well, though they were of the regular sort since he wasn’t a Fruit user. A quick glance confirmed Penguin did too.

“I was assigned to lead the mission. Doflamingo was chained with so much Seastone I could barely get near him, and he was guarded by multiple soldiers at all times. He was supposed to be an asset, nothing more.”

Law raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “You were coming to take me on, White Chase-ya?” Their last fight hadn’t gone particularly well for Smoker, though he had saved Law’s life by recovering his heart from Vergo. Law would always hate the Marines after what had happened to Flevance, but Smoker was one he grudgingly respected. Still. “Should I be offended that I didn’t even warrant an admiral’s attention?”

Smoker replied with an unimpressed look. “The admirals have been spread thin over the last two years, and you know it.” It was true; since Doflamingo’s fall and the end of his underworld empire, the dissolution of the Warlords, and Kaido’s defeat, the admirals had had their work cut out for them keeping the peace.

“Even so, attacking an Emperor without an admiral—” Jean Bart began.

“And with a former Warlord on board,” Penguin added helpfully.

“—seems like a mission that should be led by an admiral,” Jean Bart finished.

Law found himself wondering if Akainu sent Smoker because he had history with Law… and Straw Hat-ya.

Smoker sighed. “Like I said, its moot now anyway.”

“Because Doflamingo escaped,” Law supplied.

“Once we approached your territory, he was released from the strongest Seastone restraints with the understanding he’d be shot on the spot with a Seastone bullet if he pulled anything.”

Law grimaced. Idiots.

“Oh, so it’s your fault Captain got shot,” Penguin snapped. “Always so competent, you Marines.”

Smoker startled, turning to examine Law. Law gestured weakly at his wound, his shackles clinking. “Seastone bullet lodged in my shoulder.” His lips curled. “Thanks for that.”

“That explains a lot,” Smoker mumbled before raising his voice. “You’re right.” He said it as if it took a great amount of effort to make the concession. It probably did. “He took control of the ship almost immediately. He overwhelmed us, and he forced my men to cuff me, knowing I wouldn’t fight them.” His voice tightened as he spoke, barely containing his fury at the memory.

Something was still bothering Law. “Where’s your number two? The swordswoman.”

Smoker’s expression darkened. “He’s got her on guard duty. She was watching me when he attacked you.”

That explained why Law hadn’t seen either of them earlier; Doflamingo likely hadn’t wanted to risk losing any measure of control of the situation by putting familiar faces in the battle.

“Has Doflamingo said what he wants?” Jean Bart asked after a quiet moment, eyes flicking to Law before returning to Smoker.

Smoker shook his head before landing his stare flatly on Law. “He just called it Family business.”

-----

Law jerked into full consciousness, hissing as his shoulder flared and blinking as the brig door opened and light once more flooded the dim room. After the conversation with Smoker, the four men had fallen into an uncomfortable silence. Law had felt drained—and by more than just the excessive amounts of Seastone he was being exposed to.

At some point, night had fallen—the Heart Pirates’ confrontation with Doflamingo had happened near dusk, and Law had apparently been out for several hours after that—though the darkened brig gave little indication of the time of day. Law had slumped back against the wall in the least painful position he could manage and had drifted in and out of wakefulness, familiar dreams of gunshots, black feathers, blood, and laughter never far from the back of his eyelids.

Two Marines entered the brig and stopped in front of Law’s cell. Law watched as they opened the door and stepped inside toward him. Despite the movements Doflamingo’s strings were forcing them to make, they looked back toward Smoker.

“V-vice Admiral,” the second Marine muttered. “We can’t—”

“I know,” Smoker gritted out. “Don’t blame yourselves. Focus on staying alive now to fight back later.”

“Yessir,” both men agreed before returning their attention to Law.

Law inhaled sharply and his vision spun as the Marines hauled him to his feet.

“Captain!” Penguin called as the Marines pushed Law out of his cell and toward the door. Law didn’t resist; he didn’t have the strength to with the Seastone still in his shoulder. “Where are you taking him?”

They all knew the answer to that question. “Doflamingo wants to see him,” the first Marine said in unneeded confirmation.

“It’s fine, Penguin,” Law said over his shoulder. “He wants me alive.” For how long, Law didn’t know. But he could use this chance to do some reconnaissance—anything was better than just sitting in that cell helplessly.

“But—”

“Penguin.” That was Jean Bart. Law was, not for the first time since Sabaody, thankful for the former captain’s calm and presence of mind; it had made him an instantly popular presence on the Polar Tang, and Law had always taken his counsel, when offered, seriously. “He knows.”

As the brig door swung shut, Law caught a glimpse of Penguin’s worried look and Jean Bart’s level, if somber, stare.

Law was surprised when the Marines steered him up some stairs then into a bathroom. “He told us to tell you to clean yourself up,” the second Marine said, nodding to the small bathroom. The Marines left Law alone in the bathroom, waiting outside.

For a moment, irritation at being underestimated flooded through Law’s veins, but it quickly diminished as he realized there wasn’t much he could do from here—the Seastone was suppressing his powers and draining his strength, and the small window wasn’t big enough for Law to fit through; and even if he could have fit through the window, where would he go? They were on a ship in the middle of the ocean, and Law was an anchor. Not to mention, two of Law’s men were still prisoners in the brig, and he wouldn’t leave without them.

Law took the opportunity to relieve himself then checked his pockets—an awkward task with his restraints. He sighed in relief when he found his surgical kit; the Marines must not have gone through his pockets once he was taken captive—or Doflamingo hadn’t made them do so. His mistake. With this, Law could remove the Seastone bullet from his shoulder and alleviate its worst effects. Or Penguin could. He hoped.

