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#is this brain fog ever going to lift?
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Day 155! Because I've decided to keep counting even the one day I didn't art, because it's still a day of the year and I refuse to punish myself for having/surviving Covid.
I've also decided that aside from a finalized name, I don't want to change anything on *dj hand slide* Mike. I'm satisfied with where the design is right now, so it's going to stay the way it is until such time as I decide to make another change. Sure, there are some tweaks I can do, some things I can finalize, but honestly? I don't want to do them. Maybe I'll change my mind when I'm 100% recovered from Covid, but for right now I'm happy with it.
So tonight I drew the outfit I was wearing in Assassin's Creed: New Hampshire Animal Crossing: New Horizons yesterday because I thought it was cute and I wanted to n_n
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bixels · 6 months
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Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).
I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.
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Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.
Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.
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So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.
Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.
Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.
I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)
Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.
That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.
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maeblack · 7 months
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„God, I love the way my name sounds, if you moan it like this, cara mia“
Paring: Theodore Nott x reader
Warnings: smut and a bit dominant Theo
also, English is not my first language and I’m doing my best, so please be patient with me and be warned :)
Word count: 2508
Summary: sometimes jealousy leads to hot shower sex and affirmations
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„Theo?!“ my voice echoed from the walls like my steps. Which became even quicker as I neared myself to the boys change room. Where the hell was he? Without a knocking I swung the door open. A few curses were heard and every pair of eyes laid on me, as I passed the few still changing boys.
„Y/n, what gives us the honor to welcome you in our secret place of hottness?“ Draco purred as he leans against the wall near his locker. The black towel around his waist hung dangerously loosely. Which exposed his well trained body and didn’t left many space for imagination what’s underneath. As i didn’t respond, he spoke up again „you like what you see?“ he teased. „Unfortunately yes, but i‘m not here for you, Malfoy“ I explained sweetly.
While I snaked past him, I mocked: „sorry, I think you need to wait for the next pretty girl, who crosses your way, if you’re half naked, to suck the life out of your dick“. A few chuckles filled the moist air. „This beautiful case happens not as rare as you might think lovely y/n“ he responded as he turned around to face me. I had stopped in front of Theo’s open locker. „Sure Malfoy“ I muttered absent, as I scanned the things in front of me. The quidditch uniform hung on the open locker door. That meant he‘s not in the hospital wing. Good. So he doesn’t have to go there twice on a day when I’m done with him.
But his favorite black sweater also still hung in the locker. So he weren’t already back in his dorm. Or hers. Which was the actual reason I was here. „Where is he?“ i questioned snippy. „I don’t know who you talking about, if you have such an attitude“ Draco shrugged. I inhaled sharp. „my dearest friend Draco, it would be very nice, if you tell me where I can find Theodore“ I declared with a fake smile in my face, my voice still snippy. „Hm I don’t know, if I would be a good friend to him, if I tell you where he is, when you are that mad at him“ Draco explained while he pulled his shirt over his head. „I just want to know, if this whore is with him“ I revealed trough clenched teeth. Silence. „He‘s still in the shower“ he informed me grinning „I don’t know if he’s alone“. „Oh“ I said. My voice sounded more uncertain as intended. Draco chuckled. „Naw if you‘re scared to go in, you can still accept my offer“ he teased, while he fiddled on the towel around his waist. „No thanks“ I admitted quick „I’m already a big girl and I can handle my jealousy alone“. With this I turned on my heal and went straight into the shower room.
The moment I stepped in, the humidity increased immeasurably. The room was filled in steam fog, which enveloped Theo’s tall figure. He stood with his back to me under one of the showers in the back of the elongated room. He was alone. An indescribable burden fell from my heart. The stream of water washed around his body as I came closer. With one hand on the wall, he supported himself, while his dark brown curls hung into his closed eyes. My anger was floated away as my eyes scanned ever millimeter of his gorgeous body. No hickeys. Just his cute freckles all along his neck down to his shoulders. The butterflies in my belly did some flips as they went crazy. The muscles on his back twitching, as he lifted his head and stretched it towards the heated water. The space in between my tights already as wet as the air around us. „Do you want to keep staring at me or will you join me?“ Theo’s husky voice reached my brain. I nervously cleared my throat. He chuckled raspy, which send shivers down my spine. He would be the death of me, I already knew it. Why did I thought I would be able to yell at him while he‘s IN SHOWER? Only the thought about his body made me numb. And now I was more than able to see everything. God
A few moments must have passed since my voice was lastly heard, because now I was the one with a raspy whispering voice. „I was searching for you“. It sounded sweet. Merlin. I was pissed until I took the step inside the shower room. Since when did Theodore Nott made me that weak?
„Aha“ he made slowly, bringing me back to reality. „Then congratulations… you found me“ he purred while he let his head fell back. My body heated up even more. How could someone look that good? It was a curse and blessing together to have this beautiful sight of him. „Then what do you want from me, if it’s not joining me?“ he asked again. For a moment I was confused myself. „If you just wanted to know where I am, you could have asked somebody? You didn’t have to follow me into the shower…“ he added. „Oh yeah?“ I snipped. My voice had its force back. „Maybe your new fangirl could have told me where you are! But oh wait, I forgot, she left together with you“. With every word I talked myself back in anger again. For a few seconds the water streaming on the floor was the only thing heard. He chuckled quietly as he shook his head slightly.
Only as he turned around to face me, I noticed how close I stood. The water from his hair dropped on my face as I glanced up at him. My eyes still sparkled aggressively. But as I got lost in his deep brown hazel eyes, I felt my knees go weak again. My breath went hard. The anger still slightly cocking in my veins. But I got more and more distracted as my gaze followed the tiny watersprinkles which made their way down his face. It looked so magical.
„Is there someone jealous?“ he questioned after his eyes had searched along my whole face. His voice unfathomable, which made my heart twitch. I wasn’t sure what to say. Could I admit that I am jealous? Am I allowed to be jealous? Actually not. We weren’t together. He wasn’t mine. And I wasn’t his. God why am I even here then?
In the shower. While he‘s completely naked. And I’m fully dressed.
The second I thought about it, was the first moment I could feel the hot water streaming down at me, even though I stood like this for minutes. After this determination my eyes flew automatically down my soaked wet cloths. And with this, down his body too. His incredibly defined abs peaked out his upper body. I fought against the instinct to slid my fingertips along them. His cock already standing hard. Which made me bite my lower lip while I felt my mid already clenching.
„Y/n“ His voice brought my attention back to his lips. „Why are you here?“ he asked urgently. My voice trembled as I started to mouth an answer „I just had to make sure if you’re here. With her.“ „and then?“ he questioned darkly. I shivered. „What do you thought we would do here together?“ he continued his asking. „I -“ I started searching for the right words. „Go on little y/n“ he purred „tell me your naughty thoughts“. I swallowed hard against my dry throat. Why did he had such an effect on me? Even if it would be possible not to think about his hard cock. Which now slightly tipped against my mid as he came closer to tug my hair behind my ear. I melted under his touch and my whole body burned.
„Tell me what you thought we were doing in here“ he demanded.
I gathered all my courage as I spoke up. „After I saw how she undressed you with her looks on the pitch, I thought I would find her on her knees for you. Sucking your dick like you deserve after the good match“ I explained as I lifted my chin towards him. „Aha“ he hummed, his voice melodically. A grin drawn on his lips. „You think I deserve a naughty little whore who sucks my dick?“ he questioned. I nodded. „And why in this case you wanted to stop her?“ Theo asked taunting. „Because it’s my job“ I said, not knowing where his sudden confident came from. „Aha“ he repeated his answer from before. This time his grin grew even bigger.
„Then I won’t hold you back any longer… do what you’re here for“ Theo crooned. His left hand, which loosely hung in my hair after he tugged it behind, grabbed deeper in my strains and pushed me slightly down on my knees. My mouth milliliters away from his dick. I looked up through my lashes and locked eyes with him as I straddled his cock with my fingers. I admired the changing expression in his face as I licked his tip. He breathed in sharp as I took his hard cock in my mouth. His soft skin unter my tongue made me melt. And as his groans filled the air, my mid was dripping for him.
„Oh Merlin - y/n“ he groaned trough clenched teeth as I took him all in „you do your job fucking good“. As his muscle twitched he withdrew from my mouth and pulled me back to my stand. His hand still grabbed with full force in my hair as he brought me in front of his lips. Every inch of my body ached for him. „And now, amore mio? What happens next in your dirty little mind?“ Theo’s voice dagging deep into my brain. „I want to feel you“ I admit while locking eyes with him. His intense stare made my body melt in pure pleasure. And as his lips formed into a grin, I knew my deepest desire would come true. Slowly he closed the last gab between us and placed his soft lips demandingly on mine. Our lips moved so sync I thought I‘ve already kissed him a hundred times. His other hand found it’s place on my waist to pull me even closer, so every part of my body could feel his. And how I could feel his body. His cock pressed hard agains my belly while he pressed me against him and my back on the cold wall behind us. I wanted to melt together with him and stay like this forever.
But my aching mid reminded me of what I really needed. „Theo“ I managed to say under my heavy breathing „I want you inside of me“. His eyes sparkled furiously as he took a step back. „If you take off your cloths for me, I will do anything for you to make you feel as good as you made me feel, while my dick fucked your beautiful mouth“ he said and his voice sounded like honey. In trance I took of my all wet sweater. It fell to the ground with a muffled noice. Then I opened the zip of my skirt, which made it slid down my legs slowly. Never breaking eye contact with his beautiful hazel eyes. Patient he waited as I unclipsed my bra until I freed my breasts. Suddenly he was right in front of me. His lips on my neck, searching for my sweet spots, making me gasp. His hands all around me. His fingertips softly caressed my burning skin. And his tip pressing against my soaked panties. „So wet for me already, cara mia?“ he said sweetly „and I have barely touched you yet“. „Mhm“ I mumbled. I was about to melt in his hands. Only the nickname he called me made me weak.
And then there were his soft lips sucking on my neck, leaving marks, everyone could see the next day. But I don’t care. I wanted to be his. And I wanted everyone to see. Slowly he kissed himself down to my breasts. The moment he took my nipple in his mouth to play with his tongue, I know, I must be in heaven. I moaned out his name. His hands rooming my body and sliding down my panties. „Theo, please“ I pleaded. As he didn’t responded nor did anything else than before, the aching pain in my mid grew bigger. I whimpered again until he let go of my breast and looked deep in my eyes, while he came closer. Right in front of my lips he stopped and whispered: „I like it when you plead for my dick“. Then he closed the gap between us again and kissed me. This time his tongue become even more forceful than before and I could only bare imagine, how it would feel to have his tongue playing with my pearl. The moment I tought about it, I felt his thumb where I needed him the most. I gasped as he quickly rubbed against it. My whimpers became moans at the sudden intense feeling. And as the feeling in my stomach grew bigger and bigger I started to moan out his name again. Whereupon he locked eyes with me. „God, I love the way my name sounds, if you moan it like this, cara mia“ he whispered. Only his words were enough to push me over the edge.
But he didn’t give me time to ride out my orgasm. Instead he pressed his tip on my pulsating clit and cared it along my entrance before he spoke again: „and because you moaned my name so beautifully, I want to know how it sounds, if I give you a reason to scream it“. With this he pushed his tip deep inside of me. With one hand on the wall and the other around my throat, he supported himself as he drove deeper with every thrust, while he fucked me against the wall. And as he said, with the feeling of his hard dick pumping into me, he made me scream his name over and over again. As he pleased spots I never new even existed, he made me reach one high after the other.
One of my hands searching for support in his dark curls, while my finders played with his strains. The other one laid on his shoulder, digging my nails in his soft skin. As his trusts became harder, he broke the connection to my neck, where he drew a masterpiece of his affection. „Since I heard you scream my name, amore mio, I don’t want to hear anyone else say it like that ever again“ he confessed breathlessly between his trusts. The nickname and the affirmation pushed me over the edge again. I whimpered and clenched around him, which dragged him with me into his orgasm. „I‘ll moan it for you anytime… I‘m all yours Theodore“ I whispered trembling in his ear, which made him groan as he nestled his face between my neck and my hair.
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cloudzoro · 5 months
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Take Care | Kento Nanami ♡
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genre: smut (minors dni)
pairings: kento nanami x fem reader
wc: 2.6k words
cw: sex on the kitchen counter, biting, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, kind of vanilla, intimate and loving :((((
masterlist here
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It's your two year wedding anniversary and your husband, Kento, arrives home earlier than expected. He behaves during the dinner you've made but as soon as he polishes off the last bite he takes it upon himself to show you how deeply he feels for you.
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Smooth music plays through the kitchen speakers as you tie your apron around your waist, careful not to ruin your outfit. It's your anniversary, and you want to do something nice for your husband. You decided on cooking a big meal (including a homemade dessert) and dressing up to eat at home. Nanami was at work, so you had plenty of time to perfect everything. Or so you thought.
In your panic to get everything set up, you fail to notice your husband standing in the doorway to your kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. He watches as you move around the kitchen in your pretty dress with a smile on his face. Despite his attempts to push away his many horny thoughts, he feels the tent in his trousers growing. When the fog clears in his brain, and he sees that you're dishing up the food, he decides to be a good husband and wait until after dinner to fuck your brains out. You turn around and almost drop the plate in your hands.
"Kento!" you squeal, both startled because you hadn't heard him come in and excited to have him home finally. "When did you get here?" you ask, reaching around to untie your apron. He wouldn't voice the momentary disappointment he feels when you take off the thing that was playing right into his dirtiest fantasies, but that washes away when he sees the beauty of a dress you have on beneath it. If he was right about the garter straps and stockings, you had also dressed up underneath that.
"I booked the day off without telling you. I've been out all day getting you these," he hums, lifting a bag of boxes. You can't be mad at Nanami for lying to you when he was home earlier than expected and holding what looked like expensive gifts for you. "I got back a while ago."
"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask as he places the bag of gifts on the counter where there is space and walks over to you to kiss you. He wraps his buff arms around your waist, drops his head to kiss your neck, and speaks softly in your ear.
"I was enjoying the show. You're a pleasure to watch, you know," he hums, pressing another kiss to your neck and standing up straight again. Your attempts to cool yourself down and stop the blood rushing to your cheeks do not go unnoticed by your husband, who smirks at you. He steps back and lets you place the full plates on the table. "I'm starving, baby. That looks so good," he practically growls. Nanami doesn't immediately sit down, though. He makes sure to be the gentleman he usually is and pulls out your chair so you can sit first. He then takes his seat opposite you and digs into his food.
As the two of you eat, you fall into a comfortable silence, interrupted now and then by chatter about your daily lives. He lets out a satisfied groan after he swallows down his final bite and flashes you a grin. "Sweetheart, you have outdone yourself."
You chuckle at his dramatics, but you know he means it. "Was it that good?"
"Marrying you is the best decision I've ever made. Now come here so I can compliment the chef," he says, patting his lap. You obey and round to the table to perch on his thigh. He leans forward to kiss your jaw and slides his hand under your dress. "I am so lucky to have a wife like you."
"Want your presents?" He asks, scraping his teeth against the skin of your neck. You nod, getting off his lap. He instructs you to sit in his previous seat as he grabs a medium-sized box and kneels before you, placing the box on your lap. He waits with a knowing smile as you lift the lid off the box. He holds back a laugh at your gasp of surprise when you see what's inside. It's a pair of shoes, a very expensive pair of heels, that you've been eyeing for weeks.
“Oh my god, Kento”, you take one of the shoes, hold it up, and examine it. Nanami takes it from you and puts it on your foot after helping you rid yourself of your old shoes. You let him do the same with the other shoe and stand up to give him a twirl. You feel sexy in the heels, and he looks like he's about ready to eat you alive. He turns you around to tug the zip on the back of your dress and licks his lips at the realisation that his earlier prediction about your lingerie choices is correct. You're wearing your nicest set, a black one he bought for you on your first anniversary.
“Like what you see?”
Nanami doesn’t respond, pulling your dress down your body instead. He grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You giggle at his cheesiness and let him push you back into the chair. You sit down and let your husband push your legs apart. He sweetly smiles at how pliant you are, allowing him to spread your legs and hold them so you are on display for him. He takes great pride in the fact that you trust him enough to let him take control. He presses a kiss to your ankle over your stockings and makes his way up your legs, making sure both legs receive a substantial amount of love. He pauses his ascent towards your cunt to suck a mark into your thigh right above the lace. Nanami wordlessly unclips the straps holding up your tights and pulls your underwear down your legs, flinging them somewhere behind him and reclipping the garter belt.
“Want you to keep these on for me, ok? They look so fucking pretty on you,” he says, pressing another kiss to your thigh and smoothing his hands up your calves. He helps situate you on the edge of the chair more, then leans in to lick a single stripe through your folds teasingly. He chuckles lowly at the whine that escapes your throat when he pulls away. "sorry baby, I'll stop teasing."
"Baby, please"
To him, your voice is the prettiest sound he's ever heard, and he can't just ignore your plea. So he finally puts his head back between your legs. He eats your pussy like a starved man, the grip on your hips feels just tight enough, and your nails scratch against his scalp as you thread your fingers through his hair. He pulls away for a second, and you hear a wet noise, only to feel two fingers pushing into you a second later.
"gotta work you, open baby, you know you can't take me without help."
He practically growls against your cunt as he feels you clench around his fingers. You're so engrossed in the feeling of his mouth on you that It doesn't take long for you to cum. You ignore the slight embarrassment of not lasting long to whine instead about how he refuses to let up with his tongue.
Nanami waits until you physically push him away from you to stop and then comes up to meet you in a kiss after licking your taste off of his fingers. He trails his lips down your neck and past your collarbones, smirking as you squirm slightly beneath him. As he works on leaving possessive marks on your chest, his thoughts drift back to you in your dress and apron, bending over to reach the plates, and he can't stop himself from lifting you and placing you onto the counter where the bag of gifts was.
There's something about fucking you on the kitchen counter that satisfies the traditional wife fetish that you seem to have unlocked within him. It's not the idea of owning you but more the idea of coming home to a doting wife that he gets to spoil and look after that gets him hard. It's such an innocent thing that he almost resents the way his cock twitches when he hyper-focuses on your wedding ring. Not to mention how the domestic aspects of the fantasy fuel his breeding kink. He wants more than anything to knock you up. He'd wait a bit for that, though.
He tries to stop his train of thought so that he can focus on your moans as he pushes his cock inside you. The whine you let out is broken and desperate.
"I know baby, I know. You take me so well, though," he soothes, rubbing at your hips as he eases himself further inside you. He's so big; he fills you up in a way you didn't think was possible. You try to focus on the way his lips press against your shoulder, but you struggle to form a coherent thought at all while he's inside you.
"Kento", you whine, unable to do much more than that. You attempt to roll your hips a little as a hint to get him to move, and it works. He starts slower, almost teasing, as he thrusts into you. He's trained you to take him over the years, and being able to take him is something you take pride in. That's why when he tells you how good you feel wrapped around his cock, you grin at the praise, and your grip on his shoulders gets stronger. Luckily, Nanami likes the sting of your nails digging into his back, so the feeling only spurs him on.
As his pace picks up, you find yourself unable to hold back your moans. You let out a particularly loud, whiny moan, and he chuckles, leaning toward your ear to respond.
"yeah? Is that good, baby?" He asks, repeating your words from earlier. You pitifully whimper at his question, and he decides it's not a good enough response. He wants you to be louder, to scream and cry about how good his cock makes you feel. "I asked you a question, my love. It would be rude not to answer," You attempt to answer - you really do- but you just can't get more than two syllables out before you're interrupted by a moan that's more akin to a scream through gritted teeth and it's a noise that makes his cock twitch inside you. He watches with a shit-eating grin on his face as you try again, but he adds more force into his thrusts just as you get the words out, and you're gone. Tears threaten to spill, and you claw more frantically at his already marked-up back. He leans back to admire your exhausted face, and he can't help the way his devilish grin softens to a goofy, lovesick smile. 'there she is,' he thinks as he watches your tongue drop involuntarily out of your mouth. 'that's my girl.'
"It's ok baby", he coos as he surges forward to bring into a kiss that could only be described as 'nasty'. He hums in satisfaction at your desperation to return the kiss. "I get it. It's hard to think when you're being fucked stupid. I understand," and he does; he does understand because your pussy makes him equally as delirious.
You clench around him. You could listen to him talk for hours. You're so close, and he knows it too. "cum for me.”
It's all too much for you, and you cum almost immediately. Nanami’s nearly sent over the edge by the way your pussy practically strangles his cock, but he holds off the best he can as he works you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He thinks you look so beautiful when you cum, and he makes sure to tell you so as he throws praise at you by the bucket making sure you know just how he feels about you. He looks up at you, and you nod, silently permitting him to finish himself off inside you. You whine at the sensitivity as he moves again. All it takes is two thrusts before he's on the edge.
"Where do you want it, baby?"
As soon as the word "inside" leaves your mouth, his mind is reverted to his earlier thoughts of breeding his pretty little wife, and he cums almost immediately. You watch intently as his body tenses, and he spills inside of you. It leaves you feeling full, but you're still not entirely satisfied and know he's not either. As soon as your husband looks up from where his cum is leaking from your pussy he recognises the expression on your face.
"I can't believe how fucking lucky I am", he growls, picking you up and carrying you towards your bedroom. As your back hits the mattress, you lock eyes with Nanami, who simply smiles at you before kissing your forehead and whispering, “Happy Anniversary”.
