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#when there’s not any clothes above size L…
lesbianboyfriend · 1 year
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going to any sort of local clothing swap event is always like wow. do the organizers of this event know any fat people. was there a single fat person involved with this event
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stargirlfics · 1 year
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IRON
got a request awhile back for Battinson + pussy eating and l couldn’t resist!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, size/strength kink, slight exhibitionism, reader is a bit of a brat! smut: oral (reader receiving), manual restraints, praise kink, body worship, mask kink
Word Count: 2.5k
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One could hardly say it was your fault. 
Bruce had left you here, in the Tower, all by your lonesome. You couldn’t be to blame, it was simple as that.
Though you didn’t protest his departure (you knew how important his work for the city was, how he’d answer that beacon shining high in Gotham’s stormy skies whenever it appeared) you also couldn’t help but sulk and pout about missing him. 
He could be out there all night and as selfish and indulgent as it was, you had plans, ones that involved as minimal amount of clothing as possible and his lips on yours, these desires being something you had started to tell him when it became clear he was needed in the city tonight instead. 
You could only hope the slight pinching grip of his hands on your waist as he left you with a tender kiss to your cheek meant he wouldn’t forget about your needs. 
It was raining now, just a little under a steady downpour and time seemed to move entirely too slow, barely an hour having passed with your next glance at the large grandfather clock in the foyer.  
Huffing a sigh, you wandered over to the bookshelves lining the alcoves in Wayne Tower’s main room, browsing amongst a few of your favorite novels that had found a new home here before you were pulling one off the shelf and snagging an old throw blanket, heading downstairs to Bruce’s hidden workspace to curl up in your usual spot and wait for his return. 
Funny, how casual this felt, like it was any other weekend night but most people in Gotham weren’t waiting up for the vigilante they called a lover to come home were they? And yet it was exactly where you wanted to be. 
For better or worse you were tied to Bruce and therefore tied to The Batman, swiftly coming to fall for both, to want both and all of who Bruce is, even when he made you worry. 
He promised both you and Alfred that he’d be careful and did every time he went out but he knew you would worry anyways, neither of you asking the other to change, loving each other too much to ask of it. 
Somehow you fashioned another fitting piece to the ever shifting puzzle that was Bruce Wayne and you weren’t going to trade it for the world.
The descent below ground brought a change in temperature, cool chilly air sweeping across your skin once you stepped onto the expanse of the abandoned terminus.
But the familiarity of it and the blanket draped over your shoulders was doing a fine job at keeping you warm, and the sleeping bats hanging above you were a fond presence with how much time you spent down here now. 
You were right at home.
Curled up on the sofa tucked into one of the spare corners in the workspace you chewed at the nail of your thumb, finding that the novel you’d chosen wasn’t helping your antsy, increasingly needy mood. 
The novel bordered on erotic and it made you squirm, heat creeping up from your chest to settle in your cheeks, your thighs pressing together without thought.
Mind wandering, dreaming of a steamy kiss, of being scooped up by him and made to feel good, the ache in your core finally being sated. 
You kept reading into the midnight hour, eventually unable to stop thinking of the details, his towering form, large, strong, and sure hands that gripped and held you so sweetly, so tightly, and how good it felt to be taken apart by him too. 
Bruce was unassuming like that, shy and reserved, awkward even, until he wasn’t, making it a point to discover all the ways he could fluster you, make you whine, and beg for him again and again. 
He was good at it too, had gotten especially skilled with that smart and stubborn mouth of his, and tonight, that’s what you wanted most. 
Wanted to grind yourself against his lips, his tongue, your clit bumping against his nose until your brain went quiet and all you could feel was the pulsing of the pleasure he loved giving you.  
Distracted by your fantasies you almost missed the soft whirring of the terminus gate opening, the book dropping closed in your lap when you realized he was back. 
It was late in the night now, it had been hours but you never felt more energized, letting the blanket pool around your middle as you watched the sleek black muscle car roll in, streaked with rain, the rumble from its engine reverberating against your chest in thrilling comfort. 
You stood up then, stretching out your limbs, a sly smirk threatening to stay on your lips as you watched Bruce step out of the car, his inky black cape draped around him, cowl shiny with moisture, and oh those eyes, shrouded in painted on shadows, his gaze finding yours immediately. 
“Thought you might be in bed by now,” his voice gruff but gentle as he spoke to you, a tone reserved especially for you.
“I considered it but thought waiting up for you here would be a lot better,” an innocent sigh left your lips while you busied yourself with folding the blanket, turning your back towards him, putting a nice little tilt and bend to your hips when you leaned over. 
The heavy footfall of his boots coming closer sent another thrill running up your spine, “Indeed it is, missed me that much, hm?”
Bruce was indulging your antics, always one to entertain your moods, your fantasies, wired on the adrenaline of his late night work in the streets, it made for such a potent mixture and you were delighted. 
“Mhm, cause someone’s skills were needed elsewhere, I had to make due all by myself,” you feigned a pout, trying to hide your smile when you spotted the briefest widening of his eyes at your words. 
He took another step towards you but you skirted away, dodging his hulking figure, the plated armor of his Bat suit still a little intimidating to you, your core clenching around nothing at the thought of being handled by those hands clad in Batman’s gloves, to feel his strength, the brute force in his biceps and forearms, pinning you down to do what he pleased with you. 
It’s all you could think about. 
Maybe it was the heightened level of your desire that made you feel a little bolder tonight, more eager to tease, to get under his ever-so-stoic skin, because you were making your way over to the car now, your hand trailing over its frame, walking, swaying almost till you were standing at the hood of the car, facing Bruce again who’s eyes were fixated on you. 
No words needed to be said as you smiled sweetly, your hands falling to your sides, tracing the edges of the satin slip dress hugging your body, fingers slipping under the hem, dragging it up your thighs a little. 
Chest tightening at his steady, measured steps toward you, one of your hands coming down to swipe over your inner thighs, touching yourself before he could reach you all the way, a giggle slipping out when you heard him grumble in frustration. 
It wasn’t often that you leaned into your brattier tendencies, but tonight, you were in that kind of mood, something sparking low in your tummy seeing him in the cowl, the suit making him appear bigger, taller, and underneath that you knew he had the strength to carry all that gear, to move and fight in it and it made you feel so much smaller in comparison, finding a thrill in pushing buttons. 
“Move your hand, baby.” his command came gently, a warning in itself of sorts, telling you he was going easy on you, giving you a chance to behave. 
Any other night you would have yielded, knowing just how good he could give it to you when you listened to him, but tonight you wanted the less inhibited side of him so instead, you kept your hand between your thighs, fingers finding slick skin with ease. 
“You have to wait your turn, sir,” you flicked your eyes up towards his playfully, heart jumping into your throat at his expression, the tick of his jaw. 
Bruce was pressed against you now, hands moving up to cage you against his chest, your breaths heavier, already losing the battle. 
It was so easy for him to break your tough girl act, knowing full well you were just as desperate as he was, knowing your weak spots and using them to his advantage.
Like now, for instance, using your distracted state to catch you off guard, his hands finding your waist and lifting, placing you up onto the warm, wet hood of his car, a delighted squeak filling the air as he lay you back. 
You were dough in his hands, shaped by the roll and press of his fingers, the weight of them making you whine as he pushed your legs apart, all but growling at your lack of underwear. 
The sight of him settling between your thighs, his body over yours filling your entire field of vision unlocked something for you, your heart beating wildly at the feeling of the suit again your skin, cool droplets of water landing on from the ears of his cowl as he lowered his head to your ribs. 
His lips were warm as they kissed down your torso, his hands keeping your thighs spread out for him, open so his mouth had a clear path to travel down, your breath hitching the lower his mouth went. 
A needy whine slipped out when he stalled, just hovering over where you wanted him most, his huff of laughter making you squirm from sensitivity. 
“Look who can’t wait their turn now…you’re lucky I’m in a generous mood.” Bruce chuckled lowly, catching you by surprise and making you ache for more. 
“Please-oh!” you weren’t too proud to beg, his mouth finally touching down on puffy folds.
The move turned your plea into a moan, hands jerking, slipping on the rain droplets now soaking your dress, grasping anything for purchase as your hips rocked with his movements. 
Curses and half stifled moans filled the air as he buried his face into your heat, his tongue lapping and swirling around your clit, moving further down to taste you properly. 
Your muscles ache from the strain of flexing against him, your body chasing the sensations he was giving you, the building pressure in your abdomen, the way he groans against your pussy, drinking you down, it all made your brain hazy in the best way. 
“Taste so fucking good…fuck.” the words left his lips with ease, finding them easier to come by when he was under the suit, when he was most himself. 
Trembling hands of yours creep down to grasp at his own hands still keeping your thighs held apart wide, and then move down, timidly tugging his head closer, crying out at the change in pressure, all your nerves tingling. 
Something about only being able to catch glimpses of his eyes, the sharp edge of his jawline as he ate you out, and the rest covered by the mask made you open up for him further, your desires reaching no end. 
Your hands pushed at his arms until he caught your wrists, holding them back with one hand, pinning them to your tummy, leaving you panting, unable to help but grind yourself against the patterned flick and swirl of his tongue. 
The added thrill of being so exposed, though this was a private space, how open it seemed, made you feel on display, another wave of heat flooding your body. 
Goosebumps travel down your arms as the cool brush of his free hand caresses your frame, grabbing dewy flesh, feeling your breasts, your waist underneath his grip, loving how you molded to his touch, how perfect you were in his arms. 
