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#but her face still lights up when i get her a pin for her
moodriingz · 2 days
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Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes
Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?
Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc
Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 
Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx
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“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 
Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 
Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 
A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.
“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.
“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.
“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.
“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.
“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.
“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.
“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”
“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.
“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.
“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”
“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.
The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.
“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.
“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.
“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.
“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.
“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”
“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.
“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.
Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.
“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 
You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.
You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 
Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.
“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.
Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.
“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.
“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.
“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”
“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”
“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 
“No he’s not, why would you say that?”
“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 
You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.
You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.
He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.
“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.
“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.
“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.
“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 
The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.
Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.
“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”
When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.
“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.
“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.
“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.
“You what? You move fast, man.”
“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”
“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”
The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 
Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.
“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”
“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.
“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.
“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”
“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 
You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.
“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.
“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 
“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.
“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.
“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.
“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”
“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.
You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 
Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.
“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.
“Why would they do that?”
“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.
“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.
“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”
“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.
You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.
Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 
“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.
“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.
Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.
You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 
Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.
There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.
Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.
Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.
“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.
“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”
“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.
“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.
Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.
Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 
Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 
He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.
“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.
“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.
“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.
“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.
“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.
“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.
You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 
Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.
“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.
“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.
“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.
The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.
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bamsara · 1 year
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being an adult means we can buy or make as much self-indulgent shit (as we can afford) and unironically have trinkets of our fave things cause our teen years was bullied for liking things and hiding/denying we were ever neurodivergent to the point of suicide. sucks for anyone that thinks its weird cringe but I'm going to try and allow myself to love myself in little ways now
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rinhaler · 5 months
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step brother sukuna forcefully taking his stepsister's virginity <3 (with size difference)
sukuna has got me in the biggest chokehold and this weeks dub has not helped in the least long live ray chase
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, noncon, stepcest, creampie, use of 'good girl', virginity loss, vaginal sex, hair pulling, degradation, spanking, noncon photography.
words: 1.3k
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“S-Sukuna?” you wake up, eyes fuzzy and the darkness not helping matters as you try and make out the shape of your step-brother in your doorway. He could be anyone, really, but the size of his silhouette gives him away. You roll over to check the time on your phone, grunting with displeasure when you see it’s only 3am.
He comes inside, stealthily, and he reeks of alcohol. You can smell him from your bed. And you feel blinded when he turns on the light, your retinas blown to hell as you try and adjust to the brightness.
You yelp as he sits on the mattress, and you sit up quickly.
“You’re a good girl,” he tells you, voice slurring slightly as he speaks. “Staying home tonight, good… good girl.”
You aren’t sure what to say, though you begin to worry he might vomit on your carpet. You hasten out of bed to grab the bin in the corner of your room, placing it between his legs. And he laughs at that, it’s just so… you.
“Some… whore… I don’t remember her name,” he sniffs, looking down at the bin before his red eyes hone in on you. “She was all over me tonight. But I pushed her away. Y’know why?”
“W-Why…” you ask, cautiously, your inner monologue telling you this is leading somewhere bad. You want to run, but you feel like your legs at being weighed down to your mattress.
“I thought, why fuck her? I don’t care about her. She’s easy. But you,” he continues. He kicks the bin away and he climbs onto your bed, crawling closer to you on all fours like a predator cornering it’s. prey. You try to escape, still weighed down with fear. But you could only get so far anyway. Your back meets with the headboard, and you know you’re trapped. “My sweet little sister. Are you sweet? Maybe you’re a whore like her.”
“Sukuna, p-please, I’ve never… I’ve never—”
“You’re real sweet.” he grins, pulling you against him until your noses touch. “Should have known you were a virgin. I hear you when you touch yourself sometimes, you never last long. You’ll prob’ly cum on my cock the minute I put it in.” he sneers, and in your panic he manages to flip you onto your stomach with ease.
“N-No, please, I don’t— you’re my b-brother!” you object, body freezing and turning limp as you realise you’re powerless to his advances. He doesn’t bother undressing you, he just pins your wrists above your head with one large palm. “S-Sukuna?”
“I’m your big brother, and I should be the first person to feel your cunt wrapped around my cock.” he answers you, unzipping his trousers and freeing his cock just enough to use against you. He moves your pyjama shorts into the crease of your thigh, and he can’t help but ogle your sopping flesh. “You’re wet, little girl. And no panties. You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did all of this for me… how thoughtful.”
You cry, silently, as you realise there’s nothing you can say to stop this. He drags his thick cockhead up and down your folds before he practically stabs it into your entrance. You scream, but he yanks your hair and forces your face down into the pillows to silence you.
“Shut the fuck up.” he tells you. “You want this, I know you do.” he lies, though you don’t know if it’s for your benefit or his own. Each drag and rut into your heat is torture. It’s slow, tormenting, until he finds a steady rhythm against your resisting walls.
“Ah, ah!” you moan, your voice finally free as he gives you the chance to breathe. He snarls as he hears you, moaning like a slut as he defiles your virgin interior.
“Knew you’d like it, slut.” he laughs, picking up the pace as your needy whining encourages him. He lets your hands go, knowing you’ve given up on fighting him. His hands knead into the flesh of your ass, spanking you on occasion and forcing you to jolt back against him. He pulls your hair until your back is curved into an almost agonising arch.
“S-Sukuna! H-Hurts! Hurts s’much!”
“Is that why you’re moaning like a bitch in heat for me, hah?” he chides, spanking your ass as he continues bullying his cock into you. “Ya getting tighter around me, sister. Naughty girl…” he spanks you again and you can’t help but preen for him. You fucking hate yourself and you hate him for doing this to you.
You just can’t deny how good it feels.
“Y-You’ve always been so good,” he pants, stuttering slightly as he feels himself teetering on the edge of release. He grabs a fistful of your ass again and you can already feel how red and bruised it’s becoming. And you yelp as he inflicts a particular agonising spank onto your rear. “Tell me you love me.” he groans in your ear.
“I- I love you,” you don’t even hesitate, because you do. He’s your big brother, after all. How could you not love him, even in spite of this? “So good t’me, Sukuna, always s-so good.”
His eyes roll over white as he hears your words, it took all of his self-control to not cum in that instant. “Aren’t you p-recious,” he struggles, both of his hands dig into the fat of your hips, now. Your body collapsing forwards as he makes no effort to help you keep upright. It still hurts, but it’s an agony you’re willing to withstand for him. “Gonna be the first person to cum in this virgin cunt,” he grins, he wraps his arms around your waist as if he’s hugging you. Though you come to realise he’s just preventing any escape attempts you might make.
“No! Sukuna, n-no! You can’t.”
“Yeah, I can. ‘n you’re gonna let me because you’re a good girl,” he tells you, whispering directly into your ear as he feels his balls begin to tighten. “Only big brother’s get to cum here, got it? This little pussy was made for my cum.”
“N-N— ah! Hnng, fu-uck! Fuck!“ you moan, and Sukuna has lost any interest in forcing you to keep quiet. The damage is done, now. Even if your parents find out, it’s not like they can undo his handiwork, gifting his little sister with a pretty creampie.
He fucks into you until he blows his load. Your walls fill with white and you shudder from the contrast of your freezing body being stuffed full of his creamy white cum. He fucks it into you, deeply. And you don’t have the energy to object.
When he’s through, he pushes you off his length and you melt into a puddle on the mattress below. You feel your knee being forcibly bent in a bid to spread your legs open. Your pussy lips open deliciously and his sperm drips from your hole and down your little slit.
“Don’t move.” he tells you.
You couldn’t even if you wanted to.
He pulls his phone from his back pocket, taking a series of photos of your lifeless form and drippy cunt. He smirks as he sifts through them all.
He’s sure he’ll find one that will make the perfect screensaver.
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© 2023 rinhaler
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confessedlyfannish · 7 months
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DP x DC Writing Prompt #5
Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.
After a moment, the door opens.
"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.
"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.
"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."
Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.
"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"
"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.
For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.
Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.
Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"
"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.
"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.
"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.
"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.
"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.
"He did," Jazz says.
Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.
Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.
A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.
This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.
Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.
In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.
"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.
Damian stops dead in his tracks.
"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.
Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.
"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.
Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"
Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.
"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.
"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.
Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.
"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.
"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.
Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.
Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.
Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.
They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.
"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.
"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.
Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."
"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."
"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.
"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."
Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.
"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"
"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.
"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."
"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."
"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."
Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.
"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."
Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.
Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.
Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.
Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.
A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.
His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.
"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"
"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.
He never stopped practicing, after all.
"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."
"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."
Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.
"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.
"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."
"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."
Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.
"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."
"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."
"Mr. Wayne-"
"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."
Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."
"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."
For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.
"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."
"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.
He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.
Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."
Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."
Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."
"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."
Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."
"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."
"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.
"Even then."
Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.
"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.
"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.
But for his brother, Danny will wake up.
"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."
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caxde · 1 month
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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader
summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)
warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3
It was warm outside. 
Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping. 
You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer. 
You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve. 
You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door. 
You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could. 
“Hi.” 
It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes. 
“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out. 
She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded. 
“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her. 
You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun. 
“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you. 
“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you. 
“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers. 
But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty. 
pretty, pretty, pretty. 
Your cheeks become warmer, pinker. 
As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said. 
He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms. 
He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips. 
You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him. 
“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner. 
“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider. 
If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close. 
He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet. 
He wasn’t used to this though. 
A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom. 
“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms. 
Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment. 
The thought made him smile to himself.
“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction. 
He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile. 
Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him. 
But you didn’t. 
Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met. 
“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean. 
“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours. 
“That’s us.” 
“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple. 
“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…” 
He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back. 
You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened. 
You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind. 
It felt as if you were finally on the right path. 
-
“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window. 
She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon. 
“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa. 
He could scream out of excitement once she finally did. 
“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door. 
She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you. 
Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him. 
“Once I get back from work, deal?” 
Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up. 
He enjoyed this little moment. 
Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of. 
Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment. 
“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her. 
“She did.” 
“Who?” 
“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window. 
“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning. 
“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard. 
“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy. 
“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you. 
“Okay bug, see you in a bit?” 
“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss. 
“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him. 
“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded. 
And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home. 
You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally. 
“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him. 
He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up. 
“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets. 
“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in. 
“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up. 
“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-” 
“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?” 
Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing. 
While you had to try hard to hide your excitement. 
“You don’t have to…” 
“Shut up. She deserves it.” 
Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse. 
“What time were you thinking?” 
“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…” 
“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.” 
He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway. 
“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush. 
“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.” 
He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot. 
-
You might have gone a bit overboard. 
You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe. 
The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one. 
Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics. 
You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control. 
Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing. 
A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began. 
“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready. 
Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to. 
Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard. 
“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think. 
“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad. 
Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her. 
He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough. 
Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around. 
Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette  tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways. 
“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing. 
“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no. 
“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music. 
The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.
“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely. 
He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was. 
“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.” 
“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?” 
“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response. 
“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning. 
“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you. 
“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach. 
“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them. 
-
You were on the couch. 
Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really. 
You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily. 
Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good. 
He didn’t really know you. 
Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet. 
Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough. 
It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there. 
Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while. 
You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much. 
While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much. 
You didn’t care. Not at all. 
Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.
-
part 2 is up!
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference &lt;3
requests! are open
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lovelytsunoda · 2 months
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give me a kiss (or three) // lando norris
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summary: matching clothes shouldn't turn lando on this much.
pairing: lando norris x female reader
warnings: smut, the worst description I have ever written, it’s a lil bit cringe. lando has a nickname for his dick, and a box of flavoured condoms in his bedside drawer. lowkey inspired by an audio posted by the wonderful @2-fast-2-curious. (I took a lot of creative liberties and added a ton of things, but the base idea is still there), there's more laughter than sex in here my dudes-
seeing lando norris wrapped up in the soft pink bedspread should not have warmed her heart the way that it did.
she had slipped out of the bed and ducked across the hallway to use the bathroom, and when she came back, her chest seized at the sight of her lover, his arms wrapped around the massive section of duvet that she was previously buried under.
she never thought she'd see the day, and she never thought she could feel this way about someone who felt the same way back.
she slowly began to dress, careful not to make any noise in the small bedroom. not only would she prefer not to wake her roommates, lando himself was a light sleeper and he needed to be well rested before they went to visit her parents that afternoon.
"sweetheart?" lando mumbled, messy-haired and groggy as he began to surface from underneath the duvet. "its so early, what are you doing awake?"
"i have to run to tescos, and then i have boxing at ten." she smiled softly, tightening the strap on her lacy bralette. "i wanted to let you sleep in. you'll need all your energy for the drive later."
lando snorted, sitting up straight, his curls matted by sleep and sticking to his skin. "there's no way you're wearing a bra that nice to your boxing class."
"i'll change when i get there." she chuckled, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.
the blankets shifted with the movement, falling away from lando's thighs to where his royal blue boxers hugged his skin. the man looked down, and then over to the matching set his girlfriend was wearing before he let out a laugh.
"what's so funny?"
"your bra matches my underwear." lando snickered. "we match. a perfect pair."
she couldn't help but join in with her lovers laughter and mirth, looping her arm's around his neck with a chortle. his skin was warmed against hers, which had rapidly cooled since she had emerged from her blanket huddle and into the winter air that filled her home.
"you're so cringe." she giggled, standing between his legs, the slight shade of difference between their underclothes making her smile.
he was right. they were almost a perfect pair.
"cringe? you think i'm cringe?" lando feigned hurt, squeezing her sides playfully. he kissed her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip as his hands roamed her lower body.
the kiss was passionate, yet playful, smiles evident on both of their faces (even when lando slipped his tongue into her mouth, earning a surprised shout).
"not as cringe as the time-" she stopped midsentence, whining as lando ran his tongue along the sweet spot on her neck before diving back in to kiss her. "you wore the monoply boxers."
"i thought 'wanna go to jail" was a great line!"
"yeah, for a fifteen year old boy!"
"it still worked, didn't it?" lando laughed, grabbing at her thighs to roll them over.
the duvet was soft and pillowy around her, bunched up just enoough around her that it narrowed her field of vision. all that existed in that moment was her and lando.
just the way she liked it. she loved it when they were silly like this, playful and sexy at the same time. an experience that felt so uniquely like the two of them and their love, and ensured that they never got tired of being intimate with each other.
"am i still cringe when i've got your wrists pinned to the bed?" lando smirked, his body a comfortable weight against hers, her wrists cradled against the goose down.
"i dunno." she smiled arching upwards to press her lips against his. "why don't we find out?"
lando grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "i like the way you think, but don't you have to go to boxing?"
"they won't miss me. i'm there three times a week as it is." she smiled, snaking one bare leg around his.
lando's touch was as familiar as her afternoon stretching routine. every brush of his fingertips against her skin made her feel powerful, like she could do anything. his lips were comfortable and warm against hers, yet new and exciting every time. lando's grip on her wrists let up, and she buried her fingers in his curls, tugging softly.
"fuck, babe. i love it when you do that." he moaned, lips dancing over the material of her bralette, tonguing at her peaked nipples.
"i know." she hummed, breath hitching. "oh, i love it when you do that."
"that's my girl." lando hummed, reverence in his eyes and a serene expression on his face as he continued to kiss across her collarbone, throughout the valley between her breasts. "you want my fingers, baby? want me to make you feel good?"
“please.” she keened, arching into him.
landos calloused fingers danced across her thigh, over the cluster of freckles that used to make her feel so insecure but he so dearly loved, reaching for the damp spot on her panties. his touch was feather light, running up and down her slit, barely applying any pressure at all.
“lando.” she breathed, making a show of spreading her legs wider for him.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” he hummed, tugging her panties to the side before dipping two fingers in with a moan. “all this for me? you’re so wet, love.”
“only for you.” she moaned, breath hitching as she dug her fingernails into landos shoulder blades, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat off her neck. “oh, baby.”
“such a good girl for me, taking my fingers so well.” he praised, using his free hand to guide her face towards his.
lando kissed her deeply, her hands moving to clutch his hair as his fingers fucked her deeper. every inch of her body was on fire with desire, pleasure pooling in her stomach, her lovers hard cock pressing against her stomach while he finger-fucked her to high heaven.
“oh my god, lando, fuck, I think I’m gonna-“
she didn’t have time to finish that thought before lando pulled his fingers out abruptly, making a show out of licking them off as she whined impatiently at her ruined orgasm.