Nanami cuts off your reply as he presses his lips to yours. He kisses down your neck, and you moan when his teeth sink into the skin. “I love you” you whine.
“I'm so glad that you do.” his voice is softer now, and he smiles against your neck. He leaves a gentle peck against the mark he left on your neck and pushes himself up to sit back on his knees. His hand strokes from your waist to your knees, eyes taking in the sight of you laid out before him. “But baby girl, no matter how much you love me, it cannot possibly come close to how much I love you.” The affection shocks you into complete silence as tears well in your eyes. Your entire body is trembling as if the love you harbour for the man above you is causing you to tear apart at the seams. “You're so smart, so bright and funny, and so so beautiful.” he lifts one of your legs to his mouth and kisses your calf. His hands smooth over as much of your skin as possible, even reaching underneath you to remove your bra. He plays with your tits as he continues to praise you. A tear escapes, and your husband immediately brings a hand up to wipe the tear away.
“My sweet wife,” he says, looking down to line up his cock with your hole. He pushes in, and you arch your back, whining at the stretch.
“Kento, please.”
“Whatever you need, baby, I'll do whatever you want”, he assures you as he speeds up his thrusts. He originally intended to flip you over on your hands and knees, but he needs to your face as he makes you cum. Your hands grip his shoulders as he speeds his thrusts, grinning above you as your back arches and presses your chest against his. His notorious composure is wholly unravelled by the feeling of your pussy squeezing around his cock. You’re fairing no better, reduced to tears as your husband all but tears a third orgasm out of you. He follows close behind you, filling you up. He does his best to work the both of you through your orgasms, continuing to rut his hips until both of you are completely worn out. You know you are probably unable to take another orgasm for the time being, so you relax into the bed and try to calm your frantic breathing. Nanami puts all his weight onto you, catching his breath and panting into your skin. He presses small kisses all over your shoulder and collarbone. You both lay there in silence, his cock still inside you, basking in the warmth of each other.
When he’s ready to separate himself, he pulls out, wincing at the way you hiss. The whine you give when he leaves the bed makes him chuckle. He undoes your garters and pulls off your stockings.
“Don’t move a muscle”, he says, pushing his hand underneath you to scoop you up in his arms. “Just let me take care of you and clean you up”, he says, carrying you to the shower to clean up. You settle against his chest with a smile on your face.
Kento Nanami always takes care of you.
♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡
hope you enjoyed! I love kento so bad :((( I'm missing him so much rn. reblogs, likes and comments are massively appreciated!!!!
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cookiewrites · 3 months
Text
daddy'll take care of you
wc: 1.6k
cw: softdom!chan x afab sub!reader, somnophilia, prior consent given/established relationship, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this), daddy kink, praise, dirty talk, tiny bit of degredation, reader is called a cocksleeve, pet names for reader (princess, little one, baby girl, love), breeding kink, creampie, blindfolding, little bit of aftercare, tiny bit of size kink? kind of?, subspace
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sleepy sex with chan has always been your favourite, but not that morning just barely light needy 'don't get out of bed yet' sex - but the 'i came home and you're already asleep and i'm sorry but i need you' sex. the 'i've had the worst day ever and i'm too tired of everything but please do something' sex. the 'we fell asleep still connected and i can't help it' sex.
boundaries had been clearly discussed when the two of you started having sex, but it was not soon after that you found yourself in the position of having that needy half-asleep sex. you stepped through the door to your apartment, barely closing the door before dropping your bag, coat, and shoes. cleaning up in the bathroom was exhausting and slow, but somehow you did it, making your way to the bedroom you and chan shared.
you had only just tucked yourself in when he followed, still energised from a good studio session. 'how's my baby doing then?' he asks, stripping himself, slowly exposing more and more skin - you found yourself wishing you had the energy to do something about it. instead, using the energy you did have to give him a run down on your day.
your voice drifting off as he gets closer to you, stopping entirely as his hand comes up to hold your face; his skin warm against yours. soon lips are on yours but you barely have the energy to respond to them, even though they are plush and perfect and attached to your boyfriend.
'oh is my baby tired?' he asks, stroking your hair as one hand around your waist pulls you closer to him. his smile is loving and soft, patient as you nod and try to apologise. 'there's no need to say sorry princess, let's get you some sleep'.
you cut that idea off with a whine, burying your head into his neck, letting yourself be surrounded by his scent, your hands grabbing at whatever parts of him they're near.
'oh?' you nod and whine again, trying to pull him closer again.
'oh. my love is needy, i get it baby, do you want daddy to help you get some rest?' you nod, whispering a please as he guides you onto your back - hands gently touching and caressing you, taking their time to hold and adore you.
'daddy'll just be a sec, little one, okay?' you go to respond but by the time you find the response through the fog in your brain he's back in bed with you, holding something.
'lift your head up for me, princess.'. your body follows before you even think to, and a blindfold is neatly tied around your eyes. a soft kiss on your lips follows. the darkness only adds to how heavy every part of your body feels, and heightens the way his fingers trace their way down your arms, and back up under the t-shirt you've slipped on.
'pretty little baby, so well behaved for me' he muses as he lifts the top high enough to have access to your chest. leaning down to plant kisses across the new found skin, the only warning you have being the brush of his hair as it falls against you.
there's kisses and small bites and that sinful tongue tracing a line down from the center of your chest to above your underwear. he lets his teeth find the band of the panties you'd left on in your rush to sleep before pulling back and scolding himself for not being gentle.
'beautiful, such a good girl for me' he praises, lips against your stomach. he reaches one hand up to your face, and as you feel them brush against your lower lip, you immediately try to follow them. he laughs to himself before helping you guide his thumb into your mouth; wet warmth surrounding it. he feels himself get harder. 'so good, daddy'll help i promise little one.'
with his other hand he begins to pull your underwear off, your hips raising slightly to help, but you're clearly distracted by the weight on your tongue. sucking around it, losing yourself in how good it feels to be surrounded by him; the love of it, the warmth, the care.
'god you're so fucking pliable baby' he comments, as you realise your legs are being spread apart, just enough for a somehow now naked chan to rest himself between. the heat of his thighs making you feel warm all over, you whine, mouth opening a moment. your whine just gets louder as he takes his soaked thumb away from you. you try to follow it.
'you know i'd call you pathetic if you weren't so cute babygirl?' he whispers in your ear. he's somehow everywhere and it's making your foggy brain dizzy. that disorientation is not helped by the thumb that was once in your mouth in now finding it's own lazy pace on your clit, rubbing these patient patterns. well it felt patient until he moved it down slightly to test exactly how much prep you'll need to take what you actually want.
'p-please da-daddy'
'god you're... i should prep you baby'
chan was always so cautious with you, even at his roughest he wanted you stretched and ready before even attempting to fit himself inside you. it was that love and care that made you feel safe, safe enough to feel so out of it and still want to be so full of him.
'it's o-okay, you can m-make it fit daddy, please'
'you can take it baby? can you?' he laughs, clearly not expecting an answer as you feel the feeling of his fingers replaced by something much harder. 'it's a good job you're making a pretty puddle on our sheets'
you didn't think he could ever feel bigger than he already is but when you feel so small and delicate, you weren't even sure it would fit. yet he finds a way, his tip slowly slipping into you. the stretch delicious and dizzying; marred only by the words whispered in your ear;
'god, you're made for me little one'
'it's okay, daddy will take such good care of you'
'so tight around me, you're just so little, princess'
you don't notice you're moaning until you hear how much louder you get as his hips meet yours. your knee in one of his hands, lifting the near dead weight just so he can nestle himself deeper in you. his other arm, fist clenched, is holding is weight next to your head. you can feel the warmth radiate of his bicep - you know the way it bulges and the veins and you wish you could see it now but-
'letting me do whatever i want baby, so good to me'
his thrusts are such delicious rolls of his hips, no hard snaps, no sudden empty or full feelings - just this constant massage of your walls and beautiful presses of his head against the squishy part inside you.
'pretty little thing for me to use, such a good cocksleeve'
every new praise is said somewhere new. some so close to your ear you're not sure if it's in your head; your sleep filled brain replaying all the dirty things chan has said to you. some are with lips pressed to new skin, as if he's trying to consume you whole.
'daddy'll make your bad day go away, i know you're happiest all full.'.
'do you feel that baby? feel how deep i am? just relax love'
every new move is a surprise, you don't have enough energy to try and picture what he plans to do and that's why this works so well. you've had enough sense to hook the leg he previously held over his hip; you think he put it there.
'my little play thing, so perfect for me'
the delicate touches that appear on your clit surprise you, they make you notice the knot in your stomach.
'you're so easy to use baby, just made for me, so good, good girl'
the pinches on your nipple make you cry out, how did his hand get there? how didn't you notice.
'you're so good to me, letting me have you like this, letting daddy take care of his needy little girl'
the sudden bite at your neck, the sucking you know will bruise bring you so close and you can't even really warn him. it's so dark and warm and you feel so safe and good and-
'oh baby, cumming so quickly for me, fuck'
'there you are, aw baby, making such a mess'
'you feel so good cumming around me, babygirl, daddy loves you'
'd-daddy loves me?'
'y-yes he does, and you love daddy, so it's okay if he uses you a little longer, right?'
you nod, or at least you think you do, as you feel chan speed up. his thrusts getting a little harsher as he chases his own high.
'daddy's gonna b-breed his perfect little girl, yeah?'
'i know how much you love when daddy fills you up like that, stay still in and take it, yeah?'
'shhh it's okay d-daddy's close baby'
all his praise turns to groans as he fills you up, placing kisses over your neck and cheek, thanking you over and over again for it all. you don't remember much after that, some familiar feelings of his hands helping clean you up, him pulling you into him as you spoon. him telling you over and over just how good you've been.
the mornings after nights like this are some of your favourites. they're the kind of mornings that make you slip up and call chan your husband; he smiles so big every time. it's all breakfast in bed, not letting you walk anywhere, giving you his card so you can buy yourself those shoes you've been looking at, so many kisses your lips are sore. it's love.
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deardoiloveyou · 6 months
Text
HP boys' pet names for u ₊˚⊹♡
Notes: fluff, pet names used, heavily referencing goblet of fire,
Characters: harry pottah, draco malfoy, ron weasley, weasley twins
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Harry
Harry just looked at you lovingly through his fogged up glasses, it was a cold and snowy day, the perfect weather - to you at least. Harry's cold and numb fingers entangled with yours,
"You look lovely, beautiful."
You couldn't tell which was better. The fact he called you beautiful or that he complimented you, as embarrassed and flustered as you were - it couldn't top Harry's amount of flustered feelings towards you.
Although he gave you his usual toothy grin, he was screaming internally. Your hands were so tender to his - and your cheeks were flushed with a pink the shade of your lips, it was so perfect.
You replied bashfully, hoping you didn't sound too awkward, "Thank you, Harry... you look just as lovely."
Harry thought he was about to pass out - and not from hypothermia. A compliment? From you? Oh my gosh, he was gonna be escorted to Madam Pompfrey's again. (You visited him there often, as he seemingly made Madam Pompfrey's infirmary his second home).
"Shouldn't we get back inside now? I'm sure you'll want to find out what your last task is..." The mention of the tournament left him sick - although he had been successful with the last tasks, it was all narrowly avoided punishments. You knew this of course, but you also knew that Harry, himself, was incredible just on his own. Harry loved you for this so very much. He wanted you to kiss him ever so badly, so when you softly pecked his cheek with those tender and soft lips he couldn't stop staring at - he wanted to run away and never look back.
"Hey, I love you, y/n"
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Draco
"Yeh jus' so pretty, love"
You were semi-bickering with Draco about how often he just sits there and stares at you, his eyes all soft, he couldn't stop smiling when around you.
" Merlin's beard, Draco, look you're doing it again..."
Draco looked at you again - with those soft and brain melting eyes, "Huh? What am I doing again...? Sorry, love" Draco looked at you obliviously, clearly zoned out and letting his eyes wander you eternally.
You held up a pretty good argument, but when Draco used the nickname "love" for you, ugh, you just lost it. You wanted his hands to intertwine with yours, never letting go, only warm and joyous feelings entangling between you two. Well that was at least your first instincts, but you had to resist - right? Well suddenly your entire grumpy expression lifted and now it felt like a joke to you, so stupid actually, you just wanted to throw yourself into Draco's arms.
Apparently this feeling was very obvious to Draco because before you could even attempt to start up your argument again - Draco kissed you. So passionately and hungrily, he was kissing you as if it were his last dying wish. You pulled away - panting, you had almost completely forgotten why the two of you were arguing in the first place.
"Draco- stop... you can't solve all my problems just by kis-." Before you could finish your sentence, Draco wrapped his arms around you.
"Let's just forget about it, love?" Draco just wanted to feel your touch. He could never get enough of you, and he would never get tired of you saying "I love you", which he so desperately wanted you to say.
You rolled your eyes, yet you still grinned mischievously. You couldn't hold back anymore, gently wrapping your arms around Draco, you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. You truly loved each other.
"I love you, y/n."
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Ron
Ron was used to your affectionate behaviors', as well as your sweet nicknames for him (although he did not like Ronnie-kins), so he liked returning back the feelings. Yet you never seemed to expect him to say,
"G'morning, sweetheart."
Your face completely flushed with red. You wanted to reply - but you seemingly couldn't. Butterflies felt like they were caught in your throat, you heard Ron give you sweet names before, but this? This was a whole other story. Sweetheart? He was gonna make you melt.
"Mornin', darling"
That was the only response that you could choke out. Ron's plan had completely backfired, well somewhat backfired. You were now both flustered and completely red in the face. Ron wanted nothing more than for you to pull him into a fluffy embrace, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss Ron. As if you were both reading each others' mind, you closed the gap between you two and pulled Ron into - not just an embrace, but a kiss.
The way you were both so incredibly shy after pulling away is something neither of you could comprehend. You were certainly a bright shade of red Ron had never seen before (might I say it was a brighter red than his hair). Ron felt like a dizzy mess even though he'd been up for an hour.
Ron finally took a breath and said,
"Ugh, for merlin's sake, I love you, y/n."
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Weasley Twins
Both Fred and George took pleasure in giving people nicknames, Ronnie-kins was definitely one of your favorites (it was amusing to see Ron turn from hotheaded to bright red at the nickname). So, you weren't particularly surprised whenever Fred and George shortened your name in an adoring way, but you were certainly surprised when the Weasley twins said,
"Ah, hi, angel!"
"Oh, hello, sunshine!"
Merlin's beard. You thought you were about to pass out. The affectionate shortening of your name was already enough to make you turn a shade of pink, but this? This was going to make you go crazy. So, in turn, you wanted to make them go crazy as well.
"Hi, loves"
Well, instead of the twins turning the bright red you were, they just smirked and looked at each other with those same mischievous eyes. Before you could even question them as to what they were planning, Fred gave you a soft kiss on the cheek and George hugged you from behind, further turning your cheeks the same shade as your cherry lips.
Before you completely lost your voice in shock of what just happened, you managed to spit out,
"Ugh, for merlin's sake, I love you..."
"Both?"
"Both, right?"
You smirked and just rolled your eyes, you still nodded your head to the twins' delight.
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A/N: I'm so sorry I've been on a mini hiatus, so much stuff has been going on and it has been stressful to say the least!! Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed these mini fics, and of course, have a lovely day<3
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homicidal-slvt · 1 year
Note
Hi, can we have König picking you up from work and sees you developed a relationship between your co-worker and ends up you both having an angry (possessive) car sex? Thank you 😚😚😚
"You Asked For This"
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König x F!Reader
Civilian|Y/N
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Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, Car Sex, Oral, Possessive!König, Mean!König, Kinda Dub-Con?
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As you were leaving work you gave your co-worker Jay a hug goodbye, you two had become very close friends.
The icing on the cake was just how tightly he hugged you, König watching like a hawk as he sat in the car, hands roughly gripping the steering wheel.
He trusted you- he knew you wouldn't ever betray him. But fuck if it didn't make his blood boil anyways, making that ugly green monster rear it's head inside the beastly large man.
You slid into the front passenger seat and quickly buckled your seatbelt, happily flashing an unknowing smile to your boyfriend.
"Hey, honey! Thanks for picking me up today."
You received a silent nod which set off alarm bells in your head, him pulling out of the parking lot and driving in an uneasy quiet.
"Sweetheart..?"
"He was all over you."
You flinched slightly at the cold tone of voice, a slight confusion crossing your face for a moment before you realized what he was referring to.
"He's just a-"
"You know you belong to me, Maus."
You paused and narrowed your eyes at him.
"Don't be a dick, König."
••
"F-Fuck!!!"
You cried out as you were pinned in the back seat, windows fogging up and you barely had enough room. It almost felt as though you had no oxygen, brain clouded while you were caged onto the seat by König's large form.
"What is that, Maus? Can he make you scream like this?"
He hissed as his hips met yours in angered thrusts, cries leaving your lips along with drool. Your insides were on fire and you felt as though he was going to end up all the way into your stomach.
"You're fucking mine"
He grasped your hair roughly snatching your head back into a position so he could have easy access to your throat, he began leaving several hickeys sucking and biting at your delicate skin.
Your eyes rolled back as you approached your orgasm and you felt him grin against your neck, he could feel the way your walls clenched onto him desperate for release.
Soon both your orgasms came crashing in like a harsh tidal wave, his thrusts faltering as he pumped you full of cum. Slowly he slid out and you finally got a moment to catch your breath.
However suddenly your legs were propped up against his shoulders his head dipping down between your legs, tongue lapping at your sensitive bud and cleaning up the spilled cum. Twitching you pushed at his head weakly.
"König wait-"
He lifted his head and gently grasped your wrist.
"We're not done yet... You asked for this."
-
{More Content}
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amomentsescape · 4 months
Note
can I also request to yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a pregnant reader that gets kidnapped if thats ok? Thank you hope im not requesting too much, no pressure to make it 😅
Yandere! Slashers with Pregnant Reader That Gets Kidnapped
Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester
Warnings: Yandere behavior, mentions of pregnancy, typical Slasher behavior
A/N: No worries! Thank you for requesting :) I also apologize if my last couple of Slasher fics have been a bit short. I've been stuck in a brain fog this past week.
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Freddy Krueger
The moment Freddy sees you gone, he just laughs
You couldn't be that stupid to just leave, could you?
You can't escape him when he can show up at any point no matter where you are
However, him popping up and seeing you being held hostage by someone else...
Freddy's smile fades
Of course you wouldn't leave him
But who dares to have put you and his child at risk?
The moment he sees them, he doesn't even care
He immediately slashes their throat and picks you up, not wasting any time taking you back to where you belong
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Michael Myers
The kidnapper was careless
Don't they know that Michael would walk to the ends of the earth for you and his child?
His abilities know no bounds
He finds your location within a single night
All you can hear at first are screams and splatters, not sure what is going on outside your little room
But the moment you see Michael, you immediately relax
You weren't sure he would come for you
But here he was
And without a word, he has you lifted in his bloody arms as he walks you back home
Just know he won't be letting you out of his sight at all now
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Jason Voorhees
He can hear your screams echo throughout the woods
He knows this area like the back of his hand anyways, so it doesn't take long to locate you
The way you're holding onto your stomach, trying to protect the child from any harm, has Jason seeing nothing but red
He doesn't even want to fool around with the assailant
His machete is plunged into the top of their head before they can even let out a scream
His mood does a complete 180 when he looks back to you, gently taking you in his arms to make sure you weren't hurt
He just sits with you on the ground for a while, rocking you in his arms
He's attempting to comfort you, but there's a part of him that's also trying to comfort himself
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Thomas Hewitt
When he comes home to the door wide open, he immediately panics
You didn't leave him... did you?
He thought you were finally happy
Teary eyed and angered, Thomas storms out into the night to look for you
He had wandered pretty far into the area when he heard your screams
Some crazy family seemed to have taken you from your home
Your screams were immediately cut off by the sound of a chainsaw, cutting right into the door
Your kidnappers jumped up and attempted to flee, but Thomas was quick to catch up
You had your ears covered and your eyes tightly shut when he came back in
He gently pulled your hands down and lifted you up
He carried you home without any hesitation
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Bubba Sawyer
The screams of devastation he lets out can literally be heard from miles around
Doesn't even want to consider that you left him
You've been so good the last few months
There's no way you would have just left like this
After an hour of him frantically searching around the area, he can finally hear your voice
You were talking to the stranger, asking them to please let you go
The fact that they just kept ignoring you made Bubba even more angry
They only finally looked up when they heard the revving of his chainsaw
They didn't even have time to flee before they were cut in half
He runs over to you quickly, placing one hand on your stomach and the other on the side of your face
He was blubbering, promising you he'll do better next time
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Brahms Heelshire
Well this was an incredibly stupid decision on their part
Don't they know that Brahms doesn't ever leave the house?