He could spend all night like this, making you feel good, pulling those high pitched whines and gasps from your throat, making your thighs tremble like they were doing now. It’s all he could think of, all he could do. 
“Please, please, keep going, yes!” more whimpers fall prettily, your body turning soft and pliant under the sweet pressure of his lips, the way his tongue sweetly nudges inside you, licking your essence, building you up higher and higher. 
Every now and then he’ll slow it down, teasing you just a little for his own self indulgent reasons before heeding your heady whimpers for more, building you back up again, enjoying the way you seemed to drip from his tongue, how he could make such a mess of you. 
He knows you’re close, can tell by the way you flutter around his tongue, can feel the frenzied aching in your limbs as it begins to happen. 
“Come on, let go. Now. Let me feel you,” the assertion in his tone left no room to argue, the gruff, grit out encouragement giving you the final push you needed.
Your orgasm reaches you quickly as his tongue returns to your clit, dragging out the sensations, making you shake even more, almost exhausted by the force of it. 
What a sight this must be, being spread out so sinfully and all for him, something Bruce intended to savor, the fact that you were all his, that rough exterior shedding a little more easily now that he knew he’d given you what you needed. 
His lips were still leaving kisses on your throbbing clit and sensitive inner thighs, staying close, bright eyes peering into yours, wanting the close contact to go on a little longer. 
That was just fine by you, he could have whatever he wanted with the way he just made you feel, and still, amusement twinkling for just a moment in his eyes at seeing you struggle to catch your breath. 
Pushed up onto your elbows now you peer down, cheeks burning again at seeing just how messy you’d become, rain and your arousal damp on your inner thighs, shining around Bruce’s lips and chin.
“God…that was so good, thank you, baby,” your praise and gratitude were soft spoken, holding all the usual affection you had for him, none of your earlier antics remaining. 
You watched him smirk at your content sighs, pulling the cowl off with ease, a practiced move that was second nature now. 
It wasn’t fair that he could look so handsome, rain soaked and hair disheveled, black paint still smudged around his eyes too but it was a look that fit him well and had much too strong an effect on you, feeling the muscles of your thighs jump once more. 
“Anytime. I’m always ready to straighten out that attitude for you, beautiful. Just say the word.” 
Maybe it was the unmistakable glint in his eye or the way he spoke to you then that had you laying back against the car again, trying to hold back whimpers and giggles when he followed close after you, wanting, no needing another taste, needing to see you fall apart again. 
“Think you can be a good girl and keep those legs open for me?” 
“Mhm, just don’t want you to stop, please.” 
“Never…have to make up for all those hours I was gone, right.” 
You shared his sly little smile and lay back for him once more, the searing kisses unleashed upon your still tingling skin dragging you back under, right where you wanted to be, under the skillful fangs of The Bat himself.
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A/N: Well it had to be done! Cause I can’t be told otherwise, Rob’s Batman eats it like a starved man and I will stand by that! Period! Lol thank you for reading this fun little fic, lemme know what you think! Any and all thirsty comments welcome! 🖤
some tags, no pressure! @flamingdisputes @littlekidsteve @eupheme @saradika @allaboardthereadingrailroad @yelenas-lova @tarrenterror25 @moreofem @squidlywiddly87
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kitten-pile · 1 year
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pyramid head x fem! reader (smut)
>you try to escape him, but things don't turn out how you expected them to...
>rough, unprotected, non con consensual (dubcon??), size kink maybe? Pyramid head is very big.
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You've been running for what feels like hours now, but in reality it's only been a few minutes. Running, hiding, crawling and crouching in a desperate attempt to escape from him ⸺ Pyramid Head.
Your situation isn't exactly the most pleasant. You can feel a cramp building up in your side, and in your leg, too. Your breath, hitched and getting caught in your lungs, comes out in ragged huffs and puffs.
Fuck. He's close.
The heavy, steady footsteps follow you no matter how hard you try to escape, and your mind instantly goes to the worst places.
Would pyramid kill you instantly the second he caught up? Torture you? Capture you? It's a sickening thought. You can only hope for the best case scenario.
Then, as if it were a sign from above, you see it⸺ a small opening through a chain link fence. The hole isn't a easy fit by any means, but if you tried, maybe you could escape.
The footsteps are getting louder. You can hear the screeching of pyramid heads weapon on the cold hard ground, menacingly.
If this is your only option, so be it.
Using the last if your strength and stamina, you sprint to the fence and desperately start pushing yourself through. You try to squeeze, kick on the ground to push through, but your clothes are getting torn by loose ends and the fence is digging into your skin, and, and⸺
He's right behind you now.
You can feel the warmth radiating off of the executioner. He's sweaty. bloody. You can see his shillouette; he towers right over you, making you feel small. Powerless.
"N-no, no, please," You plead, but it falls onto deaf ears, "Please⸺ don't hurt me⸺"
You get cut off, because that's just about when you feel something hard press into your lower back.
Pyramid head doesn't instantly kill you. Instead, he hesistates, huffing and panting, like he's in some sort of pain.
But he doesn't dare hesitate to rip the flimsy clothes right off of you.
You let out a yelp of surprise, startled by the force as well as the cold air that pricks at your skin.
What is he⸺ is he doing what I think⸺
You're just about to make an attempt to escape when you feel his bruising grip on your hips, steadying you and locking you into place. You can feel him⸺ feel his hard throbbing cock press against your heat. No matter how much you want to think otherwise, you can feel heat pool in your gut, and it drips out of you.
Without any warning, pyramid head slams into you at full force.
Your mouth hangs agape as he continues at this ruthless pace, thrusting into you so hard you can feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix.
He's... big, so big, it feels like pyramid head gonna⸺
"Tear me into two!" You scream, lost in the pain and the pleasure, "Y-youre gonna tear into two, pyramid head!"
You feel tears cling onto your soft lashes, eyes watery with tears. Drool dribbles down your chin. So messy. So big...
"H-aah--" You pant, "F-feels so good, fuck! Mmph-"
Every time you wiggle, even try to move, Pyramid head grips your soft hips and slams you back onto his cock. He seldom makes noise, but he gives out small breaths and hisses as he fucks you.
You're going insane with all the pleasure! Whatever pain you felt tear at you before is completely gone⸺ all you feel is white, hot arousal.
The whole town could hear your screams by now. Your moans, your sweet moans, fill the air. You can hear the lewd slap slap slap of skin every time pyramid head's heavy balls slap against the back of your plush thighs.
" 's too much, f...fuck," you pant, feeling the tension build up in your core.
"gonna cum, gonna cum! 'M gonna⸺!"
Your orgasm hits you like a train, eyes rolling to the back of your head and completely blinding you with pleasure. Pyramid head fucks you through it, your body twitching and spasming around his length.
Pyramid head's hips begin to lose their rhythm, turning sloppy and soon enough, you feel his warm cum paint your insides white.
It's quite the feeling⸺ hes messy, and his warm seed spills out of your pussy tainting the ground below. But it just feels so good inside you.
Pyramid head pulls out, a string of his thick cum sticking to the head of his cock. There's loads and loads of cum, spilling out of you and dripping down your thighs. Your poor pussy is stuffed to the brim.
Your legs give in and you feel pyramid head tear open the fence, freeing you. He picks you up as if you weighed nothing and sets you onto your feet, wobbly and in a fucked out daze.
"Hah..."
Before he flips back his clothes like nothing happened, you catch a glimpse of his heavy cock, red and angry. You scramble for your own clothes, but before you can let out a word, he's picking up his sword and on his way out.
You feel like you're bound to run into him again.
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spicyyy-muffin · 1 year
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Hide n Seek
Scare kink, size kink, this is literally pure smut please be warned. 18+
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“catch me if you can”
i pressed my walkie on its specific channel to ghost.
“you’re an idiot y/l/n” he spoke through the Bluetooth device in my ear
“get outta my ear McTavish”
I climbed over old couches and rusted warehouse equipment. I needed to find a good place to hide that wasn't blown to pieces or see through.
turning off my walkie and even going as far as lowering the volume in the bluetooth device in my ear.
 I would never live it down if he found me.
“he's got tha name ghost fora reason, you daft dimbo.”
“don’t you think i’m aware?”
I crouched and squeezed in between a small space under an abandoned desk.
trying to make myself as small as possible, i curled up bringing any residue around me as a cover.
“He's gonna get you little one.”
The quiet groan of the door forced me to shut the device off completely.
his footsteps i couldn’t hear, aside for the slightest crunch in gravel beneath his combat boots growing increasingly closer to me.
looking through the cracks in the metal, no guns were drawn except for a knife in his right hand.
my heart sank, i trusted him with my life. but spooking a member of 141 was a death wish. and catching them at the wrong time would be a one way ticket to wherever my six feet deep hole waited for me. 
he slithered through the door, continuing to the next room while I waited for complete silence.
I opted for the door he came through, thinking he would be in an entirely different side of the building than me.
I kept my hands free of any weapon, preparing for the slightest sign I might have to run or crawl my way out.
I stood at the top of a flight of stairs. no sound, no lights, no gravel, I could have been alone.
a breath shot down my neck.
in seconds I was against a wall with a burly man pushing against me. his cool blade against the soft of my neck.
his eyes glowed into mine, heavy breaths breaking the silence.
"I thought you were the shit?"
I shuffled my arms underneath him trying to find a leeway. His eyes brightened in amusement.
The fabric on his face lifted revealing his mouth seconds before he dropped it to my neck.
The knife was digging into the left side of my neck, drawing blood in his wake. Hurting more the harder his kisses became.