“what the fuck, dude!”
lando just laughed, kissing her forehead. “payback, sweetheart. you called me cringe, so you don’t get to come.”
“fuck you.”
“I beleive you’re trying to.”
the room went awkwardly silent, so much so that you could hear a pin drop. and then, all at once, they both burst out laughing. the kind of laughter that makes your eyes water, your stomach start to hurt. Lando was laughing so hard that he dropped back onto the bed, bare chest heaving as he looked up at the ceiling.
“why the fuck did I say that?” he cackled.
“I don’t know!” she laughed back. “if it helps, I thought it was cute, and it really made me want to suck your dick.”
“yes, actually. that does help.” landos eyes brightened as she shifted his position, sliding his boxers down his legs. “little lando has missed your pretty face.”
“little lando? god I hate that you have a nickname for your penis.”
“we’ll, if you’re going to insult him like that-“
“shut up.” she breathed, kissing him with a smile. “do we have any of those flavoured condoms left?”
lando grinned. “watermelon or fruit punch?”
she slipped off the bed, foot tangling with the flat sheet as she crouched in front of the bedside table, digging through the drawer for the small red box, searching for the elusive fruit punch condom.
she had never been a fan of giving head. there was something about it that had always just icked her out, but lando made her want to try. she wanted to expand her horizons with him, not for him. it took a lot of trial and error, but they found a way: flavoured condoms. this way, it was more enjoyable for her as well as him. it was akin to a warm ice lolly, rather than a body part.
she deftly ripped the packaging open, sliding the rubber shield onto landos cock. she positioned herself between his legs, taking a few deep breaths before taking his cock in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and running her tongue up and down the shaft.
“oh my god!” lando moaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips. getting blown was always a treat for him, considering that y/n didn’t enjoy it all the time, finding it more stressful than it was worth. but every time she did it, he was reminded just how incredible she was at it.
it was a treat, one that he would savour until the end of time.
he bit his lip to stifle a moan, dropping his hand to the back of her head. he was big in her mouth, weighty against her tongue. she closed her eyes, sucking gently.
“god, you’re so perfect.” lando whined, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb on the side of her head. “taking me like such a good girl.”
she opened her eyes, chancing a look at the love of her life. she moaned at the sight of his rippling abs, body contorted in pleasure.
all because of her. she did that.
“fucking hell, honey. I think I’m gonna blow.”
lando came with a howl, hips stuttering as he came inside the condom sheath. she slipped off his cock quickly, leaving a trail of saliva behind as she made her way up his body to press a soft kiss to landos lips. using a handful of tissues, he slipped the condom off, balling it up and tossing it in the wastebasket. his breathing was heavy, but he was raring to go for more.
“sit on my cock, babe. ride me, please. I need it.”
she smiled, kissing him again. “now who’s the needy one?”
“shut up. do you want to come on my dick or not?” he joked, tickling her sides.
she playfully pushed him against the headboard before rooting around for another condom (a normal one, this time). she pressed the foil packet into lando's hand before getting to her feet and sliding off her soaked panties. she moved to take off her bra as well, but lando grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"keep it on, gorgeous."
and how could she argue when he was giving her puppy dog eyes?
she sunk down slowly, dramatically playing up her actions with some hair-fluffing and boob-primping. lando laughed underneath her, the sound distracting her from the sting as he stretched her out with his cock.
she shifted slowly at first, moving her hips in slow, torturous circles, biting her lip to stop a moan. her lover groaned, looking up at her with lust and reverence in his eyes.
"comfy?" he quipped, hands gently moving to grip her backside.
"very." she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
lando wasted no time in guiding her movements, lifting her up and down on his cock like it was no effort at all. her fingernails dug into his shoulders, small pants coming out in quick breaths as she bounced on his length.
"oh my god, lando." she whined. "you feel so good. so good, baby."
"that's my girl." lando hummed, dotting kisses along her collarbone, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her ass. "only i get to see you like this, make you feel this good." he growled "and you're doing so so well for me, love."
if lando were to explain what having sex with his girlfriend was like in two words, he'd probably say coming home. she was his safe haven. they fit together like a glove, always seemed to know what the other needed without saying a word. and if they spent more time laughing than actually having sex, or fi their sex was goofier than it was seductive? that didn't matter to him. all that mattered was that they spent that time together.
just two people in love, showing the other just how much.
every bit of praise made her skin break out in goosebumps. she could feel herself dripping onto lando's thighs, but she didn't care. she just wanted to be close to him. as close as physically possible. she arched inwards, leaning against his chest for support as lando stopped moving her hips, instead thrusting his up rapidly to meet hers, a strangled moan escaping her throat.
"that's it, princess. you don't need to do any of the work. lando's got you." he cooed, pressing kisses to her sweaty forehead, whispering words of praise in between moans and grunts. animalistic sounds that just turned her on even more, pleasure reverberating throughout her body.
her slender fingers came up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently. lando moaned softly, angelically, his head tilted backwards and his eyes closed. it was a heavenly sight as he leaned down to sew her lips to his, walls beginning to contract against his cock.
"fuck, lando, go faster. i'm so close, baby." she whined, feeling him pick up the pace, hugging her body closer. she matched his movements, circling her hips and reaching a hand towards her clit.
"you coming, baby? you gonna come all over my thick, hard dick?" lando crooned. "touching yourself for me? getting yourself off on my cock."
"lando, please." she breathed, fingers rapidly moving against her swollen bud. she could feel herself getting closer, the band in her stomach getting tighter. "make me come."
he kissed her hard, thrusting deeper, the room echoing with the sounds of his skin slapping against hers, his guttural moans as his head fell back against the pillows. she could feel him release into the condom, his dick shuddering inside her, the latex getting warmer as it filled.
that was enough to trigger her own release, her juices pouring out of her, running down lando's shaft and dripping onto his thighs. she came with a cry of his name, bracing her hands against the headboard. her limbs felt like jelly as she tried to ease herself off him.
"easy does it." lando spoke softly, his voice raspy (as it usually was after sex), his touch gentle as he eased her down onto the bed. "remember to breathe, there's still water on the nightstand from last night. finish the glass, darling." he kissed her forehead softly before stripping himself of the condom and wiping her legs up with a handful of tissues. "come here."
she smiled, placing the now-empty ikea glass on the nightstand before curling up against him, wrapping her naked limbs over his, pulling the flat sheet over their bodies.
"this was a much better workout than boxing." she smiled, resting her head on his chest. "you're more fun than the coach is."
"i should hope so. i need to give you a reason to keep me around." lando joked, kissing her forehead. "i love you, my darling darling girl."
"i love you too, my handsome boy." she smiled, leaning up to kiss him, trailing a hand across his face as they kissed softly.
"by the way, this doesn't absolve you of driving to my mum's later. and yes, we're still going."
"god damn it! she always sends home with so much crap, i can't fit it all in the mclaren!"
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @lorarri @userlando
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months
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Just a little something something for you guys...as a treat😈
When Simon's away for a while on deployment, it can get lonely. He's knows by the way your texting, when he gets the chance and can text, that you are missing him like crazy. You tell him how you can hardly wait till he returns, how your body is just aching for him something fierce.
And fuck his aching for yours too.
If he could hop on a plane, he would in an instant just to get back to you. Unfortunately, that's not something available to him at the moment.
But that doesn't mean there's nothing for him to do.
Simon knows his baby needs something to take the edge off, something to tide over that insatiable appetite for him until he can come home and fuck her proper the first chance he can get. You never asked for it, but he knew you wouldn't mind.
Ding
Your phone goes off. It's late, but youre no stranger to staying up well past dark; sometimes that was the only way you'd get a minute to talk to Simon when he was away across the world.
You check your phone. It's a text... a picture...
At first glance at the small icon on the lock screen, the image is kind of dark so you have to click on it to bring it up and when you do you nearly faint.
The caption reads: “Gotta be stealthy so they don't fuckin' catch me, but this one's for you sweetheart."
Simon is clearly propped up in his cot, his legs splayed open, shirt off. All that you can see is his thick torso with it's small speckling of light colored hair across his abs. The belt and zipper of his pants are completely undone and the waistband flung open. In one of his meaty hands he has a hold of his cock, already swollen with a little glistening at the top caught in the low light - most definitely a product from thinking of you.
You have to swallow to keep the spit from dribbling down out of the corner your mouth. Instantly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, burning through your face as the blood pools there. It feels like you are going to pass out.
He's done it, he's taken your breath away in an instant.
Not even recovered from that glorious image your phone dings again, this time downloading something for a few seconds. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath caught in your lungs, as you wait to see what he's done now.
Ding
It's downloaded. This time it's a video...about a minute long. Your shaky, excited finger instantly clicks play.
"Mmmm..." his breath groan hits your ears as the vision of him stroking his length plays across the screen. His voice in hushed, clearly trying to be as quiet as he can while still making sure you can hear his words. "Fuck darlin', I wish you were here... rather have that sweet little pussy 'round me than my hand."
You've stopped breathing, literally; you could hear a pin drop in the room. The video of his abdominal muscles contracting and releasing as he continues to stroke his cock is all you can focus on now. Looks like he's in the middle of things.
He groans again, his breathing getting faster. "Fuck, I miss ya luv. It's been hell not having ya near for this fuckin' long. Nearly rippin' a hole in my goddamn pants from being so fuckin hard. I swear... gonna absolutely wreck ya when I get back. Don't even bother wearing any panties cause they're gonna get shredded off ya. Nothin', and I mean fuckin' nothin' is gonna keep me from buryin' all this in ya the fuckin' second we're alone. I wanna make you cum so fuckin bad baby."
The video fades out amongst the sound of another low, gravely moan and your sanity is gone. Dear God you were a lucky one tonight. You have to take several minutes just to relearn how to function properly again so you can text him back.
Before you can do that your phone goes off once more.
Ding
One final message pops up on screen: "Think of me later when you cum, sweetheart..."
Oh, you would, you would. And maybe just to be nice...you'd send him something back too.
Part 2:
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irndad · 1 month
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oh, but you're good to me -s.r.
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a/n: i continue to not know the word count- but here's pining!spencer x sunshine!reader!! very hozier coded <3
The team has gone out for drinks after a stressful week, and this is a moment where Spencer finds that his willpower does not so easily overpower his desire. They’d chosen a kind of kitsch place, the kind where there’s couches where waitresses could bring you your drink under dimmed lights and music with cozy acoustic music played. Emily and Morgan were comparing conquests at their trip to the club the week prior, Penelope chiming in with warm support on either end. On the opposite table, Hotch and Rossi were discussing criminology in serious, even tones. 
And Spencer, well. He was well-occupied. 
His best friend is on the team, and he does not say that lightly. She’s earned her place in his heart, as hopelessly romantic as that makes him sound. But she did. He remembers the day he met her, warm tone seeped in patience and understanding. 
He remembers the sight of her like its engraved crystal, carved into the basis of his mind. Her delicate features distinct in their warm kindness. She’d offered her hand, shook it and giggled a sweet sound when he’d said it’d be safer to kiss. He’d blushed enough that his lack of flirtation in his intent was clear. 
On the jet, that first case, she’d listened to him talk about Russian literature and other obscure topics he couldn’t remember now, because now, all he can recall is the color of her doe eyes meeting him in intention. 
He’s pretty sure he’s in love with her. 
Which, right now, feels a bit like a drug- both painful and exhilarating. She’s a cuddly drunk (only with him, it seems) and he’s got a lanky arm tugged over her shoulder. It’s lovely in a way words vex him, the weight of her against him. 
“You look nice today, Spence,” she muses, looking up at him. His heart is going to stop.
“You do too,” he breathes out. This is nice. She’s touchy, and he likes when she touches him. It’s a pleasure, like sipping expensive wine or decadent chocolate, sweet and a little bit sad, because you know you can’t have it forever. 
She plays with his scarf, and he is hopelessly endeared by the sight of the fabric in between her delicate fingers. 
“This color is nice,” she muses, and god,  he wants to kiss her. This a thought Spencer has often, oftentimes at inopportune times. On the jet, in the office, at her house, in the car- always, really. 
Except now, no one’s looking at them. If loving her was enough to make her love him back, then he could. 
But it isn’t. 
He chokes back the emotion rich in his throat. He brushes her hair out of her face, a tender motion that betrays his intentions with her. 
“You always look lovely,” Spencer says earnestly. I love looking at you, he thinks.
She smiles back earnestly and warmly. 
“I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”
“I always do, when it’s you.”
He doesn’t know why this is what he’s allowed to have. She’s so close to him, pinned up against him and he can feel the curve of her waist against his side. He doesn’t get it, why he’s not her boyfriend but he still gets moments like these, where she’s pinned to him like velcro. He’s addicted to them, really- craves the moments where she falls asleep on his lap on the jet, where they’ll be walking together somewhere and she’ll lace their fingers and tug him along when she’s excited and the destination in sight.
Maybe this is just how she touches her best friends- he tries not to question it, because he doesn’t want to loosest. 
But tonight, under the low-light of the bar, shadows of her lashes thrown across the slope of her cheek- he wants to ask her.
“Are you like this with everyone?” He muses. He immediately regrets it, sees her face harden and feels the shift away from him, and the space leaves a gap of cold air. There’s a swoop f nerves in his stomach.
“I don’t know, I think I just thought- you know, we’re like this. We’re touchy, you and me.”
He’s not touchy. Everyone knows this, but she’s the exception to a rule that has held true his entire life. But he loves this, loves the feeling of this.
“I like this,” he says, intentional eye contact trained on her shaking irises. He reaches out and laces their fingers in an act of bravery that rivals some of his most intense moments, “I’m wanting inf you want more of it. Because I do.”
“You do?”
She’s back close to him, now, and he’s so immensely grateful for it. She smells like lilies and her, and this might be the only time he’s brave enough to do something like this. 
It turns out he doesn’t have to, because before he can answer, she kisses him. It happens fast, and his response is all instinct- pulling her into him closer, his hands around her waist and her soft sigh into his mouth that threatens to kill him. It’s better than his fantasies at night could have made him expect. 
“Hi,” she says, barely above a whisper when she pulls away. She looks a little adorably off-guard, in a way he’d like to create- like to instigate. 
“Hi back,” he says, a beaming grin threatening to spread over his face. He tries to memorize the feeling of this, the weight of her in his arms in case this is not something he can keep- he wants to remember it, what it felt like for her to kiss him, to be wanted by her. 
“Do you want to go out sometime?”
“Like out of here? It’s kind of cold outside-“
“On a date, Spencer.”
Instead of a response, Spencer kisses her again. It is absolutely the right choice.
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
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The Undead Florist
Anon said: Basically, I just wanted Danny to deliver flowers to the Justice League heroes from his fans. If you can include Everlasting Trio. U can add whatever crack you think would be best! Thank you!
Clark is in the middle of blocking a heat ray attack from a robot that copies the powers of any Justice League member when the unexpected happens. A kid, no older than fourteen, boldly walks into the battlefield carrying a lavish bouquet of red roses and trigger lilies.
He's dressed in a worker uniform: light brown khakis, a black shirt with a light-born vest, and a black baseball hat resting neatly on his head. There is a company logo on the upper right of his vest but Clark does not recognize the stylized D.
There was a still moment when Clark's super speed could see the exact second Amazo spotted the child. The boy wasn't paying attention, staring at his phone screen, which had the faint details of a map, and had two headphones in his ear.
Clark's eyes widen in horror, and he opens his mouth to try to shout a warning—though he doubts the kid could hear him over the loud music playing in his ear—but before he can, Amazo flung out an arm straight at the kid's head, still pinning Clark down with a cheap version of his own laser ray eyes.
No! No, please, he's so young! He pleads mentally, frozen in horror as the robot's hand goes right through the kid's head. It took a solid minute for Clark to realize that Amazo's hand hadn't ripped through the skull of the child but rather had passed through him as if the boy was not physically there.
From underneath a black baseball cap, brim, electric blue eyes stare at Amazo. Gesturing vaguely to the arm going through his head, the boy frowns. "Rude much?"
"Access: Black Canary," Amazo says in response, his jaw opening wider as a super-powered scream is released, pointing black at the kid's face.
The frown on the worker deepens as the boy reaches up and- slaps the android in the face? "Dude, I'm trying to work. I have like eight flower deliveries today. Also, that was a weak imitation. This is a real Ghostly Wail."
He opens his jaw, letting out a sound that wasn't as loud as Black Canary or Amazo but somehow worse.