Returning the kit to his pocket, Law turned on the faucet and splashed some water in his face. He dared a glance into the mirror and winced. His features were (unsurprisingly) more drawn than usual, and though his navy shirt was dark enough to disguise much of the blood, there was still an obvious dark stain on the shoulder. He wet one of the towels then gently pulled the cloth of his shirt away from the skin, wincing when the dried blood caused it to stick. Once he’d separated the fabric from his skin, he took the damp towel and gently cleaned off as much of the blood as he could. It was awkward with his restricted wrists, but he managed as best he could. As the blood came away, the purpling of the skin became obvious around the bullet wound. He prodded around the wound with his fingers, grimacing at its tenderness.

There was a knock at the door. “All right, Trafalgar. Let’s go.”

With a weary sigh, Law splashed another handful of water in his face then dried off with a clean towel. He opened the door and allowed the Marines to push him forward down the hall again. He knew when to pick his battles, and this was not one of those times. Law did his best to make a mental map of the ship and number of Marines he saw, though his foggy mind wasn’t making that an easy task.

Eventually, Law was directed onto the ship’s deck. Law squinted at the morning sunlight, which was a stark contrast to the dim brig. He stumbled slightly, and the Marines shoved him forward. Law pressed his lips into a thin line but said nothing. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw he was been directed toward a small table with two chairs—one predictably occupied by Doflamingo. He was eating breakfast as Smoker’s number two was forced to stand behind him as a bodyguard. Law could practically feel the anger radiating off her, which he knew Doflamingo was basking in.

As Law approached, Doflamingo looked up and smirked. He gestured toward the empty chair across from him, and, when Law was too slow in taking it, twitched his fingers so Law’s Marine escorts pushed him down by the shoulders. Law ground his teeth against the jolt of fresh pain that radiated down his arm and through his chest but refused to give the other man the satisfaction of making a sound. Doflamingo’s smirk widened anyway. After dismissing the Marines with the wave of a hand, Doflamingo turned his full attention to Law.

“You know Captain Tashigi, don’t you, Law?” he said, nodding to the woman behind him. Her eyes flicked to Law and softened slightly before hardening again.

“We’ve met.”

“Hm. On Punk Hazard, wasn’t it?”

Doflamingo knew full well that was the case, so Law didn’t dignify the question with a response.

“Still delightful company, I see,” Doflamingo said, raising an eyebrow. “Some things never change, eh, Law?”

“My apologies,” Law drawled. “The Seastone bullet in my shoulder seems to be suppressing my manners as well as my Fruit.”

Doflamingo’s lips turned upward, apparently pleased at the response. “Fufufu. You must be hungry. Eat,” he directed, nodding toward the food on the table. No bread, Law noted idly.

Law didn’t move. Doflamingo sighed dramatically. “If I were going to kill you, Law, I wouldn’t have only shot you in the shoulder yesterday.” A twitch of the lips. “Besides, is poison really my style?”

Fine.

Still, Law raised his shackled wrists wordlessly, indicating how awkward it would be to eat with the restraints on.

Amused, Doflamingo twitched his fingers, and one of the Marine guards from earlier came forward. He brandished a key and unlocked the shackle on Law’s right wrist. Law let out a relieved breath before he could stop himself, but the relief was short-lived as he realized the Marine was locking the free shackle to the chair; Law’s left arm—the unwounded one—was essentially useless. If he was going to eat, he’d have to use his wounded arm.

Law clenched his jaw, biting down on the words he’d like to spit at the other man, as Doflamingo chuckled. “Fufufu. You knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, Law. Now eat.”

Doing his best to ignore the intent gaze of the other man, Law resorted to serving himself from the dishes closest to him so he wouldn’t need to move his arm too much. He ended up with some eggs and fruit. He blinked in surprise when another Marine poured coffee into the mug in front of him. Doing his best to control the trembling in his arm, he gripped the mug and took a tentative sip to test the heat of the drink. It was tolerable, so he took a larger sip. Blessed caffeine. It helped clear the fog in his mind the tiniest bit.

Law picked, one-handed, at the food on his plate and took sips of coffee as he waited for Doflamingo to get to whatever it was that he wanted. He’d just popped a strawberry in his mouth when the other man finally spoke.

“I told you once that I would have been happy to settle things between us over drinks,” Doflamingo said. “Do you remember?”

Law paused, then swallowed the food. He looked up at Doflamingo, who had steepled his fingers and was staring at Law over them. Despite everything that had happened—despite how much stronger Law was now—that gaze still made Law feel ten years old.

“As I recall,” Law replied coolly, “Fujitora was holding me down with his gravity force after you’d shot me with your bullet strings.” He inclined his head. “But yes, I do remember.”

“I meant it, you know. You’re Family. We all were waiting for you to return to your rightful place.”

Law snorted derisively, memories of waking up chained to the Heart Throne after being shot with lead bullets bouncing around the back of his mind. “Is that what we’re doing here? Making up for lost time?” His eyes narrowed. “It’s hard to take you seriously when—” Law found himself suddenly without words as he thought about the previous day—about finding the smoldering wreck of Shachi’s ship and fighting to stop Shachi’s internal bleeding as he operated on his friend, about that damn gun—so just gestured at his shoulder with his free hand. He could feel sharp, fiery anger coursing under his skin, but the numbing effect of the Seastone doused it almost as quickly as it came on, leaving Law feeling cold and hollow.

“You know what kind of Family we are.”

Law distantly noted the use of the present tense but didn’t dwell on it. “And that’s why I never came back.”

Doflamingo was uncharacteristically silent for several moments before he finally spoke. “There’s been something I’ve been wondering since you came to Dressrosa, Law.”

Law inclined his head, waited.

“Where were you that night? Coraz- Rosinante said you were out of the Birdcage. But you weren’t, were you?”

Law blinked, startled by the question—and by Doflamingo’s use of his brother’s name. Whatever he’d been expecting the other man to say, that wasn’t it. He couldn’t read the look on Doflamingo’s face either. Law took a breath, collecting himself—what did it matter if he told him now?

“No, I wasn’t.” He could still feel snowflakes on his eyelashes and the walls of the treasure chest pressing in on him… “Cora-san put me in one of the treasure chests.” His lips twisted into an expression he knew was ugly. “I heard everything.”