And wherever you are, he will be too
The kidnapper doesn't even make it out the door with you
The moment Brahms hears your screams, it's over
He emerges from the wall and grabs the kidnapper
You watch as Brahms slams the person's head into the wall, over and over again until they're just a bloody pulp
He storms over to you and grabs you roughly, looking your body over to make sure you and the baby weren't hurt
He traps you in bed with him for the rest of the night
His arms act as a cage, not letting you up for anything
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Norman Bates
Everything is a bit of a blur
He comes home to the place ransacked, you nowhere in sight
You weren't reckless
He knows you wouldn't have done this
He turns to go search for you, and that's when things go black
He finally comes to with you crying in his arms on a dirty floor
An unrecognizable body lays beside him, blood pooling everywhere
But you and his child are safe
That's all that matters now
And he'll make sure nothing like this ever happens again
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Billy Loomis
Billy is immediately in a rage when he sees you're gone
There is no way you're going to leave him
Never
He'll break into every house in this town if he has to
And that's just what he does
It's only after the 7th house that he finds you tied up to a chair
Oh you poor thing
Of course you didn't leave him
The scene before you quickly becomes bloody
A few bodies lie splattered on the floor, Billy tending to the rope around you
He apologizes for letting this happen and kisses you deeply
It's only later that night you hear of 7 families that had been found slashed in their own homes
There really is no limit when it comes to Billy
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Stu Macher
He has a mental breakdown when he sees that you're gone
Goes into a fit of hysterical laughter as he reaches for his knife
He doesn't want to hurt you, but he will if he must
When he hears a scream echo not too far from where he was searching, he sprints to it
And when he sees you being held by some random person, Stu's crazed smile finally drops
He lunges, and things go out of control
Stu is left with a few cuts and bruises, but he doesn't care
He immediately looks you over and makes sure you're not hurt
When he's content, he takes you home and cuddles up with you on the couch, bloody clothes and all
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Vincent Sinclair
Vincent doesn't like to venture too far from home, but he'll do it for you
Seeing that you're gone makes him assume the worse
He marches outside the home, already searching every nook and cranny of this desolate place
And it works out in his favor once he sees you in an old building, knocked unconscious
He smashed his way through the window immediately
The attackers come running towards him, but he was quick to act
You awoke to a bloody mess beside you and a worried Vincent knelt in front of you
He rests his hands on your stomach and you nod, letting him know you and the baby are okay
He's content with this and wraps you in his arms to take you back home
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Bo Sinclair
If he can't have you, no one can
When he's sees you're gone, he assumes you left just like he knew you were going to try
He hunts you down immediately, ready to do what needed to be done, only to see you scared and tied up
Oh, now Bo can't help the growing smile on his face
You didn't want to leave him, and now he can have fun with whoever was stupid enough to do this
Will knock them unconscious and take you both home
He'll make their death a long and painful one
But it's another addition to the wax museum
One that he is most proud of
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Lester Sinclair
He instantly tears up at the idea that you left him
He almost doesn't even want to go after you, but you're also carrying his child
He can't just let you go that easily
He of course checks Ambrose first, and he considers himself lucky to have found you as soon as he did
But seeing you being held by some random person was not what he had planned
Lester's self pity quickly evolves to pure anger
He jumps in and immediately attacks, not even thinking of finding a weapon first
His adrenaline kicks in and it doesn't take long before he kills the kidnapper, suffocating them to death
He then wraps himself up with you, holding you close and apologizing over and over again
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cntloup · 27 days
Text
Medieval AU reader is homeless and a prostitute, mention of beating up and stoning
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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As days go by, the grogginess and the fog in your brain gradually lift off and you remember everything more clearly. What happened on that day and what led you to be in that awful situation. 
A priest caught you talking to a nobleman’s son and accused you of seducing him, tainting his pure soul, tempting him to leave the path of God and tread the way of the devil. 
He screamed in your face, making heads turn in your direction. And in no time, everyone present at the square gathered around you and started shouting and beating you up and if he hadn’t saved you, you’d most probably be stoned to death. 
You remain in bed all day, your heart plenished with gloom and sorrow, silent tears flowing down your eyes. 
But you start to feel a lightness in your heart as you begin to think about him. 'Simon' he has mentioned his name is. Your mind is filled with questions about him.
Until he returns from work and finds you still in bed and the food untouched. 
“Are you alright?” he asks as he enters the room and approaches the bed, eyebrows furrowed in concern. 
You quickly wipe your tears with your hands, “Y-yeah. I'm fine. Sorry for the long stay. I'll be leaving today.” you respond, almost ashamed to be caught in such a state. 
You start to slowly get up, “No, no! You still need to rest.” he prevents you from leaving the bed, gently pushing your shoulders to lay you back down. 
“Do you have anywhere to stay?” he asks, having a slight hunch what the answer is. 
“Not really.” you reply, shameful to admit such a thing, but deciding that honesty is best in this situation. He's been nothing but kind to you. Hopefully he can help you, “In fact, no. I have no home... And no one.” you finally admit, voice slightly shaking with the lump in your throat. 
He nods, “You can stay as long as you want. I'm not home most of the time so you can have the place to yourself for now.” he says so nonchalantly as if it’s nothing to offer your place to a stranger you just met two days ago. 
“Aren’t you worried?” you ask in shock, “Of what?” he questions, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. 
“You don’t know me! I could be a thief! Also aren’t you worried that I would sully your reputation by staying here in your home?” you ask, surprised expression written on your face. 
“I know you’re not a thief. If you were, you would not do what you do. And I couldn’t care less about my ‘reputation’ and what all these pricks think.” he replies earnestly, almost mocking the word ‘reputation’, surprising you even further with his answer. 
You start to find this man more and more interesting by the second. He's like no other man you’ve ever met. He's an enigma for sure, and intriguing to figure out. 
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shawtuzi · 1 year
Note
absolutely insanely obsessed with your nerd!eren hcs <33 what are your thoughts on nerd!eren going down on y/n for the first time?
great question nonnie let’s get into it
what’s that one j cole lyric??? oh yeah i remember ‘haven’t been in pussy since the day i came out one’ now THAT describes nerd!eren perfectly when you first started dating him. sure he’d seen his fair share of pussy when he watched porn but other than that he’d never been lucky enough to be graced with the beautiful sight of a real life woman’s pussy. until now.
“you wanna take ‘em off for me?” you asked referring to your pink cotton panties that had the tiniest wet spot in the center. eren looked up at you through his lashes, his breathing ragged. with shaking hands he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties before slowly pulling them down, he let out the tiniest groan when he saw a thin string of your wetness cling the soft fabric of your panties.
“jesus christ,” eren let out a breathless moan when he finally saw your pussy in all its glory. you brought your hand down and spread your glistening folds giving eren a mouthwatering view of your lil clit that was just begging for some attention. “this right here?” you said slowly circling your clit with your ring and middle finger, “this is what you wanna pay attention to, go ahead and try touching it with your hand first.”
eren gently pressed his thumb against your clit and he swears he could feel a lil heart beat with each second that passed. “mhm now go in slow circles,” your eyes fluttered shut when he did exactly as you instructed. if eren had to choose his drug of choice ever? it would be your facial expressions from him pleasuring you. after a few moments he got greedy and begin to circle his thumb a little too fast and started rubbing his thumb against the right side of your pillowy soft folds. you sat up on your elbows and the sight before you was absolutely adorable. eren looked so concentrated with his glasses fogged up and brows furrowed it was too cute.
“eren, baby, slow down slow down,” you giggled grasping his shaking hand in yours. eren eyes locked with yours, the tiniest pout on his kiss swollen lips. “m’sorry i got a little too excited,” he breathlessly chuckled pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “it’s okay baby, why don’t you try using your mouth this time hm? if you flick your tongue sideways that’s the quickest way to make me cum,” eren brought his face closer to your dripping center, taking a deep inhale. “m’not trying to be weird…you just smell so good,” he hummed pressing a kiss to your aching clit.
eren gave your pussy an experimental lick, the salty sweet taste of you immediately burning into his brain. fuck. at first he was very sloppy, going between swiping his tongue up and down your soaked slit to sucking your folds into his mouth that he swears were as soft as rose petals. your slick was smearing onto his glasses but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care, not when he was between the thighs of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
suddenly his lips wrapped around your clit and he was sucking so fast and so hard you nearly screamed. “f-fuck ren,” you sniffled gripping onto his chocolate locs. eren traced tight little circles around your sensitive bud, relishing in the sweet moans that escaped your plush lips. “am i—hmph doing okay?” eren asked lifting his head just the tiniest bit. the entire lower half his face was coated in your wetness and you had half a mind to yank him up and lick it off him. “you’re doing so good hun, can you use your fingers too? m’so close i can feel it,” oh how eren wanted to kiss that adorable pout on your lips.
eren glanced at your cunt and groaned when he saw your lil hole clench around absolutely nothing. “okay…okay yeah i’ll use my fingers jus’ tell me if it hurts or m’doin it wrong,” his sentence slowly trailed off as he brought his mouth back to your pussy. he brought his middle finger to your entrance and slowly began to push his finger in. “shit that’s tight,” he whimpered, i repeat WHIMPERED!!!! at this time in your relationship you’d yet to have sex with eren yet so if you were squeezing only his finger this tight he couldn’t even imagine how heavenly you’d feel wrapped around his dick.
“put another one in renny c’mon,” you whined bucking your hips up. eren did as he was told and added his ring finger (he’d read online those two fingers were guaranteed to make a girl cum if used correctly and by god was the internet so right). while his fingers pumped into you at a relentless pace he began to flick his tongue back and forth on your neglected clit. “c-curl your fingers r-ren your fingers!” you squealed gripping onto your bed sheets for dear life. eren hummed and curled his fingers just the slightest bit and that’s what finally broke the dam. your thighs immediately clenched shut as you began to practically hump eren’s face, his teeth scraping against your clit in the most delicious way possible.
“god your pussy is so fucking loud, does that mean you’re gonna cum?” eren grunted relishing in the lewd squelches that came from your sopping pussy. you let out loud chants of ‘yes yes yes!’ before coming undone, nearly suffocating eren between your thick thighs. eren’s glasses were completely fogged up and for once you actually preferred to have them off, so you gently took them off and set them aside so you were able to clearly look into eren’s needy orbs. you were the one who just came but he looked completely and utterly fucked out boy was it a sight to see.
eren slowly removed his fingers, licking his lips when he saw how the milky white substance of your cum coated his digits. he brought his fingers to his mouth and greedily sucked your cum off them. “good?” you breathlessly giggled, running your your fingers through his hair. eren let out a quiet ‘mhm’ as he pressed sloppy kisses all over your thighs. “can i keep going? please?” he sounded borderline desperate and you were loving it.
it’s safe to say it was a constant struggle to get eren to keep his hands to himself once he had a taste of you. while you two would be studying in the library his fingers would not so subtly make their way up your skirt and into your panties, rubbing your swollen clit with vigor. sometimes he’d usher you into the nearest bathroom and toss your legs over his shoulders so he could get a little taste, tongue fucking your tight lil pussy until your were creaming all over his tongue.
ahh man i love me some pussydrunk eren.
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denwritesandcries · 2 months
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Hug me Tighter – Sam Carpenter
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Pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: You’re only trying to make your girlfriend take a nap with you, the fact that it’s in a hospital bed after one of the worst nights of your lives doesn't really matter.
Word count: 1,8k.
Content: post-scream VI, cursing, tooth-pudding fluff, mentions of violence, cuddling, pet names, long dialogues, REALLY soft gfs.
A/N: Damn, this might be the sweetest and cheesy thing I’ve ever written. Could also be an AU, since Anika is alive, or just Scream, if they could actually be happy.
English is not my first language.
You realized that you were waking up at a terribly slow pace, as if everything was suddenly in slow motion and even the smallest movement took hours to run and every second was longer than the previous one. Your body feels heavy and comfortably warm, resting on perhaps the best bed in which you've ever slept. You blinked slowly, failing to keep your eyes open, every movement of your eyelids almost making you fall into unconsciousness again.
Your body shudders with the feeling of a long yawn crossing you and you turn your head to bury your face back in the location and go to sleep again, only to be surprised when you come across hot skin instead of what your brain thought was a really soft pillow. It is only then that you register a movement against your back, light and constant, almost as smooth as your own sleepy state, climbing and descending your spine and enveloping you even more in this security bubble almost supernaturally.
Another weight lies between your neck and your head, right at the point of your wrist and there's another heavier resting on the top of your head, although you're sure of the mess your hair should be right now. Your hands grope and instinctively grab a handful of familiar fabric beneath you, feeling the texture of a sweater you knew very well.
“Sam,” your hoarse voice breaks the silence.
You were tempted to let the darkness and the inviting fog of sleep consume you again as you relaxed and held another yawn, but your resting place vibrated with a low laugh.
“‘M sorry, baby. Did I wake you?”
“Nah,” you denied with a satisfied sigh, sinking against her body.
The chin on your head pulled away and the hand on your back stopped and you immediately missed the contact, finally opening your eyes and lifting your head to protest.
“You're feeling better?”
Sam's question catches you off guard and you pause, staring into your girlfriend's soft brown eyes and raised eyebrow with confusion. Frowning, you finally decide to take a look at the place you are in and come across a messy white room with machines nearby. A hospital room.
The events of the last few hours come back to you in a quick, jumbled flash. The confrontation with the Ghostfaces, the deaths, the police, the ambulance... and the surgery, because of course in addition to all the terror and threats of the last few days you also ended up being stabbed.
Well, that explains why you feel so sluggish then. You're high on drugs. That is, if the IV prick in your arm is any indication.
The hand on the back of your neck moves up towards your face, fingers tracing the contour of your chin and jaw, thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek, your body relaxes and you lean into her touch, sighing all too contentedly at the affection. The memory of waking up a lot more groggy before and convincing Sam to lay down too when you found her sitting next to the hospital bed holding your hand tightly slowly returning to your hazy mind. She was a little hesitant at first, but it wasn't that difficult to convince her to hold you with the excuse that it would only be for a few minutes. You bet it must have been a few hours already.
“Hm,” you murmured absently, stretching against her, “I’m definitely feeling much better now.”
“That's good,” your girlfriend huffed softly, “I can't feel my legs in this position anymore.”
That caught your attention.
“Am I too heavy?” You ask, lifting your head to examine her for any bruises from the previous fight, “I can move if it’s hurting you.”
“No,” She squeezes you tighter quickly, “I’m good here.”
Sam's own eyes were half-lidded, almost closing over the last few minutes you were asleep, but she refused to give in to the urge to doze off too. It would have been such a waste when she could just hug you and breathe properly for the first time since the last few hellish weeks you've all had.
The TV on the wall had long since been muted, with the image of some random animal documentary flickering in the background. Sam's head rested against the pillows and your body lay happily spread over hers – and she looked perfectly satisfied for someone who had complained and complained about your puppy dog ​​eyes before.
Somewhere between convincing Sam to lie down and pretending to pay attention to the screen, you ended up falling asleep, one of your arms hanging lazily over the side of the bed. Sam realized this instantly, feeling your weight finally relax on her. It made her relax too. Not completely. Sam was never completely relaxed, no matter how tired she was, not anymore, especially not after a night like that. But she managed to feel good enough to enjoy the moment.
The environment was as welcoming as any hospital could be, but her embrace brought a sense of security that lulled you perfectly to sleep and the knowledge that everyone was okay and in the next room allowed Sam to let her guard down. Yet falling asleep and losing that, the feeling that nothing could happen as long as she held you tight and ran her fingers over your warm skin, seeing and hearing every sleepy sound and movement you made – from a tired sigh as you fit, to one of your hands founding the collar of her sweater and grabbing it, holding her close – it would be a waste.
“You sure?” You hesitate, searching her eyes for any hint of hidden discomfort.
Sam sighs, nodding: “You wouldn’t believe how comfortable I am right now.”
“Okay then,” you rest your ear on her chest, feeling her head nod and her heart bumping, still a little high. A yawn crosses your lips, “But let me know if you need me to move.”
She hums in response and you fall into a comfortable silence for a while, the sound of machines running and your soft breaths in the same rhythm left you trying your hardest not to fall asleep again until you felt your girlfriend's chest vibrate beneath you again in a barely contained laugh.
“You’re cute when you’re tired.”
“Huh?” you muttered, lifting your drooping head and finally refocusing your vision on her.
“I should probably get up now, let you get some rest.” Sam said, reluctantly removing her arms from you so she could move away.
You shook your head, grabbing one of her hands and letting them fall to the side of the bed, swinging freely in the air.
“No, I’m good here.” You echoed, denying nonchalantly. You let your head find a place on her neck, making her lie back against the pillows.
Sam sighed against you slowly, much more out of satisfaction – and relief – than annoyance at your insistence, returning to the task of running her fingers down your back until you spoke again.
“Where’s Tara?” You ask, voice muffled by the face buried in her neck, “And the twins?”
“They're watching Anika.” She responds and you get alarmed, before Sam reassures you, “She's gonna be alright, she just needs to stay in the hospital for a while longer. And also a lot of rest. Like you, by the way.”
“I am resting.”
If Sam hadn't been fighting sleep for over an hour now, she would have a wide, stupid grin plastered on her face at the sound of your indignant mumble. Since that wasn't the case, she contented herself with a small smile.
“Whatever you say, amor.”
She surrenders, completely this time, without any more false attempts to leave. Sam felt as if you were the one rocking her and not the other way around, as if nothing else could touch her, even for a little while. There were no worries about horrible jobs, breakdowns in therapy, pressure with college exams and much less paranoia about the existence of cinematic serial killers. Nothing else could exist in your – literal – white room. Just the two of you in that small bed.
Each synchronized breath of your chest next to hers pressed her own ribs, the delicate breath sending delicious shivers down her spine and making her completely aware of how close your bodies were and shocking her at how it still didn't feel close enough.
“I love you,” she says. Rasped, you barely hear it. “I love you so freaking much that sometimes I just want to drown into your chest and curl up between your ribs, with your heart.” She takes a breath, then pauses, hesitantly: “...Is that too weird?”
“...Well,” you gasp, heart completely racing against your ears, “No weirder than what we already go through on a daily basis, I guess.”
Sam groaned at your response, feeling like a lovesick teenager in one of the movies Tara and Mindy love to make fun of. Rambling poetically about her passion.
But, screw it, that's exactly what she is, right? Sam thought. Let her have it. She deserves it.
(Her therapist would definitely pat her on the back for that thought.)
Unlike what Sam thought she should feel with the realization of that thought, her heart didn't skip a beat uncomfortably, her hands didn't get sweaty and cold with the doubt of how to deal with this. It kept pounding in that same slow, steady, familiar rhythm, with one of the most precious and loved people of her life completely aware of how she felt.
“I feel like drowning into your chest all the time too.”
Her favorite place in the world was anywhere you were together and it was physically impossible to be closer than that at the moment, although she wouldn't give up trying.
It was pure and simple happiness. Warmth and security that captured her stomach and left it churning with what felt like a million bubbles popping simultaneously.
When you first came to her life and Sam realized being falling for you, she thought her love would swallow her. That it would be something she would keep to herself until it exploded. You seemed to have made it your mission to prove her otherwise.
“I didn’t say ‘all the time’ tho.”
Here you were, together and fine.
“Oh, shut up.”
Your grip on Sam's hand tightened in very bad feigned irritation and when you rose quickly to give her a kiss, your girlfriend burst into laughter and your lips hit her strong jaw instead.
“That tickles, baby.”
“I was shooting for your lips, but you moved.” You simply shrugged, leaning into her again and this time she met you on the way, a stupid smile growing between you and breaking the kiss too soon. You lay back down and Sam took a long breath, leaving one last kiss on your forehead.
This time, when her head feels heavy and droops from sleep, Sam does nothing to stop it, letting the feeling finally consume her.
Nothing, not even in her most vivid fantasies, had ever been so perfect.
And if by chance Tara ends up sending Sam a photo of the two of you napping the next day when everyone is getting ready to go home and it becomes the new wallpaper on her phone, well… that's nobody's business.
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hyewka · 1 year
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*ೃ unconventional sex
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synopsis. where they'd like to fuck outside of the boring ol’ bedroom.
warnings/notes. mostly sub!reader (beomgyu's a tad bit subby), no protection + creampie, mention of impregnation for soobin, dry humping, fingering, groping, bulge kink, reader's older with beomgyu (use of noona honorifics), barely proofread + varying lengths with each extract, does not include yeonkai !
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★ choi soobin |
ever since the overwhelming amount of layoffs widespread throughout your entire company had started to hit your specific department, you've been coming from work exhausted, ready to slip off your torturous heels the moment you key your door open, stumbling over to your bedroom to finally throwing yourself on the comfort cushion you've been drooling about all day. usually, you'd take the time to stare up your ceiling contemplating the day, and the day before, and the day before...until your brain picks up the overly familiar rattle of the door—each time, startling you awake with the realization that you were about to drift to sleep in your work clothes, without taking a shower, makeup still very much on your face. during these days are you especially grateful with your boyfriend's struggle with the door despite living here for the past two years has persisted, because god knows soobin would've opted to let you sleep instead of waking you up.
soobin gets home, you go take a shower, then prepare yourself for bed as he enters the bathroom. its a routine you've grown accustomed to. today was no different— your brain is on its own lookout of soobin's signal entrance. when you hear it, your shut eyes immediately fly open like muscle memory, your half-nap reached its inevitable end. you don't expect the moment you sit yourself up, for soobin's large figure to come through the door, wobbly as he walks over to you and engulf you in the biggest, most suffocating, loving embrace, basically tackling your body back down on your bed. "soobin?" you whisper, his cologne overpowering your sense as you quickly realize that your body compared to his would not survive if he stayed another full minute on top of you.