And the sound—the unholy screech that releases from the child sends Clark to his knees, quivering in his boots as Amazo disintegrates right before his eyes. The only thing left of the android is a smothering pair of robotic legs that fall over with a loud thump.
The boy huffs, paying no mind to the fact that he took out the enemy the league had spent the last six hours fighting before Clark tried to lure it away from the city. He merely glances back at his phone, following the little moving icon on the map until he stands before the fallen hero.
"Hi! Are you Superman?" The kid asks in a polite, chipper tone. It's such a whiplash change between his normal voice and his customer service voice that it sets in. This is really just a Tuesday for him.
Clark opens and closes his mouth with a weak "Yes" and is pushed out.
The kid's smile grows as he pushes the flowers into his arms. Clark nearly drops the vase, scrambling to get a good hold of them as the kid pulls out a harmonica and plays a little jingle. It sounds like a mix between Happy Birthday and Ring Around the Roses.
Once he is done, the boy holds out his arms wide open and loudly proclaims, in a very obvious Transatlantic accent, which makes him sound... rather otherwordly: "These flowers are sent by your fan Kattie Longsmith in Metropolis, wishing to thank you for rescuing her mother and brother from a fire. She wants to remind you that she is your biggest fan and hopes you have a lovely day. Thank you for selecting the Undead Florist as your means of flora travel!"
With a theatric bow, the boy blinks out of existence.
Clark is left kneeling alone in a destroyed cornfield, beating black and blue, while holding a vase of lavished roses and lilies. He is unsure how long he will stay there, trying to process what he just saw as the Batplane flies onto the scene, Bruce jumping out of it with a cry of his name.
Batman growls upon taking in the scene before his friend rushes to his side. "What happened?"
"I ugh...I got a flower delivery." He manages to utter, eyes still trained on the spot of the strange kid.
"What?"
"Trust me, I'm as confused."
It turns out that Clark's delivery is not an isolated incident. Over the past three months, various Justice League members have reported similar interactions with the Undead Florist.
Flash got a bouquet while trying to stop Captain Cold. The kid had wandered in the middle of a fight, unfreezing the speedster to hand over yellow lilies and sunflowers from a little boy named Teddy Smith in Central City. He had melted the freeze ray that was shot at him while Barry was in the middle of a panic, thinking he would watch a child die.
One little jingle and message was delivered in a Transatlantic accent later, and the boy was gone without a trace again. Bruce had gone to the scene, trying to find anything that could give him some clue, but he disputed the clear picture of his face and the recording of his voice. Nothing about the boy came up in their systems.
Wonder Woman was next, receiving two large bouquets of roses from a fellow woman she had rescued named Trix Cooperman. Her jingle was slightly smoother jazz , and the message leaned towards romantic than gratitude from a fan, but the boy had delivered it nonetheless.
He also took out Cheetah with a well-placed punch, highly impressing Diana. He had the makings of a warrior.
Then Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Martian Man Hunter, Batman, Martian Man Hunter, Hawkgirl, Aquaman, Zatanna, and surprisingly Vigilante each got their own flower grams.
None of them were able to get any information about the child, seeing as he only appeared when the members were in the middle of a fight, which was driving Bruce mad.
Of course, they had tracked down all the clients but met a dead end when each claimed they had never placed an order with Undead Florist. Even when Diana was holding her rope, the people gave the same answer.
They had no idea why Undead Florist was delivering flowers in their name or where the message that came along with the flowers appeared from. The chilling part was that the messages did actively represent their emotions and feelings towards the heroes, but how the overpowered child knew that was left unanswered.
The other thing that bothered Bruce was that the Undead Florist only appeared when they were in battle.
"Maybe it's because he doesn't know how to find you otherwise," Nightwing suggested at the Justice League-wide meeting.
"He uses a GPS that is locked into the heroes." Batman grunts, not dismissing the suggestion but challenging it, which causes his eldest son to shrug.
"Undead could be following online tips or something. It's not like the Leauge is seen just strolling around the cities, but people tweak when they do happen to see us."
"We could test that. Have a group of heroes just relaxing at a cafe or something. See where he appears and if there is a pattern after monitoring social media." Red Robin suggests, rubbing his chin.
Batman considers it before nodding. "I shall divide the teams."
The Justice League goes out, doing as instructed, and sure enough, they find the Undead Florist appearing more and more. Red Robing happily puts together the pattern, pointing to social media generated by the younger generation's demographics.
Undead Florist is an actual teenager using DCtweets to find heroes to bring flowers to. They have enough proof of that to show he's harmless if one ignores his more than impressive battle skills.
"Now all we need to do is catch him," Clark announces. "We don't want to scare him, but the Justice League really needs to know how he's doing all of this. It could be a security risk."
Meanwhile, Danny chills in his haunt, watching Sam tend to the flowers in a large greenhouse he placed for her. Tucker is typing away on a ghost zone-powered supercomputer, looking at all the Soul orders their business is getting.
The Ghost Zone didn't have a formal currency; they had Deals instead. Even small unconscious deals—like wishing on a shooting star, throwing a coin in a fountain, or sending a prayer or two—could be turned into deals if a higher being encountered them.
Luckily for those people, Danny and his lovers are very kind higher beings and choose to complete their requests in a way that satisfies all of their obsessions without stealing souls.
Sam got to spread her greenery across worlds, Tucker got to spend time with tech from different universes and Danny was able to explore and protect the souls of humans.
That Danny could exchange these Soul orders for gold was no one business but their own.
"Ohhh, another order, Red Robin, from Universe Nine!" Tucker crows. "It's roses in the shape of a heart from Kon-el. Aw, he's in love with his best friend!"
"That's sweet." Danny smiles, leaning over his boyfriend's shoulder to read the message he must memorize when he struts into Gotham. "I know how much fun dating best friends is."
"Let's help those losers confess then!" Sam calls, raising her hands as roses of various colors burst to life around her.
1K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 6 months
Text
Winter soldier x reader ft sex pollen
Unhinged winter soldier with sex pollen. This is wildly inappropriate (with some fluff?...) but I thought of it so you must all suffer with me. Imagine Hydra filling the room with sex pollen immediately after Buck is wiped, sending him out at in his most feral state in hopes that the winter soldier will lose control and give into the urges they've forced into him. They need him to breed another super soldier since they were unable to replicate the serum in his veins.
As soon as the dust fills the room, his pupils dilate, his tac suit far too hot, his veins pumping so hard they feel like they're going to burst. The straps holding him down release and his chest is heaving, trying to calm down the primal needs hes feeling, pain prickling his skin the longer he stays in the room. He grunts, striding out of the room and into the night, chasing a craving he has to get out.
He moves without a soul detecting him, until a sweet scent catches his attention. Floral, natural, innocent. Fertile. He's suddenly hyper focused on the thing his body is screaming for, following the unsuspecting woman, his teeth grinding through the pain. She enters a building and he observes each window before seeing a lights turn on, her nude silhouette appearing through the curtains.
It takes no effort for him to climb up the fire escape, easily prying the locked window open only to be met with the sound of the shower running. Her scent permeates all his senses and he nearly strips off all his clothes then and there, the pollen causing lust that makes his bones ache. The water shuts off and hes waiting like a predator waiting for its prey, sitting perfectly still while the door clicks open. She gasps and freezes in place and he sight alone makes him growl.
Pathetic little bunny.
"Who-who are you" she whispers, clutching her towel tightly together though it's not like she didn't know. Tears fill her eyes seeing the deadly soldier people spoke about, unsure if he even existed, the very rumor now sitting on her bed. He doesn't anything, groaning at the feeling of his arousal steadily dripping from his cock, palming his erection.
"Please-don't" She shakes her head, seeing his hardness pressing against his pants, his large presence suffocating because she knows there's no where to run. He slips his mask off, revealing his dangerously handsome face, his eyes wild with lust and need.
"But I have to" He grits out, stalking over to her and grabbing her by the waist, burying his nose in her freshly washed hair, deeply groaning at the scent of her bodywash, "mne eto nuzhno, zayka" [I need this, bunny]
"No-I-I'll do anything-" She trembles, squeezing her eyes shut feeling his warm wet tongue lick up her neck as his mismatched hands rip her towel away, pulling her hips flush against his cock. The rough material of his tactical hear scratches her soft skin, making her whimper when when he bites her shoulder.
"takoy myagkiy krolik" [such a soft bunny] He throws her like a doll, her ass bouncing off the mattress, flat on her back back while he undoes his pants, pulling his cock out. She squeezes her legs shut, shaking her head, his fat bobbing length taunting her as he pumps himself while crawling onto the bed.
"It hurts bunny" He groans, forcing her legs apart, her natural scent nearly causing pain as he stares at her pussy. Her button between her legs involuntarily twitches and he pinches it hard making her squeal, the sound causing a drop of precum to spill out.
His head is so focused on getting his release, he doesn't bother prepping her, shoving his cock into her tight cunt, grunting and forcing his length in when he feels resistance. He stars to fuck her hard, holding both wrists in his metal hand, keeping her pinned under him while he splits her open.
"Hurts-too much-to big-stop-" She gasps out her pained cries melting into muddled moans of pleasure, her own body betraying her, feeling her own warmth wetting his cock making it easier for him to slip in and out. "Oh god-soldat-stop-don't-
"You're wet" He hisses, almost accusatorily, pounding her harder, faster until the bed shakes and scratches the floor, the serum pumping in his veins making his cock sensitive.
"I need this-I need it" Sweat beads at his forehead, his balls feeling heavier than usual, the pollen causing his body to produce more semen than he naturally would.
"YA chuvstvuyu zapakh, kakoy ty mokryy, zayka" [I can smell how wet you are bunny] His balls throb painfully, his cock ready to burst as his thrusts become more erratic. He snarled against her neck as pleasure starts to lick up his spine, the bruising grip on her wrists tightening as he starts to pump her full of his load without warning.
She whimpers feeling shame for the delicious stretch of his cock, her cunt fluttering, swollen from his abusive pace. She finds herself flipped over with her ass in the air, her face pressed against the sheets, his cock rock hard again, prodding at her puffy folds.
"Not done-need more" he growls lowly, stripping his clothes off, his body heat dialed to 100. His crotch is covered in cum, a mix of his and hers, the smell of her driving him insane as he grabs her hips and slams her to meet his thrusts again. He has more power at this angle, fucking her like a mad man, groaning with his head thrown back, eyes rolled to the back of his head, only focused on pleasuring his cock.
"Ty shlyukha Zimnego soldata, ty voz'mesh' to, chto ya tebe dayu" [You're the winter soldier's whore, you'll take what I give you] He's at his most unhinged, grunting and groaning, fucking her like an animal, her muffled screams only causing his cock to swell more. "Make me feel good, make it go away bunny"
"Soldat please stop-too big" she begs and he fucks her harder, making her moan, pulling another orgasm out of her body even if she fought against it. His thighs meet the back of hers, rolling and rocking his hips, hitting her cervix until her sweet juices squirt out of her, obscene sounds of skin on skin filling he room. "SOLDAT"
"I have to breed you bunny" He shakes his head, unwilling to leave until he's sure she's pregnant with his child, forcing every bit of his cum into her. "My fertile little bunny" He nips your skin, running his hands over her tummy, imaging it firm and round with his baby growing inside. He loved the thought of such an unsuspecting, sweet angel carrying the child of he soldier, all of his cum making a mess in her pussy.
By the last round, the pollen has started to dissipate and the cloud is lifting. He pants, still rutting into her pussy, something tugging at his conscious, shaking his head when the lusty animalistic haze weavers.
"T-tell me your name" He rasps, his heart beating wildly, loosening his grip on her. She whimpers from pain and to her surprise, he slowly down, still grinding himself in, burying her face into her neck. "zayka, pozhaluysta" [bunny, please]
"Y/n" she whispers, unsure of why she told him, her voice catching in her throat when his lips press against her skin. She's limp in his hold, the smell of sex permeating the room, the sheets soaked with his cum, but nothing more full than her cunt.
"Y/n" He moans, his body trembling as he nears the end of his final release, stilling till he's milked himself dry, her soft body worn under him. Something is wrong, he can feel it, the emotionless control he had before, slipping from his grasp. He yearns to hold the woman in his arms but he can't .Something stops him.
His movements are robotic as he pulls away and slips his clothes back on, memories unfamiliar to him flashing through his mind.
He wasn't the soldier.
He was-
Her soft snores pull her from his spiral, looking up to seeing her sleeping form, fucked out from the way he'd ruined her. He frowns at the unfamiliar feeling of concern he's experiencing, pulling the covers over her body.
"Thank you bunny" He whispers, making her whine in her sleep, calling for the soldier.
"I'm-
He shakes his head, his previously wild replaced with those of a young man from Brooklyn.
"B-Bucky"
-
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vivalabunbun · 2 months
Text
As We Are, We Will Be
Summary: A nonsensical question is proposed in one singular moment between a stoic and stoic face in one singular universe.
Word Count: 9k (It was supposed to be short and sweet-)
Tags: Alhaitham X Fem! Reader, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, a lot of fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, slow fic, established relationship, married life, Soft! Alhaitham, attempts at comedy, mentions of aging, slightly jealous! Alhaitham, mutual pinning, soft sex, vanilla, safe sex (wrap it up), riding (cowgirl), fingering, slow sex, making love, really bad expatiations of scientific theories and math, just two nerds in love.
Authors Note: Happy belated birthday and Valentine's Day to my favorite dendro nerd. A continuation of this piece, one I hold dear. A thought experiment based on nothing more than the feverish delirium of love.
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It was just for a moment. 
A mere pasting instance in the contentious momentum of time when a glimmer caught your eyes in the muddled chatter of a crowd, a silver shimmer like starlight.
Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source.
A late morning on a Saturday, the markets and stalls were lively with families replenishing a week's worth of groceries. Bodies veering and easing through the bustle of the busty streets.
The wide breadth of life that moved all around you. Like a collection of small dots within the vastness of a universe. 
But amid the vast collection of blurry faces were the flicker of silvery locks refracting the late morning light. Originating from a pair, an elderly lady and an elderly man, their aged hands intertwined. 
Time had made her marks upon them, and gravity had pulled down on their wrinkled faces. Yet, the ends of their lips were pointed toward the sky. The corners of their eyes wrinkled as their gazes held each other's faces. 
From their view, do they not see the starlight hue of their hair? Instead, do they still see the vibrancy and youth of their locks which age had stolen from them? 
The image of each other reflected in their irises, was it from a time before the hands of gravity pulled on their creased skin and bowed bones? Would you ever be able to find out? 
“I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of people-watching.” A baritone voice ghosts over your ear. 
Jolting your head to your right, you come face to face with the interruption. Or perhaps, your mind finally registered Alhaitham’s presence just off to the side of you. His arms were weighted down with various bags. 
Oh, that’s right, the markets and stalls were lively on the weekend with families restocking groceries for the upcoming week. You and Alhaitham were no different. 
Glancing up at his ashen trestles and then scanning back at the starlight locks of the elderly couple, and then back to your husband. 
“Hmm, not quite. Just noting the fact your hair is the same color as an old man’s, Haitham.” You catch the subtle twitch of his brow. 
“Is that so? I hope you are aware you’re not immune to the inevitably of aging, wife,” Alhaitham returns your jest. 
“Well, with your hair color and grumpiness, I’d say you’re already halfway there.” 
“I needn’t expound on your equivalent levels of grumpiness, it won’t be long before your locks share the same ashen hue.” 
“I guess that’s why we get along then, dear husband.” 
“That’s one theory,” he huffs, a simple tone lacking any bite.
You pan your face back toward the crowd, partly because it’s getting harder to hold the neutral position of your lips, partly because your curiosity aches for an untold conclusion. 
However, when your gaze returned to the ever-bustling sea of people, the pair of starlight hues were nowhere to be found. It was regrettable, but expected, the elderly couple were nothing more than a pair of strangers in a crowd full of unfamiliar faces.
They were just a brief scene that disappeared into the moving tides of people. 
Leaving you with your unresolved musings. 
“Is there anything else we need for the week?” 
Alhaitham’s voice reels your consciousness back, swiftly you check the crinkled slip of parchment within your hand. Scanning down the list of written items, all with a neat little line crossed through their immaculately penned letters. 
“It looks like we got everything we need.” You tuck the list into your pocket. 
“Then it’s best we get home before our groceries are spoiled by the heat.” Alhaitham readjusts the bags in his hands. 