Including Doflamingo declaring Law would be taught to die for him. It had haunted Law for years that, had he not heard those words and had the Family recovered him, he probably would have died for Doflamingo. Happily. For all the hatred Law carried for the man in front of him, he’d loved him once, too. The Family had called him a traitor when he put his vengeance plan into motion, but Law had been the one betrayed on Minion Island. He still woke up shaking and nauseated from nightmares in which he performed the Eternal Youth Operation, dying with a smile on his face for the man who’d murdered his savior.

Doflamingo stared at him for a long, tense moment as though placing Law into his memories of that night. It was… disconcerting. Then he nodded. “We never checked the chests.”

“No,” Law agreed.

Silence fell once more. Doflamingo continued to study Law across the table while Law tried not to think about getting out of the chest and walking away from the Family, sobbing soundlessly until he wasn’t.

Finally, Doflamingo seemed to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking and turned back to his involuntary bodyguard. “Take him back to the brig, would you, Captain Tashigi?”

#Caitlin's fic #One Piece fanfiction #One Piece #One Piece fic #Trafalgar Law #Heart Pirates #Donquixote Doflamingo

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keeroo92 · 5 years

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How To Make A Goth Laugh (V x Reader)

Fluff alert!

Traveling with V is always interesting, but today has been especially fun. He seems cheerful, more energetic as you traverse the city. He banters with Griffon, twirling his cane and smirking that smirk of his. He has a clever quip ready for every teasing word sent his way, his wit in fine form. His pleasant mood makes you wonder what his laugh sounds like, having never heard the poet do more than chuckle under his breath.

And with that, it begins.

“Hey, V, wanna hear a joke?” you ask him with a wry smile. He gives you a curious look, clearly aware that you’re up to something.

“Go right ahead,” he answers. Now the hard part – choosing a joke!

You start with an easy one.

“What did the zero say to the eight?”

He ponders in silence for a moment, his emerald gaze thoughtful as he tries to solve the riddle. Eventually, he gives you a bemused smirk and shrugs.

“I have no idea,” he states. You carefully watch his face as you deliver the punchline, mentally crossing your fingers that this joke will tickle his fancy.

“Nice belt.”

He chuckles lightly, his lips barely twitching for an instant, much to your frustration. You hurriedly think of another, determined to hear his laughter if it takes you all day.

“Did you hear about the cheese factory that exploded in France?” you ask the tattooed poet. He shakes his head, eyes sparkling in anticipation as he waits for your delivery.

“There was nothing left but de brie,” you inform him with a smirk. You’re rewarded with a cough as he lets out a single note of humor, stubbornly withholding his laugh.

I’ve got plenty more!

“Okay, here’s a good one. A man visits his doctor and says that he keeps hallucinating that he’s a dog. The doctor says, ‘Don’t worry, come sit on the couch and we’ll figure it out,’ and the man says ‘Oh no, I couldn’t! I’m not allowed on the furniture.’”

V has to cover his mouth this time, a few amused snickers emanating from his full lips.

Time to bring out the big guns!

“Why did the chicken cross the road?” you ask him once he settles enough to answer.

“I don’t know, why?”

“To get to the idiots house. Knock knock!”

He stares at you in confusion but responds accordingly, “Who’s there?”

Gotcha!

“The chicken.”

His lips twitch as a snort leaves his throat, his eyes glittering in amusement as the full punchline hits him. He looks away for a moment to compose himself but when he looks back at you, the look of sly mirth on your face sends him over the edge and he finally laughs.

It’s not what you expected, that’s for sure. It starts low, a deep rumble in his chest that rises in pitch as he continues. He even snorts a few times, making you struggle to keep a straight face. His lips stretch widely, showing his teeth as his laughter reaches a crescendo. He can’t seem to stop, his breath coming in wheezes as his eyes tear up and he holds his stomach in amused pain.

Ok, that’s pretty adorable.

At long last, he catches his breath, though his lips still twitch in an echo of his enjoyment. You smile as his laughter fades, oddly pleased with yourself for making the man break his calm demeaner.

“What brought that on, Y/N?” he finally asks as you continue walking. You can’t help the light blush that arises at his question, embarrassment making you look at the ground as you answer.

“I realized I’d never heard you laugh, not really. I was curious what it sounded like,” you mumble. He chuckles once more, holding his cane out before you to force you to stop moving and look at him.

He gazes at you with a mixture of appreciation and humor, his eyes holding yours in a piercing stare as his lips open.

“And did you enjoy yourself?” he murmurs quietly. The tone of his voice makes your cheeks tint again, but for entirely different reasons as the reverberations of his words echo in your eardrums pleasantly. You swallow nervously and manage a small nod. Your response seems to please him even more; he raises an eyebrow and smirks deeply.

“As did I,” he purrs, “Though, I can think of even more enjoyable things for us to do together.”

Wait, what? Did he really just say that?

Your mouth pops open, eyes wide in surprise as his gaze changes to one of barely restrained hunger. You can’t help but watch as his tongue extends to lick his lips, your hormones clearly taking over as you almost whimper.

He’s probably just teasing me. Payback. He can’t possibly –

Your thoughts freeze as V closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours, his long fingers grasping your head gently like fine china. His mouth is unbelievably soft, his perfect lips like velvet. You inhale deeply through your nose as you automatically bring your hands up to rest on his slim waist, your mind still so short circuited that you can’t form a coherent thought.

He pulls back with a soft sigh, leaning his forehead against yours and staring deeply into your dilated eyes. Soft pants escape his parted lips, a minute chuckle rising from his chest.

“For example, I’ve wanted to do that for days,” he whispers, closing his eyes with a peaceful smile. A beat of silence passes as you struggle to string a few words together after his sudden kiss. By the time you speak, his breathing has returned to its normal cadence.