"i have to go shower baby." you wheeze out, "and you're about to crush me." he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck as retaliation, his breathing pattern almost immediately syncing to yours. "shhh, i missed you." he whispers groggily— you sure weren't the only one drained after work.
soobin was a big baby in that sense, feeling his lips forming into a pout against your neck. the paradox of him being a broad man with a towering figure makes it a lot more endearing, and also hilarious, making you burst into a series of giggles...but not enough to let him continue crushing every bone of your body. "soobinnn," you whine trying to wriggle yourself off his hold but failing for the hundredth time, "i really, urgently, seriously need to take a shower."
after a few beats of silence, and you thinking you might just give up and fall asleep under him, he speaks up, lifting his head from the comfort of your breasts, his eyes doe-like, "let's take one together then." you think he's joking and so naturally you're sent to another fit of giggles and half laughs...until it quickly dies down with his very more-than-serious face, making your brows perk up in disbelief, eyes wide. "hey, you're acting like it's the first time!" he defensively retorts at the judgy expression spread across your face before his lips form into a comically exaggerated pout, his bottom lip sticking out, making sure to force his dimples as bonus. "plus, we'd be saving up on water bills ...you know?"
you should've known better, and really thought it over, because a shower with soobin would never end without having your cheek pressed against the shower's glass panel, steam long fogging up the view, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours, palm flat against the panel, head drooped down to your neck, sloppy purple splotches displayed all over, feather kisses on your overly fresh hickeys, his hips unrelenting, fucking your cunt closest thing to doggy style space would allow— the brutal, pornographic sound of skin slapping on skin mixture with your uncontrolled moans almost loud enough to drown out the shower head.
his length slips in and out of your cunt in a rhythmic speed, his breathing so heavy and whines so loud, getting your legs to buckle when he hits your cervix, "shit, soobin— soobin, slow down" your mewls hitch when water runs down from your face to the entrance of your mouth, choking momentarily. your head is foggy, light with ecstasy the more he drills his dick far deep inside you— eyes slowly rolling to the back of your head, feeling your energy quickly replenish. but soobin isn't done yet, oh, far from it.
you're too far gone to differentiate between water and your tears as soobin turns you around swiftly, making sure he doesn't slip out as his dick's still far buried in your warm pussy, switching positions as he pushes you to have your back against the tiled shower wall. you muster the energy to weakly shake your head, your chest heaving, "c-can't, binnie, i can't—no more-!" but soobin can't help himself, so horny over the reveal of your messy face, red with a mixture of drool and water seeping out the corner of your pink swollen lips as a result of his rough kissing. his calloused finger display over the bulge in your tummy and soobin loses the last bit of his sanity. "sorry baby," he says with much pity, his large hands positioning your wobbly legs to cling around his waist, "i just missed you...just need you—need my pretty's cunt so, so bad."
the steam enough to make both of you light headed as soobin's thrusts slower than before, thrusts calculated so surely and patient, your hand claw at his bare back every time he roughly hits a spot, hyper aware of every vein against your walls, soobin's head falling back as he groans, mouth slightly open at feeling your tight pussy clench around his dick, the running water hitting his face, hair further plastering to his forehead, his slippery hands bruising your waist the tighter his hold gets—soobin's never this rough, to the point your body jerks when his large hands start fondling your perked up tits, lips parted as he blatantly stares down.
"gonna fuck a baby into you," he breathes out crazed, his long lived fantasy of getting you full and big with his baby driving him to roughly land a passionate, wet kiss before attaching his lips to your hard nipples, sucking so earnestly while his thrusts become unrelenting, picking up, erratic as he detaches, eyes fixated on the long string of saliva connecting his mouth and your swollen nipple, oh how addicted to you he was. with every frantic thrust, your breasts bounced, slapping together, a lewd view he could stare at for hours...and hours...and hours.
you could almost pass out from the overwhelming sensation, your body long overheated, fog submerging around your feet, but soobin's degrading laugh gets you to flutter your eyes open, "fuck, these breasts would look so pretty swollen—don't you think? you'd like that right?" your lids are heavy over your eyes as you sniffle your runny nose, not exactly processing his words. "you want me to get you pregnant, don't you?"
bonus. soobin who bathes you, a sweet, caring boyfriend making sure to keep your smaller figure protected, washing your hair so in love with every aspect that makes up who you are—knowing he made the right decision with choosing you. your loving boyfriend who whispers in your ear, with your back against his chest, the bubble bath both healing and relaxing, "keep it in." the transition of his cute giggles to the low rumble of his voice near your ears has you blinking confused, yet you still find yourself nodding, completely under his trance. soobin who's giddy, having your body completely engulfed by him, no space between the two of you with his hand wrapped around your waist, snuggling close to you, a grin so wide as you both quickly fall into sleep, some of his seed leaking down your leg, your swollen abused cunt unable to fully follow through your boyfriend's command.
★ choi beomgyu |
beomgyu was never known as being an overly... patient fellow which would explain a lot. like the time he burst into a woman's bathroom because he just could not wait a few more minutes until the janitor could unlock the jammed door for the mens', or when he downed a spiked drink a second before he could be told that he was supposed pour it down the sink, or...now, when he has you pinned on the floor, clearly not in the mood to stop and take it to bed. "beomgyu—" you gasp when he starts nibbling on your earlobe, grounding his erection in between your legs. you start laughing nervously when he slowly trails his kisses down to your exposed collarbones, "let's get up, beomgyu, baby stop playing around."
he whines, starting to teasingly suck, slight nip on your skin. and you just...can't wrap your head around the position you're in—a few seconds ago, you were watching a cute movie with your beloved, adorable boyfriend and suddenly the teasing jokes started, then the addition of pillow fights on each other had you both toppling to the floor, giggling like little children. and now you had your boyfriend on top of you, not willing to negotiate and do the deed on the couch at the least— something a little more comfortable than a hardwood floor with no carpet furnishing. instead he busies himself, already rutting his hips against the aching need between your thighs, soft groans magnified to your ears, his breathing getting heavier and faster by the minute.
"beomgyu, we're on the floor." you repeat for the hundredth time— in between the startled gasps every time he got just a tinge bit rougher—thinking it'd get to his head this time. "who cares?" he whines, his sly hands already finding their way under your shirt, ministrating, fondling like the horny dog he was. "you're so fucking hot noona, can't control myself."
patience was never beomgyu's thing. having your shirt haphazardly pulled over your tits because he was just too goddamn impatient to undress you properly, your panties bunched to the side in frantic urgency as he finally prods his leaking tip at your entrance, sliding it in and out to prep, light headed as he bites down on his bottom lip, before he decides he just can't wait any longer, voicing his sorries over and over again as he fully takes you in unexpectedly, stretching out your tight pussy, earning him a delicious, drawled, loud moan of his name. and oh, does he fucking lose it. "louder, say it louder."
beomgyu who pounds you senseless, hand reaching up to grope your breasts every time he gets close, strained groans when he spills inside you again, hips still unrelenting, fucking his seed into you, his sweaty shuddering body looming over you when he stops for a second to catch his breath, you similarly worn out, head hazy, barely able to use your strained voice as you had lost it by the...you could barely keep count. "such a fucking cumslut, huh? taking everything so well noona," he babbles with each sudden thrust to your pliant body, you unable to arch your back from utter exhaustion, "love you, love you so much baby."
bonus. beomgyu's favorite locations? many, but the floor always takes the cake. the animalistic nature of just pure horniness and sweaty backs on the cold wooden floor—it's beomgyu's thing.
★ kang taehyun |
it starts off with the subtle brush of his hand on the roundness of your ass, a few times and you pretend it's nothing. then came a squeeze, right as you were washing dishes with your mom, the suddenness of the action making you freeze for a second, the polite gentleman facade he put up with your mom as he converses, leaving yet another good impression. it all confuses you— how he's able to play it off like nothing while you were practically breaking out in cold sweat. it couldn't be accidental. nothing is accidental with taehyun.
you weren't nervous about introducing taehyun to your (rather conservative) family—he was unanimously picked as your best partner thus far by even your closest friends, which you trust the judgement of. you believe it too, that he's the nicest, most genuine guy you're lucky having to call yours...but it seemed that with each passing minute, you were questioning your decisions.
taehyun isn't a fan of typical pda: hand holding, kissing, embraces that overstayed its welcome, but oh was he particularly bold with everything else. sitting at your family's home dining table, the one you grew up with, reminiscing the countless mornings of rushed breakfasts as a teenager— even recognizing the initials you carved by the edge of the table, it all rushes back to you and you feel guilty for not visiting as often as you should have. your mom who displays a feast on the table, ranging from delicates to turkey and fried rice—your father sitting right by her, uncles and aunties filling the remaining seats, everyone joyfully eating and conversing amongst themselves before your mother clears her throat to finally quench her curiosity.
occupation, the college he graduated, plans for marriage, kids, all of which he answered with perfectly satisfactory answers earning him a few swoons from the older women, to which he tried to be humble making the women get even more swoonful over the generous flaunt of his pearly whites...all the while you sit there at the edge of your seat metaphorically and physically, more than aware of the hand toying with the hem of your dress, dangerously inching closer and closer to your inner thighs.
you could barely hold up your glass of wine without having your hands shake just so slightly at the dangerous game taehyun was more than willing to play. you try to clear your throat, anything to get him to wake up, and remind him where you were, but he seemed nonchalant, picking at his food, eating at small portions, participating in conversation when prompted.
"why aren't you eating y/n? i cooked you your favorite foods!" your mom pouts, drawing the attention of the entire family, all eyes on you—which was just great. just great as taehyun's hand hid under the tablecloth, finger long stuffed in your cunt, your panties bunched to the side as he had his way with you, insanely slow as he decides to shove a second finger making your eyes widen, quickly reaching for the glass to drown out any noise you might slip up—but taehyun's gaze is focused on you, following the crowd, awaiting your answer to the pending question. "um, uh—yeah, sorry, i-i ate a few hours ago."
lies. when it's time for a movie and conveniently, you get to the living room last as you went out to fetch everyone a soda, realizing that you'd have to sit on the floor. taehyun catches you looking for a place to sit, pulling on your dress to catch your attention. when you turn around raising an eyebrow, he pats his lap, motioning to you to come sit, but you shake your head.
you can't, and frankly you don't trust taehyun to not...do something. but he tuts at you, patting his thighs again, this time, mouthing it to you, "sit."
"aww, you guys are so adorable, y/nie go, go, sit." you snap your head to see your mother, who's been invested with your relationship the entire dinner night. "no, mom, i don't want to make him uncomfortable i-"
"what kind of man would be uncomfortable with his girlfriend sitting on his lap?" your uncle speaks up and now all of a sudden, everyone's pitching in the conversation to the point you might just be driven to insanity with all the back and forth. when everyone settles down and the lights are shut off, you feel taehyun's chin resting on your shoulder, a cute gesture until you hear him whisper, "try to stay quiet baby."
the real intentions of kang taehyun were always less than pure.
bonus. spilling juice on your white dress with purpose, unknownst to everyone else who're quick to take out napkins and dab it on the stain, panicked over the ruined white—taehyun taking it as an opportunity to come off as caring as possible to your family, heightening his approval ratings, excusing you both to the bathroom so he can try and clean it off. it was a win win, getting your parents approval, and pounding you in the same bathroom you got potty trained.
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a/n. my obsession with soobin + pregnancy talk is detrimental to my mental being holy shit 😂 wanted to try out some footing with different settings, a little bit of a headcanon practice and dom!txt as i have practically almost nothing of the sort in my masterlist that isn't totally fucked up. thoughts and overall feedback are extremely helpful and appreciated, it motivates me greatly. to all those who wanted sub soobin, i promise i'll serve a full fic soon ❤
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deepouterspacecandy · 2 months
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Ex Machina
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I received so many requests for period sex with Abby. This is a sensitive topic, difficult to write with the intention of fitting a wide array of readers, as our experiences with our bodies are all so different. Anyhow, this is my interpretation of Abby and intimacy during your time of the month. I hope I did it justice. Thank you for reading. 18+ only.
From the moment you crawled out of bed, a stubborn headache has plagued you, a dull throb pulsating behind your eyes. Sunlight floods your apartment, drenching the lush green leaves of all your plants while simultaneously intensifying the pounding in your head.
You glance out into the stadium and spot Abby leading the new recruits through drills on the field below. All week they’ve been running late, and although she’s usually home by now, it seems like today will be another exception.
Perhaps it’s for the best since you’re teetering on the brink of a bad mood.
You realize you should eat the breakfast she’s prepared for you, but your stomach is churning. Exhaustion burdens every inch of your body, as if your bones themselves are weary, the brain fog and bloat leaving you miserable.
While some months are more challenging than others, your period is never a pleasant ordeal. Growing up, the focus was on survival rather than on understanding the intricacies of womanhood and how to navigate them. Now, the demands of being actively involved in the WLF have made it difficult for you to prioritize and manage your health. It doesn’t help that your superiors interpret any actions that undermine your performance or distract you from the objective as a sign of weakness.
In this arena, Abby is an absolute godsend. With her background as a trained medic, and raised by a phenomenal doctor, she is also a highly empathetic partner to you.
Next to your breakfast, Abby has thoughtfully prepared a thermos of ginger tea, its peppery aroma offering respite from your nausea as you drink it down.
Abby’s concern about how much you’ve been pushing yourself has reached a peak, and given how awful you feel, you’re starting to see her point.
This time around, it’s pure luck that your days off align perfectly with your desperate need for them. Counting your blessings, you drag yourself to the shower, hopeful that the hot water will alleviate some of your agony.
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Abby strolls through the door in the late afternoon, and you immediately catch a whiff of citrus and jasmine as she places a vase of fresh flowers on your bedside table. They’re a gesture of peace to make up for being gone so long, but she’ll always find an excuse to bring you fresh flowers. 
“I’m sorry it ran so late today,” she says, letting out an exasperated sigh as she kicks off her boots. “God, what a shitshow. Let’s run away together, yeah?”
“Ask me again in a few days,” you say.
While you dig through your shared drawers, she observes you swapping your pajamas for one of her roomiest shirts. The corners of her mouth lift in a devilish grin, giving her an air of playful wickedness.
“Still feeling rough?” she asks, plunking herself onto your bed.
“I think it’s worse this time around,” you explain, your hands cradling your sore stomach, finding comfort in the soft fabric against your skin. “Everything aches, and I’m so bloated. It really sucks.”
“Well, you look beautiful,” Abby says.
You go the extra mile to give her the most over-the-top eye roll you can manage. She’s a sweetheart, but her words can’t mask the overwhelming sense of detachment you feel from your body, intensifying your self-doubt.
“I’m serious,” she says, reaching out to pull you closer. “Have I ever lied to you?”
You can’t recall a time when she’s made you doubt her—the integrity of this woman is unwavering. Her straightforwardness knows no bounds, often leaving others taken aback. It is ultimately one of the traits you admire the most in her.
“I don’t feel very beautiful, I guess.”
Abby’s fingertips glide down the back of your thighs, tickling the sensitive skin behind your knees, before trailing back up to toy with the hem of your shirt. Her shirt, technically speaking.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks.
Her question carries a familiar undertone, one you’ve been meaning to address for a while now.
During Abby’s cycle, her sexual desire intensifies to an unprecedented level, and she’s insatiable.
One night, after your shift let out early, you walked in on her. The blonde wisps of hair framing her face were curled with sweat as she touched herself under a blanket on the couch. You recall vividly her delirious gaze, head tilted back on the plush armrest as she rode the waves of her pleasure, filling your apartment with the sweetest sounds.
It was in the early phases of your relationship, and you were so surprised when you entered the room that you hesitated—torn between quietly leaving to let her finish or offering to help her. Luckily, she decided on your behalf.
Instead of panicking and hurriedly covering up her deed, Abby continued without missing a beat—beckoning you to join her. It was one of the most sensual experiences of your life, and the memory of it still makes your heart race.
But for you, it’s different.
It’s a constant battle of messiness, discomfort, and frustration. When your hormones are fluctuating and you feel a spike of arousal, the thought of Abby seeing you in that state halts your excitement.
In the past, she mentioned how her lifestyle influences her body’s bleeding patterns. She attributes her active lifestyle and high stress levels to a lighter flow. But she also understands that certain conditions are beyond control for many women, affecting their relationship with their cycle and the way their body reacts to it.
“How the heck do you do it?” you ask, your fingers connecting with hers as you delicately flip her hands over to trace the deep lines etched on her palm. “You get so confident.”
Every day, without fail, you find yourself entranced by the beauty of her ethereal blue eyes as she seems to peer directly into your soul. There’s a special intimacy in truly knowing someone, beyond the flaws and all the fears.
She has a keen sense of what you’re grappling with, often before you can articulate it.
Her brow quirks as she rakes her teeth over her pouty bottom lip.
“Horny, you mean?” she smirks.
“Is that what it is for you?”
“Not always,” she explains, as her fingers move to brush against the front of your thighs, igniting a tingling warmth between them. “But I listen to what my body tells me. It’s how I heal.”
“What does your body tell you?” you ask.
“It depends,” she says, looking up at you through her soft lashes. “Sometimes it tells me to rest—other times, I need a little more than that. But I have bad days, too.”
You reflect on your relationship with your body and how Abby’s presence has transformed your self-perception over the years. She empowers you to find security in your own skin, even when you’re clawing the walls of your existence.  
Even on the toughest days to practice self-love, she’s right there by your side, offering that extra boost to keep you going.
“It doesn’t gross you out, the thought of touching me when I’m like this?”
Abby lets out a surprised chuckle, gently placing her hands on your hips for a reassuring squeeze.
“Baby,” she says with an air of certainty. “There’s nothing you can do that would ever disgust me. This just reminds me how much of a badass you are. I’m a pretty big fan, if you haven’t noticed.”
You nod in acceptance as your fingers weave into her hair, gently tugging the long braid that rests on the nape of her neck. She fixes her busy gaze on you, brimming with an unmistakable and sincere affection, patiently awaiting your next move.
“It fucking hurts,” you say.
“Inside?” she asks.
“Everywhere,” you whisper.
Her lips meet the swollen part of your stomach as she leans forward, pressing kisses from your belly button to your hips. Her methodical nature shines through, ensuring she leaves no tender spot untouched.
When she glances up at you again, her eyes are heavy with hunger.
“Do you want me to make it better?”
It’s a lot to consider, and she watches you closely, anticipating your reaction as you try to process it all. If it bothers you, it will surely bother her, too—but can the reverse be true? If you have a pleasant experience, is it possible that Abby will also have a good time?
“Can we sleep on it?” you ask. “I’m just, you know—worried, I guess.”
Abby invites you to sit on her lap and when you oblige, she snuggles into the curve of your neck, sighing happily.
“Of course we can.”
Noticing your musing, she leans back to get a solid look at you. When your eyes meet, she crinkles her nose, a silent, impish signal she frequently uses to let you know she’s with you, even from across the room.
“What’s going on in that pretty head, huh?” she asks.
“I’m just glad you’re wearing dark pants right now,” you snort. “This cup thingy you got for me is working okay, though.”
“Well, thank God for that!” she huffs. “What would I ever do with bloodstains on my pants—can you imagine? Not this girl.”
“You’re on a roll today, aren’t you?”
Abby’s tongue darts out, lingering at the corner of her mouth until you dig your fingers into the ticklish spot at the small of her back, causing her to squirm with laughter. She quickly unravels under your ministrations, her voice transforming into something high and wild as she reprimands you through wheezing breaths.
“See, I warned you about teaching me how to lift weights!” you giggle, your grip on her wrists unforgiving as you pin her hands behind her. “Game over, Anderson.”
“You think so?” she chuckles breathlessly. “Hey—can I show you something?”
“You can try!”
Abby regains control of her hands and flips you onto your back with such ease it renders you utterly defenseless.
“Now what?” she asks.
She has you trapped, pressing your body and hands firmly against the mattress, careful to avoid your abdomen. It gives you an advantage, an edge to steal the upper hand, and with a sudden burst of energy, you buck into her, entangling your legs with hers in a fierce grapple. By the end of your wrestling match, your muscles burn from exertion, your focus shifting solely to the simmer of adrenaline working its way down your spine.
You leave behind any awareness of your physical state or appearance in favour of being in her arms, and she’s delighted to have you there.
Her rugged hands rest on your belly, rising and falling in sync with your breathing, and you’re weightless. The pain that had been radiating at your core all day has subsided, the niggling headache lifting from your temples as Abby works out the tension at the base of your skull with her fingertips.
Prominent veins pulse along her powerful arms in thick blue vines and as you trace them, her nostrils flare. The most innate manifestation of life and simply being alive underneath your touch.
“Let’s grab some dinner, yeah?” Abby pants, dropping a playful, squeaking kiss between your brows. “I’m starved. I need sustenance.”
“What else is new?” you tease. “You’re my God and my freaking machine.”
“Quit beating me up then,” she groans, a smile dancing on her lips. “If you build up my appetite, it’s only fair to replenish me. Do you want me to waste away or what?”
“Listen to you!”
She turns her face away, attempting to hide her jubilance.
“Bullying me—using up all my energy,” she says, jutting out her bottom lip. “Poor Abby is what they all say. You should hear them!”
“You literally started it,” you blurt. “I’m so done with you.”
Before you can roll off the bed, she quickly snatches you up and buries herself against your chest. Trying to suppress your triumph, a whirlwind of flutters spins between your ribs, like a miniature tornado poised to absorb everything in its path.
“Please don’t ever be done with me,” Abby murmurs. “Okay?”