A hum takes its place as your response. Pivoting your body in the direction of your shared home. From the corner of your field of view, his strides were paced to coincide with your shorter steps. 
Studying the numerous bags occupying his hands, you can’t help but think it’s quite convenient to have someone as robust as your husband. Maybe it's these weekly grocery runs that are the secret behind his physique. 
Discreetly, your hand slowly slips between the gap of his arm and body, linking your elbows together. So that your frame and his could withstand the push and pull of the crowd’s contentious momentum. 
The neutrality of your lips had long slipped away, softened by the familiarity of his warmth. Even as your eyes were pointed on the path ahead, you had an inkling that a similar occurrence was mirrored on his lips as well. 
An inquiry your curiosity didn’t need to peek to resolve. 
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That ache for an untold conclusion morphed into a new musing by the afternoon. 
The silver shimmer from that elderly couple’s hair truly was like starlight. Perhaps that’s the correlation that steered your thoughts down this winding path of pondering. 
Everyone, from those taking their first stumbling steps of youth to the slowed cane-assisted tramps in their golden years, is technically billions of years old. Or more accurately, the atoms and minerals in everyone are billions of years old. 
The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood were all forged in the hearts of bygone stars. When those bright beacons burned out they exploded in one last finale, expelling those materials across interstellar space. Stardust that found its way here. 
Here within you, and here within the slow breaths of the man in front of you. 
After being around for billions of years, does stardust ever get exhausted? 
That would be a sensible explanation for why Alhaitham had snuck away amidst hanging up freshly washed laundry. 
His tall frame stretched the expanse of the couch as his starlight lashes were shut, shamelessly relishing in a nap under the streams of sunlight trickled in from the window. 
Squatting down you observe the guiltless expression plastered over his resting face, still deep in the trenches of sleep, a small huff passes through your lips. Well, this morning you did have him carry all the groceries from the market back home.
Your husband does deserve this little nap.
Trailing your eyes down his neck you note the lack of a pillow, then as your gaze travels further you note the absence of a blanket as well. Internally, your mind tsks at this forgetful habit of his. 
Although his body and yours still have youth coursing through your veins, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain as impervious as they are now later down the line, especially if preventative measures aren’t taken.
Like having a pillow to support one’s neck, or a blanket to prevent chills from plaguing the body. 
Standing back to full height, you retrieved the missing artifacts, returning with a plush pillow and light comforter.  
Even when his head was momentarily lifted to make space for the pillow, and when the spare comforter was draped over him, Alhaitham didn’t stir one bit. At times you can’t determine if he’s a light sleeper or if his stubbornness refuses to leave the plain of dreams. 
It’s a true wonder of life how Alhaitham’s able to sleep so soundly at night given his extensive naps. 
The vivid sunlight illuminated patterns upon his cheeks and trestles, causing the ashen strands to dazzle in their refraction of the afternoon light. A sight your eyes just couldn’t help but be enraptured by. 
Maybe you could blame the warmth of the sunlight, or maybe the serenity of this quiet Saturday afternoon, or perhaps even these fickle inquiries about his naps for the yawn that left your lips. Now might be the prime time for some research. 
Lifting up the comforter just enough for an opportunity to slip through, your body settles in the space right against his. It’s crowded on the couch, the cushions unprepared for two bodies to occupy its entirety, the open edge looming against your back.
Even after all the shuffling and pressing against his dozing frame, your husband didn’t budge a bit. 
Leaden lashes still shut and lips set in that all too familiar line, chest rhythmically rising and falling in time with yours. The very image of unperturbedness under the blessing of sleep. 
“You really are like an old man.” 
At that mere jab, the corners of his lips tugged down while his eyes remained closed. A quick slip that confirmed your earlier suspicions. 
“Who knew you were so talented in acting, Haitham,” you snicker. 
A muscular arm soon enveloped your form, further pressing you against his chest as if to silence any more sardonic quips from entering his ears. 
It was quite the challenge to stifle those giggles before they could erupt from your lips. Peeking up, there’s an ever-so-subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. An express which yours mirrored. 
Studying the details of the lips just a breath away, a new musing worms its way into your thoughts:
 When the hands of gravity and time start to pull down on his skin and yours the same, leaving wrinkles and creases in their wake, will the edges of his lips still curl like this? 
Would yours mirror the same? 
A second yawn sneaks past your lips as your lashes grow heavier with each fluttering blink. Claiming a corner of the pillow to lay your head upon, the seconds between each subsequent blink grew longer and longer until your lids were too heavy to lift. 
Perhaps the stardust in your bones was exhausted, craving a short rest in his warmth. 
--------------------------------
There’s something against your back and your legs are tangled in something, sensations which gradually alert your dozing sense back from the fog of slumber.
At first, you only had the strength to peek open one lid, then promptly shut it. But in the nothingness behind your eyelids, something was halting your limps from stretching the weariness out from themselves. 
You tried again, this time fluttering both sets of lashes apart ever so slightly. There’s a dry film coating your throat and mouth, feeling the impressions of the couch cushions and bundled comforter imprinted into your skin.  
What time was it?
Blinking away the haze of sleep just enough to notice how the golden rays of a star were missing. A gray overlay was plastered over the living room despite the ticking clock hands displaying that it was late afternoon.
Peering back through the window behind, observing the congregating insipid clouds blocking out the azure sky. 
A sure sign of rain despite the morning forecast. Rain… wasn’t there something left unfinished on the clotheslines outside? The groggy recollection of responsibilities creeps into the forefront of your mind. 
The reign of your weary limbs slowly returns, and your legs languidly attempt to stretch out from the reveal they were caught in. However, their movements only caused a pair of longer limbs to ensnarl them further.
Alhaitham’s legs promptly caught yours, stifling any prospect of escape. 
Your displeased whine was responded with a disgruntled groan by the man keeping your body locked against his. 
Wasn’t your back looming just about the edge of the couch when you fell asleep? So why are you in this position now?
Your body wedged between the plush backing of the couch and his solid frame, the comforter swaddling you also didn’t aid in your immobility. Brawny arm draped over your waist, halting your feeble squirms at freedom. 
“The laundry,” you mumble.
“Later.” A blunt interjection from a groggy voice. 
“It’s going to rain.” 
“Less than a 30% chance.” 
“Haitham…” 
Your husband simply burrows his head deeper into the leveled pillow, likely an attempt to leverage the cushy material to block out your grievances. His ashen lashes still stubbornly shut, much to your displeasure.
“Alhaitham.”
No fluctuations in your volume nor tone, but it was enough for one teal eye to peek out from under ashen lashes. Trailing up to a subtle frown to the furrow between your brow, then finally meeting your unamused stare.
“Laundry,” you try again. 
A silent stare down, one stone face gazing upon an equally stoic face, like an immovable object pressed against an equally immovable object.
Which one will defend their title of most stubborn today? 
His chest expands with a deep breath, grasp enclosing around your waist before his teal gaze shamelessly vanishes behind closed lashes. Robust frame pinning you further to the back of the couch as he continues to ignore your huffy floundering. 
“Release me, don’t you dare-” 
Your grievance was soon muffled by a gentle hand pressing your cheek into his palatial chest. A move that stupefies the irksomeness bubbling within until it falls defeated into placidness. 
“Whether it be now or later, they’ll be clean regardless, it’s quite comfortable right here.” The resonance of his voice vibrates in his chest. 
You respond with a humbled grunt. In terms of strength you’d always lose to your feeble husband, wouldn’t you? 
There’s no point in peering up, for the pleased satisfaction of his resting face would bring a sour taste to your tongue. Thus, you merely adjust your limbs, coiling your arms around to his back and pulling his form closer.
It’s crowded on the couch, it’ll be troublesome if Alhaitham were to slip off the edge if his back were to stray any further. 
At this distance, entangled so closely together, the soft beats of his heart in time with yours like a rhythmic lullaby beckons the heavy to return to your eyelids.
The gentle drumming of his heartbeat coaxes out a final sigh from you, lashes descending down as your vision dims back into the realm of slumber. 
Slow breaths and heartbeats homogenize into a tender duet, tranquil enough to distract from the sporadic pattering against the glass and gradually increase in consistency. 
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A less than 30% chance of rain doesn’t mean that there’s a greater than 70% chance of no rain. It’s merely a statistical probability of 0.01 units of more precipitation at a given area in the given forecast area in the time period specified. 
Known as the precipitation probability, calculated based on two factors: 
The forecaster's certainty that precipitation will form or move into the area X The areal coverage of precipitation that is expected, then multiplied by 100. 
Thus, if the forecaster were 90% certain that 30% of the forecast area would receive rain, then the forecast displayed on screens would read as a 27% chance of rain.
A crucial bit of information that seemed to have slipped his mind midst a quiet afternoon. 
A troublesome miscalculation Alhaitham tsks at internally as he wrings out the pillowcase into a sink before tossing it back into the washing machine. Button-down shirts and blouses, wrinkled from the process of twisting out as much rainwater as possible, sat in damp piles awaiting their turn to be rewashed. 
As he measures out the detergent he can hear the rattles and clanks of the pot and pans from the kitchen. A late dinner in preparation, a task which was supposed to be his this week.
When he woke up to the pattering of rain drumming against the window panes, the afternoon long gone, it stirred an ever-so-sinking pit of dread. Second only to the unamused stare of his wife as she replicated an overconfident statement:
“Less than a 30% chance, Alhaitham?”
How unfortunate it all was, that the area where this quaint house resides was part of that 30% of the forecasted area.
Teal eyes watch the bedsheets whirl and fumble as they spin in the wash, contemplating the circumstance and further action. 
There is only one spare bedding set in the closet, so it’d be wise to allow you to have it for tonight as all the sheets and covers get rewashed and dried.
Your bed is about the same size as his, so two bodies wouldn’t have an issue fitting. At this rate, the two of you just slept in whichever bed was the most convenient. 
However, given the current state of things, Alhaitham wonders if he should prepare himself to brave tonight on his bare mattress with a flimsy spare blanket and pillow.
He might as well return to the couch for tonight if that was the case. 
The accumulation of all the years of science, mathematics, and research, Alhaitham wonders if there was ever a bright mind who came up with a formula to calculate how displeased one’s wife is.
What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it be? 
More specifics needed to be gathered, something the man couldn’t do in the refugee of the laundry room. Thus, Alhaitham must brave a journey into the kitchen. His slipper-clad footsteps are slow and methodical as the kitchen appears from around the corner of the hallway.
Sights honed in on your back as you stood by the stove, a rich aroma wafting through the air. 
Sleep still dusted your hair, evident in the few unruly strands sticking up erratically on your head, you made no attempt at fixing it. One hand is too occupied with stirring the pot on the stove, and the other set upon your hip.
Your stance wasn’t exactly tipping the scales in his favor. 
Cautiously, Alhaitham made his way to you. Stopping just a few paces as your eyes peer over your shoulder, stoic gaze halting him in place just a few paces away. The faded imprint of the crumpled blankets and couch cushions on your cheek.
His hand twitches with the urge to run his thumb along the impressions, but rationally warns him of the consequences. 
“The laundry?” No discernable tone in your voice. 
“Everything has been collected and wrung out, I’ll rewash everything tomorrow.” It’s best to answer your questions this time. 
“Hmm, they were out in the rain for quite a while now. They were dripping out onto the floor when you brought them in.” 
“I’ve mopped away any rain and mud tracked between the back door and laundry room.” Teal eyes quickly checked the aforementioned area to ensure they were pristine before returning to you. 
“Hmm.” You turn back towards the stove. 
The soft ticks of the clock accompany the waning drums of raindrops against the glass, the kitchen hood whirring as a ladle continues to stir in a pot. A quiet lull engulfed the home. Treading on the side of caution, Alhaitham inhales deeply. 
Without opening the box, one will never be able to confirm to fate of Schrödinger's cat. 
“What’s for dinner?” 
“Hmm? Well, it’s raining tonight, what better to eat on a rainy night than some Sabz Meat Stew, no?” 
He’s careful to not sigh too audibly, lest he goes to bed with a stomach half-full of instant noodles and that miffed stare of yours.
Alhaitham decides to hold his tongue as teal eyes continue to watch you add more spices to the pot. Studying how nicely the apron is tied around your waist. 
But it wouldn’t be wise of him to stand so close when the fabric of his shirt was still damp with rainwater transferred to him by the soaked laundry and sky. 
His chain of thought was interrupted by the chimes of your phone on the countertop, catching your eyes as well as his to peek at the over. A certain name is displayed across the screen. It’s as if the hands of fate wanted to throw more salt into his face. 
Bahram (Manager)
It’s a Saturday night, for what reason would an employer need to contact an employee so late?
Alhaitham’s focus shifts to your gaze which is still honed in on the screen. A bitter tinge crawls up the tip of his tongue, threatening to spoil his appetite. Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind settling down in his bare bed with just a spare comforter without dinner tonight.
“Can you reject the call for me? He can wait until Monday to get me to resolve whatever he messed up,” you scoff before rolling your eyes back to the stove. 
Swiftly he swipes to decline the call, let your voicemail remind Bahram of the concept of ‘off time’. The phone whirs again right after the first rejection, but he simply swipes decline again.
Pushing the device away with a bit too much satisfaction in his veins. 
Glancing back at your frame, he lets out a sigh as he relents. Resting his head into the crook of your neck, careful to leave a bit of distance between your bodies and to not hamper your shoulder’s movement. 
“Hm?” You hum expectantly. 
“It was my oversight tonight.” A string of words a bit unfamiliar on his tongue, but stubbornness hasn’t been in his favor tonight. 
“And?”
“I’ll be more cautious regarding naps.” 
“Hmph.” 
The lull returns, him resting his head on your shoulder and you continuing to watch over the stew. Teal eyes on you and your eyes on the stove. Until your shoulders raise with a deep inhale. 
“Go get changed out of that wet shirt then set the table, this bastardized version of ‘soup’ will be ready in 20 minutes.” You reach for a skillet just off to the side. 
He hums this time, the liberation from treading in suffocating lull tugs at the end of his lips. He surmises that laying his head against you for a few moments more won’t be so consequential. 
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The patter of raindrops still splattered against the glass panes of the window, drops which warped and blurred the scenery beyond the glass. Not that there’s any scenery to look at, not with the dreary clouds crowding the sky. 
A heavy sigh huffs through your nose, curling onto your side as you adjust your pillow. 
A filling dinner, a warm shower, and soft comforters. Factors that should contribute to a restful night’s sleep, or at the very least make your eyelids weary with the weight of lethargy.
Yes, perhaps those components should’ve granted you entry into the reprieve of a dream. 
If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve intruded into the domain of slumber twice already today. 
And the tempter who lured you to do so currently has his arm wrapped around your waist. 
Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, soundly asleep without an ounce of guilt over the predicament he’s partly responsible for. 
Lifting your head off the flattened pillow, your body twists around to fluff the stale stuffing back up before settling back to your position.
His body rested against yours just as it would any other night. But there’s a weight at the corners of your lips, one only grew heavier as your ears witnessed each content exhale resounding from the man who seemingly stole your sleep. 
If you were crueler, you would’ve exiled Alhaitham to the couch or his barren mattress. 
However, he’d probably sleep just fine regardless. 
Canting your head up, you flip your pillow to the other side once more. 
Your rolls and rhythm were abruptly interrupted by the clasp of two harsh hands pulling your hips into his, the contours of his rigor now digging into the plush of your ass. Forcing a stunned gasp up your throat.
“It seems like my wife has quite a bit of energy.” His timbre deeper from grogginess. 
Ah, all the twisting and turning you did just to adjust the troublesome pillow must've disturbed him. 
The softness of your ass cradled against his pelvis through the thin material of a button-down, an item borrowed from his closet that you’ve designated as sleepwear, and his sweatpants. 
‘Serves him right.’ 
Your attempts to twist out from his iron-clad hold only ground your ass more against the stiffness, earning a grumble from his lips. 
“Oh? And who’s fault is it?” You retort, still protesting in his hold. 
Snaking one hand downwards Alhaitham presses against your lower stomach to arch your ass further into him. Leaning his face closer to yours. 
“Do you want me to take responsibility?” His whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.
You could feel the pads of his fingertips tracing under the loose button-down.
“Shouldn’t you resolve the issues you’ve caused?” A huff leaves you.
The outline of his shape pressed along your skin, the plushness of your bottom contrasting against the rigidity. 
“I can say the same to you.” 