“What the hell took you so long?” you ask him playfully. His eyes shoot open in surprise and a slow laugh builds as his lips stretch wide to display his teeth in a true grin. Your own laughter joins in quickly as joy overwhelms you.

#fanfic #one shot #v x reader #dmc5 v #dmc5 #dmc #dmcv #my writing #fluff #humor

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insessionwitheleni · 4 years

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LESSONS LEARNT FROM HEARTBREAK:

19/06/2020

We’ve all been there… Suddenly, every lyric of every love song makes so much sense. There are couples E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E, loved up, holding hands, rubbing their happiness in your face. You have a genuine emotional meltdown over losing your phone charger. You cry hysterically when you see that person on TV that kind of looks like your ex if you squint & tilt your head ever so slightly to the left! You go out with your friends in attempt to distract yourself, but instead feel overwhelmed & dissociated. Let’s face it, going through heartache is probably not our brightest or proudest life chapters!

What happens when you come out the other side though…?

* LESSON (1) ---> RELATIONSHIPS ARE COMPLICATED!

This isn’t to say every relationship is doomed, or a constant uphill challenge. Not at all. But they are complex. Think about it. Two random people meet. Different upbringings, memories, life -experiences, views, thought processes, ages, hobbies, dislikes, coping strategies, interests, genders, fears etc etc. And a process begins, during which both parties are (usually!) on their best behaviour, show genuine interest in learning everything there is to know about the other person, whilst at the same time showing vulnerability by opening up about themselves also. If all goes well at this point, the two then mutually decide to begin intertwining their lives & building their future together. This is huge! It brings alongside it so many changes, loved ones sharing their opinions (‘You guys are great together!’ or ‘Are you sure she/he is the one for you?’), scary financial discussions, careers ending or beginning, unfortunate sudden life events, health concerns etc etc. And it never ends! But all the above are 100% worth it, because being in love & feeling happy, supported & secure is AMAZING!

I had to experience the intense pain that comes with heartbreak & make it through to the other end, to truly realise that actually, it was not my fault that my relationship didn’t work out. Sometimes two people are just too different, the timing is not right, the circumstances aren’t suitable. Your partner ending your relationship does not mean that there is something wrong with you or that you will never find love again. It means that your relationship ran its course, & it was not meant to be.

(Please note: The above thoughts are based around non-abusive relationships only.)

* LESSON (2) ---> ‘LOVE LANGUAGES’

Technically I learnt this lesson in therapy, but it was during discussing historical heartbreak. If you aren’t aware of the ‘5 Love Languages’, get googling, it is worth looking into further!

These are:

Words of Affirmation (someone expressing their love verbally)

Quality Time (spending time together)

Receiving Gifts (great or small purchases)

Acts of Service (kind day-to-day gestures)

Physical Touch (physical closeness, holding hands, hugging etc.)

According to the theory, each individual will primarily fall into one of these categories. It’s important to note also that people tend to subconsciously show love to others, in the same manner they would like to receive it.

For example, if you fall into the first category, you will find it easy to express your love to your partner via words (you will probably be the one sending cheesy lengthy texts!) If you partner also falls into that category, you will be the receiver of loving words too, therefore there will be a mutual expression of love. Great!

What happens if your partner falls into a different category though? You may only receive a brief reply, which in turn could lead to you feeling insecure, frustrated or unloved. Meanwhile, your partner, who for example may fall into the ‘Gift’ category, might be thinking ‘When was the last time I got a gift, I’m always the one treating her/him!’ In turn this could result in them feeling the same uncomfortable feelings as you.

See? I told you relationships are complicated!

* LESSON (3) ---> ‘LIFE GOES ON!’

A very vivid memory that comes to mind from the start of my heartbreak, was waking up one morning, turning on the TV, & for a few minutes feeling absolutely enraged with the cast of the ‘This Morning’ show: ‘How dare they just get on with things & act as normal when my whole life had crumbled down?!’ Writing that down, I now realise how bizarre & deranged that sounds! (I’m fine now, I promise!)

I find it quite amusing how that very same thought that made me furious, was the same thought that later set me free. Life does indeed go on. I’m sure anyone that has experienced heartbreak following any kind of loss, will understand feeling angry & sad & scared & annoyed & jealous & hopeful & hopeless, all at the same time! We make it through though. Somehow, someway… And one thing we will always be able to count on, is that life well & truly goes on!

How amazing is that?!

#lifelessons #heartbreak #talkingtherapy #counsellor #therapist #mentalhealthawareness #lovelanguages #wordsofwisdom #mentalhealth #relationships

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catsandstrawberries · 5 years

Text

Real Family: 7

Pairings: BTS x teen female reader, platonic love

Warnings: Language, neglect, descriptions of a panic attack and past child abuse

A/N: What do you guys think about this too far? Is it moving too slow too fast? I really want to know what you guys think uwu. Also, the image below is the photoshoot, its supposed to be a rainbow.....

Summary: It’s not blood that makes a family. It’s love.

Masterlist

Jungkook had brought me to the sixth floor, filled with bright lights, screens, cameras and multiple clothes hanging on racks. Multiple tables laid out in the room behind the camera, some were covered in makeup, other hairspray, hair dryers, and hairbrushes.

“Why did Bang ask me to get coffee if he doesn't even drink it?” Jungkook faltered slightly in his steps and I pretended not to notice. I knew why he had asked me or at least guessed that he wanted to talk about me to the boys without me knowing. Would Jungkook tell me the truth?

“He-e, um, just wanted to prep us on the photo shoot and he didn't want you to hear about the surprise.”

Then how come Jungkook told me about the ‘surprise’ so quickly? Instead of calling him out on his lie I just nodded along as he brought me over to the makeup station.

“(Y/N) ah, don't I look handsome?” Jin fluttered his eyes at me as his makeup stylist searched on the table for something. To be honest, Jin did look handsome. The sheen of foundation on his face made him look younger and the light contour on his cheeks and nose really brought out his features.