“Ghost, Mctavish is- he’s right-” 
He brought his head up to look into my eyes, “at the bar two blocks from here. You underestimated my intentions for hide and seek sweetheart.” 
Pocketing the knife, his hands rustled with my clothing until they landed on the button of my jeans. 
On his knees he looked up to me. Even though he was supposed to be feeling vulnerable we both knew that I was the only submissive one here. 
“I wanna taste.” 
My fingers traced his plump lips first, short stumble scratching me.
I smiled looking down at him, trying to memoriize the outline of his beautiful face. 
“I want a kiss.”
In seconds his large hands covering my cheeks, lips ravishing mine as if we were running out of time. Time seemed to slow down when his tongue traced my bottom lip, pulling away to take a breath and pushing into me deeper. His hands were everywhere, m,y hair, taking a minute to wrap around my throat, he reached both of them down under my butt and lifted me on his waist. 
A few inches above him again he pulled away to look up to me. 
“Don know how long I can do this sweetheart.” 
He panted onto my mouth. 
“I wanna taste you so bad but another part of me is saying I should jus fill you to the brim.” 
A hot bolt of arousal shot down my stomach into my clit. 
I laughed against his lips kissing them one more time. “Maybe you should just hurt me.” 
He groaned pressing his forehead onto mine. 
“There you go saying some dumb shit again.” 
My back pressed against the cold concrete floor, combat pants somewhere across the room his head was in between my legs and he wasted no time. 
Switching between tongue fucking me and wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking so hard I knew I wasn’t going to last long. 
I threaded my fingers through his hair trying to mask my sounds. 
He pulled away his hand gripping my throat, “Unless the bar Soap’s in can hear you, you’re not loud enough. N what does tha mean angel?” 
My breath was shaky, “I don- I don’t get to cum.” 
“Mmmm good girl.” 
His mouth resumed and this time I let my noises be whatever they wanted. My orgasm consumed me. My lower back lifted from the ground as I pleaded with him to stop before he flipped me around and did exactly what he said he was gonna. 
He filled me to the brim. Hot pants on the back of my neck I tried to grip onto anything I could to distract me from the pleasure I was feeling from his cock hitting my cervix. 
“Sososo- so good, please don’t.” 
“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna.” Seconds, minutes im not sure how long until I could hear the slight sound of a phone buzzing. 
His phone. 
He flipped me around again, putting my legs around his neck he found new spots that drew me crazier to the edge. 
One palm covered my mouth as he leaned down to my ear, “Be a good girl and stay quiet for me.” 
My brows scrunched up before he reached his other hand down to grab his cellphone and he answered the call. I could hear our captains voice over his balls slapping against me. 
“Ghost, you copy?”
“Yes Sir.” 
“Clear?”
“Yes Sir.” 
“I have one more important thing to discuss with you, when-” The Captain continued as Ghost screwed his eyes shut in pure irritation. 
“Yes Sir.” 
“Good.” 
The call ended and he abandoned his phone near my head and removed his other from my mouth. 
“Fuckin prick.”
He smirked down at me.
“It turned you on, could feel you squeezing me harder.” 
“AsshoLE-” He pounded into me harder. 
“We can try that another time.” My vision turned murky as stars exploded behind my eyes. 
“Fuckin hell, I don't think I’ll ever get tired of that.” 
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backwzzds · 10 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you look so good, ichigo kurosaki (nsfw)
ichigo always made sure to show you how good you looked.
you were sat alone at the bar, chin in the palm of your hand as you mindlessly swirled the olive around in your martini. you didn’t even drink martinis, but the flirty bartender insisted you tried his own speciality. you sighed for probably the millionth time that night, feeling your social battery finally die out.
countless men had hit on you tonight, all of which you hardly showed any mind. you were beginning to entertain the idea of engaging in mindless flirtation in response, but you knew the strawberry blonde waiting for you back at home would attest to that idea.
ichigo was of course working late on some soul reaper business. the even you attended was a couple’s banquet your job had hosted, a sort of offering for your co-workers to get to know you and your domestic life outside of work. you didn’t want to go at first; you preferred keeping your private life and work life completely separate. but ichigo managed to convince you to get out and have some fun anyway.
“c’mon, mama,” the strawberry blonde looked at you with encouraging eyes. “all you do is work, why not take the free night off and go? i know they’re gonna have some expensive ass shit there for drinks. you’ll look hot in that dress.”
you rolled your eyes. “you do know it’s a couple’s banquet, right? you gonna take the night off to go with me?” your eyebrows raised with crossed arms, already knowing the answer that was to come. you continue at ichigo’s silence. “thought so. i’m not sure if i even wanna go.”
well, here you were.
“sorry i’m late,” a voice as smooth as cashews filled your ears. “i’m here with y/n y/l/n, junior associate.” you look over and see ichigo at the entrance, skin clad in a suit that complimented his paler skin perfectly. he exchanges a few more casual words with the bailor at the front door before confidently striding his way on over to you. “hey there beautiful, his voice is silky as he stands in front of your sitting figure. stuffing his hands in his pockets, he starts the game you two have notoriously played for the years you’ve been together. “come here alone?”
you can’t help but roll your eyes in attempt to hide your smile, gladly playing along. “i sure did.”
ichigo catches on and continues. he blows out a surprised whistle as he steps closer to your thick figure. “damn. you don’t got a man?”
you can’t help but play along as you feel the alcohol of your drinks flood your bloodstream. “nope.”
ichigo stares into your eyes and squints his own. “you’re drunk.” his lips can’t help but form into a happy smile. the thing ichigo loved about you was that no one could ever tell you were drunk. you were able to keep your composure and behavior so well, only he was able to tell when you were intoxicated just by looking in those pretty eyes of yours. and he was shocked at the fact that you were actually drunk around hundreds of your coworkers.
a shrug erupts from your shoulders as you down the last of your drink. “i thought you weren’t coming?” though your voice proved otherwise in it’s naturally colder tone, you really were glad that ichigo came to support you, even if it was last minute.
“couldn’t miss something so important to my girl,” ichigo gives you his charming smile. his eyes can’t help but look you up and down as he took in your outfit. the little black dress was hugging your curvy body so tight, he almost wish you went a size up in the risky clothing so he wouldn’t have to resist himself against your full tits begging to be let out from the confinements of the ribbed fabric. he could see the outlines of your nipples through the thicker material, and it was turning him on the longer he stared at you.
the next words to leave his mouth are barely above a whisper. but from the sensual look of lust in his eyes, you already know what he’s trying to say. “come here.”
you drop your head back as ichigo grabs your cheek and presses his lips against yours. you can’t help but moan into the kiss as you feel his tall, slender body press against your short and pudgy one. the fabric of his own suit was blocking his body from yours, but he swore he could feel the areoles of your nipples pebble up and your nipples stand at attention through your dress in response to his touch.
it was no secret the effect he had on your body. he was so sure that if he pulled away right now and admired your figure, he’d see just how much his touch sent shocks through you. and that thought sent another devious one in his mind. you instantly feel the soul reaper’s hands discreetly slip its way between your legs and run its middle finger across the slit of your underwear.
ichigo smiled into the kiss, already knowing you were sporting a thong. lace at that too. he pecks your lips three more times amid the makeout session before pulling away and staring down at you with low-lid lovestruck eyes. “you look so good t’night, mama.”
your hardened personality shatters at his compliment. only he could bring out the softer side of you as you inevitably blushed and looked away from his gaze, muttering a small thank you. ichigo chuckled at your sudden shyness before pulling you up. “lets go dance before i get even more rock hard on this floor.”