The pads of his fingers trail up your heated skin, crawling along your torso, feathering touches alighting your senses like sparks. Massaging the tired yet restless muscles. You sigh in contentment.
The billowing button-down dragged up by his vascular hand, unveiling your skin to the cool sheets. Wandering touches slow as they rest in the valley of your breasts. His fingers enclose around one mount, gently twisting the defenseless nipple.
“H-hey! Hmph-“ Barely catching a moan before it fled past sealed lips. 
“Hm?” His lips are now right next to your ears. “Surely you foresaw this, I’m just helping my wife with all her excess energy.”
His forgotten hand made its presence known as it kneaded your hips, cunning touches breaching under the feeble defenses of your panties. Effortlessly brushing them to the side, long fingers encroaching closer to their destination. 
Your thighs react, squeezing together to prevent him from venturing further. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, for his fingertips already dipped into an all too familiar sap.
“See, you seem quite eager,” he taunts.
Stubbornly, your body attempts to buckle away from his influence. Face firmly pointed away from his lest he peeks at your heated cheeks. 
Alhaitham abandons the perch on your breast, two large hands attempting to tame the bucks and rolls of your hips. He releases a slow sigh into the crook of your neck. 
“Are you not feeling it tonight?” His hands remain where they were, but the strength missing.
At the lack of resistance, your hips seem to have lost interest in their writhing, staying within his yielding hold. Internally, you chiding your body for being so straightforward. The only thing blocking an answer from exiting your throat was that fickle ego of yours. 
“Won’t you allow me to make up for my blunders today, wife?” He soothes his hand along your leg.
With that stubborn ego of yours still biting down on your tongue, you simply nod your head. Feeling the heat of your cheeks reflected to you by the pillow. 
Permitting your thighs to give into the tow of his grasp. Allowing the grip of one large hand to pull your bent leg open, exposing your vulnerable cunt. Shielded from the view of the raindrops by a mere blanket. 
The hand snaked under your waist took swift advantage of the oppurtunity. Sliding one firm finger down to part the fold of your slit as his warm hand cups your greed. 
Alhaitham continued with the caresses of his fingers. Your lashes and lips pressed tightly shut, your leg still held in his tender hold. His slow breaths brush ghosting your skin. 
He spreads the slick along your slit, the tips of his fingers ever so often knocking against the bud at the very top. Teal eyes catch the sudden jolts of your body every time it happens. 
He moves his fingers downwards, slowly parting the now soft folds of your core. Feeling the subtle puckers of your entrance as his touch traced closer, more wetness dribbling out from the honeypot. 
The tip of his finger now encircles the fluttering hole. Your hip subtly bucked into his hand, as if to lure him in a soundless plea. 
Breaths getting deeper as your eyes follow his touch, the warm pad of his index finger twirling against your clit. Stoking a burgeoning fire with each slow circle. Your placid sighs fill the lull. 
His middle finger ventures past the entrance of your satin walls welcomed with a lewd squelch. Curling his finger against slick walls to test the give, he wonders if this hidden oasis is etched into his shape yet.
Diligently, his digit continues to sink in and out of your weeping hole, making your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip. The squelches increased in volume as trickles of nectar began pooling on the sheets. Walls clamping around a lonely finger, it wasn’t enough to quell that mounting heat within. 
A second deft finger joined in, sliding past a hungry entrance. A tangled dance amongst gummy walls as they curled and stretched the space. The lewd squelches resounding in your ear, a whimper trapped in your throat. The heel of his warm palm now pressed flat against the soft mound of your cunt, every movement of his hand resulting in a grind against your clit. 
Each grind causes a hot flash to shock throughout your body, starting from your curled toes to the very top of your head. The jostling of your hips and legs gradually expels the blanket off the bed. 
“Mmph!” A whine from a sudden surge of bliss when his thick fingers curled against a spongy patch deep within. 
“T-there! More there!”
Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. 
He gladly obliges. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls. Ensuring to grind against that spongey patch.
 Your body twitches and flails in reaction. Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. 
Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.
Piqued by the sweet tune, Alhaitham watches the scrunch in your trembling brows. He repeats his actions, another mewl leaves your lips as your head leans further into his shoulder.
The mellow pace of his fingers suddenly amps up, retreating out only to clap back in as his palm presses into the twitching bud. 
“Ah! Haitham.”
A pressure mounting up, a sirens call beckoning you closer and closer to a hazardous cliff’s edge. The only foundation for your sanity is thousand-count fabric, thus you twist the silk fibers as tremors overtake your body.
Walls clamping down to trap his thick digits inside as it spasms. Muscles tensing and quivering as your back arches away from his chest, parted lips with nothing choking past them. 
Three thick fingers sink deeper into your pussy without a hint of resistance, as a reward he makes sure to roll your overstimulated clit in firm circles with his palms. Judging from the violent tremors in your legs, it seemed you were almost there. 
Just at the cusp of rapture when your hand tangles into his ashen-locks, canting your head back so that your panting lips could capture his. Alhaitham returns to gesture with just as much fervor in his kiss, swallowing down your sweet mewls for himself. 
With a singular gasp, the siren’s call had beckoned your sanity to drown in the murky depths. It’s as if you lost control of your body to the possession of pleasure.
Eyes rolled back and lips broke away as breathy moans escaped the prison of your throat, a haze heavy over your thoughts, pride long lost amongst the gale of an orgasm. 
The beckoning depths of euphoria welcome your descent. 
Your limp frame rests against him. A light layer of sweat coating your panting chest, blurred vision merging and blending the details of the ceiling above the bed.
Alhaitham coaxes the contractions of your core, riding out the waves of their squeezes and sucks against his fingers. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Entranced by the glimmering string of nectar stretching between his fingers and your oasis. 
Trailing back up to your face, he notes the return of your hazy irises from their ogle of the bedroom ceiling. 
“Better?” Teal gaze watching the pants of your chest as they steady. 
‘No, not at all’, a statement just at the tip of your tongue, but your lips were busy attempting to grasp deep breaths. The surplus of vigor festering into unquenchable desire. To be closer, deeper, more. You needed more. 
Where words fail, action must take its place. Even before your mind finishes up the scheme brewing within, your lips catch him off guard, plush lips embracing his in a tender waltz.
Your body rolls back so that your breast can press against his chest through the thin fabric of his stolen shirt.
At the tender caress of your kiss, teal eyes disappear behind ashen lashes, the clasp of his grip loosening. Allowing you the mobility to finally pull your body on top of his, lips never once parting until you were finally settled atop his broad body.
A certain stiffness makes its reintroduction against your roused clit.
Breaking the seal of the kiss as a line of salvia stretches between your tongues, arms pushing against his firm chest to prop your body up as you gaze down at him.
“Still have too much energy?” Haughty eyes peer into yours, yet you can see the ardor oh so thinly concealed behind the brilliant teal. 
“What do you mean? Aren’t you the eager one?” You hum, rolling your hips against the rigidness trapped behind the prison of sweatpants.
“Hmm.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth. 
Large hands feel down along the plumpness of your ass as they drag a flimsy bit of fabric down your thighs. Daintier hands pull down the hem of sweatpants and briefs. 
A fair exchange. Him helping you out of those ruined panties, and you freeing him from a compressed prison of cloth. Discarded and forgotten along the floorboards as the fog of passion obscured them from further consideration.
His vascular hands slide down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs plant themselves on either side of his body. Alhaitham coaxes the hem of his stolen button-down just above your midriff. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your clit, glistening with temptation. 
Lowering your hips a breathy sigh leaves his lips and yours as the ridges of his cock drag against your slick folds. A few slow rolls starting from his leaking tip sliding down, thick veins skimming against your swollen clit. Precum mixing with arousal in a sinful concoction along his length. 
Perhaps he should convince you to participate in more naps if he knew it’d make you this excitable. 
“Oh,” you hum aloud, pausing your hips as you reach over to the bedside table.
Pulling open the drawer and rustling about a box followed by the crinkling of foil. Holding up the corner of the packet to your lip, tearing the foil while your gaze held his. Taking your time in dragging the condom out from its package. Easing it down his length while your fingers traced along, feeling each twitch and shudder. 
“You sure do know how to test my patience.” 
“Hmm?” You feign innocence. 
A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Alhaitham helps position his engorged tip at your dripping entrance. Your hand guides him while raising your hips.
Other hand pressing his chest down for support as your thighs sink back down, a shameful squelch accompanying heavy breaths as your walls welcome his cock’s fat head.
Weeping pussy engulfing his girth in bit by bit until you clit kisses his pelvis. Sending jolts of searing pleasure that caused your satin walls to twitch and tighten. 
Releasing a breathy sigh as you gather your senses.
Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge before dropping back down. Earning low grunts and sighs each time your satin walls swallowed his girth. The rhythm of your hips is paced and controlled despite how Alhaitham’s fingers dug into your skin. 
A whine living your drooling lips with each slap of his skin against your clit. Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. The bedframe creaks with each calculated movement, back and forth, back and forth the wood sings along. 
Your head was light, intoxicated by a feverish potion of lust and desire. Feeling him reach the deepest depths, fat tip grinding against those spots which made your legs falter momentarily each time.
Utilizing the strength of both your arms now to support yourself. However, the jolts of pleasure that shot up your spine with each roll of your hips were too maddening to stop. 
His calloused fingers massage circles into your hips. Squeezing the plush flesh to ground his sanity, watching your lewd face as you shamelessly bounced on him for your pleasure. Observing the subtle ripples with each slap of your hips and the jumps of your perky breast. 
The ghostly touches of your fingers skim across his lips, prompting his eyes to connect with yours. Lush and glossy lips parted with your deep pants as your lust-hazed eyes peer down at him, unspoken plea inscribed within them. Who is he to not fulfill your desires?
Lurching his upper body up, he answers your plea, capturing your lips with his. Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. A messy and feverish tangle as if to replace the air in your lungs with his. 
Mewls and whimpers muffled by his skin, your hands moving to perch themselves on his broad shoulders. Your quivering legs grew limp as the strength of his hands took over. Barely processing the sweet nothings whispered as your core relishes in the fullness. Like an ache that’s been finally satisfied. 
He wondered if tonight’s excessive vigor was fraying his control, or if your body was just this addictive. 
By now any notion of decency and integrity has long left you, your hand clawing into his shoulders, marking him with the scars of rapture. A harsh thrust of his hips recoils through you, a wanton moan reverbing off the walls as it forces your tangled lips to part. 
Tongue unable to produce anything other than strained moans, your head nods into his broad shoulder as your hips ground against his. The wet squelch announces the reciprocation of your walls. 
The intervals of those unrelenting rams increasing between the tender thrusts, half-lidded eyes trained on the shivers of your body. Cock sliding against satin ridges of your wall. Grunts and pants reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open. 
“Is this not enough?” You could feel the mirth in his whisper. 
Closer, deeper, more. You want more. Walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming heat within you. Hips floundering in harmony with breathy mewls. 
Pressing libidinous kisses along his throat feeling the vibrations of his grunts and pants, a deep chuckle was soon felt against your lips.
“Good grief you are a greedy little thing aren’t you.” 
A deafening slam of skin resounds through the heavy air, swiftly followed by another and another. A new tempo in this waltz of passion takes over like a wave sweeping both of you out to a sea of indulgence.
Possessed by the desperation of chasing a white light, your hand rakes deeper into his toned arms. Seizing anything to prevent your mind from abandoning your sinful body as his girth twitches within your velvety folds. 
Sanity like a foolish sailor who’s beckoned by the lure of a siren’s voice, uncaring of the rocks which will sink them to the very bottom of the bemused tides. Keening against your husband shamelessly, a shameless wife on the cusp of her second fall into ecstasy. 
The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into the spark that lit your nerves alight. Toes arched into the air and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent babbles resounding through the room. 
Your devious walls clamped around his dick with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling against his girth eager to quell your aching greed. It was too much. 
His fingers claw into your soft hips, pressing your cunt flush against his hips with a sloppy slap of skin. The bulbous tip prodding against that weakness deep within you. Bruising grip holding your body in place as his lips crash back into yours.
Swallowing down his breathless groans with your sweet mewls and praddles.
A heat is spilled into the rubber, making your greedy walls quiver amidst the aftershocks of ecstasy. Alhaitham’s hips twitch with each subsequent rip of his orgasm, thrusting his length further into your crowded cavity with each one. The filthiness of it all prolongs your sinful depravity. 
Chest expanding with pants, your lopsided shirt falling further down your shoulder. Your eyes return from seeing blinding white, exhaustion drenching each fiber of your body.
Limp figure crumbling against your husband as his back lays back on the creaking headboard. Even before your worn mind could conjure a coherent thought, your hands caress his starlight tresses. 
As his own breath evades him Alhaitham releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your smoldering skin, guiding your lips back to his. 
Basking in the warmth forged between your bodies, between drumming heartbeats and breathless lungs. 
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Two bodies lay under silken sheets, skin freshly wiped clean of sweat as the crisp breeze brushed against the curtains gradually erasing the sinful haze. The cool air aids your rising and falling chest to pace itself. 
Muscles and bones heavy with fatigue, yet your eyes couldn’t bring themselves to retire behind shut lids. Not when those dreary clouds have finally retreated. 
The moon hangs high in the sky, finally free from the shroud of rain clouds, she sits among the twinkling dots. Twinkling dots were in actuality brilliant stars, some even larger and brighter than the beloved sun. 
Glimmering lustrously as they traverse through the contentious vacuum of space and past other nameless stars. A scene from a late-morning market trip wanders its way back from the depths of your memory, bringing its musings with it.
“Something on your mind?” A timbre voice beckons your conscious mind back from its trek.
Teal eyes set upon yours as your heads rest on plush pillows, just a breath away from one another.
“Hm, just senseless musings.” Your gaze shifts away from the window. 
In a changed world with millions of hands will your hands and his find each other to make two pairs of hands?
In a different time with a million pairs of legs, will your steps and his steps still coincide in time with each other 
In a new life with a sea of new faces, will a stoic face and another stoic face spot each other in the crowd? 
What is the likelihood of those odds? 
“If you keep letting your thoughts fester, it’ll only bring trouble upon yourself in the morning from sleep deprivation.” He shifts his position, supporting his cheek on his fist as he stares down at your face. 
You sigh because he spoke exactly what those whispers of rationale were urging you, but the scoffs of pride had deemed these rampant inquiries ‘childish’. However, it’s a bit hard to avoid his eyes now. 
“I was just musing about the soulmates concept again,” you confess. 
Alhaitham hums in curiosity. 
“Do you…” You take a deep breath, forcing the hard-to-vocalize question from your tongue. “Do you think we’ll only be together in this life?” 
He’s silent. Just the muted chorus of Summer crickets rejoicing over the conclusion of a rainstorm resounding through the space.
“In a different time, a different universe, or the next life, do you think we’ll be soulmates again?” You muster together the courage to peer up at his face. 
“I don’t recall ever reading an article or paper related to this topic, so it’ll be convoluted to get an answer.” He brings his other hand to his face, signifying his musings. 
Right, there isn’t even a definitive answer for what happens after life passes, an afterlife, a cycle, or nothing, no one knows. Was this the only universe where life exists or are there infinitely many far out there in the stars? Does anyone know?
Your hand pulls your blanket up to your face, partially to cover the growing shame creeping up your face. That haughty voice within was right, these baseless questions are silly and childish. Perhaps even too morbid to bring up so unprompted on this weekend night. 
What were you expecting Alhaitham to even do? Did you want him to give you an answer? What can he even do? A question you can’t even begin to understand, why would you even expect him to have some solution prepared? 
What to do now? Can you just take back your previous words from his memory, so he’ll just forget what you said? Maybe just ask him to quell any more mindless musings from plaguing you tonight by placing his lips on your forehead? So that you could finally drift into the realm of slumber. 
However, is that temporary solution enough? Enough to stifle the contentions and riddles clattering together into a clamorous ruckus in your head? Could sleep even spare you from their tumult? 
“The Membrane Multiverse Theory or reincarnation, hm, do you have any personal theories you’d like to share?” The sensation of his fingers grasping yours brings you back to reality. 
Glancing at him with a quirk in your brow, you wait for him to continue. 
“Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first to publish something for this topic.” His thumb runs along your knuckles. 
“So, is there a speculation or possible rationale you feel particular to?” Teal eyes reconnect with yours. 
“Well…” You sigh, relishing in the warmth of his hand as you concoct a half-baked theory. 