Tendrils of soft hair spill out from her braid, and you can’t resist the urge to twist the golden threads around your finger, stroking her freckled shoulders with your other hand.
“Forever is a long time,” you murmur.
“It sure doesn’t feel like it,” she says, wrapping herself around you.
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After months of waiting, the chow hall is finally serving your favourite meal, and you’re in a state of pure bliss as you savour it with your friends and comrades.
Manny is on his grind, recounting the funniest stories he can think of, causing uproarious laughter and taking harmless jabs at everyone at the table. Among her squad, Abby truly shines, earning admiration for her ability to treat everyone as equals, regardless of her superior position.
She is a leader in the field, but at home, she’s everyone’s trusted friend.
As you reminisce about a time before you knew her, the thought of living without the familiar scent of pine soap and the comforting feeling of her arms around you while you sleep becomes hazy and indistinct. The sensation of her breath against your neck as you wake up each morning is a treasured gift that you never want to lose sight of.  
Under the table, you give Abby’s knee a gentle squeeze. She instinctively laces her fingers with yours, fully focused on Manny’s irrational fear of a girl storing her toothbrush in his apartment.
Only when your hand glides up her thigh does she split her focus, giving you a knowing sidelong glance.
Abby subtly adjusts herself to accommodate you, widening the space between her legs as the edges of her ear takes on the prettiest pink hue.
You toy with the button on her cargo pants, trailing your fingernail along the zipper, and despite her best efforts to focus on the surrounding conversations, she’s fading fast. Absentmindedly nibbling at the dry patches on her lip, she blinks with a slightly delayed rhythm, absorbed by your attention.  
With each seductive surge, the intensity of your pain subsides, smoothing out its sharp edges.
“It’s your fault,” Manny explains, addressing Abby directly, the tines of his fork slicing the air. “I never had these problems when you were my roommate.”
Foreseeing a mental showdown, you slowly retreat to your lap, but Abby immediately tugs your hand back.
You know precisely what is going through her mind.
“Don’t blame your mommy issues on me, Alvarez,” Abby retorts. “Shit or get off the pot.”
Your fingers scratch a torturous path across her hard thigh, only stopping to pay special attention to the rigid seam of her pants before traveling back to her knee. Abby clears her throat and straightens up, indicating that she’s about three seconds away from a polite excuse to refuse dessert and propose an early night.
You beat her to the punch by deftly gathering your trays, offering a nod of farewell to everyone in the room and letting your girl know it’s time for her to take you to bed.
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Rain trickles in silver ribbons along the panoramic windows of your apartment, flashes of lightning illuminating the night sky as the occasional rumble of thunder punctuates a mounting storm. Abby places candles on every tabletop and surface, creating a dim, flickering glow in anticipation of a possible power outage.
The crackling hiss of each match strike pulls you deeper into a state of relaxation.
She abandons the matchbox and, in one fluid motion, lifts her sweater up and over her head, tossing it onto the rocking chair in your reading nook.
Her back is a tapestry of sculpted muscles and you’re eager to feel them twitch and flex. It’s time to put an end to the silence that has been lingering between you since dinner.
“Abby?”
She hums, spinning around to face you, her expression lifting with an affectionate smile.
“What’s up?” she asks.
“I trust you.”
All traces of her tough exterior vanish as her determined strides carry her across the room, closing the distance between you. It’s a compliment that you know she will hold in high regard.
“I’m glad,” she whispers. “You’re always safe with me, okay?”
Abby’s eyes are a fragment of the ocean, a world of mystery and depth pulling you in. Her touch is gentle as she cups your jaw, delicately tilting your chin toward hers.
“I mean it,” she says.
The moment your lips meet, the taste of her intoxicates you, the room a dizzy blur of raindrops and candlelight. Her eager hands greedily explore the curves of your body, and the languid pace is torment. Taking her lower lip between your teeth, you suck her gently into your mouth, rocking against her for relief.
“Please let me take care of you,” Abby says.
You guide her hand between your legs, giving her the freedom to ease your pain. The surface is so slick that her fingers glide over your smooth folds, circling your swollen clit until you’re whimpering against her throat.
“Fuck, you feel good,” she whines. “You’re so wet, I can’t even take it.”
“Keep this up and I won’t last long,” you giggle.
Abby lifts you and sets you down on the bed, and that’s when you see it for the first time. Faint streaks of you staining her fingertips.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say.
“Look at me,” Abby murmurs, trailing kisses up your thigh. “You are so incredibly sexy like this.”
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b00kdiary · 3 months
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A Ballad of Flame & Shadow | Azriel
Alex was falling between worlds- falling through worlds- until she landed with Bryce someplace that was definitely not Hel.
And now there was a male before her, the most beautiful male she had ever seen and something other than fear sparked in her heart.
Wattpad & Ao3
CHAPTER ONE:
One moment Bryce and I were running toward the Gate, leaping through the Gate into the chasm of darkness beyond, Rigelus screaming at our backs.
And then the next we were falling.
Not through the worlds but across – as if some God had gripped us by our hair and yanked us sideways, pulling, pulling, pulling, our screams greeting nothing but stars and darkness and emptiness.
There was a pressure in my brain like someone had wrapped their hands around my throat and squeezed, a tightening that felt like fingers pressing down on my eyes to cave them in.
And so much screaming.
And then... grass.
I panted, a burst of pain lancing through my right shoulder as it collided with the ground, as it collided with the green grass below me. Though my head spun so wildly that for a second, I wondered if it was even real.
But I felt it, under my hands, beyond the Harpy's blood coating my palms and fingers, crusting under my nails- grass, dense and damp with condensation.
Hel had grass.
"Hel," I breathed, and it was pure panic that overrode the spinning in my mind, the pain in my body. Pure and undiluted panic as I realised where we had appeared, what likely prowled these lands. "Bryce-Bryce!"
My knees shook as I rose onto them, and I could feel my body begging me to stop- stop moving, stop fighting, just stop. But I didn't, couldn't, not as flashes of Hel's pets passed my mind's eye, those horrific creatures that had attacked Lunathion that day.
Deathstalkers, Kristallos demons- they would rip us to shreds before we even found Aidas.
"Bryce!" I called again- not too loud. I lifted my chin and I saw the Starsword, a few feet in front of me and then I glanced back- to where Bryce lay groaning on the floor. "Shit, shit-"
The air felt different here, thinner, and as I scrambled over to Bryce, half-crawling, half-stumbling, it took all my strength to make it those few feet before I dropped to my knees at her side.
"Alex," Bryce gritted her teeth as I rolled her onto her back, her tan skin ashen her body convulsing. Running from Rigelus's power, opening the Gate with the Horn, getting us both through to Hel- it was all too much for her.
"We need to go," Her amber eyes darted frantically, to and from my face to the darkening sky above. But even her hand clasping mine felt weak, and I knew that she was on the verge of passing out. "Death-deathstalkers, they'll kill us, Alex, we need to go."
"I know, I know," I rasped and something helpless burned behind my eyes as I held her hand, and watched her sneakers dig into the ground for leverage before giving out a second later. "We're not going to make it far with you like this Bryce, we need shelter, we need-"
The mists before us parted and the words died on my tongue as I beheld the land before me- beheld a sight of beauty. A flowing, crystal blue river, a lawn of verdant green grass, kept green grass, and beyond.
"A city," I gasped, and Bryce must not have heard me, not as she tried and failed to bend her knees under her. But I saw it, saw a city of stars and moonlight and prosperity, the kind that Ruhn had shown me pictures of when he had travelled across the Continents.
But there, through the mystified fog and past that winding river- movement. Demons of Hel.
"Bryce, I know you're tired, but you need to get up," I grab her limpening arm, tucking it against me and something twists in my gut at the wet feel of the Harpy's blood on her clothes and mine, the smell that thickened as I grabbed Bryce by the waist to haul her to her feet.
Her amber eyes opened; her head tilted back against my forearm blinking up at my face. And then her eyes widened.
"Alex-"
Too late.
Steel slid against my throat, cold and sharp and I froze.
A male spoke, like death incarnate against the shell of my ear, so close that I felt a tremor ripple across my skin. I didn't recognise the language, but with the hushed tone and the press of that blade against my carotid, I knew not to move.
I didn't even dare breathe.
Bryce grunted as she slipped from my grip and back to the grass, and as her eyes flashed to whatever demon stood behind me, I saw it in her face- her calling to her powers, just as I did now. But it splintered and cracked, shards slipping through my fingers.
I had nothing left to defend with, and if the dull star at Bryce's chest told me anything, it seemed we were out of luck.
That male voice spoke again, demanded something in that foreign tongue and when I still knelt on the ground, palms exposed, begging any who listened for even a flicker of magic to ignite in me, he growled.
Bryce gasped as his large hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I saw her fighting to rise as he hauled me up and twisted me to face him. "Don't fucking touch her."
But I didn't react. Not as I was met with something, unlike any demon I knew existed.
A male- the most beautiful male I had ever seen before. Golden skin, carved bone structure, raven hair. And those eyes were hazel, a sunburst of honey and whiskey, even if they seemed to gleam with violence.
The sight of him surprised me enough that I stumbled back a step and like the warrior he seemed to be, he reacted, his hand falling to my curved waist and gripping me. Something sparked, like a match being lit, at the touch.
And for a second, I think he felt it too, it seemed like those hazel eyes cleared and his tall, muscular form shivered at that spark. Just for a second and then it was gone.
He released my waist, instead wrapping his hand around my wrist, a glint of a blade shining in my peripheral. He spoke again, a quiet voice that seemed to hold no mercy. But I was dumbfounded as I stared at him.
The scale-like obsidian armour, crafted over acres of lean, corded muscle, and so tall I craned my neck to meet his eyes. And those wings, nothing like Hunt's, no, these were vast, black, leathery, tipped with talons that peered over his broad shoulders.
Hunt.
Ruhn.
Something squeezed in my chest and that beautiful face twisted, brows knitting and soft lips tilting down as tears filled my eyes.
"Take us to Aidas," I begged, and I couldn't stop how my body was shaking now. I glanced back at Bryce, braced on her palms and mascara running down her face- as if she too remembered all we had left behind. "Take us to Aidas, Prince Aidas!"
I couldn't stop the tears as they fell and when I jolted forward, curling my hands into the solid, intricate armour he wore, his eyes flashed in warning. But he didn't pull away. I leaned against him, knees near giving out and he seemed to recognise how desperate I was.
He spoke again, softer this time, that rough hand still holding my wrist.
"What the fuck is he saying?" Bryce choked, and I could hear rustling as if she was fighting with everything, she had in her to get up. I could practically hear her screaming in her mind get the fuck up.
"I don't understand, please, just take us to Prince Aidas. We came to Hel; we came for his help-"
"Hel?" He echoed the word sounding jumbled on his lips. I nodded frantically, my nails breaking against his armour, half my body flush against him now and he held my weight up with ease.
"Yes, yes, Hel!" I looked around, gesturing at the misty surroundings, the sky-scrapping trees, the darkening night sky, "What level? What Pit? What Chasm?" But my words seemed to just confuse him even more, dark brows furrowing.
My eyes screwed shut with frustration and I opened my mouth again, to repeat those same words, hoping this time something would click- and then I felt it, felt them.
"Fuck," I gasped, launching back, my fingers untangling from the male before me as I scrambled away. His hand- brutally scarred, I realised- squeezed, but when he saw the fear and panic sullying my eyes, he reluctantly let go.
And I inched back and back and back until I felt Bryce beside me- and she was shaking just as much as I was. Because stood behind that male, were three more... demons? No, no, Fae, two of them were Fae.
We were surrounded now, outnumbered.
"Shit, shit," Bryce hissed and when my eyes met hers, half-risen, legs knocking together as she tried to stand, I saw it on her face- we were fucked, royally fucked. "We can't fucking take them all."
I sucked in a shallow breath and with it, I steeled my spine and forced the alarm to clear from my face. The first male's eyes scrutinised me, observed as I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, refusing to cower- and I swear his lip tilted at the corner.
"Prince Aidas, we're looking for Prince Aidas," I looked past him, to the two Fae females, beautiful Fae females and another handsome male with wings standing beside them. "Is this Hel?"
One of the females stepped forward, petite in every sense of the word, her dark, cropped hair so at odds with the gleaming silver in her angular eyes- eyes that seemed to look over me, over Bryce, and narrow.
I didn't blame them. We were covered in blood, seeping through our clothes, sticking to our skin, coating our hands and neck, and speckled against our faces. Blood that was not ours.
The other male spoke, just as tall, if not taller than the first with those same hazel eyes and those dark, foreboding wings. He shook his head, long raven hair shifting from his bun, and I watched as the female beside him, pretty and fawn-haired, pursed her lips.
Bryce bared her teeth, red hair swinging in her ponytail as she stepped forward and I fought against my instinct to help, to grab onto her to stop her tumbling over. But we were the prey here, they were the predators and we had to do everything in our power to not become food.
"Is this world Hel?" Bryce asked and something shifted in the air at the sound of the Old Fae Language on her tongue, that petite female flinching at the words. "We need to see Prince Aidas."
The others gaped at the smaller female as if her shock was the most alarming thing about this situation. But I sagged in relief- finally, someone who fucking understood us. But that seemed secondary to her, as that female glanced from the Starsword on the floor at her feet to the first male's dagger at his side.
He slid it free, and it was as if someone had ripped the ground out from under our feet.
"Oh my fucking Gods," It was a twin to the Starsword, a mirror with its dark hilt and engraved blade. And Bryce's hand found mine, tugged me back with her as the Starsword began to glow, vibrating with white magic.
And almost as if in answer the dagger pulsed black.
It fell from the male's hand, alarm breaking through the pure ice hardening his eyes and I would have laughed under different circumstances- laughed at seeing these fully grown, powerful creatures flinching from these weapons.
Except I was fucking terrified too.
"Gwydion," The dark-haired female gasped, red-painted lips parting in shock as she stared down at the Starsword- known by a different name here, a name I had never heard before.
"Please, is this Hel?" I stumbled slightly over the language, unused to the mother tongue of the Old Fae, but still, I locked my intreating gaze onto that female and demanded again, "Is this Hel? We need to find Prince Aidas."
She pursed her lips and Bryce's nails dug into the skin of my palm, her body stiffening under that stare. She looked over us- the mess of make-up smeared across our faces, the clothes and shoes caked in blood, and the bruises and cuts looming over our skin.
So at odds with them, with their outdated attire. For some reason, I thought back to the old fantasy movies Danika used to drag me and Bryce to, just so she could laugh and throw popcorn kernels at the screen.
My heart burned in memory of her.
I saw a blare of blue, bright enough that it had me blinking through the tears that lined my eyes in memory of my friend. As the haze cleared, I locked onto that beautiful male and saw something solemn in his face- like he had felt my grief at that moment.
I didn't have the time to contemplate how.
"No one has spoken that language here in over fifteen thousand years," She spoke, tone clipped and chin high, "I do not know any Aidas here."
"Apollion then," I swallowed, and I felt Bryce sway beside me, hands rubbing at her face, muttering incoherently under her breath. "You must know the Prince of the Pit."
"I do not know of such people," She shook her head, her eyes weary and something in my chest caved, "This is not Hel."
This is not Hel.
Not Hel.
Where the fuck where we?
"Oh Gods," Bryce gasped and this time when she swayed again, I did hold onto her, wrapping her arm over my shoulder and baring her weight. I didn't let the calm mask I donned slip, didn't let them see me as anything other than strong. I couldn't afford to.
"Then where are we?" I asked, voice shaking as I looked between the two females, then the other swaggering male and then finally to the first. And my eyes now noticed the blue jewels embedded into his armour, blazing like sirens.
I locked my gaze on him and for some reason, whatever reason, I felt like he of all of them might take pity on us, have mercy on us. And I let him see that in me, that hope, strong enough that something unreadable whirled through his eyes.
"What world is this?" I breathed, just looking at him and I saw his throat work, that powerful body going unnaturally still. His lips parted as if to speak, but then something happened. I felt it again, that shift in time and space and air.
And then there were two more of them, two more Fae as if they had just appeared- from thin fucking air.
"How fucking many of them are there?" Bryce scoffed, and something like a chuckle rose in me, at how ridiculous this was, how unbelievable. Did the Gods truly hate us so fucking much?
I eyed the female first and watched her wade through the others to the front- lovely, fawn-haired, and her eyes a cloudy blue. They widened slightly at the sight of us, but they held little threat, only weariness.
And then two black, ominous wings erected high behind her, and the breath ripped from my lungs as a third male stepped out- midnight hair, and violet eyes, breathtakingly lovely.
"Ruhn?" My voice broke, and it was Bryce who had to hold me up now, had to keep me from falling to my knees at the sight of that male, so much like the Prince I had left behind on Midgard.
He blinked at me, likely as confused as I was.
And then he turned to the first male, the one with the scarred hands, and they spoke between them. Something almost akin to worry flickering through those hazel eyes as he watched me, the tears now leaking down my face, the haunted expression I wore.
"He-he looks like Ruhn," Bryce gasped, voice barely above a mutter and I heard the emotion clogging her words- for her brother, in the hands of the Asteri, so similar to this male that it physically made us hurt. "Why does he look Ruhn?"
"I don't know, I don't know-" Once the tears started it became hard to stop and Bryce, was beginning to sag in my arms, she was starting to drift in and out of consciousness now and I couldn't hold her for much longer I knew that.
"Please," I looked to the dark-haired female again, and I would be the prey, I would be food, I would chattel if it meant getting them to help us. "My sister is weak, she needs help and-and our world, our home... Midgard, it's in grave danger-"
Hunt, Bryce's mate. My friend.
Ruhn, Bryce's brother. My family and yet so much more.
"Don't- don't tell them anything, Alex," Bryce rasped into my ear, and I was starting to buckle now, teeth gritting as her body got heavier and heavier. "Don't tell-"
"Bryce!" She crumpled to the floor, and I fell with her, knees giving out, slamming into the grass hard enough that I felt the pain through every inch of my body. The Fae before us seemed to startle, but only the first male stepped forward, grass crunching under his boots.
Scarred hands reaching out as if to catch us. Catch me.
"I don't have any magic left, it's-it's depleted, more than depleted," Bryce rested her sweating forehead against my shoulder, and I bit my lip hard enough to taste metal as her eyes fluttered.
"Mine too," I whispered back, and the muttering amongst the others told me they were confused, that us speaking in our native tongue did not sit well with them. They didn't like not knowing what we were saying. "It's going to take a long time for it to come back, we need them to not kill us before then."
"C'mon Alex," Bryce lifted her eyes to mine, dry amusement in them, "Flutter those lashes and throw them a pretty smile, works with the males back home."
Their muttering got louder, and more voices joined in.
"These definitely aren't the males from home," I scoff- only Bryce could make a snarky quip at a time like this. "We don't have this kind of eye candy back home."
"Speak for yourself," Bryce's lip tilted. "Hunt Athalar happens to be my mate."
Her mate. I felt her chest seize in memory of him.
And it's that, that awful hurt in her eyes that makes me exhale with resolve. I draw on every ounce of exhaustion and pain and suffering we had endured these last few days, these last years- and I look back to those Fae with unveiled desperation.
"Please," I say again, and when I picture Ruhn and Hunt, when I picture our parents and our friends, my tears become real, "You have to help us."
The dark-haired female seemed to translate my words to the others, and something almost softened across their faces- kind, these people, they seemed kind. The fawn-haired female, who I noticed had a tapestry of dark whirls tattooed up her right arm, smiled sadly at me and spoke.
"She wants to know your name," the petite one relayed.
I could taste the salt of my tears in my mouth and my throat worked as I searched across all those lovely faces. I stopped at the first male, something tugging at me, an incessant throb that only settled when my eyes found him again.
There was a tense silence as we stared at each other, my arms wrapped around Bryce, holding her weak body to mine, no longer able to open her eyes much less speak. The male saw that, saw that we weren't a threat, at least not right now, and he dipped his head in the barest nod.
As if to say- we won't harm you.
"I'm Alexis Quinlan," I met those violet eyes and tried not to shudder at the thought of Ruhn. I cleared my throat, looking down at Bryce in my embrace, her chest rising and falling- just barely. "This is my sister, Bryce Quinlan."
"Hello, Alexis Quinlan," He stepped forward, a small smile tilting at his gorgeous face and the sound of the Old Language on his tongue was as glorious as night and space itself. "I'm Rhysand."
One moment, Rhysand was smiling and then the next something wholly dark and terrifying eclipsed us.
And then there was nothing but oblivion.
***
Alexis Quinlan- that's what Rhysand said she introduced herself as.
Even the sound of her name made something in my chest spark, a call in answer to her.
I felt as if I knew her somehow, felt as if we had met before- it was that feeling that stopped me from sliding Truth-teller into the junction of her throat when I found her earlier. It was the shiver that ran down me when I grabbed her waist that made me stop.
Made it impossible for me to harm her despite every instinct in me screaming that she was a stranger, a threat against this Court, against my family, against everything I held dear.
Even if another instinct in me whispered that she was anything but.
"Azriel," Rhysand's voice broke through the wall of confusion and intrigue that had erected the moment I laid eyes on her, and it took all my power to slide my gaze to his and look unfazed. "What are you thinking?"
I glanced at where the two females lay, nestled together on the small cot, faces calm as they slumbered. My lips pursed at the first female, Alexis, and the blood that caked her- matted in her long, chocolate hair, crusting against her tawny skin, staining the tight, unusual clothes she wore.