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aangell333 · 9 months
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sirius black smut alphabet
sirius black x reader
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
sirius is a very giving man, he likes you to be happy at all times, so of course he’s going to run his baby a nice, warm bubble bath. no matter how tired he is, he never fails to clean you up after a good night
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
although sirius loves all of you, he adores thighs. I will stand by this statement until I die. he just loves them, they look good in anything. his main reasoning is that no matter what you wear, he can see your thighs. he’ll constantly have his hand on them or be gently running his fingers along them
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
loves to see his cum anywhere on you. on your ass, chest, stomach or leaking from your hole, he loves to see it
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
sirius would love to fuck you in a broom closet in between classes. having to keep you both quiet as he fucks into you against the wall. the risk of anyone walking past and hearing you. he loves the adrenaline rush, but still wants to keep your dignity
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
this goes without saying that this whore knows what he’s doing. he knows exactly how to get you turned on, get you wet and then get in his bed - or on his bed, he can never wait to get under the sheets and wants to see all the action happening
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
anything. anything where he can fuck you raw is his favourite. but he does like cowgirl; making you do the work until you can’t fuck yourself on him anymore and he thrusts up into you and shows you how to properly fuck. oh yeah.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
if something like a zipper gets caught or someone struggles with their clothing then he’ll share a giggle with you, but he mostly likes to stay serious and dominant in bed
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
is always scared that too much hair is gonna scare you off so makes sure to shave. he still keeps a small patch and a happy trail just above his cock as it makes him feel like a man, but everything is well-groomed
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
likes to be rough and dominant with you but can be slow and sensual if you’ve just come back from a sweet date or a romantic walk
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he likes to jack off when he knows you’ll find him. like when you’ve arranged to meet in his dorm and you walk in to find him jacking off. he’ll make you sit and wait, needily watching him with a wet core
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
d/s dynamics, choking kink, size kink, corruption kink, tit fucking, thigh fucking, SKIRTS, tube tops (even if you got big mommy milker tits that can’t fit in them properly)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
mostly in bed but has so used remus’s prefect privileges to sneak into the prefect bathroom to fuck you on every surface in there and in the water
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
a lot of things. you in a skirt, seeing your body in any way, anytime you do something that jiggles any part of your body. just you in general, tbh
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
knife play, blood play or cnc. finds it uncomfortable and weird (sorry if this is your thing)
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
both. he likes getting sucked off but lives off of the sounds you make when his lips are around your clit. you taste so good to him and you are his girlbreakfast, girlbrunch, girllunch, girlsnack, girldinner, girlmidnight snack, girl3AMmunch
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
like I said earlier, it depends on how his or your day has gone. if you had a nice date, he’ll be sensual and romantic. if you’ve had a shit day and just want someone to fuck your hate for the world out of you, you won’t be waking for weeks
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
sex is sex to him. anytime he can hit it, he’ll hit it. even if he doesn’t get off, he just wants to be inside of you. it doesn’t matter if he only gets to feel your tight walls for two minutes or two hours, he’s taking whatever he can get
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
if you want to try something, he’s game. unless it’s something that will put you in danger, then he won’t do it. and he’ll only do anything that would hurt you (knife play and such) if you were desperate and he knew what he was doing
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
this man does not know the meaning of the word ‘tired’ when it comes to sex. he could come home absolutely hanging from a rough day and want nothing more than to sleep. but if you’re waiting for him to fuck you, he is wide awake like a motherfucker on crack cocaine
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he wouldn’t own any toys as he’s too confident in his own abilities, but if you had some or wanted to use some, he’d happily oblige. anything to make his baby happy
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
this man invented teasing. he is awful when it comes to teasing. if he had it his way, he would spend all night teasing you just to hear those pretty sounds and whines you make
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
he grunts and groans, y’know the usual. but one time, you asked him to whimper for you. he hated it but, god, he sounded beautiful
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
is obsessed with the idea of stuffing you full. with anything. his cock, his fingers, his tongue, a dildo, a vibrator, a plug. anything. sometimes, he just cockwarms you because he loves the idea of you being stuffed full. in addition to this, he once came in you and then plugged you up to make sure nothing spilt out
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
big. long. girthy. and he knows how to use it. this is one of the reasons he became such a whore; he knew he had a big dick and that came with a lot of confidence
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
he IS a whole sex drive. pedal to the metal, he always wants it. it’s part of his personality, part of his soul
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
once he’s cleaned you up, made sure you’re happy and tucked you into his arms, he falls asleep pretty quickly. he falls asleep quickly anyway, even without sex, so this is no different
my first post!! hope you guys enjoyed this one x
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neteyamsyawntu · 5 months
Text
Kinkmas Day 09
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X e n o p h i l i a
Neteyam x Human!Reader
✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.
Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, size difference, interspecies relationship, slight dub con, alcoholic intoxication, p in v, vulgar language, M and F fingering, alien genitalia (retractable penis)
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The music could be heard from outside the resistance’s lab as Neteyam approached. He had been a bit late to the holiday party, having needed to wrap up a few unfinished chores before heading over. Lo’ak, Spider, and Kiri had already been there since the start of the festivities, yet of course the person he was most excited to see was you, his adorable little human mate. You were always so positive and filled with life, never missing a beat when it came to lighting up a room with your presence. 
Making his way inside the lab, Neteyam was greeted with a dark room, filled with festive lights and decorations, a sight that was very out of the norm for the usual blandness of the lab’s typical fluorescent lighting. It took no time at all to spot you out, dancing and swaying to the music along side Kiri, who was the first to notice his arrival. He watched as Kiri tapped your shoulder before pointing in Neteyam’s direction. Your eyes immediately lit up upon seeing your mate, rushing toward him and nearly tripping over your own feet in the process, prompting Neteyam to meet you half way and catch you in his arms before you landed face first into the tile. “Ma’yawne you really must be more careful.” He scolds, raising his voice above the music so you were able to hear him. “Kxì ma’munxta~.” You mused excitedly, knowing how much Neteyam adored when you spoke to him in his mother tongue. 
“Kaltxì ma’tìyawn… nga rou lu.” He playfully scolds, crouching down to your level and pulling you between his legs to press his lips against your ear so he wouldn’t have to continue raising his voice. You gasp taking a step back as if he had made some profound accusation, but even you could tell you maybe have had a bit too much to drink. Kiri had known it too and scolded Lo’ak and Spider herself for pushing so much alcohol on you, walking up behind you to greet her brother. “I think your mate has had enough of the party, brother.” She says matter of factly, crossing her arms over her chest, mirroring that of a disappointed parent. 
There were no arguments there, your breath reeked of sky people liquor. He would’ve asked how you had even gotten to this state, but he didn’t even bother pursuing the idea when he noticed his skxawng brother and Spider trying to hide themselves in the back of the lab at the sight of his presence. With a rough groan and a shake of his head, Neteyam wastes little time scooping you into his arms, “Thank you for looking after her, sister. I’ll make sure she stays in her room for the rest of the night.” He says leaning toward Kiri, before making his way down the hall. At his words you immediately begin to squirm in his arms, trying to wriggle out of them, yet making little progress, “Noooo! Teyam you just got here- you should enjoy the party toooo.”, “It is alright yawne, you can tell me all about it later.”.
Carefully, Neteyam ducks under your doorframe after opening the door to your room, setting you down on the bed, as he began taking off your clothes to prepare you for sleep, starting with your shoes, “How are you feeling ma’yawntu?” He coos softly as not to overstimulate your already throbbing brain now that it was semi quiet. “I’m fiiine… a little dizzy, but I’m fine. We should go back out!” You beam, about to scoot over and slide off the bed past him, at least until Neteyam blocks your escape with his body, moving to remove your shirt, “That’s enough partying for tonight, Y/N. You need your rest.” He hums, trying to soothe your overactive senses, but of course it wouldn’t be that easy to subdue you in this state, “But you were hardly hereeee, you should enjoy it too!”. 
Neteyam raises his gaze to your own, as he slides the sleeping shirt you kept on your bed over your head, giving you a sympathetic look, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, but we can enjoy our time together now, okay?”. His voice rings so softly in your ears, it feels like just hearing it could turn your body into mush. A blush rises to your cheeks as your eyes lazily scan about his toned body. You can’t help, but bite your lip, shifting your hips upward as Neteyam removes your shorts with ease, being sure not to tug your panties down with them. “Are you going to help me sleep tonight?” You purr making a mental effort to articulate properly in order to give off the seductive tone you were trying to achieve. 
Neteyam brings his attention back to you as he sets your shorts down on the floor in a pile with the rest of your clothes, a slight chuckle leaving his lips at your obvious attempt at seduction, “Yes, I will stay with you tonight. I’ll make sure you have someone to hold your hair back incase you have an upset stomach.” He jokes, giving you a tooth grin as he stands to his full height in attempts to move onto your mattress, yet before he can fully commit to the action, your hand reaches up to grasp at the band of his tewng, a gentle giggle leaving your lips as he stares down at you with his head cocked to the side, “You know what the best remedy for getting me to sleep, right?” You purr giving the band of the garment a suggestive tug, already feeling your body responding to being eye level with his pelvis.
With a quite sigh Neteyam, cups your cheek in his large palm ever so gently, “My yawne… you need proper sleep tonight. I do not want you to over extend your body’s limits.”. A childish pout form on your lips as you give the garment a much rougher tug this time, actually succeeding in pulling his hips forward a bit, “Teyam pleeeease. I’ll be a good girl and sleep after I promise.” Your efforts of persuasion weren’t at their highest quality tonight, but still Neteyam had to admit to himself that the slurred presentation of your words was cute at the very least. “Yawne I…”, “Please Nete, I’ll be such a good girl.” Your words interrupt his train of thought as he lean into him, pressing your face right up against his pelvis, a sneaky hand slipping its way beneath his loincloth to allow your fingers to play at his slit. 
Neteyam had to swallow down a moan as he caught your heated gaze, nuzzling your face gently against his lower abdomen as you worked on coaxing out his cock from its hiding place. “Y/N…” he softly begs as a weak attempt to get you to stop, but he knew your touch felt way to good and to see you like this, all needy and vulnerable for him, made his better judgment faulter, feeling his body already reacting to your touch. “Haah! There it is.” You tease feeling the tip of his cock beginning to submerged between the slick folds of his slit. A rough somewhat disapproving growl at his own restraint leaves Neteyam as he quickly begins untying to strings of his loincloth, more than eager to be rid of the garment entirely. 
You giggle at his efforts and immediately attach your lips to his lower abdomen once the naked skin is revealed, leaving sloppy kisses along the surface, only further working to coax out your prize. You knew all the right tricks and tactics to get him going, even in your intoxicated state, you knew exactly how to get his body to react. Before long you pull away from his hips, allowing the full length of his cock to emerge, standing at full attention. It never ceased to blow you away, its tip a slight blueish/plum color, already leaking with a bioluminescent precum, while the shaft was littered in gorgeous tanhì, and then there were the ridges; one of the aspects you loved most about it and your cunt knew exactly how to take it, how to hug them tightly to make it even harder for him to pull out, forcing him to thrust into all the right spots over and over again until your body went limp with pleasure. 