“There’s stardust from stars that had burst billions of years ago, that have somehow ended up on this planet. Subsequently, every being on earth has the atoms of stars in them. So, naturally by the law of conservation, the earth is where the atoms of the human body will return.”
“Based on the law that atoms cannot be created or destroyed?” He drones. 
“Yes, they all had to come from something before them. The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood. The atoms that make up you and I might become part of something else, or even of different people too.” 
“Hm, that sounds probable.”
“But, then this brings up a whole new host of questions, such as, if the new people our atoms become a part of are even ‘us’? Will they ever meet? What if you become a tree and I a rock? What if the atoms of you end up on one side of Teyvat and I on the other end?”
You peer into his irises, but you were just searching for an answer that isn’t there. 
For his beryl irises were impassive. But it was the impassive foundation you needed to ground your rambling thoughts and nonsensical musings into the desolate truth of it all.
The warmth of his hand slips away.
“Never mind, I suppose it’s the most logical to conclude that we’re just soulmates in this instance of time, in this universe, and only here.” Your hand closes over the empty space he left. 
Maybe it’s wise to dismiss it as silly rambling and then withdraw from his indecipherable eyes. Is it too late to put this plan into motion now?
The weight of a muscular arm is draped over your waist, hand pulling you closer unlike your ploy to escape. 
“But I have a few theories I haven’t shared yet.” He glances out toward the bedroom window. 
“While the theory of reincarnation currently doesn’t have any solid scientific backing, in some way, the law of conservation of mass does give a bit of merit to that notion.” Alhaitham draws circles into the small of your back. 
You hum in response. 
“The atoms that created us will return to the earth after us and become a part of something or someone else’s molecular structure. A tree or a rock, a human or a beast, it’s all probable. However…” Beryl eyes return to meet yours. 
“What’s stopping them from repeating the same molecular structures as right now?” He asks. 
Maybe it was his turn to peer into your eyes to search for an answer, an answer currently brewing and forging between your united gazes. 
“What’s stopping these atoms from returning to these exact molecular structures in the future? In a different time, the atoms of us now could one day in the far future come together again and make ‘us’ once more. Maybe just you, maybe just me, or maybe both at the same time.” 
He frees his other hand from the duty of supporting his head, broad body settling down into the bed and blankets, allowing his face to move closer to your level upon his pillow. 
“What’s the likelihood of those odds? Me and you again?” You ask. 
Alhaitham pauses. All the bright minds of science, mathematics, and physics, have yet to come up with a formula to calculate such a thing.
What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it even be?
The ashen-haired man wasn’t sure, but there was at least a statistical observation that would provide some basis. 
“A true 0% chance is an absolute impossibility, just as nothing can be proven absolutely 100%. Since we don't know the absolutes of time, existence, or physics. So, there’ll always be a non-zero chance.” Feeling the drums of your heartbeat against his chest. 
“Then, when they do, I think I’ll spend my life pondering what could fit into the spaces between my fingers like this.” He slips his hand into the gaps of yours, intertwining them. 
Then finally, he saw the smile he’d been yearning for rising on your lush lips. The ends of your eyes crinkle as it make its way to your irises as well. Your grip mirrors his as you nestle your face closer to his. 
“You won’t get tired of this stoic face?” You taunt.
“Will you get tired of mine?” He counters. 
Your shoulders quiver with stifled giggles. 
“No, no I won’t,” you promise him. 
“Then I won’t,” he promises back. 
His larger hand brings yours closer to himself, all the while your attentive eyes watch failing to keep the curl of your lips under control. 
“Any thoughts on the Membrane Multiverse Theory? How will your astute mind surmise the possibility of us laying like this somewhere else in the stars?” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe as your face inches closer.
“I believe I’ve shared enough, I’d much rather hear what your brilliant postulate is.” His tone casted with mirth, but the bite missing from teal eyes. 
Letting a soft hum, your mind rifling through all the paragraphs and journals your hands had ever thumbed through.
The soft rhythm of his breaths kept time. Stringing the words together on your tongue, you hope this monologue of yours will provide some amusement for him. 
“If universes are randomly put into 2 boxes of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, then on average the number of universes in each box would be the same. For every universe I’m not with you, there’ll be equally as many where I am with you.” 
A coin toss, perhaps it was all just a coin toss after all. Whether or not the Akasha paired a stoic face with another stoic face, for the gaps of your fingers to fit his so perfectly.
It could have all been a coin toss, for one half to stumble upon the other half cruelly parted from them by the hands of unseen gods. 
“Something akin to a bijection existing between both sets of universes?” He cross-examines. 
“Maybe… If we were to assign one type ‘yes’ to a positive integer, and the other type ‘no’ to a negative integer, then perhaps we can construct a bijection from the positive and negative integers.” Your brow furrows in contemplation. 
“If we submit this theory do you think the Akademiya would publish it?” 
“Not likely, bijections are usually made between sets of elements like numbers, not sure if bijections can be applied to something like whole universes. I’m just hypothesising nonsense,” you sigh.
“But they did publish the nonsense known as The Lifespan of Love,” he interjects. 
“Hm, then maybe there’s a non-zero chance they’ll publish our nonsense too.” You stifle a scoff. 
“Hm,” Alhaitham hums in amused agreement. 
His free hand pulls the covers further up over your frame then smoothing out the wrinkles. Observing the growing delays between your slowing blinks.
“Only you and I would turn pillow talk into an academic deliberation.” You couldn’t hold back the giggle any longer. 
He sighs in agreement, nestling his head closer to yours on the plush pillows, teal gaze never once leaving yours. 
“It’ll make any romantic keel over and die from how dry it is, wouldn’t it, Haitham?”
“I say let them.” 
Scoffing and shaking your head at his crude declaration as a yawn slips past your lips, a conclusion to this nonsensical academic deliberation.
With one hand still intertwined in the tender grasp of another you pull Alhaitham closer. So that the spaces of your body could lay against the spaces of his. 
The warmth of his skin mingling with the warmth of yours, pressed against one another. You drawing mindless shapes into his back, his hand tracing senseless ruins into yours.
Perhaps, an illogical attempt to echt memories into the stardust in your bodies. 
So he and you could imprint the memory of each other into the very fibers of your beings. Then maybe someday when these atoms return to these exact molecular structures, they’ll remember this too. 
The law of conservation of mass, the probabilities upon probabilities, and bijections used in an inconsequential pseudo-academic ramblings to no one but an audience of silent stars.
Alhaitham’s certain no academic publisher would spare a glance at them. 
But this nonsensical instance in the continuum of time, feeling the rhythm of your heart on the other side of his chest next to his own, is his most precious epiphany. 
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
Note
slightly odd request but i’ve LOVED cold tonight and the others in the mini series and i was wondering if you could write something where reader gets into a disagreement with the caption wife of a politician snow HATES and reader does everything correct and is ‘well behaved’ for snow so when he gets her home she sort of breaks down in concern he’ll punish her and she’s worrying he’s mad at her but instead he just comforts her and tells her how good she is etc etc , maybe some praising smut if you fancy ? totally ok if it’s not your cup of tea !!!!
bitter cold |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested above :)
contains: alludes to dom/sub themes but not super heavy. possessive, dark snow. reader gets hurt (not by snow). slight smut at the end but not super graphic.
“Mrs. Snow,” The snarl in her tone, you could practically picture the baring teeth, lips pursed in a forced smile that resembled more of a grimace waiting behind you; Cypher Crane. 
You turned, a polite smile on your lips- years of training. These dinners weren’t new to you by any means. You had grown up attending numerous socialite events such as this, only now, you were the President’s wife. 
“Cypher,” You greeted the brunette woman with a clenched grin. “Lovely to see you.” 
“Yes,” She hissed, eyes trailing down your figure, over your outfit with a flare of her nose in disapproval. “I’m sure it is.” 
You winced, sucking in a breath. And so it begins, you thought. Cypher was your age, you’d grown up going to school together, school yard friends even, at one point. Until you married Coriolanus. Since the death of her elder sister, Arachne, the entire Crane family had blamed Coriolanus. It was his idea that they go see the tributes, and therefore his fault she died. It never bothered Corio, he’d roll his eyes and wave it off, “The family is grieving. Let them blame me if it makes them feel better.” He’d scoff. Still, it upset you, their constant provoking. 
You cleared your throat lightly, scanning the room for Coriolanus on the other end, desperate to be away from Cypher, the tension already too much. “If you’ll excuse me, my husband needs me-” 
“-No, I need to have a word with you.” Cypher blocked your step easily, clutching her champagne flute. Your heart hammered, trying to stay calm, cool. 
“About?” You lifted a brow, tone lifting to stay light and casual- unbothered, hoping you would stay the same. 
“The games,” Her eyes narrowed, lips fixing in a tight line. 
Your heart dropped. Corio had made a number of changes to the games. Alongside Dr. Gaul, the two were working to gain more and more viewers. His first games, and he wanted them to be perfect. The changes had been announced to the sponsors council only a few days prior. You were sure that was why Cypher wanted to talk to you.
“Your husband,” Her words drenched in venomous disgust. “Made changes to the games.” You sucked in a breath as she took a step closer to you. “To the tributes.” 
Your eyes darted around. Where were your friends? Where was Corio? Tigris? Anyone to help you. 
“Yes, he has.” You nodded, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. “Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus thought it best that the tributes be welcomed and celebrated for their sacrifices-” 
“-I fucking know what he said.” Cypher snapped, her voice bouncing off the marble of the room, catching the attention of the guests around you- maybe the whole room. You were too scared to look, truthfully. Coriolanus’ icy, curious gaze had found yours, brows furrowed. 
“I was there when this ridiculous idea was presented, and quite frankly I’m surprised at you.” Cypher sneered, finger jabbing dangerously close towards your face. “Your own daily endorsing this-this monstrosity. Treating tributes as heroes? Funding new trains and tearing down the tribute zoo? Giving them this pedestal to parade around on?” 
“Darling,” Coriolanus’ tone was tight, it made your heart skip. You looked at him, eyes rounded in fear, pinned against the wall. Cypher close to you, Coriolanus behind her. “Is everything alright?” You knew he was upset about the commotion, the improperness of it. 
Your words jumbled in your mouth, fumbling over a calm, collected response. Cypher never turned, never moved, kept her furious gaze on you. “You know my sister was killed by one of those tributes?” Cypher sneered. 
The room stilled, Coriolanus’ eyes falling to you. You weren’t sure what to do, uncomfortable and a little frightened. “You do know it, and now you want to reward them? Reward the rebellion? That’s what you’re doing aren’t you?” 
“No.” You shook your head. “No, never, I- we would never-” 
“-Liar!” Cypher roared, lunging at you. She shoved you against the wall, your head smacking the heavy marble, wincing through clenched vision, waiting for the strike. 
Instead, Coriolanus had her, arms wrenched around her shoulders, shoving her with such force to the ground before the Peacekeepers drug her away. “You killed my sister! You did, Snow! And now you’re rewarding the ones who killed her! Her blood is on your hands, you rebels!” 
“Move,” Corio shoved the Avoxes out of the way, eyes scanning over your features furiously. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He whispered, jaw clenched in fear, maybe rage. 
“I-I’m alright.” You took a shaky breath, reaching to the back of your head, rubbing the forming knot. Corio’s grip tightened around you.
“Take her to my lab.” Gaul commanded the guards, bright eye wandering wickedly Coriolanus’ way. He nodded, lips pursed furiously, one arm around you. “Clear everyone out.” He commanded with a sharp jerk of his head. 
“Corio, I-I’m fine.” Your breath shuddered, gripping his arm to steady yourself. “Everyone doesn’t have to leave-” 
“-I’m taking you to be examined.” Coriolanus’ jaw was tight, pulling you down the Capitol’s steps with a fury. 
“I don’t need that, darling, I promise. I-I’m alright.” Your heart beat furiously. You had ruined his event. You knew how important this was, and you let it get out of hand. Now, Corio was furious, and why wouldn’t he be? 
“You need to be examined.” Coriolanus’ tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Instead, his hand wrapped tighter around your bicep, hauling you to the private wing of the Capitol’s mansion- your shared wing. 
You didn’t fight, sure if you opened your mouth, you might be sick. Instead you sat obediently, letting the doctor examine you, avoiding Coriolanus’ intense, watchful gaze on you. Your fate was sealed, you knew it. Knew that he was upset with you- that he’d punish you for such a display.
The doctor checked you, wrote it off as a mild concussion with orders to not sleep. Coriolanus’ response of “I will ensure of it,” in such a cutting, firm tone, made you shiver. 
The room was eerily still when the doctor left, just you and Coriolanus residing in your bedroom, a thick tension in the air. 
“How are you feeling?” You jumped at the sound of his voice, sharper than normal, though his brows were furrowed with something softer. Concern, perhaps? 
“I-I’m ok, Corio.” You swallowed your nerves, clutching the duvet of the bed. “Just an ache.” 
“How bad of an ache? You didn’t tell the doctor this.” Corio huffed, standing quickly, crossing the bedroom with a fury. 
“Corio, don’t. I’m fine.” You shook your head, moving off the edge after him.
 Coriolanus turned around, frowning at you. “You’re not supposed to be up.” He huffed, harsher than he meant to. “Sit down.” 
You flinched, scurrying back obediently. “I’m sorry. I-I just, I’m fine. I promise. I’m ok.” You stuttered, stomach dropping and twisting with fear. 
Corio paused, watching you with careful eyes. He’d written off your skittish behavior as fear from the situation, fear from being hurt. Now, he watched you cower before him, eyes peering at him the way those he executed did, trembling with pure horror. 
An unpleasant heaviness settled in his chest, sinking to his stomach. “My love,” Corio frowned, stepping towards you. “Are you alright?” 
“I’m ok, Corio, I promise. I-I’m just-just…” You looked at him, head turned down, curled into yourself. 
Coriolanus knelt in front of you, between your legs, taking your face into his hands gently, stomach lurching at the way you tensed. “What’s the matter?” He whispered, blue eyes scanning your face for a sign, any indication as to why you were so fearful. 
You hesitated, lip rolling between your teeth. You wanted to stay silent, be obedient and not further him any more. His gentle touches were lulling you, coaxing your own anxieties out of you. 
“Corio, I swear, I-I did not mean for that conversation to get out of hand as it did.” Your eyes met his gaze hesitantly. “I tried to excuse myself. I tried to de-escalate it, and-and move away, but she was so… determined.” 
Coriolanus waited, blinking, still in his own confusion. Your hands twisted in your own clammy grip. “I didn’t mean to ruin your event. I-I was just trying to be polite and-and it got out of hand-” 
“-I know that.” Coriolanus tilted his head gently. “Darling, this isn’t your fault.” 
“She approached me, and-and I should have walked away or-or called you over-” 
“-You did what you should have done.” Coriolanus said firmly, lips pressing together. “I need to know who is with me and who is against me. There are far too many rebels, unscared and ready to strike. Clearly, the Crane family is one and will be dealt with.” You shuddered at the sneer in his tone, the venomous threat ominous of what was to come for the Crane family, what Cypher was already experiencing in Gaul’s lab. 
“I wish that would have been done without her laying a hand on you,” Corio grit, anger flashing through those dazzling, blue eyes that had you swooning when their gaze met yours. “But, I can assure that will not be possible for her to do. Not for much longer.” 
Your grip tightened this time, clutching his hand fiercely, like a lifeline. “You’re not angry with me?” 
“I could never be.” Coriolanus shook his head. “You defended me, I heard you- others heard you.” His lips curled in a soft smile. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” 
You beamed under his praise, relaxing into his touch. Corio’s fingers brushed over your knuckles carefully. “Are you feeling ok?” He asked, softer now. A touch of… worry in his tone? 
“Yes,” You nodded, pressing your forehead to his, your noses touching. “It’s just an ache.” 
Coriolanus’ hand tightened in yours. “I should have her whole fucking bloodline removed for that. For putting her hands on you.” 
“Don’t.” You whispered, shaking your head gently. “She’s upset. She lost her sister.” 
“She’ll be losing more than that tonight, my darling, rest assured.” Corio hissed, that cloudy darkness seeping back into his gaze. “I will make sure of it.” 
You didn’t fight him, didn’t try to sway him. You didn’t want to upset him further, there was nothing that could change Cypher’s fate anyways. 