Not a threat and yet she was covered in blood that was not hers.
"They said they came from another world- Midgard- how?" I forced away the incessant thoughts of her, jaw locking as my shadows danced across my form- whispering, whispering, whispering, just about her. "They possess Gwydion but seemed surprised by Truth-Teller."
My hands clenched at my sides; the dagger sheathed at my hip no longer pulsing with that dark, unnatural energy in answer to Gwydion. It was alarming, seeing the blade I had cherished and wielded for so many years suddenly become unfamiliar to me, become other.
"She said their world was in grave danger, that they needed help," Amren mused, her slender arms folding over her chest as she stood beside me and Rhysand, her eyes assessing those females with lethal scrutiny. "Who's to say whatever they fear hasn't followed them straight to us, if the danger even exists."
I thought back to first discovering them- weak, no power left in them, if they had any at all and she had cried- amber eyes welling with tears as she held onto me. I felt it as sure as if it were my own, her grief, her desperation.
It had felt real.
"They did not seem disingenuous," Rhysand's violet eyes moved between Amren and me, the cavernous walls so at odds with the stars in his eyes but seemed to match perfectly with his deep-set frown. "And if they were going to attack, would they not have taken their chances against Azriel, before reinforcements arrived?"
"Whatever they endured has left them defenceless, they couldn't have taken Azriel even if they wanted to," Amren examined her sharp, glistening nails, her tone almost bored, "Wake them Rhysand, all these assumptions are pointless. We need them to tell us the truth."
It seemed unlikely they would tell us anything, not willingly, not if the way Alexis had steeled her spine and raised her chin as my court surrounded her was any indication. And her sister, Bryce, had bared her teeth, enough ire in her eyes to translate the curses that fell from her lips.
These were not weak females, not feeble by any account. My power seemed to rally at that reminder, that they were the enemy until proven otherwise. And as Rhysand let a wave of his magic brush over them, pulling them free from their unconscious- I let my mask slip back into place.
Shadowsinger. Spymaster. Darkness incarnate.
The females stirred, dark lashes fluttering and the three of us braced ourselves as they both sucked in sharp, lungfuls of air and shot up. Bryce, red hair swinging violently, and teeth bared, reached back- for Gwydion- and her painted nails met nothing but air.
But the other female, Alexis, sprung out of the cot and to her feet- but she didn't reach for a weapon. No, my brows rose as her hands curled, palms exposing and- nothing. Nothing came from it.
"She reached for her magic, but there isn't anything left," Rhysand muttered, interest lacing his tone and I nodded gravely in agreement, watching her breath stutter from her in realisation. "They have power, enough that it's her first instinct to call for it."
"And they're trained," I said lowly, watching their eyes flicker over themselves, over each other, and the cavernous walls that surrounded them. "The sister went for Gwydion first, and now they're assessing the space- these are no novices."
Their eyes slid to us as if knowing we spoke about them. And rightfully so fear crept up their faces as they took in the scene, the three of us, the cell they were trapped in and not a weapon or a speck of magic left in them.
The grate behind us hissed and Alexis groaned, muttering something in her language, amusing enough that the female behind her cracked a dry smile. They shifted to stand before the cot, their eyes unflinching upon us.
Rhysand stepped forward and I didn't miss how Alexis stiffened and shifted in front of Bryce- her protector perhaps? Or maybe whatever they were, she thought her sister's life more valuable than her own.
Rhysand spoke in that Old Fae language, translating mind to mind. His hand extended, wreathed in stars and moonlight, two small beans lying in his palm. "Here, swallow this and it will translate our mother tongue to you, allow you to speak it too."
Bryce scoffed, looking at the bean as if it were a vial of poison. My head cocked when Alexis folded her arms across her chest, her dark brow raising at Rhys and she spoke, something sardonic crossing her lovely face.
Rhys laughed- and I glanced at him in surprise. Even Amren's lip quirked at the corner.
"She said," Rhysand's eyes met mine and danced with enough amusement that my shadows hushed, "That she doesn't swallow- no matter how nicely a pretty male may ask."
I chuckled quietly at that, and something akin to approval hummed in my chest as my gaze shifted to hers. And it blared brighter when she tilted her chin in challenge, every inch of her soft body turning still at my attention.
"If we were going to kill you, we wouldn't need to use poison," Amren drawled, Rhysand translating again. The females met each other's eyes and Bryce said something, something that made Alexis flash her a smile- a devastating smile.
Bryce's hand trembled barely as she plucked the beans from Rhysand's palm, careful not to touch him and there was silence as they slipped it between their parted lips, grimacing as they swallowed it dry.
They gasped- in pain I realised, and it became increasingly difficult to stay rooted in place as they bucked, as she writhed, body convulsing, eyes screwed shut. I gritted my teeth as Bryce slumped back onto the bed, reeling, Alexis now bracing her palms against the cave walls to keep herself steady.
"If you were trying to hurt us a fucking knife would have done the job just as well," Alexis scowled, panting as she held the wall. My shadows skittered at the sound of her voice- soft and melodic to my ears.
"Poison might have been better than... whatever the fuck that was," Bryce said, husky voice half-muffled by the hand at her mouth as if she was forcing down bile - an answer to the pain that had thrashed her insides apart moments before.
"My apologies," Rhysand smiled, sounding anything but apologetic and their eyes narrowed as if they knew that. "But the language barrier was growing tedious, wouldn't you say?"
Bryce mumbled something incoherent, and we watched as she rose to her feet again, both their faces tight with discomfort as they steadied themselves, standing side by side as they had before and faced us.
They wanted answers as much as we did it seemed.
"You said your names were Alexis and Bryce Quinlan," Amren took a step forward, and her gaze slid over them, unimpressed. But to their credit they didn't baulk, if anything Alexis mirrored that look, taking in Amren's clothes with veiled humour. "You say you came from another world- if you are to be believed, how did you come here? Why?"
"Where is here?" Bryce swallowed, gaze flickering over the space again, "What world is this?"
"Why do you speak the Old Language?" Amren argued, eyes narrowing.
"Why do you?" Bryce countered, jerking her chin and Alexis rolled her pretty eyes, already tired of the back and forth- it nearly made me smile.
"Why are you covered in blood that is not your own?" Amren's red lips tilted into a cruel smile and- silence. They didn't speak for several moments.
And then something else overtook them. Panic overtook them. They looked down at the blood, covering them and whatever had happened, whatever they endured at home, those memories came back with a vengeance.
Bryce began to hyperventilate, her breath sawing in and out and she looked around the room, eyes wide, as if the walls were beginning to close in.
"Bryce," Alexis grabbed her sister's hand, silver-lined her eyes as she looked at her, "Bryce, don't think about it, don't think about them, please Bryce-"
"We won't harm you," Rhysand frowned, and they seemed to realise the comfort in the words, and the warning too. My throat worked, my head spinning with so many thoughts as she grabbed her sister's hand, anchoring her, and met our eyes again.
"What world is this?" Alexis demanded, and I could see it, as she looked at us one by one, the power she might wield, the magic lying dormant in her veins. She looked to Amren, unafraid. "You said no one has spoken the Old Language here in fifteen thousand years. Why?"
"How did you come to be in possession of the lost sword Gwydion?" Amren countered and this time Alexis bared her teeth, sharp canines exposing with a soft snarl. That sound glided down my spine and over my wings.
"I thought we agreed that we didn't want to have tedious conversations?" She said, and Amren's smile broadened- as if recognising a worthy opponent. "Or should we keep asking each other questions while giving no fucking answers?"
"You mean the Starsword?" Bryce rasped, giving a hint of an answer- but none of us spoke. Her eyes rolled, a mirror to the face her sister had made minutes ago, and she sighed. "It's a family heirloom, It's been in our world since our ancestors brought it over...fifteen thousand years ago."
Alexis met Amren's eyes, and something whirled in them, something sarcastic- as if to say see, that's called answering the fucking question.
My shadows crooned at that look.
"How did you find this world?" Rhysand asked, and rightfully so, they both seemed uneasy in his presence, seemed to recognise that he was in charge.
"We didn't," Alexis sighed, "Like we said: we wanted to go to Hel. We landed here instead."
"How?" Rhysand's voice sharpened and they both grimaced at the sound that came hissing from the grate, as if sensing their High Lord's anger and pleading for a taste.
"How much do you wanna bet they're gonna feed us to whatever the fucks hissing in there?" Bryce mused, wincing at the sound and Alexis nodded, looking at the grate with dread.
"We're not exactly the most palatable females, Bryce," Alexis tucked her long, dark hair behind an arched ear and chuckled wryly, talking as if we weren't even here, "Maybe it'll taste the sarcasm in our blood and be uninterested?"
She quirked a brow, teasing her sister- at a time like this they were teasing each other.
"I can assure you that that they don't discriminate," I flashed my teeth in a wicked smile, and Alexis's eyes locked with mine at the sound of my quiet tone, hands clenching at the cruel amusement in my eyes. "They like the taste of a pretty female, sarcastic or not."
She sucked in a shallow breath at that, her shapely chest rising and falling in waves as she stared at me. There was silence, and I knew the others were looking at us, between us, sensing the battle of wills that raged.
"Look, I just watched my mate and my brother get captured by a group of intergalactic parasites," Bryce snarled, and I straightened at the anger in her voice. "We have no interest in doing anything except finding a way to help them."
Her brother. Not our brother.
I narrowed my eyes and looked between them then- they didn't look remotely alike that much was obvious, nor did they smell alike, their blood completely different. Sisters, but not by blood, sisters in the same way that Rhysand and Cassian were my brothers.
"Explain." That's all Amren said. And they looked at each other, seemed to read the words on each other's faces and then turned back to us and said nothing. Amren sighed, "Just look into their minds already, Rhys."
"Don't even think about it," Alexis hissed, angling herself before her sister again and she glared at Rhysand with true terror in her eyes. A mirror to how Bryce looked at him.
"I do not pry where I am not willingly invited," Rhysand said quietly, his face not yielding even an inch of how he felt. Bryce's eyes narrowed, and Alexis showed another sarcastic smile.
"Gods be good, there are some decent males left in this galaxy," She drawled, utterly unimpressed, "However may we thank you for not invading our minds and rifling through them. Should we bow in the face of such virtue, Bryce?"
"It's definitely something to revere," Bryce looked at her sister, and chuckled, "A male with a code of mind-speaking ethics."
Rhysand paused, entertained if the constellations in his eyes told me anything. And even I fought back my astonishment, my smile, surprised by these females.
"Then we'll have to rely on your words," Rhysand grinned, snapped his fingers, and then settled onto one of the three chairs that appeared behind us, crossing an ankle over a knee.
"I was wrong before Bryce, these males are just like the ones back home," Alexis muttered, rolling her eyes at Rhysand's dramatics, before dropping onto the cot behind her with a sigh. "Beauty and arrogance, nothing new here."
Bryce fought a smile, sitting beside her sister, so close their thighs brushed, as if needing the other for comfort, for support.
"Amren," Rhysand smiled lazily at the frowning female, gesturing to the chair and then to me, "Azriel." I dropped onto the chair, tucking my wings behind me, and bracing my arms on my knees.
Her eyes were on me. As if hearing my name had the same effect as when I had heard hers.
"You say your sword has been in your world for fifteen thousand years?" Rhysand asked, and if I knew Rhys then he was more than pleased that she thought him beautiful, liked that she considered him arrogant.
My stomach lurched at the thought for some reason, her thinking him beautiful. I shoved it down, deep within me, not daring to think of it again. Think of why I even cared.
"Brought by our ancestors- Queen Theia or Prince Pelias, depending on what propaganda you hear." Bryce said a shade hesitantly, but upon seeing Amren stiffen, seeing her react, her brow rose, "You know of them?"
"No one has spoken those names here in a very, very long time," Amren swallowed, and Rhysand had gone still- if Amren was worried, then we all should be. "They once dwelled here."
"So, this is it, this is where we- the Midgard Fae- came from," Alexis was breathless, like the piece of the puzzle they had been missing slid into place. "Our ancestors left this world and went to Midgard, but we forgot where we came from."
Rhysand looked at me and I shook my head, lips pursing, never before heard of such stories involving our people migrating through worlds. But then he looked to Amren- and Cauldron, she looked shaken.
"It's murky, I went in before-" Amren glanced to the girls and didn't continue that sentence, "But when I came out there were rumours- many people vanishing, some said to another world, others said they'd moved to distant lands, rumours that they had been chosen by the Cauldron and spirited away."
Something cold lit through me at her words, getting colder still when Amren lifted her eyes and sharpened them upon the females. "What I want to know is why you came here when you meant to go elsewhere?"
"Join the line, Amren," Alexis said, biting down on her name sharply. She wasn't afraid, stupid, or brave, I couldn't tell but my shadows seemed to enjoy it all the same. "We want to know the same thing- we have no desire to be here."
"You wish to go to Hel," Rhysand said, not a shift in his tone, "To find this Prince Aidas."
At his question, they again glanced at each other and knew just from each other's faces, their eyes, what to do. It was intrinsic, just as I was with my brothers, on killing fields, in council meetings, in situations of peril, I could see exactly what my brothers thought just from something as simple as a blink.
"Allow me to lay out the situation for you, Bryce and Alexis Quinlan," Rhysand leaned forward, and they both met his stare- warriors, fighters, survivors, that's what I saw in them. "We will not torture you or pry into your mind. If you choose to talk or not, is indeed your choice."
"Let me guess," Alexis cocked her head, silken hair sliding over her shoulder as she met those star-flecked eyes, "Just like it's your choice to leave us down here to rot. Until these four walls drive us fucking crazy and we have no choice but to tell you whatever you want."
"That's torture, isn't it, Alex?" Bryce mused sarcastically, her brows furrowing in faux perplexion.
"Yes, it is, Bryce," Alexis drawled, locking her ankles and meeting Rhysand's gaze again, "Chivalrous torture though- because you know, they have a code to follow after all."
Cauldron, under different circumstances these females, I think I would rather like them. Rhys seems to share my sentiment, a rumble of laughter dancing through my mind. Rhys smiled- and snapped his fingers. In an instant, they were clean- of blood, of gore, of whatever else they had been coated in.
Beautiful. That's the word that sprang to me first at the sight of her, just beautiful.
"To incentivise you," Rhys gave a half smile, more menacing than anything else. Another shared glance between the girls and then a defeated sigh.
"The Asteri are ancient, tens of thousands of years old and they arrived in our world fifteen thousand years ago," Bryce said, and something sullen flashed through her eyes, as if in memory.
"What do you mean by arrived?" Rhysand pushed.
"Honestly, we have no idea how they first got to Midgard." Bryce shrugged and Rhysand's face softened at the agony in her eyes, her scent turning cold, as if she could still feel them, whatever they were.
"The history has spun them as liberators, they found Midgard little more than a backwater planet inhabited by humans and animals and they created a perfect empire- a place where creatures and races from other worlds came to through a giant hole called the Northern Rift." Alexis continued, frowning, "It now only opens to Hel, but it used to open to everywhere, anywhere."
"What happened when these creatures arrived from other worlds?" Rhysand asked, his voice tight now.
"The official history is that Hel tried to invade Midgard but the Asteri in all their glory unified these people under one banner and banished the Princes back to Hel. The Northern Rift was fixed, with its destination set on Hel. A massive wall was built to keep out any demons that come through the cracks and the Asteri's indomitable empire lives happily ever after."
"And the unofficial history?" Rhysand asked, a shade more quietly.
Alexis looked at her sister, saw the question in those eyes- and then nodded, solemnly. Bryce turned back to us, bracing herself with a shaky inhale and exhale.
"The Asteri are ancient, immortal beings who harvest off the magic of a world, of its people and then eat it. We call it firstlight, it fuels our world. We're required to hand it over when we reach immortality, we seize our full power through a ritual called the drop and they siphon off pieces of it- like a tax on our magic."
"A tithe," Amren gasps- I've never heard Amren gasp before, even Rhysand looks alarmed by the soft sound. They furrow their brow but when Amren doesn't continue, Alexis swallows, continuing the tale.
"Midgard is one of many in a long line of worlds invaded by the Asteri. They have an entire archive full of planets they've conquered or tried to conquer- we saw it before we came here." Alexis clenched her eyes shut, haunted by the memory, "There were only three planets that managed to kick their asses to the curb- Hel, a planet called Iphraxia, and a world occupied by Fae, the original Starborn Fae."
"My sword- you know it by a different name," Bryce looked to Amren, who nodded slowly, "I think it came from this world- was forged here. It was a part of your history and then vanished, right? Hasn't been seen in fifteen thousand years? It lines up with the timeline of the Starborn Fae arriving in Midgard."
Worry- it bloomed over us, all of us like a phantom touch. And something uneasy furled in my gut, the way these females had appeared, the light and dark call and answer between Gwydion and Truth-teller- it was not right.
"We learned that long before the Asteri found Midgard, they were here- but you kicked them out, you defeated them," Alexis's face turned pleading then, desperate, "How? How did you defeat them?"
"Our history doesn't include any such event like that," Rhysand said- but the look he gave Amren, spoke of something more.
"The Asteri remember you- and they're pissed off," Alexis scoffed, and my shadows lurched at her words, at the threat these Asteri posed. "Rigelus, their leader, basically said it's his personal mission to find this place and fucking destroy it. You're number one on his list."
Alexis trembled as she said his name- Rigelus, and her scent darkened in fear, in repulsion. And something awful rose in me at the smell, at whatever he had done to make her shake that way- something dark and terrible and deadly.
"It is our history, Rhysand," Amren said gravely, and we both went still, "But the Asteri were not known by that name- we called them the Daglan." I jolted, wings rustling, and Rhysand's face turned ashen, golden skin leeching of colour.
Cauldron fucking spare us, the Asteri are the Daglan.
"How did you defeat them?" Alexis tried again, hope beaming in her eyes now, "Do you have any record about how they fell?"
"Nothing beyond old songs of bloody battles and tremendous losses," Amren frowned, and that hope, fuck, it dimmed and dimmed and then completely vanished from her eyes.
"You think that these Asteri want to come back here for revenge?" Rhys asked, shaking his head like he didn't quite believe it. "After fifteen thousand years?"
"These are petty, arrogant bastards, fifteen thousand years is like five minutes when it comes to Rigelus when it comes to his revenge," Alexis said, her face twisting with ice, "He has infinite time and resources to-"
"What resources?" Rhysand cut in, and now, there was not an inch of amusement to be seen on his face. No, his High Lord's instinct had taken over.
"I don't even know where to start explaining it," Alexis shook her head, looked at her sister, frowned and then turned back to us, reaching out a small, shaking hand to Rhys. "I'll show you."
That darkness twisted in my gut again, at the thought of his hand touching hers. I thrust it down with the other ludicrous emotions and thoughts that plagued me.
"One moment," Rhys frowned, knowing better than to fall so easily into a trap. He vanished, and an emotion akin to relief filled me, as she lowered her hand back to her lap with a dazed blink.
"You can teleport here?" Bryce asked, but not really asking.
"We call it winnowing," Amren said, and my lip tilted at their reactions. "Can you two, do it?"
Another short glance- and two heads shaking no. My smirk widened.
"No," Alexis squared her shoulders, meeting my eyes and raising a brow at me, "There are only two Fae who can."
"On your entire planet?" Amren started, "Only two?"
Liar- I let her see that word in my eyes, even as she bared her teeth slightly at me, before turning away, dismissing me.
"Let me guess," Bryce smiled barely, "You have more?"
"Only the most powerful, but yes. Many can here." Amren's words cut off as Rhysand appeared between us again and I lifted a brow at what he held between his hands. "The Veritas Orb?"
"Hold it, think of what you want to show us, and the memories shall be captured within for us to view." Rhysand nodded to the orb at his feet. The girls frowned, muttered something, a word I didn't understand- camera- I think and then nodded in resolve.
Alexis rose on stiff legs, tugging at her clothes almost subconsciously, and no one spoke as she waded forward on silent feet. She paused before it, glanced at Rhysand, then Amren and then me- I tried not to appear like I wanted to kill her.
She bent down, short fingers curling around the orb and my throat worked at the slip of flesh that was revealed as she leaned forward, my eyes averting away from the display of golden skin and full breasts.
She rose, top mercifully slipping back into place and my eyes met hers- they danced with humour, knowing what I had seen, knowing that I had chosen to look away. My shadows flanked me excitedly, even as my face remained a sheet of darkness.
"Here goes nothing," She muttered, stepping back and then she closed her eyes and held that ball. It was a few seconds, if not more, before she fluttered her dark lashes, and then rolled the ball back to Rhysand.
He picked it up, touched the top and everything, all the horrors within began to play out.
Dread, pure fucking dread lined us all.
"Guns," Bryce said pointing to a human man holding some sort of weapon in his hands, hitting a target from miles away. "Brimstone missiles." A furious explosion, a flash of blinding white light and then... everything was in ruin, rubble. "Omega-boats." Some sort of underwater ship, with more of those weapons within.
"Asteri." Alexis breathed and when the male came onto the screen, dark-haired and gangly, she looked away, couldn't face him even in her own memories. And as a white-hot power blasted from him, shattering stone and glass and everything in his way, I could see why.
"You live in such a world?" Rhysand swallowed thickly, and they just nodded. "And they wish to bring all those things here?" Another grim nod.