“(Y/N) you should be nice to Jin no one ever tells him he's handsome.” I smiled at Jimin's comment as he leaned his elbow on Jin's shoulder. Jin promptly slapped the boy on the arm,

“do you want to die?” I chuckled at Jin's comment and the glare on his face, but as soon as the laugh escaped my throat all eyes soon turned to me. Tae all of a sudden appeared behind me and I suddenly became uncomfortable with all the eyes on me.

“(Y/N) I've never heard you laugh before,” Jimin stated, eyes wide. “It's nice,” He added and for a moment I questioned if they were just saying that because personally, I believed my laugh sounded like a dying hyena. But, once I saw the complete genuine looks on their faces I couldn't help but smile.

“Ok boys let's get you changed.” The boys suddenly scrambled away from me being dragged by makeup and hair stylists to add the final touches before the shoot. An arm was wrapped around my shoulder and I winced at the sudden touch. Whoever was touching me however didn't notice. “(Y/N) I want you to be in this shoot.”

My eyes widened at Bangs words, “seriously, why?” I wasn't nearly as pretty to be in a shoot with the boys, no matter how much makeup they put on my face. Why would they put my face out there, “don't worry it's nothing serious, we just want your hair.” I raised an eyebrow at the man, nervously pulling at my red locks, “my hair?”

How long did it really take to do someone's hair? Because sitting in the hard wooden chair that made my ass ache, it felt like I had been sitting for hours. My hair wasn't even that long, it just fell below shoulder length, and the most the hairdressers had done was put a bunch of hair product in my hair then proceed to curl it. I tried not to show my impatience and instead sat quietly while Hoseok made funny faces at me while they put the finishing touches on his hair. From what Bang had told me they wouldn't be showing my face, and instead would be giving the Army a sneak peek into who I was. Which apparently was my hair. The hairdresser, a female who hasn't talked to me the whole time firmly tied a bow into my hair and gave my shoulder a pat.

“You're good to go.” At her words, I practically jumped out of my seat bounding towards the camera ready to be up and moving. I stretched my sore joints watching as the seven boys all posed together, hugging and smiling. Even the cold, heartless Yoongi had a smile on his face. Each of the boys had a different color of the rainbow, Taehyung was red, Jin orange, Jungkook yellow, Hoseok Green, Jimin blue, Yoongi Pink and Namjoon Purple. After the photo shoot, they would all scramble colors and I would be the start of the rainbow with my red hair.

“Good job boys, get changed while I take pictures of the girl.” I ignored the sting of annoyance at the photographer once he called me, ‘the girl.’ It wasn't like I had a name or anything. I walked over to the photographer and after some simple instruction like, ‘stand here,’ and ‘tilt your head,’ I prayed he was a better photographer then Lifetouch. After a few clicks and a gasp, I turned to find Bang looking on a monitor, “those look great Erik!” My cheeks suddenly got red while Yoongi and Hoseok approached the monitor, “dongsaeng these are really good.” I didn't really know why they were praising me, all I had done was stand there if anything the hairdresser should get the recognition. My eyes drifted to Yoongi who simply shrugged while glaring at the monitor. I tore my eyes from the scene when the photographer called out for Jimin, his assistants replacing the white background with an orange paper. I quickly exited knowing I wasn't needed only to be pulled in by the waist by another body,

“(Y/N) take a picture with me.” Tae pointed a phone in front of his face and did his signature V sign that I had seen so much around the office in his pictures. “Why are we taking a picture?” I averted my gaze from the camera to Tae’s fluffy pink hair and instead of answering me he shushed me and told me to just do it. Instead of arguing I pouted before turning back to the camera and smiling at the iPhone. Tae took a few pictures before lowering the screen and smiling at the images, “(Y/N) what's your Instagram, I'll tag you.” I stared at the device in his hands and back up to Taehyung, tilting my head in confusion. “Instagram? I actually don’t have a phone.” Tae whipped his head up at me but before he could say anything Erik was calling for him. “Um, hold that thought.” He raced off towards the production team while I dumbly stared at the empty space in front of me, I used to have an iPod but one of the younger girls got ahold of it and ‘accidently’ put it in the blender when Katie was making a smoothie. She got adopted the next day so I couldn't really hold a grudge against her. Once I saw the boys taking more pictures I decided we wouldn't be going anywhere soon and decided to sit at one of the couches in the corner of the room. In hindsight that may not have been the best idea since I didn't get any sleep last night, and the couch felt really comfy. Sooner than expected I was laying on the couch, thankful that it was in a section away from prying eyes and fell asleep.

My skins boiling, heating up like my blood’s a boiled toxin and my body is the cauldron. Sweat is dripping down my body and I'm overwhelmed by my dark surroundings. A ringing in my ears starts to gradually grow to a burning, merging with a primal scream that overflows my senses. The sound is urgent, desperate, a scream that only a young child could make. A scream of terror, of absolute fear, a scream that spoke ‘help me’ in bold letters that nobody cared to read. It doesn't take long for me to realize that the scream is one of my own, from my past. Images are bouncing around my sight, the banging on my door, the crying 10-year-old who hides under her bed. The shattering glass and blood dripping down my arm. I fall to my knees, covering my ears as if it could stop the sound. But I know the sound will never truly leave. Its marked into my ears like a tattoo, reminding me of who I am, what I am, and what I did.

My eyes suddenly open, and in front of me is a confused looking Jimin, head tilted to the side. I'm immediately scrambling back to the other side of the couch noticing how close he was.

“Are you ok?” I want to scream at his question, the pounding of my heart against my ribcage and the way I'm gasping for breath should prove that I'm not ok. I'm not ok.

“I'm f-fine.” I stutter, my voice is hoarse and dry. I lick my lips and suddenly I've never craved water so much in my life. Jimin's eyes widen slightly and he's tilting his head as if asking the question with his body language.

“Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes. I'm fine, sorry, I just had a weird dream.” I stuttered, shifting my gaze from Jimin to see everyone packing up, none of the other boys in sight, thank God. “What time is it?” I ask groggily, rubbing at my eyes just as the bright lights of the studio start to blind me. “It's a little past five, we were going to get some dinner soon. Are you hungry?” Jimin's voice all of a sudden is so soft as if he could tell what just happened as if he's seeing through my facade.

I hate it.

“Yeah, a little bit.” I look down at my lap then notice the blanket over me. “Namjoon Hyung brought it, you looked so cold and one of the producers had a spare. You can just leave it here someone will grab it.” I nodded then gently folded it, placing it on the couch then standing up and following Jimin towards the elevator. There's a slight sway in my step and Jimin seems to notice because suddenly an arm is around my waist stopping me from falling to the ground. “Hey, wow be careful. You just woke up maybe sit down for a moment.” I nod, half processing his words and slump in the corner of the large elevator, eyes glazing over as I begin to process the dream.

“(Y/N) we’re here.” Jimin motions towards the open doors of the elevator and I quickly stand up, walking with Jimin towards the back entrance. I don't really know where I'm going, considering this was my first time in the building and I had only entered from the front entrance. So I decided to stick close to Jimin, “will there be cameras outside?” I pouted at my own question, not feeling ready for the bright lights and loud screams. He patted my head gently, mumbling something about how he loved that I was shorter than him before clearing his throat.

“No this leads towards the private parking lot where the boys are.” He opens the door, leading to an indoor parking space. The lights giving an ominous glow and the only thought that enters my mind is how someone always dies in indoor lots during horror movies. A black limousine pulls up and the chauffeur is exiting quickly, opening the door for the two of us and I slide in, muttering a thank you. Once in the car, I find Namjoon once again furiously typing on his phone, and a giddy Jungkook practically jumping in his seat. “(Y/N), we were going to get take out from Panda Express, is that ok?” I nod, ignoring Tae whos doing a little dance in his seat, mumbling Panda Express. He must really like their food. “What do you want to order?” All of a sudden, a sense of drowsiness overtakes me and food is the last thing on my mind right now. “Um, actually I'm not that hungry, I feel really tired.” Everyone turns to me in worry, except for Yoongi, of course, whos ignoring me like usual. Jin reaches over from his seat gently touching my forehead but as soon as his fingers are touching my skin I'm flinching back, causing an awkward sound of my head hitting the seat to break the silence.

“(Y/N), we aren't going to..” Hoseok pauses as if looking for the right words and reality suddenly hits me (No pun intended.) I've been so obvious with the boys, letting them see right thru me, maybe I thought if they saw the real me they'd bring me back. Everyone eventually does. “You're safe with us, we aren't going to hit you.” I whimper at his words, and suddenly hate how I'm squished between Namjoon and Jimin, and how all of the attention was on me. I bite my lip so hard to keep tears from overflowing that the metallic taste of blood soon fills my mouth. I pray that the physical pain will somehow even out the emotional. Jungkook clears his throat, and I turn towards him. Both of his hands are behind his back and his giddy smile has morphed into a sad smile. “This probably isn't the best time, but we got you something.” He reveals a box from behind his back, with the words Apple iPhone XR on the side, and a red bow taped to the top. “You said you didn't have a phone so I thought we should get you one. You'll need it to communicate with us anyways.” I looked back in forth between the Tae and Jungkook, and suddenly tears are welling up in eyes from pure happiness. No one had ever done anything this nice for me before.

“I've never owned a phone before. Are you guys sure? It looks expensive.” It comes out automatically and I don't miss the proud smiles gracing both their features.

“Of course we're sure. It was my idea,” Tae unnecessarily adds in, causing Jungkook to give him a glare.

“Seriously Tae,” he turns back to me, “I bought the bow.” Jin suddenly surges forward in his seat,

“Hey! Who was the one who spent their money to buy her the phone? And who was the one that stopped Tae from accidentally buying her a Hello Kitty Phone? But did I take the credit? No!” Before the fight can escalate I start laughing, not just the chuckle from before but seriously laughing. I wipe my imaginary tears from my face looking at basically all of the boys, (except Yoongi who sneered at me but even his bad attitude wouldn't falter what I was about to say) “thank you so much.” I put as much genuinity as I can into the four words, not necessarily thanking them for the phone, but for the memories, they've given me. They seemed to actually like me.

How long would it take before that changed.

#BTS Family #bts series #bts x reader #Poly BTS #bts x reader poly #bts poly au #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #adoption #adopted #Teen Reader #adoptedby #adoptedbybts #btsadoption #you will be okay #you will be found

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marshmallow--3 · 5 years

Text

Imagine - Connor losing his virginity to you.

You're not sure how it came about.

One moment you're sat up in bed with your partner, Connor, settling down for the night, humming happily as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses you on the forehead; the next, he's bumping noses with you, eyes roaming over your face for a second before kissing you heatedly.

The kisses come fast, your lips lingering on each other's for a second before tilting the angle of your heads, breathing heavily through the exchange. His hands wander at your chest, unsure whether the action would be wanted or not.

Sensing his anxiety, you close the distance by arching your back into his palms, sighing at the contact and wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his dark hair. His fingers knead and squeeze experimentally, tenderly, afraid to hurt you as equally as he's afraid you'll pull away.

You start to pluck the buttons of his night shirt, pulling your lips away just long enough to remove it. He lifts your night dress over your head shortly after.

After a lingering one over of each other's bare chest, your lips crash back together, the both of you groaning more excitedly into the kiss. Guiding you flat onto the bed, he lays above you with his knee pressed between your thighs, his weight distributed on his forearms. He savours the taste of your tongue for a few more moments, before pulling apart and chuckling at your pout.

He ducks his head to the swell of your breast, his breath warming a nipple into arousal, the peak hardening under his lavished attention.

Gingerly he continues, swirling his tongue around the bud, lapping it before sucking it into his mouth, his eyes closed as he hums in appreciation at the cry you let out. His fingers make sure its twin receives some attention, before dragging his lips off with a 'pop', a string of saliva connecting his mouth and your bud, repeating the process on the other nipple.