“You are staring, yawne…” Neteyam hums giving you a somewhat cocky smile, “And when have I ever not stared?” You shoot back offering him your own flirtatious look. “Well would you prefer to stare, or would you rather I fuck you to sleep, hm? Surely you didn’t egg me on just to stare at it.”. At the invitation littered in his statement, you make quick work of scooting yourself back on the bed and shimmying your panties down your legs and tossing them off to the side, spreading yourself wide for him. You already knew the drill. Neteyam moved forward, placing his knee onto the bed as he leaned over you, pressing his lips to your forehead as he wasted no time plunging two of his fingers into your core. The moan that escaped you was loud and sinful, although thankfully you didn’t have to worry about being heard over the loud blaring of the music outside your door. 
“Tsk… Already so wet… has my little whore been needy for me today?” Neteyam coos against your hairline, sending a shiver down your spine. He had learned the word from you of course, but to hear him use it so casually in this context only made you want him more. “Y-yes.. haah please Nete, I want you inside me.” You plead, not bothering to hide the desperation in your voice now. “I already am inside you, yawne.”, “Not that… you know what I want.”. A rough chuckle rumbles against your skin before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, “But you are still so tight… Do you think you can handle it?”, his tone is a mix of teasing and genuine affection that makes your heart swoon as you nod frantically in response, “Please Nete… need you. Rutxe ma’muntxatan.”.
Your use of na’vi along with the utter desperation in your tone evokes a low growl from your mate as he carefully withdraws his fingers, pressing his lips hungrily to your own as he uses your arousal to lubricate his shaft. Coming off your lips with a loud smack of saliva, Neteyam shifts his palm to the underside of your knees, pushing them toward your ears, making sure to spread you extra wide for him as he begins pushing his cock into you. His movements are still cautious of course. No matter how desperate he gets, Neteyam never allows himself to fully lose his restraint with you; constantly making sure you are comfortable. Your head falls back onto the bed as your body squirms at the intrusion. It never mattered how many times you took him, every time felt like the first, yet the familiarity of the stretch held a sense of relief to it, a comfort. A sense that you belonged to someone both body and soul, bonded, even if it wasn’t through the traditional ways of the na’vi, you were his and he was yours.
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Tag list: @itchaboi-itchyboy @pandoraslxna @oakbuggy @plooto @xylianasblog @etherial-moon-blog @hikari-michiko @neteyamssyulang @blue-slxt @c-townes @loaksxhoe @xstarsdiary @neteyamswillow @akoyaxs @neteyxmsgirl @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @zafrinaxyz @neteyams-wh0re @neteyamyawne @kiri-tuk @beauitful-brown-skin-05 @akoyaxs @neteyamsstuff @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @ntymavtr @luvv4j4ybe11
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Text
most people
Tony Stark x F!Reader
Prompt: “i can't believe you don't like hugs."
Summary: you come home to the tower to hear that your teammate tony has been awake for days. you take it upon yourself to get to complete some much-needed self-care.
Warnings: fluff.
Word Count: 1,741
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The door sounded with a quiet, welcoming ding as the elevator arrived on your floor, the lights of your suite already on and pleasantly dimmed to accommodate to the tenderness of your eyes this late at night. It was a little before three in the morning, and while your flight had had no major issues and the traffic between the airport and Avengers Tower had been blessedly in your favor, it was still agonizing to be getting home so late.
Home.
It still surprised you how quickly you’d come to think of this place as more than just a place to sleep, more than what had originally felt like a ridiculously over-sized hotel room. It had been only six months since Loki’s attack on New York, and while the renovations to the Tower were not yet finished, your suite had been one of the first floors to be completed. And now it somehow felt far more familiar to you than any of the countless beds you had claimed over the last twenty-seven years.
“Welcome back, Ms. Y/L/N,” the cool, friendly voice of Tony’s personal assistant sounded from the invisible speakers above you. “I trust your journey was pleasant.”
“It was, for a nine-hour flight in a broken seat,” you replied with a sigh, stretching out the lingering kink in your lower back. You set your suitcase down by the elevator doors. “And how many times do I have to tell you; it’s just Y/N.”
“I’m sure only once more,” he replied. “As always.”
You chuckled, a small, tired smile lingering on your lips. “Are the others here?”
“Only Mr. Stark is in residence at the moment,” the A.I. informed you as you made your way further into your suite. You toed off your shoes, shedding your jacket and tossing it onto the nearby sofa. “Shall I inform him of your arrival?”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to wake him.”
There was a slight pause. “Mr. Stark is not asleep, Ms. Y/L/N.”
How an A.I. could have a variation in tone, you weren’t sure, but you stopped halfway to unbuttoning your jeans. “And how long exactly has Tony been awake?”
“…Almost eighty-three hours, ma’am.”
“I think I hate ‘ma’am’ even more than my last name.” you sighed, casting a glance towards the room to your left. The door was ajar, and you swore your bed was calling to you. “Where is he?”
“In the lab.”
“…Okay.”
***
A wall of sound greeted you as you stepped into the lab, and you flinched. It lowered immediately to a more bearable level, and you silently praised whatever part of JARVIS’ programming it was that could pick up on your discomfort like that.
“JARVIS,” Tony said without looking up from his work. “Don’t mess with my music.”
He was at the far end of the lab, moving between a couple of workbenches and the hologram of his latest designs with the disorganized, staccato rhythm you had begun to recognize as being a sign of sleep deprivation. There was a half-empty coffee pot on the bench closest to you, the scent of it gone stale. Tony’s clothes were rumpled, as was his hair, and you frowned when you noticed the shadows under his eyes. They were made darker by the blue light of the hologram between the two of you.
“I think we can do better on these reflector panels, J.,” he continued as though he hadn’t noticed you enter. “If this suit is going to work for stealth, I’m going to need the change to be instantaneous.” He waved a hand, and parts of the suit projected in front of him dropped away. “Scrap ‘em. Take it from the top.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hello to you, too, Stark.” you said snidely despite your concern. “Or am I expected to call you ‘sir’ in here, too?”
“Only if you want me to get all tingly over it,” he retorted teasingly, finally pausing long enough to meet your eye. He gave you a genuine, if distracted and exhausted, smile.
“Most people just say ‘welcome home’.”
Tony returned to one of the benches, eyes fixating on a tablet screen. “Are you implying that I could possibly be ‘most people’?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, sidestepping an abandoned helmet prototype. There was an empty coffee mug sitting inside it. The crockery was stained with dark brown rings. You made you way around to his workbench, pushing yourself up to sit on the edge of it beside him. “Tony, when was the last time you got some sleep?”
“You know the answer to that,” he said, pointedly avoiding your eye and focusing his gaze on the work in front of him. “Or did you come all the way down here just for a hug?”
“A hug? Hardly,” you said with a scoff.
Tony met your eye, raising a brow. There was a teasing tilt to his lips, a challenge in his expression. “I don’t accept that.”
���Accept what?”
“I can’t believe that you don’t like hugs.” he said, straightening. He moved to stand in front of you, his hands claiming your knees. You felt a warmth spread up from where he touched you to heat your belly, and you straightened slightly, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue. “I refuse to accept it. I mean, for a woman completely capable of breaking every bone in my body with her bare hands, you’re downright cuddly.”
As he said the last words he reached up and touched the tip of his finger to your nose tauntingly, and you wrinkled it in response. He chuckled, and you rolled your eyes at him. Something about sleep deprivation always made him lighter, more teasing. While his usual jokes were witty and occasionally flirty, when you found him like this, he was… softer. “Has anyone ever told you that you are a massive dork?”
Tony’s grin widened, and he stepped back, holding up his hands as though you’d just proved his point. “See, anyone else would call me an asshole, but you – sweet, innocent thing that you are – go with ‘dork’.”
“Oh, Stark. Trust me,” you snickered, pushing yourself up off the edge of the table. It closed much of the distance between the two of you, your chest almost meeting his. You made a show of casting your eyes down over him before meeting his eye with a smirk. “If you actually knew me, the last word you’d be using to describe me is ‘innocent’.”
Intrigue flashed in his eyes, a curve to his parted lips sending an unexpected thrill up your spine. He made move to speak, but you pressed a finger to his lips. His smile widened against your skin.
“I’m sure whatever you were about to say would have been rife with innuendo, Tony,” you said. “But honestly, you kind of stink. How long’s it been since you had a shower?”
***
“Y’know, I’m not really sure why I had to stick around for this.” you called out over the sound of rushing water, folding your arms over your chest. You were standing outside the penthouse bathroom, your back against the wall beside the door. Steam billowed out of the open doorway, clinging to your bare arms.
The water shut off, and Tony’s reply came a few moments later, his voice echoing off the tile. “And here I thought you were worried about my wellbeing, sweetheart.”
“You’re not exactly at risk of drowning in the shower, Tony,” you pointed out. You heard his answering chuckle and the sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing. There was a long silence, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of shaving cream being sprayed and a razor against skin. “And you survived it. So, can I go to bed now?”
“And miss out on this quality team-bonding time?” he called out. “Shudder to think.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a smile. “‘Team-bonding’? We’re missing a couple of key members here. Unless you’ve got Rogers stashed in your shower caddy.”
“Not exactly the member I’d pick for that,” he replied as he stepped through the doorway, wiping at his jaw with a towel. Another was slung securely around his hips. Rivulets of water marked his bare torso, droplets clinging to his chest. There was a teasing smirk on his lips, and you swallowed. “Now, Romanoff on the other hand—”
“I’m going to stop you there before this conversation devolves into casual misogyny,” you eye-rolled, holding up a hand.
“I’ll have you know I’m an equal opportunity lech.” Tony shot back, amused. “I just didn’t think Thor would fit in the caddy.”
You snorted a laugh.