Her eyes were on me, observing me but I didn't meet them, pushed the feel of them away. I stared at that orb, at the horror shown within and I knew that we were fucked, that against those monstrosities, Prythian would stand little chance.
Guns, missiles, omega-boats, the Asteri- it would be a catastrophe beyond anything that the Hybern war had seen.
"Bryce-" Her voice shook suddenly, panicked and my gaze tore from that orb. To where the other female hunched and groaned- to where her back glowed- "Bryce- Bryce, stop!"
Rhysand's magic pulsed and so did mine- and before they could strike, I lunged.
"Stay the fuck away from her!" Alexis snarled as I stood before them, Truth-teller in my hand, poised to attack. I inched closer- but then that darkness began to leak from the blade again, and I stopped at the sight.
"Put it away," Amren hissed, "It sings for her, and by bringing it close-" It was gone whisked away by my shadows within a blink.
Alexis glowered at me but then she turned and met her sister's pale face and concern softened her expression. But that light still pulsed- bright, shimmering, iridescent- and the panic in both their eyes, told us everything they had tried to hide.
"The glowing letters inked on her back," Amren muttered, Rhys stood by my side now, watching those closely, "They're the same as those in the Book of Breathings."
They seemed to notice the shift in the air, the power rumbling through the stone and the way they stared back, the way she stared back, told me that they wouldn't go down easy.
"Explain or die." 
____________________________
A/N:
HERE WE HAVE IT, CHAPTER ONE OF MY AZRIEL FANFIC!
This is a little sneak peek into what's to come but if you want to read the rest of this fanfic I am uploading it on Wattpad and AO3 (linked) My Wattpad handle is @itzwhatever and my ao3 handle is @b00kdiary
So excited to continue this story, I've been thinking about it for MONTHS.
@hellodarling1357 @charlineraven @starrystarkey93 @mockingjaytributes @nelapeach14 @alessiazeni @bishhh2003 @impossibelle @firebreathingbishqueen @lovely-susie @sarawritestories @hellowinterlane @minnieoo @charlineraven @acotarfics-mharmie009
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Text
Don’t Leave Me Hangin’
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MANDO x FEM READER
Summary: Reader gets stuck aloft in one of the Kom’rik’s cargo nets and has to call out to Mando for help. Filthy Mando smut ensues.
Warnings: explicit language, swearing, explicit sexual content, porn without plot, well, maybe a tiny little hint of plot, oral- f receiving, PiV, squirting, cum play(?), it’s messy- nuff said, Kom’rik sex, improper use of a cargo net, reader is an idiot who should think things through, Mando is an opportunist, no use of Y/N, maybe? bondage - Mando doesn’t help her out of the net like- immediately, but reader ain’t complainin’
(N/A: The brain fog has FINALLY lifted, and I wanted to write about my most recent random filthy thot. This is the result. It’s a long-ish, smutty one shot. Reader & Mando are in a situationship - friends-with-benefits type deal. I’m picturing like a live-in nanny/housekeeper kind of thing, but I don’t think I ever specified. This is post-season 3, and Mando’s living his best life on Nevarro. He and reader are in a Kom’rik, because I need room for my smut to flourish, and I didn’t want to resurrect the poor old Razor Crest from the ashes. If I missed any tags, let me know. And I hope you enjoy.)
Word Count: 4280
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You really should have thought this through better.
That was your first thought after the cargo net stopped swinging, and you regained a modicum of composure. You winced at the sound of the net’s straps creaking under the strain as you tried to shift your weight and then froze. You remained completely motionless, afraid to even breathe, for several more moments.
“Shit...” you whispered in a quaking voice, peering down at the floor of the cargo hold several meters below you. You then glanced up at the winch mechanism above your head, praying it held. How in the hell were you going to get yourself out of this?
It had seemed like such a good plan at the time. You had just stepped out of the Kom’rik’s small ‘fresher, having showered and changed into your sleep shirt before bed, when you’d felt the ship drop out of hyperspace with a small lurch. You heard something clatter in the cargo hold below and blew out a tired sigh, knowing it was probably nothing but also knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest until you checked it out.
Grumbling under your breath, you had climbed down into the hold. Only the emergency lights were on, the ceiling and corners hidden in shadow, but you spotted something lying near a tier of shelves attached to the hull’s interior wall. It was one of the kid’s favorite cookies, the teal ones with the creme filling. Peering up into the gloom, you spied an opened foil sleeve of cookies perched on the edge of the highest shelf.
“How the hell did he even get up there?” you said aloud, shaking your head. Jedi training aside, the kid was far too much like his dad, a little risk-taker. You heaved a sigh, with no small amount of exasperation. 
Stars only knew what else he had left up there. Come to think of it, you had given him your datapad earlier to watch cartoons and hadn’t seen it since. Sighing in frustration, you began looking for a way to reach the top shelf. The propulsor lift was still charging, so that was a no-go, and you didn’t see a ladder of any sort that wasn’t attached to the ship already.
And then you had spied the cargo net.
It was dangling by its hooks from a mechanized winch and pulley system attached to the ceiling. It was used to keep extra containers suspended above the floor to free up space, its track running the entire circuit of the area for maneuverability and convenience. Designed to hold several hundred kilograms, you were certain it could support your own weight. You could use it to lift yourself up to the shelf, retrieve whatever was up there and then lower yourself back to the ground. Easy peasy, jogan squeezy.
Detaching the control pad for the winch from the wall, you climbed inside the net, lacing an arm through the holes for a better grip, and then planted your bare feet on the cross sections of the heavy straps. It was a bit shaky at first, but once you gained your balance, you quickly ascended until you were at eye level with the top shelf. Tucking the control pad under your chin, you reached up to feel your datapad under your fingertips and sniffed in amusement. You’d have to give Grogu a good talking-to in the morning, but for now you at least had your datapad back. Slipping it and the sleeve of cookies off the shelf, you shuffled the objects around, your grip on the net slackening.
It was then that the Kom’rik made another jump into hyperspace, making the ship jolt with the transition. You shrieked when the net began to swing wildly, feet slipping out from under you as you let go of everything in your hands to hang on for dear life. Panting for breath, heart thundering in your chest, you clung like a monkey-lizard to the straps and prayed the net didn’t break.
So, there you were, hanging above the hold like a piece over-ripe fruit, arms and legs entangled in the net with no way down, because, of course, you had dropped the winch’s control pad when you dropped everything else. You could see it lying on the floor below you, right next to the broken casing of your datapad.
“Shit!” you repeated, leaning your forehead against the straps and huffing out an angry breath. Could this situation get any worse, you wondered. You’d have to yell for Mando to come get you down, which you weren’t looking forward to, but who knew how long it would take before he even came back this way? What if decided to just sleep in the cockpit? Would you end up hanging there all night?
The thought made your awkward position in the net feel even more uncomfortable. Your feet had slipped through the holes, so your legs were now dangling under you, the straps cutting into the tender meat of your thighs. One of your arms was still threaded through the net while the other one was pinned close to your side. You could feel the cold air of the hold settling into your bones and making you shiver, the thin material of the tunic doing little to stave off the chill.
You knew that the longer you hung there, the colder you were going to get, the number your limbs were going to grow. Your feet were already stinging and your teeth chattering. There was no help for it. You had to call for Mando.
“MANDO!!!”
Your voice bounced back at you, making your flinch. Holding your breath, you waited to hear his boots thudding against the metal floor overhead, but nothing. He hadn’t heard you.
“MAANN-DDOO! HEEELP!”
You waited. Still nothing.
Oh, stars, maybe he had fallen asleep in the cockpit. after all. With the door sealed, he would never hear you. Panic began to creep in, shortening your breath as it constricted your lungs.
“MANDO! PLEASE! I’M STUCK IN THE HOLD! MAN-DOO!!!”
“What the hell are you doing?”
You heard his voice coming through the ship’s comm system and could have cried in relief. You’d forgotten the cams located throughout the ship. Stars, he’d probably been watching you this whole time. You were never in danger.
“I... I’m stuck, Mando.”
A gravelly bark echoed in the hold before turning to static. Great. He was laughing at you. “Obviously. Listen, I need to recheck the coordinates in navi and set the autopilot, then I’ll come get you down. Just, uh, hang tight,” he drawled, another garbled sound slipping out of his vocoder.
You bit your tongue to keep from saying something you might regret. You were in no position to taunt or snark back at him right now. “Fine,” you mumbled, and slumped into the net.
It was only a few minutes before the sound of his heavy boots were thudding across the metal floor above you, his footsteps music to your ears. You heard the clang of his armor hitting against the ladder before he slid down into view, feet landing with a solid thump in the hold. He approached at a leisurely pace, seemingly in no hurry, then stopped to stare up at you. His helmet tilted back, black visor glinting in the low light. Planting his hands on his hips, he tipped his head, first to one side and then to the other.
“M-Mando? What’re you doing? Can you get me down now, please?”
Mando hummed, his stance shifting. His arms dropped down to his sides, hands curling into fists. “You must be getting pretty cold, huh?”
You bunched your brows up in consternation. “Um... yeah? It’s fr-freezing down here.”
He nodded slowly, keeping his visor trained on you. “Hmm. Thought so. You’re not wearing anything but my old tunic. It’s not covering much. Is it?”
You quirked a brow at the change in his voice. His smooth baritone had dropped an octave or three, and it had a distinctive husk to it now. His tone was the one he used when the two of you were alone with the lights off and he was taking you apart, dark and sinfully seductive. It made you squirm despite your precarious position, and the net began to slowly sway back and forth. The edge of a strap slid into the crease where your thigh met your hip, and you felt your lower lips part. A low groan issued from his vocoder. Your mouth fell open.
Sweet Maker, your pussy was on full display for him. You hadn’t bothered with underwear after your shower, planning on putting on a clean pair once you got back to your sleeping quarters. Heat surged through your body, both from embarrassment and unexpected arousal.
“Mando...” Your voice sounded so small and breathy in the cavernous space.
“I can see everything, pretty girl,” he told you, taking an unconscious step closer. He was almost directly under you now, peering straight up at your exposed sex. Mortified, you felt the slow trickle of your arousal easing out of your channel. You weren’t dripping, not yet, but the thought of him standing beneath you, staring at your most vulnerable parts had your breath panting out in little puffs. “You... Are you going to... get me down, now?”
You heard the back of his gauntlet scrape the metal floor as he picked up the control pad for the winch. His breath was rasping through his vocoder, the sound of leather creaking as he moved underneath you. You felt the winch catch and then begin to whir as the net began to lower back to the floor.
“Thank the stars,” you whispered, anxious to be back on solid ground again.
You didn’t quite make it, though. You were still a few meters above the floor when the winch came to a sudden stop, leaving you to sway like the pendulum of a run-down clock. “M-Mando?”
“Look so pretty like this, sweet girl,” he murmured below you, and you felt his gloved fingers trail across the back of your thigh. You gasped at the contact. “Close your eyes,” he husked out, voice gone to gravel.
You didn’t even bother to ask why, just snapped your eyes shut and held your breath, waiting. You heard the slap of leather on the floor, guessing it must be his gloves he’d just taken off, and then you felt his bare fingers tracing the straps that dug into your thighs. His fingertips grazed along the edge where the strap met the skin, the sensation making you tense as heat spiraled in your belly, diffusing through your pelvis to spread in a hot rush of slick that trickled out to cool along the petals of your open folds.
“Oh, mesh’la,” Mando cooed, dark and low. “You’re dripping for me, pretty girl.”
A whine escaped your lips, breath catching in your throat as you felt his fingers slide through your arousal, gathering your essence on his fingertips. There was the pneumatic hiss of air as his helmet disengaged and then the ring of beskar ricocheted around the hold as he dropped it to the floor. You could hear the lewd, wet noises he made as he suckled his own fingers, moaning at the taste of you.
“Don’t move, baby girl.”
“Oh, Maker...” you whimpered in a quaking whisper.
You could feel your walls clenching in anticipation. Mando had never used his mouth on you before, said he’d never gone down on anyone before, but as the winch whirred back into motion only to grind to a stop again a moment later, you guessed you were about to find out if this would be his first time.
When you felt his hair tickle the backs of your thighs, an eruptive shudder passed through your entire body. When his nose grazed over your clit, you jolted in the confines of the straps hard enough to send the net swaying, but he caught you and brought you back to center.
“Sh-shh... Easy, baby girl. I got you...” He paused, sniffed. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he hissed out in a rush, and you heard him inhale, could feel his nose right at your parted lips. It was so filthy, so obscene, what he was doing, but it made you quiver with lust, just the same.
His hands came up to grip your ankles, holding you in place. “That’s better,” he murmured, hot breath gusting over your damp folds, eliciting another shiver from you. “Let me hear you, pretty girl. Want to know how good I’m making you feel. Okay?”
You nodded your head furiously, swallowing in an attempt to bring a bit of moisture back into your parched mouth. “Y-Yeah. Okay, Mando.” You didn’t even care that it came out as a whine.
The first touch of his tongue had you choking on air, hips stuttering, not sure whether to rock forward or away from the lapping muscle, but his strong hands held you fast, not letting your squirm away. He dragged his tongue in a slow, hot line from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned like a porn star. You could feel his cheeks bunch up as he grinned at your reaction, and then he flicked his tongue over your pulsing clit again, pulling a sputtering,” Ha-aaa-aaah!” from your gaping mouth.
“You like it when I do that?” he purred lowly into your folds. “What about when I do this?” He enveloped the sensitive bud with his lips, tongue flickering over it with feather-light touches, making you writhe and grind against his mouth. He groaned, then suctioned his lips around it and sucked, pressing his tongue firmly against it. Your plaintive wail echoed throughout the ship.
“Fuck me...” he moaned, panting for breath, his voice shaking. He was completely wrecked. With a desperate snarl, he dove back in with a vengeance, tongue laving your inner folds, twirling around your entrance, lapping at your juices before kissing and sucking at your puffy, parted lips. He was devouring you whole, winding the coil in your core into a taut vibrating spring of tension. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, your breaths wheezing out of your lungs in desperate pants.
“Mando! Mando, I...” 
You couldn’t even voice a coherent thought, couldn’t tell him what was about to happen, but he seemed to understand, nevertheless. His fingers slid along your pulsing folds to catch at the rim of your entrance, circling it once before slipping inside. Your walls immediately clamped onto the digits, muscles undulating to pull them deeper. He growled at the feeling and latched onto your clit again crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion, the strokes sharp and quick as they tapped out a devastating tattoo against the spongy membrane of your G-spot.
The world went white behind your pinched eyelids, and you weren’t even aware of the choked scream that tore out of your throat as you were blindsided by your orgasm. The spring in your core gave way with a snap and warmth flooded from your center to gush out around his fingers and over his arm, splattering his lower face, cowl and chest plate.
“Ha!” he crowed. “That’s it! Fuck yes!”
You were barely hanging on, your very bones liquefied as you twitched and groaned with each consecutive pulse of your climax. If you had oozed out through the holes in the net to pool at his feet, you wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.
“So fuckin’ good, for me. Look at that. Fuck, I need — nngh!”
You heard the motor of the winch whir back into life, then felt the cold sensation of the floor touch the bottom of your feet. You couldn’t have held up your own weight if your life depended on it, however, and so folded up with the netting as it came to rest on the floor. Strong hands lifted you out the mess of straps, hands moving over you, manipulating you as he whispered feverish words in Mando’a  like some fervent benediction.
You felt your back come to rest on top of the netting, the worn fabric of his cape spread out beneath you to serve as a barrier against the rough material. You had yet to open your eyes, jaw slack as you floated somewhere high above your physical body in a state of pure bliss.
Mando placed his calloused hand over your eyes, unwilling to test fate more than he already had. He felt crazed, rabid with lust, his only desire to be buried balls-deep in your cunt.
“Need to feel you, sweet girl,” he gasped at your ear, his breath stuttering against your neck. “Please, I need — “
“Yes! Stars, please, Mando. Want to feel you inside me. Do it...”
He whimpered as he lifted himself away long enough to scrabble at the closure of his pants, shoving them down with his underwear to the top of his thigh plates, a frustrating exercise to complete one-handed. When his cock sprang free of its confines, he moaned in relief, pumping it roughly a couple of times as he spread his leaking precrum over the head with his thumb. With a grunt, he fell between your thighs, notching himself at your entrance, inhaling a deep breath before he sank into your greedy, grasping cunt with an audible squelch.
“Fuuuckin’ hellll...” he moaned out as he slid inside your fluttering walls, grunting again when he felt them collapse around his cock and seize it in a vice grip. It was a struggle to draw himself back, the sensation making his balls draw up tight against his body. “Too good... too tight... Gonna make me cum...” he mumbled under his breath, fighting off his orgasm. When he had withdrawn a about halfway, he couldn’t stand it anymore and plunged back in, thrusting hard enough to shift the netting beneath you.
You sobbed, the feeling of being so full overwhelming, your shaking legs coming up to wrap around his hips, ankles locking over the flexing muscles of his ass. He was driving into you with abandon, the toes of his boots squeaking on the floor to find purchase, bracing his body against yours. His other arm he shoved under your back, fingers hooking over your shoulder to pull you down on his cock to meet each hard thrust. He was growling, muttering curses in multiple languages, hissing as you clenched and pulsed around him.
“Ah, fuck, sweet girl, I’m gonna — Shit! Fuck, baby, where do you want — “
“Inside... Want to feel you cum in me...” you moaned out, another orgasm rising like a massive wave in your core. “Ah, fuck!” you whined.
Your words snapped that last thread of control he had, and he surged forward, thrusting in wild, arhythmic strokes that sent you careening over the edge. Your climax washed over you like a euphoric wave, slow and liquid, a golden warmth that engulfed your lower half before spreading like molten honey.
Mando could feel your walls clamp down and spasm, milking his cock, drawing him in deeper. He threw his head back and came with a bellow, a primal, jagged roar of triumph. His chest lifted as his back arched, his cock exploding inside your walls, pumping ribbons of his thick seed deep into your hungry cunt.
He barely managed to throw an arm out to catch himself before falling forward. He was trembling above you. and when his elbow buckled, his head fell to your chest. His nose was smooshed into the side of your breast, his panting breaths teasing the sensitive bud of your nipple into a hard little nub beneath the thin material of his tunic. He gave a dazed grin at the sight, wishing he had the energy to take it in his mouth, but he wasn’t sure he could even lift his head yet.
“Stars, pretty girl. I think you’ve killed me.”
A breathless wheeze of laughter burst out of your chest, and you reached up to pull down the hand now splayed limp over your face to your lips. You left a lingering kiss in the palm as you crooked your other arm over your eyes, just so the temptation to peek wouldn’t get the best of you. You felt him lift his head with reluctance, his weight shifting, before his lips pressed to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss.
“You alright? I know I went pretty hard this time. I didn’t mean to lose it like that, but — “
Your hand came up to touch his face, landing on his neck instead. You slid it upward to cup his jaw, the feel of his patchy beard against your palm endearing. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you told him and drew him down for another kiss. “It was perfect. The best I’ve ever had,” you whispered against his lips.
He sighed, smiling against your mouth in relief and pleasure. When he shifted again, he saw you grimace. “Did I hurt you, sweet girl?” he rushed to ask, lifting his weight off you.
You giggled and shook your head. “No, it’s not that. There’s something cold and sticky all over your chest plate. It feels... icky.”
He glanced down to see your release from earlier smeared over his beskar, and he chuckled, low and dirty. “That’s your fault,” he teased. “You drowned me when you came the first time.”
Your mouth dropped open and, if not for his hand coming down to hold your arm in place, you would have jerked it away from your eyes to stare at him in shock. “I did not!” you gasped. mortified.
“Oh, you did, pretty girl,” he crooned. “I want to make you do it again.”
“What? N-Now?!”
A full-on laugh rumbled out of his chest this time. “No, sweet girl. As much as I’d love to, I don’t either one of us is going to be able to go another round after that last one.”
“Oh, thank the Maker,” you blurted out, and then winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean —”
He sniffed in amusement and pecked you on the lips. “I know what you meant, mesh’la.” Sitting back on his knees, he rubbed at his face, grinning at the sticky feel of your spend drying in his mustache. He was positively covered in your cum, and he fucking loved it. His poor cock gave a valiant twitch before he tucked it back into his pants and stood. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get in the shower.” He retrieved his helmet, slipping it back on before bending to take you by the hand.
You groaned. “Just lemme sleep here. Can’t move right now.”
“You’ll freeze down here,” he chided you. “Now come on. I’ll help you.”
You whined as he hauled you onto your feet, and you staggered on your shaking legs. He shook his head and turned his back to you, bending his knees slightly. “Hop on. I’ll carry you up the ladder. Otherwise, we will be down here all night.”
You made a face at him, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, making a weak hop to get onto his back. Grasping your thighs, he hitched you up a little higher and stood, then trudged towards the ladder at the opposite end of the hold.
“Oh, stars,” you moaned out behind him, dropping your forehead to his back. “Do you think we woke Grogu? We were, uh... ahem... We were, you know, a little loud,” you whispered.
“Well, the ship’s still flying, and I didn’t hear anything break while we were down here, so I’m going to say no.”
You giggled. “He’s gonna get it tomorrow morning,” you vowed. “He was the reason I got caught up in that stupid net in the first place. He somehow managed to get on that top shelf with a whole sleeve of cookies and my datapad.” You paused, moaned again. “Shit. My datapad. It broke when I dropped it.”