You're getting deliciously aroused by the unexpected worship and find yourself rutting against Connor's thigh, liquid pooling in your underwear. The action doesn't go unnoticed, as he lifts up, tilts your head with two fingers before drawing out a few more kisses, showering you with unspoken praise.

Connor continues his descent, peppering kisses down your jaw, neck, collar, the valley of your breasts. Dipping his head down your abdomen, his tongue dips into your navel, drawing out an unexpected shudder from you as you hasn't realised how sensitive the spot was. You wonder briefly if he has done this before, managing to drive you into a frenzy with little guidance on the matter. Though any doubt quickly dissipates as you meet his gaze, the hesitation evident in his furrowed expression.

Noticing him hesitate as he reaches the waistband of your underwear, you position yourself up on your elbows, tense in anticipation.

"Forgive me, Y/N. I haven't... Before."

You look at him for a moment, chewing your lip until he eventually meets your gaze, the faintest tinge of blush darkening his honey cheeks.

"Do you want to?"

He nods in response, almost as though he's too embarrassed to admit it aloud.

You position his hands on top of yours, helping him pull your underwear down until a thought strikes you abruptly.

"Wait." He stops. "So have you never seen... one before?"

He shakes his head. Your lips form an 'O' shape, unsure what to feel. Insecure about your sex being the first one he'll see? What if he decides he doesn't like the look of it and is put off from being intimate for the rest of your days together? What if he doesn't like the cut of the hair down there? Should you have cleaned up first?

You're snapped out of your thoughts as he speaks your name. You let out a shuddering breath and nod, deciding that you love this man wholely and trust him enough not to judge.

Squeezing his hands, you continue pulling the underwear down, letting him take over as he reaches your knees, running the fabric down your shapely legs. You prepare yourself mentally, parting your legs and laying down, averting your gaze under the anticipated scrutiny.

Everything is swollen and a dark fleshy pink, your folds visibly wet as the moisture forms a sheen over the lips. Your clit juts out from under its hood, craving contact.

"Y/N, look at me."

You gulp and do so.

You're taken aback when you see his face is swimming with emotion. He's excited, nervous, lustful, and all in all, overwhelmed.

"Show me." You're confused, your expression clearly communicating that. "Show me how to please you."

Your heart rate doubles, racing in your chest. Is he seriously asking that? And so nonchalantly too. A coy smirk occupies your lips as you take your hand, skim it down your body and part your legs further, shifting to get comfortable.

Connor sits up between your legs, kneeling to get a good view. You roll your head back and moan, letting your fingers form a 'V' shape over your lips, rubbing them, spreading them, giving Connor a glimpse at your entrance. You rub circles on your clit, sighing and dipping your finger into your pussy, inching the pad in and out to coat your fingers with your juices before pulling up and returning to your clit.

Your hips gyrate slowly against your touch, soft babbles leaving your lips, your eyebrows creased and your cheeks tinged pink. You start to finger yourself, two fingers inside as you curl them the best you can into the right angle. You set a steady pace, juices streaming down your fingers and pooling on the bed around your bottom.

Connor's fingers trace your inner thigh and the touch is magnificent. You whimper his name, begging him to touch you in few words.

He stops your fingers and you withdraw them, trailing the sticky substance up your body as you squeeze your breast, Connor's warm hand cupping your sex while looking at you. He can't help himself leaning in for another quick kiss, muttering "beautiful" before tearing himself away, ready to start.

He slips a single finger inside first, afraid the width of his would be too much. When you don't complain, instead wiggle your hips and moan, he slips in a second, rocking back and forth until he's set up a comfortable rhythm, filling you completely before pulling out halfway.

It feels wonderful, but it's not quite right. So you direct him to the right spots.

"Con-Connor, mmh just curl your fingers a little, curl them up, just... Like... Ahhh!"

He presses up against your g-spot and raises an eyebrow, withdrawing and attempting to elicit the same reaction but missing. He thrusts his fingers all the way in and instead rotates the pads of his fingers, searching for the spot that made you cry out. You guide him as best you can, and just as you're about to ask him to stop, tell him that it's okay, he rubs against a rough patch, coaxing you into a sudden minor orgasm. Juices drench his fingers, you shudder from your head to your curled toes, your nipples achingly hard.

"D-Don't... Stop!" You barely manage to breathe out.

He continues thrusting his fingers, smiling in awe at the way your hands are grasping the bed, your body writhing, sweating under his touch, his virgin touch, playing your experienced body like an instrument from Heaven.

Licking your fingers, you start to rub your clit in time with his strokes, your voice trembling as you lose the ability to control it. You might have woken the whole Homestead by now, but you've lost the ability to care. All you want in this moment is to cum.

You jump to the plateau fairly quickly, squeezing your muscles around his fingers as you whine and voice that you're going to cum.

"Should I stop?"

"NO!" You yell, a little too firmly. "No, please don't, please..."

Per your instruction, he maintains the pace. Between his fingers rubbing you wonderfully, your own fingers rubbing your clit, your free hand tugging and twisting on a nipple, you poise yourself for a glorious orgasm. Your eyes are squeezed shut, mouth agape, gasping on air as the sounds catch in the back of your throat, finally catching up with a breathy "ahhhhh", your walls involuntarily clenching down firmly around Connor's fingers.

He's fascinated by the response, entranced; you have to tap his hand to stop, head slumped as you pant, body overstimulated.

"Was that good?"

You shoot him a glare, but your features soften when you see he's genuinely asking.

"Yes, very good, Connor."

He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek, bumping noses with you affectionately.

You're all too aware of the firm press of his erection, so you walk your fingers up the length of his cock, squeezing it and looking up at him sweetly.

"Will you make love to me, Connor?"

"If that is what you want," he breathes.