“Right…” you said. He’d missed a tiny patch of shaving cream on the corner of his jaw, and you reached up to wipe it away with two fingers. Tony’s smile widened as you wiped it on his bare chest. You cleared your throat as you realized the intimacy of your actions. “Well, you’ve managed to navigate the perils of a penthouse bathroom, Iron Man. Congrats.”
“So, what’s your excuse now?”
Confusion creased the skin between your brows. “For what?”
Tony’s smirk twitched, and you recognized the challenge in his eyes. Something in the pit of your stomach fluttered. “For turning down a hug.”
You laughed, shaking your head disbelieving. “God, Stark, you are such a—”
Tony took hold of your arm, surprising you by pulling you toward him and bringing his lips to yours. They were soft and warm, teasing with the taste of spearmint. The clean scent of his body wash enveloped you, his fingers gentle but firm on your arm. The warmth of his body – still bolstered by the heat of the shower – leached into your skin, wrapping you in a ghost of an embrace that made you lean into him. The kiss lasted only a moment before he pulled back again, that expression of taunting flirtation still in place.
You pressed your lips together, your skin tingling. “What was that for?”
He shrugged a shoulder, tightening the towel around his waist. There was an annoying note of nonchalance in his expression, and self-assuredness that told you he knew exactly what kind of effect he’d just had on you. “Call it a thank you.”
“I—” you swallowed, forcing your breath to steady. “Most people just say ‘thank you’.”
He grinned, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Didn’t we agree that I’m not ‘most people’?”
.
.
.
tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @ccbsrms @lina-mar@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13@lol-you-thought@sebbystanlover-vk@mikariell95@csigeoblue@abrunettefangirlnerd@babyblues915@aar-journey@moistpotatobear @capsironunderoos @bellamyblakemorley@diesinspanishbcimhispanic@sentimentalalien@agustdowney@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@patheticallysentimental@loki-is-loved
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wito-chan-bla-bla · 5 months
Text
The first time
Your best friends are offering you a deal that you... can't refuse?
~
I can't write smut, so… yes… But I just wanted to write something like that, ah!..
~
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who suggest that you lose your virginity with them because "it's better with us than with an incomprehensible stranger in an alley."
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who pretend to be so confident and experienced that you start to believe they've already had sex. You agree, because they promise you a huge amount of pleasure and tenderness. "We promise, we will be affectionate and kind to you! Just let us give you ~l~o~v~e~."
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who have loved you for many years and even got into a fight over it once. They heard that you liked some guy, and they almost went crazy. You shared your first kiss with them, why not share your first time with them?
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who bring condoms and lube to your bedroom with them. (Just in case. They are going to give you so much fun that no additional measures will be needed). You look at the size on the package with doubt. "Do you know that 'L' means 'large'?" They both just stick their tongues out and wink at you, which you can only swallow at.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are confused and can't look at you once you are completely undressed. You think they're experienced, so you're no longer embarrassed or afraid, as you did once you entered your bedroom. You stand naked in front of them, your chest sticking out, waiting for them to take action.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who just can't budge. They always thought you were cute and pretty, but now? You are a goddess. They are not sure that they are ready to "desecrate" your body.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are about to leave because they feel ashamed of their own actions, but then you go over and kiss Suguru on the lips and start removing Satoru's clothes. They both freeze in shock before succumbing closer to you, to your warm skin and the gentle touch they've always dreamed of.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who become hard just from the fact that you lightly touched their cocks. Both of them have been dreaming about this for so long that they can now cum from any of your touch.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who don't let you please them. (And not only for the reasons described above). "This is your special day, baby." Satoru winks at you, trying to hide his own awkwardness, and Suguru silently buries his face in your neck, leaving a fleeting kiss.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who put you on the bed and freeze for a few seconds. They either admire your body or try to figure out what to do with you next. They are afraid that they will hurt you. Still, Suguru musters up his resolve and leaves fleeting kisses on your neck before slowly moving down to your chest. Satoru prefers to immediately lower his hand to feel your soft flesh and hardened nipple.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are ready to thank any people or non-humans for being in this situation. They worship your body, ask if everything is okay, kiss you, and make you think you're going to have sex with your boyfriend.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who spend so much time covering your neck with kisses and little possessive marks, gently nibbling your shoulders, complimenting your breasts, and finally playing with your nipples. Fingers slide between them, gently, slowly twisting and squeezing. The sorcerers just can't help but kiss them. But what about the taste? Satoru's teeth only cause a little pain when he nibbles on your nipples and slightly wrinkles his nose to hide his happiness. Suguru focuses on sucking on your nipples as if his life depends on it, his right hand pressing against your cheek and supporting your head so that you can lie down more comfortably.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who aren't quite sure what to do with the bottom of your body. You have to patiently explain what the labia, clitoris, and vagina are, and what to do with them all. Fortunately, boys learn quickly, so you'll soon be lying on your back again, enjoying a treat you never imagined.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are even now trying to fight for you. You have to shush them to stop them from breathing on your pussy and arguing, and they've already done something. In the end, Satoru leans in first and presses a careful kiss to your clit before licking the long way from the bottom of your labia to there. Suguru can only swallow his saliva and bend down to kiss your stomach and mumble that he just can't wait for his turn.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who still find a common language and come to a compromise. Satorus tongue is deep within you, exploring everything slowly and thoroughly. Blue eyes watch your every reaction, so as not to miss the moment when you will be particularly pleased. Satoru may forget mission tasks, but he will never forget where to press his fingers or tongue to make you moan. His big hands rest on your hips, preventing you from closing your legs even a little. Meanwhile, Suguru finds pleasure in sucking and licking your clit, his lips and tongue never leaving it. His dark eyes are also focused on your face, and he wouldn't be able to look away from you even if a gun was held to his forehead. The fingers of his left hand sometimes find themselves deep inside you, exploring everything along with Satoru`s tongue. His other hand plays with your left nipple. You can't refuse him when he gently and quietly asks you to touch another breast that has not received attention.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who almost earn a squint when you cum. They don't know where to look! On your face, on that shock in your eyes, when almost all your most intimate areas are aroused at the same time and so well? Or at your thighs twitching in Satoru's iron grip, the muscles clenching around his fingers, the clit that Suguru continues to cover with kisses? It's all so beautiful that they would love to take lots of photos and record videos, if only it weren't for the fact that they want you to be completely comfortable and trust them!
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who unwittingly overstimulate you because they are too interested. They want to know everything about you. They already know your birthday, favorite color, your favorite character from a video game, TV series, and anime, the name of your favorite toy, your favorite food, and much, much more. So what's the problem with finding out what they need to do with your beautiful body to make you cum so hard that the stars will appear in front of your eyes?
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who change to feel you fully. They whisper to each other how wonderful you taste, how wonderful you smell, how hard you squeeze on their fingers or tongue. They say you're a nice, sweet girl who does a great job with everything they give her. They murmur that one day they will make you their own, and you will bathe in love, pleasure and tenderness every day. These words aren't exactly meant for you, but you still get confused and try to hide from them. The sorcerers don't notice it at all, because they're too busy looking at the clear liquid that's all over your thighs.
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who are ready to go completely naked to fight and find out who will take your virginity. You have to stop them and tell them that it will be Suguru, because Satoru is literally shaking with anticipation and you are afraid that he will accidentally hurt you. And while Satoru tries to convince you that he will be gentle and careful with you, Suguru unpacks a fresh pack of condoms.
Best friend!Geto, who intertwines his fingers with your right hand, with the other he holds your left thigh, his cock is about to enter you. Suguru feels his heart beating fast somewhere at the level of his temples, he can't catch his breath, his heart is about to stop from happiness. He carefully moves his hips forward and watches in horror as you grimace. He wants to come out and apologize to you, but calms down and continues to push when you say that you are just a little unpleasant and unusual, but definitely not in pain.
Best friend!Gojo, who lies next to your side and holds your other hand, watching enviously as his friend's cock disappears into the place he's been dreaming of for months. However, Satoru can't complain because he's too busy massaging your clit with his left hand and whispering in your ear that everything will be fine. He showers you with sweet compliments and tells you that soon you will feel so much pleasure that you will forget about the pain. You've already cum as many times as you've never cum in a single week of your life, so you're not sure whether to be happy or tense.
Best friend!Geto, who freezes as soon as his cock is fully inside you. He leans down and covers your cheeks with kisses, gently wipes away the traces of tears (left over and just appeared), asks if you are feeling well. He kisses you as many times as he can before you tell him, during a brief pause, that he can move.
Best friend!Gojo, who watches all this with envy, but doesn't interfere. He refuses when you offer to touch his penis. He wants so much to be inside you, to experience warmth and comfort! Satoru continues to touch your clit, hold your hand, but now his mouth has found its home on your left breast.
Best friend!Geto, who is very embarrassed when he suddenly cums. It seems to him that he did not give you any pleasure at all! His hands tighten on your hip and press your hand into the mattress. Suguru opens his mouth and can only groan loudly, feeling waves of pleasure wash over him. He lands gently on your chest and exhales loudly, his cheeks and neck red, and his eyes can't see anything because of happy tears.
Best friend!Gojo, who gently pushes Suguru in the side because it's his turn. He puts on a condom and enters you easier and easier, there is no stiffness and an invisible barrier in the form of your uncertainty or discomfort. Satoru curses it and adores it at the same time. He can move his hips faster, push you harder and harder, but the problem is that he was rubbing against your side, watching Suguru fuck you, so now he can cum even faster than his friend!