“Don’t worry, mesh’la. We’ll get you another one, and I’ll talk to Grogu myself tomorrow morning, right after breakfast. Okay?”
You sighed, a little grin tugging at your lips. “Okay.” You heaved a sigh, tightening your grip when Mando started to climb up the ladder. “I know one thing. I’m burning that stupid net when we get back to Nevarro.”
Mando huffed and shook his head. “Like hell you are. We’re bringing that home with us. It’s going up in the bedroom, right above the bed.”
You gasped in shock, rearing your head back. “Mando!”
His rumbling chuckle bounced off the metal walls of the ship, and a warmth like the sun bloomed in your chest as a smile as big as the Dune Sea spread across your face.
“Okay, fine. We’ll discuss the cargo net later. But right now, I want a shower.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mando purred, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Taking your hand, he led you into the ‘fresher.
Despite Mando’s earlier doubts, you found out that you both did indeed have another round left in you.
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(End notes: Just wanted to mention @saradika because she created the dividers and banners I’m using. She makes them for free. You can check out her masterlist on her blog. Her fics are *chef’s kiss* too.) 
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thiswaytwoinfinity · 4 months
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color up my skies – bob floyd x fem!reader
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Bob Floyd is always beautiful. But there’s something about the way the sunset makes his skin glow and the way that Montana drawl makes your toes curl that means you need to have him … even if you’re on the side of the road.
a/n: finally my entry for IBFFM is complete! This is the first fic I have actually written in months and it feels fitting that it would be for Bob, who stole my heart and introduced me to the TGM fandom. I love it here, y’all. I hope you enjoy my offering.
warnings: smut (18+ only) oral (m receiving), fingering, grinding, unprotected piv (in my mind she’s on bc), praise and breeding kink if you squint, truck sex so kind of public?
tagging @attapullman as a thank you for founding the hottest holiday ever 😉 and a h/t to @withahappyrefrain whose post about bob babbling when he gets close rewired something in my brain
Bob Floyd was always beautiful.
You could list a million instances when you felt stunned by him — when he was bobbing his head along to the music at the Hard Deck, observing his fellow Daggers; rumpled and bleary-eyed in the morning, waiting for his ancient coffee maker to hurry up; standing on your front porch and staring at you in awe, despite the fact that you’ve been together for over a year; flushed and panting with fogged up glasses as he lifts his head up from between your thighs — and still think of more.
But right now, with the pink and orange rays of the fading sunlight illuminating his beautiful cheekbones, the wind ruffling the longer bits of hair that peek out from his beat-up ball cap and those beautiful dimples peeking out, Bob Floyd is downright breathtaking.
“Penny for your thoughts?” the WSO asks, taking a sip from the bottle of soda in his hand. He grins softly as he looks over at you, reclined back on your elbows in the bed of his beloved truck. “You’ve been quiet for a while over there.”
You bite your lip, face heating up a bit as you confess, “You’re just so gorgeous, Bobby.” The tips of his ears turn pink at the praise and he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair before replacing it.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you, darlin’,” he drawls, his accent stronger than ever thanks to the week you two have spent back in his home town.
You had been a little nervous when Bob asked you to come with him on a trip back to Montana after the birth of his nephew. Meeting each others’ parents during their brief trips to San Diego was one thing, but spending two and a half weeks in his childhood home? There were so many ways that could test your relationship.
But eight days into your trip, you were getting to know a whole different side of your beautiful Bob.
“I mean it. Montana looks good on you,” you tell him, reaching out to caress his face with your hand. “I like this whole ‘country boy’ vibe you have going on.”
Bob chuckles, warm and deep, as he gently turns his cheek into your palm. Your thumb gently rubs over one of his dimples, a sign that he’s relaxed and happy. “If I had known that taking you to watch the sunset in my truck would earn me all of these compliments, I woulda done it a lot sooner,” he murmurs.
“Guess you should’ve. Maybe you could have wooed me properly.”
You’re teasing of course; Bob is a complete romantic, surprising you with flowers and picnics on the beach and candlelit dinners at home. “Was this how you impressed all the girls in high school? You’d take them for a ride in your truck?”
He wraps his fingers around your wrist and kisses your knuckles before gently entwining your hands together and lowering them to his lap.
“I think you’re overestimating how many girls were interested in me back then,” Bob laughs. You roll your eyes — you’ve seen pictures of your boyfriend in high school, all gangly limbs and round glasses, and you can imagine falling for him back then too. “‘Sides, they all grew up here too. These big fields aren’t all that impressive when you see them every day.”
He leans over and presses one, two kisses to your neck, right above your collar bone. A shiver runs through your body that has nothing to do with the early evening breeze.
“That’s why I saved it for my favorite city girl,” Bob adds, his lips still pressed against your skin. You can feel the smirk on his mouth and it makes you feel a little dizzy.
Bob loved to make fun of you for being a “city girl,” joking about how you were lulled to sleep at night by the sound of sirens instead of crickets and laughing at your refusal to learn how to drive until after college. (Okay, but Bobby, you don’t need a license when you have public transport!) He secretly loved it, though. It gave him a thrill to think about how your vastly different lives converged the day you met at Payback’s engagement party.
Bob’s not sure he believes in fate, but he’s endlessly thankful for whatever forces brought you into his life.
You giggle a little as he continues to kiss and nuzzle his face against your quickly warming skin, hand ghosting up his arm to wrap around Bob’s shoulders and pull him impossibly closer. “Bobby …” you breathe, feeling his teeth gently nip at your collarbone. “Bobby, behave. We’re out in the open.”
Your handsome Navy man just smiles and proceeds to work on sucking a bruise into your neck that will make it very obvious what the two of you got up to when you return to his parents’ house.
“Bob —“ you start again, giving the hair at the nape of his neck a quick tug to try and catch his attention, but all you get in response is a deep groan pressed into your skin. With a smirk of your own, you slide your free hand onto one of Bob’s denim-clad thighs, before giving his hair another, sharper tug. The WSO freezes in place.
“Now, darlin’ …” he drawls, his voice low and rumbly in a way that shoots directly into your core. Bob lifts his head up slowly, his eyes hooded and his beautiful pink mouth shiny and puffy from exertion. “If you want me to start behavin’, you’re gonna need to stop pulling on my hair like that.”
“How come?”
Bob’s big hands come up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes are locked on his. Your chest is heaving as you watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken, that beautiful sky blue turning to a seductive sapphire as his pupils dilate.
“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna have no choice but to take you right here,” Bob explains. “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my time with you out here. Make you fall apart the way I like …”
You let out an involuntary whimper at his words, your eyes fluttering closed as a rush of heat floods through you.
“Or is that something you want, huh?” Bob teases, his lips hovering over yours as he pulls you closer.
“Please, Bobby …” Your voice is breathy, more air than sound as you press your mouth against his. Bob’s thumbs gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours as you let out a soft groan. No matter how long it’s been, Bob always kisses you like he’s just gotten back from a months-long deployment and it makes your head swim with delight.
(It also happens to have been a few days since you’ve had the chance to properly make out, which does nothing to calm the desire pulsing in your veins.)
“Missed you,” you sigh in between kisses and you feel more than hear Bob’s chuckle.
“C’mere baby,” he mutters, sliding one hand under one of your thighs and tugging, manhandling you to straddle his lap with ease.
You let out a little squeak before settling down, pressing your crotch down to feel where he’s already growing hard in his worn-out jeans. Bob curses lowly and wraps those delicious arms around your waist to pull you closer, his hips pushing up into yours unconsciously as his mouth trails from yours to your neck, down, down until he’s peppering kisses across your chest and the top of your cleavage. You can feel the edges of his signature BCGs dig into your soft flesh as Bob works his mouth along the neckline of your sundress.
“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you look in this dress?” Bob asks after running his teeth lightly along your décolletage. “Drives me crazy when you wear it, just wanna pull it up and bend you over, doesn’t matter where we are.”
“Bobby!” you gasp, your nails scratching lightly up and down his biceps. Though he was a perfect gentleman on your first few dates — he even waited for you to kiss him first, blushing deeply when you tugged his face towards yours at the end of your third date — it didn’t take long for Bob to learn how much you liked it when he voiced all of the dirty thoughts running through his head.
It still takes you by surprise sometimes, the way your mild-mannered boyfriend can get you wet with just a few filthy comments.
And fuck are you already wet, rolling your hips against Bob’s as his talented fingers slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he can have better access to your chest. “Need you, need you so bad,” you keen, arching your back to push your breasts closer to your boyfriend’s mouth. “Bobby, please.”
“Okay, okay,” he mutters, pulling back from your chest with a luck of reluctance obvious on his beautiful face. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he adds, stilling your hips in his lap. You only realize you let out a whine because of the way he’s rubbing his big hands up and down your sides, trying to soothe you. “Just wanna get you somewhere a little more private. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”
You nod almost frantically, your bottom lip between your teeth to try and hold back your moans. Letting out a deep breath, you slide off Bob’s lap and hop down out of the truck bed, your thighs squeezing together when you watch the way his biceps flex as he lifts the tailgate back into place after following.
He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, practically running around to the front of the truck and yanking the door open. Bob holds back a moment, waiting for you to climb in, but instead, you turn him by his hips and push him back into the cab so that he’s sprawled across the bench seat.
“‘M I not moving fast enough for you?” he asks with a laugh, planting one leg on the floor of the car and swinging the other up onto the creaky leather as he slides towards the driver’s side.
In response, you simply grin, before climbing in after him and pulling the door closed behind you.
But instead of laying yourself on top of Bob — which he’s clearly expecting you to do, the way his arms are hanging open to make room for you — you crouch down in the footwell and reach for his belt.
“Wait, baby, you don’t have to —“ he starts, before cutting himself off with a jolt when you cup his blue through the front of his pants.
“I want to,” you insist, fingers quickly working to open his belt and his jeans. “Want you. Want you so bad, Bobby. Next time we’re not staying at your parents’ house. I can’t go this long without touching you, it’s all I can think about.”
Bob tosses his head back with a moan, his hips lifting up as he helps you tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his hard cock. It slaps up against the bottom of his stomach, flushed and already wet at the tip, twitching slightly when you reach out to wrap your hand around the base. You wait a beat for him to lock eyes with you before you lean in and wrap your mouth around the tip, swirling your tongue around it to gather up the bit of precome pooling there.
“Oh, darlin’,” Bob practically growls, the deep timbre of his voice making you moan as you start to bob your head up and down. “Such a perfect fuckin’ mouth. You’re so good to me, baby. So g-good.”
You pull off and give him a long lick from base to tip before attempting to swallow down as much as you can at once. It took a while for you to be able to deep throat Bob like this — he’s so much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before, thick and long and just slightly curved in a way that makes you feel so deliciously full — but Bob was patient and understanding and now you like to show off for him whenever you can.
You pull off to catch your breath, a thin line of spit connecting your mouth to him, before leaning back in working your mouth down to his base, his public hair tickling your nose. You swallow around him and the feeling of your throat closing around his cock makes Bob jump and swear, a fist coming up to hit the roof. The quick buck of his hips makes you cough and sputter and he lifts your head off of him for a second to check in.
“Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that, felt so damn good I lost my mind for a second,” he rambles, chuckling softly, his thumb rubbing at the corner of your smiling mouth. “You okay there?”
Instead of replying, you just giggle and nod, nipping at the tip of Bob’s thumb before you get back to what you were doing, sucking and licking at his cock while stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bob’s stomach flex as he pants and moans above you, words of praise falling from his lips in a dazed ramble.
“So beautiful, you’re so beautiful like this, my gorgeous girl.” A loud moan interrupts his declarations, those big hands sweeping up to hold your hair back out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swallow him down again. “Yeahhhhh, just like that baby, good girl. God, you’re so good to me, love it when I can feel myself all the way in your throat, shit.”
You pull off to breathe before swallowing him down again, fingers cupping and caressing his balls as you hold him there, tip brushing against the back of your throat, enjoying the way Bob’s thighs shake and his hands tighten in your hair.
You repeat the action a few more times, tears staring to run down your cheeks before he suddenly tugs your head up and away from his cock.
“Don’t wan’ come down your throat, darlin’, need to come inside you,” he rambles, petting the sides of you head absently, his eyes fixed on your chest as the straps of your dress slide further down and reveal the soft satin of your bra underneath. “Please, baby, please let me fuck you, gonna fuck you so full ...”
The edge of desperation in Bob’s voice makes you surge up from the floor, climbing into his lap as you kiss him, all tongue and teeth and desire.
“Yes, Bobby, yeah,” you say against his mouth, tugging at his white tee shirt until he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his broad, defined chest makes you rub yourself against him, sticky wet panties brushing against the hot ridge of his hard cock.
As you roll your hips again and again, the lace catches against your clit, making you moan loudly as Bob lifts his hips into yours.
“You’re so wet, darlin,’ I can feel it, I can feel how you soaked right through your panties,” he says, eyes closing briefly at the sensation, before they fly open and he finishes tugging the bodice of your dress down to your waist. He gives your breasts a quick squeeze, letting out a soft grunt before teasing and pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric. “Such a sweet girl, my good girl, and you get so fuckin’ wet just from sucking my cock.”
“Bobby, please, fuck me,” you moan, hips working more frantically against his, chasing your high as he whispers naughty encouragement to you.
“I will, baby, I will,” he promises, voice soothing despite his movements bringing your closer and closer to the edge. He sits up properly in the seat, grabbing you by the hips and moving your body against his. “Wanna see you come like this first, watch you fall apart in my lap, love it when you get desperate like this.”
Bob drops one hand to your lap, working it up the skirt of your dress to meet your soaked panties.
With a low curse, he slides his hand into them, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing in steady circles while you throw your head back and moan at the feeling of his hands on you.
“Fuck, Bob, right t-there, I’m so close baby,” you babble, hips continuing to swivel as you grind against his hand, his cock, edging further and further to your peak, nails scraping down Bob’s torso. His murmured little “c’mon, come for me,” helps push you over with a shout, your body shaking and trembling in his arms as he works you through your orgasm.
“Juuuust like that, so gorgeous baby, so good for me,” Bob says, his thumb slowing down against your clit as you come down from your high. When your eyes flutter open and you take him in, cheeks flushed and glasses slightly fogged from all of the exertion. He barely gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls your panties to the side and begins sliding his cock into you.
You give a shout that turns into a high-pitched whine as you feel the head of him press inside you. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” you babble, walls still fluttering a little as you go to slide all the way down his cock, needing him inside you as quickly as possible.
“Uh-uh, darlin’, slow,” he chastises, grabbing your hips to still you about halfway down his cock. “Don’t wanna hurt you, just take your time, you’re doing so well for me.”
It feels like time slows down as the two of you work to get every inch of him inside, tiny little movements of your hips helping you to take more and more until your hips meet.
You take a moment to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the side before snatching Bob’s hat and doing the same. He doesn’t even seem to register your decision to rid him of his hat, already fixated on your bare chest, moving to suck one of your peaked nipples into his mouth with a moan.
“Love these tits, baby,” he mutters against you and you card your fingers through his hair in response. It’s a little sweaty from hiding under his hat in the heat all day, but you can’t get enough of the way Bob groans and whines as you tug at the longer strands and scratch your nails against his scalp. “Gotta move, darlin’, gotta fuck you now.”
“Yes, yes,” you say, lifting your hips until just his the tip of his cock is still inside you and sliding back down.
“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he encourages, words already beginning to slur together as he gets drunk on pleasure. You repeat the motion and he smirks, before tugging one nipple between his teeth to make you keen. “You wanna show me you know how to ride? Huh? C’mon city girl, ride me.”
Bob’s voice gets a little breathy towards the end of his taunt and your moans get louder as you feel him press against that spongey spot within you on each downstroke.
For a while, the only thing you can hear is the sound of skin slapping together, punctuated by groans and growls and the occasional whine when Bob pinches or tugs at your nipples with his teeth, the tiny spark of pain making the pleasure more delicious. He’s so tuned into you that he can sense that you’re getting tired almost before you do, wrapping his arms around you and adjusting so that both of his feet are planted against the floor of his truck and he begins thrusting up into you, giving your burning thighs a break.
His hips move quickly, punching little “unhs” out of you with each thrust, tip bullying your g-spot relentlessly. Your walls begin to tighten and flutter against him and Bob frees a hand to rub two fingers against your clit in a slow, steady motion that contrasts beautifully with the speed of his thrusts.
“Oh my g— fuck, Bob, feels so good. You feel so g-good, love you so much.” You’re not even aware of what you’re saying, words spilling out of your mouth mindlessly as you let Bob bring you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Need to come, Bobby, I’m so close, wanna come for you, please, please,” you beg, peppering kisses all over his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere your lips can reach.
Bob’s fingers speed up, his mouth dropping open to let out a low groan, his face flushed and eyes glassy.
“Yes, good girl, just like that,” he encourages, the bottom of his glasses starting to fog up as a result of his exertion. You moan loudly at the sight, tossing your head back and losing yourself in the feeling of Bob’s talented fingers, his cock, the tension inside you building, building. “Come for me, beautiful, please. Let go for me, so perfect, so good to me, can’t believe you’re mine – shit.”
Your boyfriend’s praise tips you over the edge and you feel that band inside you snap, your vision whiting out at the edges as your walls clamp down on Bob’s cock. You’re shaking and moaning in his arms, gushing around him as he murmurs and works you through it. “Love you, love you, yes, yes, love you baby,” pressed into your clammy skin as Bob can’t bring himself to lift his mouth up from your chest, shoulders, neck long enough to speak clearly.
You come down from your high with one last shudder, walls fluttering around him and making him moan against you. You lean back to take a look at his face - pink and sweaty, a smile on his puffy lips and looking more beautiful than you think you’ve ever seen him before - before cupping it between your hands and kissing him.
You’re not sure how long the two of you just sit there and kiss, could be seconds, could be minutes, but you’re too lost in each other to care.
Eventually, though, your hips start rolling again in his lap, causing Bob to let out little whimpers and moans against your mouth. He lets his teeth tug at your bottom lip before pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “God, you feel so good, honey,” he says, eyes locked on yours as you begin to ride him properly once again.
“Wanna make you feel good, Bobby,” you coo, one hand threading through his damp hair and the other caressing his jaw.
“You a-always do, so good to me, so good baby,” he rambles, breath hitching every time you squeeze around him. “Don’t know how I g-got so l-lucky, can’t believe you’re mine, dar-darlin’.”
Bob’s hips begin thrusting up jerkily to meet yours, his eyes starting to get glassy behind those big frames. Knowing he’s getting close, you gently tug on his hair, short little bursts of pain that drive him crazy and get his hips moving faster.
“Jusss like that, god, you’re taking me so well, doing so well,” he says before grabbing onto your hips and holding you in place and thrusting up into you almost frantically. “Wanna be with you all the t-time, wanna fuck you every day, every night, keep you - yeah, do that again baby, pull my hair like that - keep you full of me.”
You moan at the idea, loving the thought of Bob just taking you whenever he pleases.
“Yeah? T-that what you want? I’ll do it for you, do any-anything for you, gonna fuck a baby into you one d-day and make our own little fa - I’m so close - family,” he cuts himself off with a few more high-pitched moans, eyes slipping shut as if he’s picturing your future together.
The idea of being with Bob, having kids with him, settling down and spending your lives together, hits you like a freight train. You don’t think anything has ever sounded better to you.
“Want that, Bobby, want to be with you forever, wanna have your babies, please, Bobby,” you babble, hands running all over his hands and shoulders to pull him closer, hold him tighter.
“Fuck, fuck, yes, anything you want darlin’, oh my -“ he comes with a shout, eyes squeezing tightly shut and fingers holding onto you so hard that you will probably have bruises on your hips later. (You hope you do, you always wear all of the marks Bob leaves on you with pride.) You feel him twitch inside you, liquid heat making you feel impossibly full. He gives one, two little half thrusts as he finishes, before loosening his grip on your skin.
Fully panting, Bob takes a moment try and catch his breath before opening his eyes slowly. The look of pure adoration on his face almost knocks the wind out of you.
“Well,” he starts with a chuckle, pressing a few chaste kisses to your shoulder. “Nothing like that ever happened to me in high school.”
You bark out a surprised laugh, giggles spilling out as you watch Bob grin and then duck his head. The sun has almost fully set by now, pinks and oranges fading into purples and blues as the two of you laugh in Bob’s truck, faces flushed and glowing in the dusk.
In a minute, Bob will clean you up and help you get dressed, gently kissing you with each item of clothing you wrangle back on.
He’ll give you a look of confusion and then surprise when he realizes that his hat is somewhere underneath the seat and he’ll run his fingers through your hair to help you tame it before settling into the driver’s seat. He’ll rest one of those big, warm palms on your thigh as he drives you both back home, looking over to smile at you at every stop sign and red light.
You’ll both giggle, cheeks warm and eyes downcast when Bob’s mom asks about your afternoon over dinner and he’ll mentally start picking out engagement rings when he watches you bounce his nephew on your knee when the family gathers in the living room afterward.
Later that night, after you’ve both shyly admitted that you were serious about the promises you made to one another in the truck, Bob will smile as he watches the moonlight illuminate your sleeping face.
But for now, you two just enjoy this perfect moment, wrapped in one another as the crickets begin chirping outside. And neither you nor Bob think you’ve ever seen the other look more beautiful.
.
(Are we still doing readmore sacrifices?) Either way, please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!
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