Instead, you let him dote on you. You let Corio’s fingers brush through your hair, parting your scalp, running lightly over the small knot there. His lips were soft, pressing a gentle kiss to the sore area, before replacing it with ice. He even held the ice pack in place when your arm got tired, like a true, doting husband. 
Your eyes would droop, a soft pat to your leg waking you, a stern stare that had you blushing bashfully, thighs pressing together. 
“You have to stay awake, my love.” Corio reminded with a soft grumble, rubbing your scalp gently. 
“So keep me awake.” You purred, pressing up on his chest lightly, body between his legs. Corio grinned, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you into him, lips hungrily devouring yours. He moved you gently into the goose feather pillows, lips dragging down your cheek, jaw, biting at your neck. He was so sweet to you, fucking you how you liked- on your stomach, his body folded on top of yours, hands intertwined, hot breath grunting and moaning into your ear.
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facefullofsadness · 2 months
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Could you do a giselle dom pervy step sister(female reader) smut where they don’t like each other at first but ig giselle found a way to turn that hatred into them fucking in secret while their parents are in the house
ANONNNN!!! YOUR MIND!!!! I've been thinking ab this ask for WEEKS and I finally have time to write about it omg obsessed
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content - stepcest, blackmail, smut (pervy!giselle, cunnilingus, fingering, face sitting, squirt, voyeurism/public(?) sex)
wc - 2739
a/n - catching up slowly but surely on asks, I have no school this week so imma try my best!
you never really warmed up to giselle.
you never really WANTED to ever warm up to her. she was mean, annoying, obnoxious, and greedy. I mean, how fucking self-centered do you have to be to make your baby stepsis call you by another name because she "doesn't deserve to call me by my real name" as giselle had said. what infuriated you was how pretty she was too. someone who was such a bitch shouldn't get the benefit of being attractive, especially since aeri knew and definitely used it to her advantage. whether it be to the people around her like friends, classmates, teachers, or even your parents, she finessed them like no one's business.
but she could never trick or fool you. you were a challenge to her, and it pissed her off not getting what she wanted. giselle HATED your guts. you were smart, sweet, cute, and generous, traits she simply was not. she hated how your guys' parents eyes' would light up in excitement when you came to them with an academic achievement, looking at you with admiration and love, eyes that would look at aeri with annoyance and disappointment.
aeri's not stupid, she knows why she's disliked, but she doesn't really care. it only really started to affect her seeing YOU be soooo liked by them. she simply hated you because you weren't easy, and you hated her because she saw everyone as easy. though, however much it upset you, it upset her to a degree you couldn't even imagine. she had to win the invisible game, and she was going to get her way with you, one way or another. so she devised a plan, which was to put simply, blackmail.
one day when you were gone at school, she set up a secret camera in your room facing your bed. she laid back on the living room couch in content, watching you come home from school, shooting each other a painfully fake greeting, before you ascended upstairs to your room. during nightfall, you would of course, fulfill your physical desires while everyone was asleep in the house, unaware of the recording device from across the room. and in the morning when you left, your wicked stepsis would sneak back in to retrieve the footage, playing it back and giggling to herself, knowing this would ruin you.
giselle's sweet baby stepsis, a sexual deviant during the after hours, shoving a huge dildo into her pussy to force multiple orgasms from her own body.
aeri was giddy with joy, now owning what single-handedly would win her the upper hand. the day continued as normal, but as you were about to go to sleep, there was a knock at your door. you rolled your eyes when you opened it to find a smug aeri, her phone in her hand with a play button over a still image of you in your room. your eyes shift between her and her phone confused before she pushes you inside and shutting the door behind her.
"what the fuck is that aeri?"
she huffs and sits comfortably at the end of your bed, "first of all, it's giselle to you, don't forget. second, how 'bout I show you?"
playing the video on max volume, your muffled moaning erupting from the small screen, watching a video of yourself masturbating. your ears ring and your cheeks flush, pouncing onto the older girl and trying to tear the phone away from her. your older stepsis is far stronger than you and easily you get overpowered, her hands pinning your wrists together and against the bed, her legs straddling either side of your lap.
with one large hand gripping your wrists together and the other hand hovering the still playing video against your face, she smirks, "what? shy? you weren't so shy last night when you were shamelessly fucking yourself, now were you? hm, y/n-ie? my sweet little sister?"
you grit your teeth and shake your head back and forth to deny the accusation, as if it weren't true. her dark chuckle fills your ears and the room, joined with the loud squelching of your pussy coming from the video. you feel tears start to well in your eyes and you plead with her.
"unnie, please... delete that!"
she coos at you, "awww sweetie, you think I'm that easy? not without a price, I won't."
you continue to plea in a desperate voice, "unnie please! I'll do anything! just please, delete it, or don't share it! anything you want!"
her lips curl into a sinister smirk that you can see even in the dark. you feel your heart drop to your stomach at the thought of what she must've suddenly imagined, immediately regretting your choice of words. before you could even consider opening your mouth to take back what you said, aeri drops the phone and covers your mouth.
"anything huh? will you behave for unnie and do anything I want?"
you debate shaking your head no, but when you hear a particularly loud moan come from the video playing next to your ear, you nod your head yes.
"good girl, you may be stubborn but you're not stupid. a little bit dumb for your choice of words though," she hums above you and trails the hand over your mouth downwards, dragging her long slim fingers across your sensitive body, jerking with every inch of contact she makes.
you whine as her fingers circle your hardening nipples and pinch them between her fingertips, giggling at how your body reacts to her touch.
"sensitive little baby, aren't you y/n-ie? fuck you're so cute, you shouldn't be so fucking cute."
aeri hated how much she was enjoying this almost as much as you did. she hated how cute her little sis was, writhing under her, eyes welling with tears in fear, body reacting to every subtle brush, thighs rubbing themselves together to suppress the ache at her core. and you hated it too, you hated that your older sister made you feel so fucking good, how her touch ignited flames in your stomach, how you panted into the air the more intimate her touch became, how you anticipated and needed more when you realized how disgusting this all was.
you both hated it, but you both couldn't get enough.
looking up into giselle's eyes at the same time she looked into yours, locking onto one another and gazing into lustfilled stares, the tension filling the air. the hatred boiled over and morphed into a new emotion, desire. a compromise emerged, and mentally, you both knew what it was. it all felt too good to want to stop, so you gave in.
leaning up and smashing your lips against aeri's, her immediately pushing back into you, pressing you down into your mattress. sloppy wet kisses loud and echoing through the room, both your moaning filling your ears and drowning out any possibility for moral dilemmas to pierce your mind. the hand pinning your wrists down, traveling up to hold your hand, interlacing her fingers through one and letting the other one go.
you let your free hand shoot into her hair, pulling her closer into you and shoving your tongue into her mouth, eliciting a whine to escape giselle's throat, accepting the intrusion. her other hand finds your thigh and brings it up, wrapping your leg around her waist and grinding her hips against your clothed core, making you both groan out into each other's mouths.
"fuck, you're good. why are you good?" she moans into your mouth.
"I'm not- a fucking- amateur." you pant out between kisses.
"yeah? then tell me, has anyone else made you feel this good?"
she questions, almost as a challenge, and you're scared to answer knowing it's just another piece of blackmail to hang over your head. you both already know the truth, obvious by your hips rutting back against her, your sweat dripping down your forehead, neck, and chest, your core aching with need, and your eyes blown to oblivion.
"fuck you," you answer instead.
she chuckles lowly again, the tone and vibration in your mouth when she does it making your pussy throb between your legs.
"not before I fuck you."
flipping you over and onto your hands and knees, tearing your shorts and panties off, throwing them to the ground. she wastes no time shoving your legs apart and licking along your leaking slit, making you moan out and bury your head into your pillows.
"you're so fucking sick, do you know that? being so wet and horny for your unnie like this, you disgusting little whore."
giselle says as if she's not soaked in her own clothes, nipples hard and hole clenching around air. she feels so powerful, so in control, and it feels so good to have you whining under her. sticking her tongue out and getting to work immediately, dragging her wet muscle greedily and swiftly against your pussy, drinking in all of your slick. muffling your moans into your pillows and clawing at your sheets hard enough to rip them.
her strong grip on both of your legs forcing you to keep them apart, slapping your ass every so often and making you scream out into the pillow. her tongue moves around your core so fucking good, alternating between sucking and flicking at your clit to thrusting and licking inside of your cunt, the sounds unbearably sinful and delightful to especially aeri's ears. she's drunk, on the taste and feel of your pussy, the way your body reacts, and the muffled cries being torn from your mouth.
she closes her eyes and relishes in your delicious juice swishing around her mouth, moaning into your pussy at how fucking good it feels to have you like this. her core aches and throbs so painfully, she clenches her thighs to hold it in. she lands another slap on your ass before shoving three fingers into you, already starting with an unforgivable pace, curling them and finding that spot in you easily. you scream and claw at the sheets, almost assuredly knowing your pillow wasn't muffling your cries anymore, not like either of you cared. aeri was going insane and felt herself becoming more and more addicted to you. addicted to ruining you, addicted to having power over you, addicted to owning you.
with the arch of your back and body stilling, you gush cum all over your stepsister's face, thighs trembling and chest heaving, moans slipping out of your mouth like a waterfall, your pussy mimicking the motions of one too. giselle drank all of it, everything, licking all over your leaking cunt and wiping her face of it too, sucking her fingers dry to not leave a single drop wasted.
she didn't even let you rest as she flipped you over onto your back, quickly stripping of her pajamas and lingerie, before climbing up to your face, her thighs resting on both sides of your head.
"use your tongue for something useful, pervy slut."
pfft, hypocrite.
she gives you no time to respond or think before shoving her fat pussy into your mouth which you immediately start to drag your tongue all over, coating it in her slick. your hands grip her juicy thighs and you dig your nails into them, her wincing above you and gripping the headboard with one hand, the other hand in her mouth to muffle her sounds.
you never rip your eyes away from her face for even a second, obsessed with how much sheer pleasure rests on giselle's face, her mouth biting down on her hand, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and eyes clamped shut. your nose hits her clit repeatedly with your tongue buried deep inside her cunt, flicking it to stimulate inside her tight walls. she tastes so fucking divine, cum directly entering your mouth and your spit drooling out the sides of your lips.
her hips quicken and she fully rests her weight on your face which makes you delighted, drinking her up and pulling her in, suffocating between her thighs. not that it mattered, you loved it. you couldn't breathe but you pushed through, thrusting your tongue in her and maneuvering her hips as her clit hit the tip of your nose.
"drink my squirt you little bitch, take it! don't waste a drop! fuck!"
she demands you as she cums in your mouth, her pussy squirting onto your tongue. her thighs shake in your hands and you close your eyes to avoid squirt getting in them. you feel like your drowning in the sheer amount of liquid coming from aeri's pussy, but you obey your sister, drinking everything that slides down your throat. she finally calms down and you tap on her thighs in a panic, literally not able to breathe. she laughs above you and stays there, watching color drain from your face before she lifts herself up, watching you cough and gasp for air.
"sick fuck," she says before smashing her lips against yours' and digging her tongue into your mouth again.
suddenly, she pulls away and gets dressed, picking up her phone and waving at you with that infuriating smirk on her face as she opens the door and leaves, "see you again, baby sis!"
and from then on that's when it started, fucking your step sister in secret. at first it was only at night, every night since the first time. then it progressed to whenever your parents were out of the house, fucking on the couch in the living room, on the kitchen island, in the shower, in each other's rooms. at some point, she started to get more flirty with you, her touches lingering for too long when she held your hips in the kitchen to move past you or sliding her hands up your shirt when she'd greet you with a hug when you came home from school, whispering an "I missed you" into your ear, her breath against it making a shiver go down your spine, which always drove you insane.
at some point though, giselle couldn't give less of a fuck if your parents were home or not, she just wanted to fuck you. your family would be having a movie night in the living room and you'd go to the kitchen to get more snacks, the older girl following you to "help." then she'd pin you to the kitchen counter and slip her fingers down your underwear, dipping them into your already wet pussy.
"really y/n-ie? you're fucking wet? were you eye fucking me all night that you couldn't help yourself get horny? let me help you with that baby."
she would whisper breathily into your ear before fingering you right then and there, you clutching the popcorn bag in your fingers and biting down on your lip, trying so hard not to moan and get caught, thankful the movie was loud enough.
or during a dinner party WITH YOUR RELATIVES, she would "accidentally" drop a spoon on the ground and go to retrieve it, only to separate your thighs and trail a long tortuous lick across your exposed pussy, aeri having demanded you to wear nothing under. you're suddenly gripping your utensils and coughing on the food in your mouth, acting like it went down your throat wrong. your sister climbing back up from under the table with a lost spoon and a smile.
and of course, she fingered you under the dining table that night too, your face red and physically incapable of eating for about twenty minutes, clutching her forearm as you came around her fingers in front of everyone. you had bit down on your lip so hard, blood had started dripping down your chin and onto your dress, excusing yourself to clean up. panting out of breath in your room and ripping the dress off of you, your sister following behind you and pinning you to your bed with a smirk.
"that was impressive baby, you were able to keep in all those delicious moans huh? well, don't you dare fucking keep them in now, they can't hear you from here, and we're not even close to finished."
smashing her lips against your blood stained ones, the taste of metal filling her mouth.
and while you're not sure if you're starting to like your sister or not, you definitely start getting used to it (maybe obsessed).
a/n - the other night when I was looking at this ask, I suddenly had the urge to write a "rich girl aeri x reader fic where they both fucking despise each other and are just rich bitches until one night they both break from all the sexual tension and fuck in the back of aeri's car" fic... I'll get to work-
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variousqueerthings · 5 months
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the doctor being a part of the noble family has the energy of an addams family cousin -- imagines rose being in a school play and the doctor fixing up some gizmo to open up a tiny gap to some part of the universe where stars shine particularly brightly for midsummer night's dream, and accidentally almost levels the school by misjudging how close they are to this one very dense planet (people in the audience confusedly waving at aliens who are just as confusedly waving their tentacles back from a thousand years in the future a million light years away. everybody afterwards talks about the great special effects, but they're not sure what it has to do with the story)
people trying to figure out who this "the doctor" person is and why he's living with the nobles, and always trying to catch out that there's something going on, but the doctor's answers to all their inquiries are so lowkey bonkers as to bamboozle any further attempts (so where are you from again? oh just this place, well, I say place, planet, well, I say planet I don't actually know these days, but somewhere certainly... is Ipswich a place? how do you know mrs noble again? we travelled together for a bit, and then, well you know how it is when you get hit with a face full of radiation, ey *snort-laughs at his own joke* and what's your name again? doctor, the "the" is a pronoun, it can get confusing I know, but people on this planet choose their names all the time, you'll catch up)
just this house gremlin in a setup that nobody from the outside understands, toddling about, showing up at every event that rose has going for her, wearing little pride pins that might be partially for himself as well as for rose (gay??? one of those trans ones????), always seems to be talking about strange places that nobody has heard of but doesn't want to admit to, occasionally goes eerily still and unnerving around people who are cruel and mean, knows a lot about history, but peppers it with facts that can't possibly be true, gets on very well with shaun who always answers questions with "the doctor's part of the family, youknow?" they do not know, but at this point it's too rude to keep asking
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worldlxvlys · 2 months
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thinking of you
toxic! matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: smutt, p in v, orgasm denial, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation
a/n: the fic, as promised :)
based on these
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matt wasn’t too happy about those texts.
“you think it’s funny to run other girls off?” matt asked as he fucked me from behind, pushing my face into the pillows by my neck.
i moaned out in response, unable to form any real words.
he ran his hand along my ass before landing a harsh smack across the skin, leaving a sting in it’s wake.
“don’t even think you deserve to cum” he mumbled as he groped my ass.
“please, matt” i moaned as he leaned forward, pressing his chest to my back.
his hands wrapped around my front, holding me still while his hips thrusted into mine forcefully.
“matt, i’m close” i cried out as i clenched around him, causing him to pull out and rut his hips against my ass.
he let out a long groan as he shot his load onto my lower back. he pumped himself quickly, making spurts of his hot cum land on my ass and legs.
when he finished, he turned himself around and flopped onto the bed, landing on his back.
he glanced over at me with an amused expression, “that’s the exact spot she was in when i made her cum, ya know” he spoke cockily.
getting fed up with him, i hooked my leg over his waist to straddle him. i grabbed his wrists before he could react, pinning him down.