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who lie down next to your sweaty, overexcited body and whisper that you did a great job. You want to go to sleep, but suddenly you feel their cocks getting hard again. You still offer to "lend a helping hand", but your friends refuse. They come up and tell you that they haven't satisfied you enough, so they'll have sex with you over and over and over again until they think you've had enough fun and cum enough times! After all, they are the strongest, so nothing is impossible for them!
Best friends!Gojo and Geto, who kiss you with all the tenderness and love that they have been hiding all this time. You're almost asleep when they whisper in your ear how much they love you.
Boyfriends!Gojo and Geto, who would like to kneel in front of you forever and call you "goddess" if only you would show them these cute faces showing how much you enjoy their touches, praises and words of love.
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xiaolanhua · 3 months
Note
your icons are soooooo so cute honestly!!! i wanted to ask if there's any way you can make a tutorial on how to make them? of course if you want, if you don't want to, that's okay :)
Hi! I really appreciate that you like my icons, thank you so much! 💖💖💖🥹
It's been a long time since I've done a tutorial so I hope I can explain it well haha
So I will explain how i go from the original picture and the final icon below:
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I'm using Adobe Photoshop 2024 but you can use other versions too!
First, I create a 250x250px document and apply a random color fill layer to be the background color of the icon, you can do it by going on Layer > New Layer Fill > Solid color (the color in this moment doesn't matter because I change them later according to the picture I choose to edit).
Then I place the picture I want, adjust the size to make the subject on the center and apply some smart sharpen:
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I apply some adjustments to try to color correct if the original picture using Levels, Selective Color and Color Balance to get something like this:
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If you want to know the exact adjustments settings I used on this picture you can download the psd here.
To remove the background, I do the hack where I go to the Properties panel (Window > Properties) and click on the "Remove background" option. It's not always that I will get a perfect result but I think it makes easier for me to adjust the little details such as hair and accessories, etc. And I do that using the Lasso tool (shortcut L).
Now, with the background removed I pick a color that I think will match the icon in the Color Fill layer that I created before. To make the background more "fun" I like to add a Gradient Fill layer (Layer > New Layer Fill > Gradient) with a color that might go well with the one I picked earlier to make a smooth and light gradient.
My result until now:
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Now it comes the fun: adding textures! I like to add some textures to make the icon more lively and I usually download them on deviantart or on resources websites. You can download some cool textures here, here and here. On this part I really test a lot of textures with different Layer blending. There are a lot of different blending options so you can try as much as you want.
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Other thing I like to do is add a clipping mask above the subject layer when I want to color something specific in my picture such as the hair, the clothes or even applying some "fake" blush on the cheeks. I do this adding a new layer, then using the shortcut option (or alt) + command (or ctrl) + g to make it a clipping mask and then using the Brush layer to color what I want. For the blending mode I usually use Soft Light and sometimes Color if I want the color to really stand out.
And in the end I will have something like this:
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And my layer tab will be like this:
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For using on the dashboard I usually resize it to 100x100 to make it look more sharper and defined but it's really a choice, you can already start making your icon using the size you want, I just prefer doing on 250x250px because i'm used to.
To save it I use the shortcut shift + option (alt) + command (ctrl) + s to save it for web with these settings:
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And that's it! Sorry for not going to deep in each step but I guess you can get the feeling when you try making your own icons! Is really about trying different methods and things until you became satisfied with your result.
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tasteofgummies · 1 year
Note
hi, can you make jotaro, gyro and joseph hcs with a slim thick fem reader? sorry for my english :l
Your english is okay! Don't apologize
Cw: suggestive 'cause they're perverts, but sfw
Jotaro Kujo
>I feel like he wouldn't care about what body type his s/o has, at all
>Likes that you are soft and he doesn't feel like he can break you at any moment
>Jotaro's body type is also thick, so he can relate to some struggles, like not finding the right size for clothing at stores
>Jotaro gets sexualized for just existing in his skin everyday, so if you ever need to talk about that stuff, he's there
>Loves cuddling with you and resting his head on your thighs or chest!!!
>Thinks you look absolutely beautiful when you wear something that compliments your body type, but probably gets possessive/protective in case someone else is staring at you
>Not above commiting aggravated assault in case someone catcalls you x1
>likes resting his head on your waist, he just reaches it so naturally
Gyro Zeppeli
>Horny bastard #1
>Shows you off like there's no tomorrow
>Has an arm on your waist at all times, but it's not as innocent as Jotaro
>Literally worships you
>"Bellezza mia, carissima, you just brighten up every room you step in"
>Pretty much shameless about his adoration for your body
>Definitely the type to keep a hand on your thigh under the table (not really with the intentions of public smut, just really likes to touch you)
>He's sharp, and just silently threats creeps in a way that won't make you feel too targeted or too scared
>He kinda uses you those anti stress toys?? I hc he uses his steel balls to stim, since he can't keep his hands still unless he's concentrated
>So yeah, your thighs, ass, chest, even arms and tummy are being constantly toyed with
>If you don't enjoy the attention, he'll tone it down, but only in public, in private he still wants to be close to you and embrace you
>He's horny but he still is careful to not make you feel dehumanized or used, he loves you so much! It's just that you're out there looking all gorgeous and expecting this man not to say anything about it?
Joseph Joestar
>Horny bastard #2
>He's honestly worse than Gyro
>"When babies cry, they get boobs in their mouth, but me? What about me? What if I need them?"
>(With your consent) will grope you whenever, wherever
>Affectionately slaps your ass when you walk by
>He dresses like a hoe, and will encourage you to do the same, he'll definitely buy you two matching outfits
>"Joseph, half my boobs are out in this top"
>"Gotta let them breathe!"
>Brags about you so much
>Makes a scene every times he catches someone eyeing you a bit too much
>(But will stop if you ask him)
>Excepting the creepy unwanted one, he tries to show you the power in being the hottest person in the room, showering in praise and attention
>Trouble finding clothes? He'll get a tailor for you
>Not above commiting aggravated assault in case someone catcalls you #2
>If he's being too much of a perv, just tell his mom, or worse, tell granny Erina, she'll have no issue in re-educating him in how to properly treat a lady
>He never thinks the things he does can be seen as him only being interested in your physical appearance, because he thrives off praise, so you will have to tell him if you do feel bad about it
>if it's something that truly affects you, he'll stop it all, he can find other ways to show his love for you
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shy-urban-hobbit · 10 days
Text
Lambert/Aiden modern au
The only thought running through Lambert's head as he barged into the house was shit, shit, shit...
He hadn't meant to fall asleep - having gone over to Aiden's with the sole intention of dinner and a movie before heading home - but the company combined with the comfy, worn sofa and the sound of rain falling outside had lulled them both into a doze...next thing he knew, the other was gently shaking him awake informing him it was 7A.M which left him with a grand total of thirty minutes to get home, shower, change clothes and get to work unless he wanted another lecture on tardiness from Vesemir.
"Whoop, walk of shame!" Eskel crowed from the kitchen table, "Spend the night at Aiden's?" Lambert stole his brother's toast in response, shoving it in his mouth before flipping him off.
"Accidentally. Both fell asleep." Lambert mumbled, swallowing down another bite of overly buttered breakfast before throwing it carelessly onto the kitchen counter to strip off his t-shirt and toss it through the open door to join the others in the laundry room, ignoring Vesemir's voice in his head yelling at him to put it in the hamper (what, he was in a hurry!), "...what?" He asked, suddenly noticing how his brother looked like he was trying not to laugh.
"Were you the first to fall asleep by any chance?"
"How the hell should I know...why?"
"No reason." Eskel said a little too innocently, smile growing.
"Eskel. Tell me now if he's drawn glasses on me in Sharpie or some shit."
"Not glasses, no."
Lambert charged upstairs to the bathroom, ignoring Eskel's laughter. Best friend turned (relatively new) boyfriend or not, if Aiden had drawn a dick on his face when he had to spend all day with his dad, Lambert wasn't above considering murder.
Well...it definitely wasn't a dick. Below his right eye was a roughly drawn heart, about the size of the pad of his thumb. Even seeing it back to front, Lambert was able to make out the small 'A+L' in its centre. He rolled his eyes, "Sappy fucker."
Aiden smirked as he read the text from Lambert,
'Thanks for that, asshole. Got a lecture from the old man about not looking 'professional. You owe me.' attached was a selfie of Lambert's grumpy face with an even grumpier looking, oblivious Vesemir in the background. The heart was mostly reduced to a faded black outline surrounded by various grease stains but it was still pretty visible against his boyfriend's pale skin. He took a sip of tea as he started to compose a reply.
Lambert waited until Vesemir had disappeared before fishing his phone out of his pocket and immediately feeling his cheeks heat up at Aiden's reply. It was a shirtless selfie, Aiden holding a Sharpie pen to his mouth, seemingly in the act of tapping it against his lips with the caption:
'Sorry Babe ❤️. Next time I'll mark you somewhere he definitely won't see it. Sharpie optional.'
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totowlff · 2 years
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monaco nights
➝ request: an one-shot where toto and reader have a discussion but he kind to her even if he is angry at her
➝ word count: 5,9k
➝ warnings: a lot of alcohol consumption, insinuated sexual harrassment
➝ author’s note: i know i promised this one-shot for the weekend, but unfortunately, my routine wore me out unexpectedly and i took some time to rest my head. however, that doesn't mean we can't start the week off right. hope you like it!
You closed the lip gloss tube and rubbed your lips together, the gloss spreading over the layer of nude lipstick you'd put on earlier. You stepped back from the bathroom mirror, checking your makeup, looking for any flaws in your work. Your eyeliner framed your gaze, as did your full lashes, while your cheekbones shimmered with the glow of the highlighter you’d applied.