Ever the gentleman, you muse, before nodding frantically. He disposes of his own underwear and kneels on the bed, unsure of himself. You guide his body on top of yours, letting him balance his weight, rather enjoying the weight of his body over you.

His cock brushes against your entrance as you grind against one another, frantically kissing as you prepare him. Taking hold of his cock and stroking it a few times, which judging by the crease of his face he rather enjoys, you position the tip by the entrance and hold it steady. He still looks lost, so you direct him.

"Just, press your hips forward, slowly."

He nods and does just that. You let your fingers slip away as the head of his cock squeezes in just fine, moaning as it brushes against your inner walls.

You whimper Connor's name, hooking your leg over his waist as he continues pressing in slowly. One look at his face and you can tell he's in bliss. He pulls back, pushing his head back into you, clearly enjoying the sensation of your walls clenching and sucking him in.

He pushes more in, and soon enough his head presses against your cervix, his pelvis flush against yours. You shudder at how deep he is inside you, throwing your arms around his neck as you pepper his face with kisses.

His breath hitches at being fully sheathed, his eyes hooded yet still searching your expression for any sign of discomfort. A quick squeeze of his bottom before bracing his shoulders is all the confirmation he needs, withdrawing slowly and sinking his shaft back in.

God, you babble incoherently at the rhythm he sets up. It's slow, but sensual. His strokes brush up against your g-spot and your lips tremble as your nipples ache for friction. You rub your chest against his, leaving open mouthed kisses along his neck and collar bone.

"Oh, God, Connor."

"Is that good?"

You can't do anything but moan in response. You know it's not intended as dirty talk, he's simply checking you feel pleasure, but dear God do you love the words as they slip from his mouth. You want to encourage him more in future, but for now settle on reassuring him with nods, squeezing your walls around his length, making him throw his head back with a groan, his pace breaking as he snaps his hips in a little harder than intended.

You yelp, loving the new pressure. He mistakes it for pain and apologises but you quickly take his palm and press it against your face, littering it with kisses as you sigh for him to fuck you.

He repeats the motion, you yelp again, feeling the bubbling of a new orgasm in the pit of your stomach.

His new pace is ecstasy. But then he pulls himself out, kneels upright completely on the bed, grabs your ankles as he drags you closer, before swiftly penetrating you again, eliciting a groan of deep pleasure from you.

"Oh my god, Connor, fuck!"

He rocks his hips into you, firm and fast, his hands stroking your thighs and driving you into a wild frenzy. He can't get enough of how beautiful you look when you let go. Lips full, swollen, pouted. You love the sweat that drips from his forehead, the way his braids have come loose, swaying in his eyes, his hair tousled from where you've grasped it.

"I'm so close," you coo, chasing your umpteenth orgasm of the night, silently impressed that Connor is such a quick learner. He feels something is missing; remembering your positive response from earlier, he snaps his hips into yours and takes his thumb to your exposed clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.

"Fuck, Connor!"

"Good?" He repeats.

You start to think he knows it's good by this point, he's just driving you for compliments. But you're in no mind set to deprive him of said praise.

"Oh baby, it's incredible, don't stop what you're doing, god I love it."

He heeds your feedback, maintaining the speed and pressure. He soon feels you twitch around him, a long cry breaking into the night, accompanying the rhythmic banging of the headboard against the wall and the creaking of the bed. It would be quite clear to a passerby what activity the two of you are engaging in. You couldn't care less, you're in absolute euphoria.

Sobbing his name over and over as the orgasm washes through you, you open your eyes just in time to meet his, dark and cloudy, his breathing erratic as he reaches his end.

Wanting to help him, your hands reach the back of his ass, squeezing the cheeks as you tighten around him. He pulls out roughly, breaking your hands away as he jerks his cock onto your stomach. Heavy white ropes spurt out and coat your skin, mixing with the sweat as you both pant, mumbling curses as you try to catch your breath.

Opening your eyes, you see him smiling down at you, blushing - from the exertion? Or the intimacy of the act? You aren't sure, but it hardly matters. You smile back, sitting up and stroking his cheek.

"How was that?" You mumble, butterflies swarming in your tummy as he takes your hand and kisses it all over, before capturing your lips and kissing you breathless.

"Perfect. You're perfect. We're perfect. Konnorónhkhwa, I really do."

Your heart flutters at his confession, repeating the phrase. His face lights up, not just at learning you feel the same way, but at the syllables of his native language leaving your lips so perfectly.

"Konnorónhkhwa," he repeats, disheveled and grinning.

"Konnorónhkhwa."

After wiping his cum off your skin with a damp cloth, the two of you embrace under the covers, drifting off into the most satisfying slumber you could imagine. Your erotic dreams leave you well aroused when you wake in the morning, which pleases Connor to no end as he's ready for another round of fucking you.

Only this time you have a little thing to teach him, which goes by the name of '69'. He's very happy to spend his morning learning all these new things, especially since the learning comes with demonstrations, and you as his tutor.

@sassenach-on-the-rocks

@ladye11e

@iceboundstar

@katbernoulli

@assassins-imagines

#assassin's creed #imagine #smutty imagine #self ship #self shipper #self shipping #self shipping community #smut #lemon #connor x reader #connor x y/n #connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton x reader #ratonhnhaké:ton #ratonhnhaké:ton x y/n #i can't dirty talk #how do i even

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neon-junkie · 4 years

Text

A Night in Rhodes - Female Version

Summary: Kieran finally accepts your generous offer of buying him a new set of clothes, as well as helping him bathe.

Pairing: Kieran Duffy x f!Reader

Word Count: 3353

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Bath, Bathing, Rhodes, Drinking, Whiskey, Friends to lovers, First time, Bath sex, Vaginal sex, Smut, Making out, Passionate sex.

Notes: I’ve never came across a bathing Kieran fic before?? It's canon he's stinky but damn, why ain't y'all helping him wash?! This is part two of a lil Kieran series, though you don't have to read the other fic to read this one. If you want to, the fics HERE.

MALE VERSION | Read on AO3