“why don’t you shut the hell up and put that mouth to good use” i spoke as i moved up his body and sat on his face.
he moaned into my heat in surprise before wrapping his hands around my thighs and getting to work.
he left light kitten licks against my folds, relentlessly teasing me. but i wasn’t having it.
“you ever planning on making me cum, or do i need to find someone else to do it?” i asked in a bored tone.
he pulled me down harder onto him, completely engulfing his mouth into my pussy.
he didn’t leave an inch of my wetness untouched as he explored my pussy with his mouth.
he pushed his tongue into my hole, making me jolt forward as it curled it inside of me.
“oh my fuck” i whispered as my orgasm hit me unexpectedly. my hips jerked up, but i wasn’t able to go anywhere as his arms remained locked around my thighs.
“m-matt, that’s-” he cut me off with a smack on the ass, making me moan out.
the aftershocks of my orgasm caused me to twitch on top of him, but he never stopped.
pushing my hands against his head, i tried to move away from him, but to no avail.
he pushed my hips to rock against his face, helping him to cover more of my pussy with his wet tongue.
i felt my second orgasm rapidly approaching as my mouth hung open. i ran my hands through his hair and tugged as hard as i could, eliciting a moan from him.
i looked down at him and as soon as i met his piercing gaze, i came on his face.
when he pulled away, his face was covered in my slick and his sweat.
“for the record” he started, licking my juices off of his lips, “ you were right. you’re the only person i’m ever thinking of ”
“oh i know, baby. i didn’t need the confirmation”
🌸🌸🌸🌸
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop
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gurugirl · 11 days
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Intuition | bfd!harry
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Summary: Harry's got a surprise for you.
A/N: It's been a while! Enjoy!!
Word Count: 3.4k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, fluff, breeding kink, age gap
Best Friend's Dad!Harry masterlist
Harry was up to something. You knew he was. You’d been around him long enough to know the signs that he was keeping a secret. He was trying to act normal. All lovey with lots of touches. He came home from work that evening with this look on his face like he had a secret he wanted to tell you but had to wait.
“What is it? What are you smirking about? I can tell you want to say something,” you poked his ribs after he got out of the shower and you stood next to him in the bathroom in front of the mirror.
“I’m not smirking,” he smirked.
“Yes, you are!” You laughed and pointed at his reflection in the mirror.
He licked his lips and tried to hide his smile but the dimples remained deep in his cheeks as he turned toward you and wrapped you in his arms. He was still damp after his shower. The towel around his waist tucked in well so it didn’t slide off when he moved his hands up your back and pulled your face to his, pressing his mouth against yours.
He was definitely hiding something. Trying to distract you. And the distraction did work eventually when he got your clothes off and tossed you in your bed and shut you up by making love to you.
“You want a baby? Yeah? Want to be a mommy, Y/n?” Harry was driving into you deep and then pulling out to his crown over and over again, long deep, slow strokes that had you at his mercy.
And you did want that. Harry’s divorce was finalized. It felt like it took so long and the stress that you two went through was difficult but it had been worth it. He was done with Mrs. Styles, who was going to be changing her last name back to her maiden name. You didn’t feel elated about it all, but it was nice to have that chapter over with. You’d never fully recover from the guilt of what you two had done but you couldn’t help that you’d fallen in love with him.
“Put a baby in me, Harry. Want to make you a daddy…” you moaned when he smacked his hips against yours with a thud.
And even though he was already a dad you loved saying it like that. Telling him you’d make him a daddy and he’d talk about making you a mommy and it was so hot. And truth be told, being off birth control had boosted your libido and you wanted it all the time. You hadn’t realized the way your hormones would react to going off it.
“Fuck me, sweet girl… Gonna put a ring on this finger,” he groaned as he took your left hand in his, weaving his fingers between yours and gripping your jaw with his other hand, “Gonna be such a good mommy to my babies…”
The bed under your back was creaking as he thrust and your pussy was so wet the sound would have been comical if you weren’t so gone for it. Gone for Harry.
“Mmm… get it in there deep, just like that…”
Harry rocked into you, keeping his hips glued to yours and you inhaled sharply at the pinch in your cervix. Every time he shoved himself all the way in it ached but you only wanted more and more. Loved that he was tucked into you so far that when he’d come there was less distance for his sperm to travel to get where you wanted it to end up.
“Like that, baby?” Harry looked down at you and tightened his hand around yours as you trembled and puffed out a loud moan, “Gonna come on my cock and let me fuck my babies into you?”
“Yes!”
Harry’s deep groans were egging you on. It felt so good. It always did. Harry was a good lover. The best lover.
The front of his muscled thighs were pinned against yours and when he dropped his mouth to your lips you couldn’t hold back a moment longer.
Pulsing and clenching around him as he licked into your mouth, your head was blurry and your heart was pounding and then his orgasm rocked his body as he let out a strangled cry and pumped everything he had into your tummy.
And needless to say, you were out like a light once you’d gotten cleaned up and he tucked you into bed, holding you in his arms and the conversation about what he was hiding was once again on hold.
.                 .                 .
“You’re still here?” You looked at the clock on your bedside table and over to Harry in bed who was stretching his limbs and yawning.
“Mmhmm… Took off today.”
You grinned and rolled toward him, placing your palm on his chest, “That’s nice. Is there a reason you took off?”
That look again. The one that said he was holding something in appeared and he smiled at you, his hand cupping your face, “There is a reason. Yes.”
“Okay. What is it?” You cocked your head with your eyebrows raised.
“A surprise. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“A surprise? Oh, come on! Tell me what it is!” You sat up and got to your knees with a wide grin, “You gotta tell me what’s going on!”
Harry’s soft eyes dropped down over your tits and your tummy and he grabbed your hips, bringing you down to his chest, “You don’t listen very well do you?” He swatted at your bottom making you puff out a laugh, “Said… you’ll find out soon enough.”
“Harry!” You groaned and tried to pull yourself up but he tightened his arms around you so you couldn’t budge.
“Y/n!” He mocked your voice and you laughed at his attempt at speaking in your tone.
“If I give you a blowie will you tell me?”
Harry sat quietly for a moment and let out a breath, “I’ll tell you regardless. You just gotta be patient. But I’ll take a blowie if you’re offering.”
Of course, that wasn’t the answer you wanted so you wound up wiggling from his arms and pulling his t-shirt on before sauntering out of the room to start the coffee.
You were anxious though. You wondered what the surprise was. Why Harry needed to take a whole day off work. What it was he’d been keeping from you…
But there was something else as well; All his recent comments about putting a ring on your finger. You thought it was possible that maybe he was going to propose too. It was no secret that he intended to keep you around. You’d both talked about ‘forever’. Obviously. What with the talk of having a baby and getting a place together.
And there was also the fact that your lease was coming up very soon. So soon it was giving you anxiety because you hadn’t really begun to look for a new apartment, outside of viewing a few houses that were for sale and Harry reassured and told you not to worry about it. You trusted him but there was that little question in the back of your mind that he was perhaps getting things set up for you without you knowing.
Those were just guesses, though. Whatever it was Harry was planning was something you were looking forward to learning.
“What should I wear for this surprise?” You held up a dress against your body as Harry entered your bedroom.
“Whatever you want. Whatever you feel best in.”
“Should I pack a bag? Bring tennis shoes? Will pictures be involved?” You were trying to get it out of him. He wasn’t giving you anything, though.
“No need to pack anything. If you want to wear tennis shoes you can. Just trust me when I say you don’t need to worry. Okay?”
Harry was wearing his typical getup. Jeans and a t-shirt so you just decided to go casual as well. But you did make sure you looked cute. Just in case pictures would be part of the surprise.
He was excited to show you what he’d done. He hoped you didn’t freak out. There were moments when he thought he should have you involved but he wanted to surprise you. Wanted to make it special. He didn’t get lots of chances to do things like this with you. And maybe he’d gone a little overboard on this but he’d committed and couldn’t back out now.
Your mind raced with the possibilities of what he had planned. You felt like it was something big. You braced yourself to be surprised. And boy were you when you pulled into that familiar neighborhood with the cute house you looked at with Harry months before. The one with the yard he couldn’t stop talking about.
“Harry…” you warned in surprise when he pulled into the driveway of the three-bedroom house and turned off the car engine.
“What?” He raised his brows at you in question, as if he couldn’t fathom what you were surprised by.
“What is… what’s going on?”
Harry didn’t answer as he climbed out of the car and you opened the passenger door and stepped out, looking up at the house and then at Harry.
He grinned at you and reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys with a pretty pink and silver key chain that read, “Home Sweet Home.”
You covered your mouth when he placed the keys in your hand and then he nudged you toward the house, “Know you loved this place. So I bought it for us. It’s ours. Finished up all the closing of it a few days ago and took today off so we could celebrate.”
Harry had his own set of keys as he unlocked the door and opened it up for you to enter first. You did love the house when you first viewed it.
And now there was a table with dining chairs and a big beautiful bouquet of flowers in the center.
“I’ve put a bed in the master bedroom already. King size. No more double bed for us, baby,” he grinned as you looked around. You were stunned that he’d gone and gotten a mortgage on a house and went through the whole process without you knowing.
“I can’t believe you did this.”
Harry stepped in front of you and pulled you into his arms, “For us. For our family. For you.”
You walked through the house again to get reacquainted. Harry had done the smallest bit of furnishing but mostly it was bare. Ready to be furnished and decorated. The bedroom he had nearly ready. The bed was huge and it had sheets and fluffy blankets atop, a dresser, and a side table on both sides. The ensuite had towels and he’d bought soap and lotion. But when he brought you down to the kitchen the fridge was mostly empty but there was a container of something (something sweet he said) along with a bottle of champagne.
Of course, Harry popped the bottle and pulled out two champagne flutes from the cupboard and you clinked glasses before sipping the bubbly drink.
“To me and you. To forever. I love you,” he spoke as he took your hand in his and lifted it up to kiss your knuckles.
“I love you too, Harry. I know I’ve been really quiet but I’m just processing all this. It’s a shock. But I’m so happy. I can’t believe it.”
You carried your glass of champagne with you into the backyard, which still looked terrible, but it was spacious and Harry shared with you his vision again. What it could look like…
You watched him wave his arms around as he kept looking at you as he spoke, “And this… we can just have a nice patch of flowers. The shade is perfect here and it’ll really brighten up this corner. The tree will need trimmed back but it’s going to be perfect to hang a swing off of and little string lights for nighttime. We’ll put some outdoor furniture on the patio after I clean it all up. Trim out the weeds and fill in the spaces that got overgrown…”
A soft smile covered your face as you watched how excited he was. You were excited too, though. Everything was perfect for you two in that moment. You had the love of your life with you and he had bought a house to make a home in. A place he wanted to share with you. A man you trusted and found yourself falling more in love with every day.
You placed your glass down on the brick ledge near the patio and stepped in front of Harry as he was still yammering on about what he would do with the space and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his pecs, “I love it, Harry. It’s perfect.”
And your hormones were raging as you inhaled his scent and he squeezed his strong arms around you. It didn’t help that he kept talking about children running around, what with you ovulating like you were. You had been keeping close track of it and after months of being off birth control, you were finally starting to feel like your body was adjusting to its natural cycle.
Tilting your head back to look up at him you saw him already looking down at you, “Let’s go test out that bed.”
And now it was Harry’s hormones that were raging. He practically dragged you to the master bedroom and you found yourself testing out the bed just as you asked.
“How do you like it?” Harry panted as he sunk into you over and over again.
You were out of breath as you squeaked out a sound of approval.
“That good huh? Gonna make me a daddy? Gonna let me fill you up with babies, Y/n?”
Harry wasn’t gentle as he pumped into you, harsh thuds against you where he’d grind down every time he buried himself into the hilt. He pulled back, nearly completely out before snapping his hips forward into yours. He set the most delicious cadence, thick shaft filling you and rearranging your insides.
When he slowed down he dropped his mouth against yours, rolling into your wet pussy.
“I’m ovulating,” you breathed against his mouth. You were finally able to speak now that he was fucking into you more languidly.
Harry parted from the kiss with a filthy grin on his face, “Is that right little girl? I get to fuck my come into your fertile pussy?”
“Mmm… yes sir… fuck me til it sticks. Want it so bad. Want your babies and your come…”
The new bed was sturdy, unlike the old one at your apartment. No squeaking or creaking or headboard ramming into the walls… just the sound of your creamy pussy wrapped around Harry’s fat cock and the slap of skin.
It was an excellent way to celebrate the purchase of the new house. A little champagne and a good fucking in the new bed… and hopefully it would end with you pregnant.
You’d never had baby fever or whatever this was. But something about Harry just did it for you. You wanted him in every way. Wanted to show everyone how he was yours, that you’d won, that no one could come between you two. Logically you understood the flaw of that thinking, but logic flew out the window every time he was balls deep; that masculine body over yours, his deep voice saying filthy sweet things in your ear, and his big cock that had you hooked since that first day at your apartment all that time ago.
“Oh my god, baby… look a’that…” Harry shifted himself and lifted your hips so you could glimpse the way he was filling you slowly and pulling back, shiny arousal coating his shaft, “Made for each other.” He began to thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rolled into you, eyes on the action happening where you were connected “Feels good doesn’t it?”
You nodded, “You always feel so good, Harry. I need you…”
He moaned, “I know, baby… I need you too.”
You rocked your hips into his hand as he continued fucking into you until he moved again, tilting himself over you and taking the back of your neck in his big palm, and pressing his lips to yours.
Harry’s hips were glued to yours as he pushed into you, ensuring he stayed nice and deep, massaging your inner walls with every thrust in. The pressure of your orgasm built and built as he lapped his tongue against yours and tucked his cock deeper and deeper until he was no longer rearing back, his pelvis rolling over your clit.
Soft whimpers and pants were muffled from your mouth as he kept your lips occupied with his own.
His thrusts were becoming sloppier as he pressed himself to you and you could feel him trembling. When he moaned against your mouth and rutted in smooth and deep he hit something achy, you simply came undone. Harry had to lift his mouth from yours as you moaned and he gasped at the way you were gripping him and pulsing around him until he couldn’t hold back and pumped into you, stuffing you with his come.
It was a favorite. The feel of his throbbing cock releasing inside you. That way you knew your pussy was siphoning every drop from him and how good your cunt felt on him. His soft whimpered moans as he stilled his hips against yours and twitched until he was milked dry, balls properly drained.
Lying in bed together, limbs wrapped up and sweaty bodies breathing and flushed hot post-orgasm you turned to look at him and lifted your knee, draping your thigh over his hip, “I love you.”
Harry moaned and opened his eyes and pulled at you, his arms wrapping around you, “I love you, baby.”
“I’m pretty sure that was it.”
Harry turned his eyes and looked at you, “What was it?”
You grinned and drew your hand up his strong chest, “Well, we’ll see… but I think you just got me pregnant.”
Harry laughed and you giggled with him. Mostly it was just a tease. You’d have no way of really knowing at that point. But something in your gut told you that there was a good chance of it.
“And what makes you think of all the times we’ve gone at it since you’ve been off birth control that this was the one?”
“Well… it’s been months since I got off birth control and for the past couple of weeks I’ve really been more in tune with my body because of it and my ovulation cycle is starting to get to normal and today my insides were aching and I knew the only thing that would make me feel better was to orgasm and that’s because I’m ovulating.”
Harry grinned and ran his thumb over your neck, “Well I fucked you this morning after coffee, baby. Maybe the one from this morning got you knocked up.”
Biting your lip you slid yourself over Harry and straddled his lap, taking his hands and bringing his palms up to cup your tits, “Either way… feel this?” You squeezed around his hands over your tender breasts, “Haven’t had swollen breasts in a really long time. The ovulation is strong this month. And today it’s at its height. My whole body wants to be pregnant.”
The soft gaze on Harry’s face as he looked into your eyes was full of affection and love as he pressed over your nipples, “Extra fertile today, yeah? Then let me recover a bit and I’ll fuck you again. Just in case third time’s a charm, ya know?”
You laughed, “I mean the day is still early. I think I’m gonna need lots of orgasms today to feel better and you’re just the man to give them to me. Plus, we need to celebrate properly.”
He pulled you down, pressing your chest against his, and groped the globes of your ass in his hands, “Well sounds like I’m gonna have to go buy sparkling grape juice for you, huh Mama?”
You both cackled loudly as soon as he said it. And you both understood it was just post-sex hormones talking in that moment. But you’d know soon enough if your intuition was right. You hoped it was.
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