“Perfect”, you thought, flashing a confident smile. You put the gloss back in your makeup bag and stashed the bag back in the bathroom cabinet. You left the bathroom, satisfied with your work. You weren’t a professional makeup artist, but you knew enough to make yourself feel beautiful without being flamboyant. It was contradictory, but it was apt — after all, it was the perfect description for the small town you lived in, sandwiched between the Mediterranean and the French Alps. 
“Glamorous, but small”, you thought as you walked toward the suite's king-size bed to pick up the small silver bag you’d chosen for the night.
Monaco has always fascinated you. Ever since you were little, it was amazing. Maybe it was the sea breeze swaying the sails of the boats moored in the marina, maybe it was the picturesque landscape that stretched out in front of the Palais des Princes de Monaco, or maybe it was the way the city came alive once Grand Prix season brough the races. It didn’t matter why, but it was your favorite place in the world.
In the last few months, Monaco has become even more special to you. 
You slid open a mirrored door and entered the walk-in closet, feeling for the light switch along the wall. As you turned on the lights, a small room filled with clothes appeared in front of you. Suits, pants, shirts, shoes, all meticulously arranged. As you passed the rows of dress shirts hanging up, you couldn’t resist running your fingertips along the fabric, where they were monogrammed just above the waist. Your eyes locked on one of the shirts and you ran your fingertips across the threads, feeling the three letters.
TCW.
The monogram stood for Torger Christian Wolff, or, simply “Toto”, as he’d introduced himself to you when you met him at the Grand Prix de Monaco Historique that had been held in Monte-Carlo in May.
You were a member of the organizing committee for the race, and worked for the Automobile Club de Monaco, so it was expected that you’d participate in that weekend’s activities. However, even outside of work, you had a passion for motorsport that meant that you followed everything closely, including the cars participating in the exhibition races and laps.
During one of your walks through the pit area, you found the team principal of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 team standing next to a red car with a familiar name painted on the bodywork.
— This is my favorite — you heard him say after a few seconds, as he stood beside you.
Lifting your face to look at Toto, you raised an eyebrow.
— Favorite car?
— Among the ones Niki drove? Yes.
— Any particular reason?
— Because it was his least favorite.
— Why? — you asked.
Toto's eyes met yours with a mischievous gleam.
— Because it was a shitbox.
You looked away at the car, a shy smile on your lips.
— You know you're talking about a Ferrari.
— Those are Niki’s words, not mine.
— I assume you agree with them, Mr. Wolff — you said, looking up at him again.
— I've always trusted my friend's judgment, miss, uh — he hesitated for a second, trying to read your name from the name tag around your neck.
— Y/L/N — you said, extending your hand to him — Y/N Y/L/N, I'm part of the event's organizing committee.
He shook your hand.
— It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.
To your surprise, the connection between you was almost immediate. There was something about those dark eyes and infectious smile that drew you in, like a moth drawn to flame, or metal to a magnet. 
In the end, falling in love with Toto Wolff was inevitable, as was your first kiss, shared outside of your apartment on a warm June night. Even more inevitable was agreeing to his request that you be his girlfriend, after he presented you with a black velvet box with a delicate ring — a promise ring — nestled inside.
Walking to the back of the closet, you bent down slightly to pick up a pair of shoes from one of the shelves. It was a pair of your shoes that you’d left at his house on the frequent occasions where you stayed over. He had already asked you to live with him in the sumptuous penthouse he owned across from Plage du Larvotto, but it was important to you that you still had your own place, at least for now. Your hesitance to move in with him resulted in each of you having space in the other’s wardrobes, bathrooms, and refrigerator shelves.
It could be simpler, you knew that, but something inside of you urged you to not rush things in the relationship, and moving in with him was a big step. 
You walked down the hallway leading to the living room with your strappy silver heels in one hand and your purse in the other. The penthouse was decorated in elegant shades of white, gray, and turquoise, and was tastefully appointed. Toto was sitting on the white sofa, reading something intently on his iPad — probably the Financial Times, or emails from Brackley about progress on the W14. 
You settled down on the couch next to him, putting your shoes on the floor to slip them on and buckle the clasp, one after another, in silence. You stood up, straightening the hem of your dress, as it had started to ride up a bit. 
— Mon chou? — Toto said, his tone laden with hesitation.
— Yeah? — you turned to face him.
A few seconds of silence later, your boyfriend asked the question you least expected to hear from him.
— Are you going out… Like that? — he asked, in a quiet voice.
Your gaze shifted from his face, down to your outfit. You’d put on a body-hugging navy blue satin dress. It clung to your curves, leaving little to the imagination. It wasn���t outrageously short or low-cut, but it was definitely sexy.
— Yes, I’d planned to — you replied, smiling awkwardly — Why?
Toto pressed his lips together, trying to consider his words carefully.
— Don't you think — he paused for a few seconds — That dress might cause you a bit of… Trouble?
The smile faded from your face.
— What do you mean, trouble?
— Well, I saw it riding up when you stood up, and…
— It only went up a little, no big deal — you said, grabbing your purse off of the couch. You opened it to check to make sure you had everything you needed.
— It wasn't just a little bit — he muttered, quietly.
You sighed, trying to contain your irritation. You definitely didn’t want to argue with your boyfriend about your choice in clothing. You realized that your cell phone wasn't in your purse and walked back to the bedroom to retrieve it.  When you returned, Toto was still looking at you. He looked uncomfortable.
— Mon chou, don't you think you'd better bring at least a coat?
— Why? — you asked, your irritation apparent in your voice — It's not cold out.
— Well, it might get cold later — he said — And I wouldn't want you to be so…
— Exposed? — you supplied, cutting him off.
— Yeah — he said, softly — Exposed.
You looked at him for a few seconds, wondering if he was joking. Toto never said anything about the clothes you wore — quite the contrary, he normally showered you with compliments. You weren’t sure what problem he could be having now, and you needed to find out.
— I've worn this dress before, though, and you didn't think I was overly exposed then — you said, glancing quickly at the time on your cell phone screen.
— Because we were together then, Y/N.
— You mean I can only wear this dress when I’m with you?  — you said, a little indignantly.
— No, that's not it…
— So, what is it?
Toto stared at you in silence.
— Come on, Toto, say something — you growled.
— You can wear whatever you want, I just think that dress is… It exposes you a bit too much, and considering where you're going and the fact that you'll be without male companionship, you'd be better off wearing something more conservative...
You shook your head.
— Are you hearing what you're saying?
— Y/N, I'm just thinking about your safety…
— My safety? — you said in a sneering tone — Since when do you care about my safety, Toto?
He got up from the couch, approaching you.
— From the moment I realized that I love you — he said, reaching for your hand. You pulled it out of his reach.
— If you really loved me, you would accept the way I dress without question.
— Y/N, I'm not questioning the way you dress, I'm just…
— You are, though — you exclaimed, annoyed.
— I just don't want anything to happen to you, Y/N — he said, frustration rising in his voice.
— Nothing will happen to me, Toto.
— What if something does? There's a lot of weird guys out there and I won't be around...
— As if you’d be able to do anything  — you spat.
— I'm not useless, Y/N.
— Well, neither am I. Just because I'm a woman doesn’t mean that I don't know how to defend myself.
He swallowed hard.
— Mon chou, please…
— Don't even start with that 'mon chou' thing, Torger! I'm not going to change my clothes just to please your controlling ass.
— I'm not being controlling! — he yelled.
— What do you call telling me to change, then? — you yelled back.
— I'm just trying to take care of you, Y/N! 
You laughed bitterly.
— Taking care of me? You call that taking care of me? Soon, you’ll be not allowing me to go out with my friends! Soon, you’ll be telling me that I can’t have a job outside of the home! Soon, you’ll have an issue with the fact that I have my own life! You’ll want me to just stay home, waiting for you to come back from your damned races and doing… Who knows what, or who else!
— You're not implying — he growled, stepping forward, his face inches from yours.
— I didn't imply anything, Torger — you said, sarcastically.
— Y/N…
— I just want to make it clear that if you want a woman to be as your trophy, who you can bring to your events to hang on your arm like a fucking doll, then you've picked the wrong woman.
— I don't want a doll...
— Oh, yes you do, I’ve seen it in your eyes that you do — you said in a low, almost teasing voice — But it’s not going to be me.
Toto was silent, clearly exercising a great deal of control so as to not lose his temper.
— You can control your companies, your staff, your kids, whatever the fuck, but you can’t control me, Torger Christian Wolff.
— I’m not trying to control you! — he yelled, gesticulating violently.
— Yes, you are! — you said, almost yelling again  — You want an ornament for you to put on your fucking arm and take to fucking FIA parties. You want a woman who will accept anything without question, who will be silent, who will do whatever you want...
— Fuck, Y/N, I'm your boyfriend! Not your owner! — he grumbled.
— I'm glad you realize that, Torger! — you yelled in his face — You don't own me and you never will!
He hesitated for a moment, putting a hand to his face.
— You know what? — Toto said, his voice terrifyingly serene — Do what you want, Y/N.
— Good! I will! — you yelled, going with heavy steps towards the door — You can’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do!
Toto didn't have a comeback, which you thought was a good sign you’d won the argument. However, as soon as you put your hand on the doorknob, you heard him say your name behind you. You resisted for a few seconds the urge to turn away, however, when he repeated your name, you looked at him.
Your eyes met for a moment, but whatever words he wanted to say to you got lost on their way to his lips. 
With an incredulous chuckle, you just muttered a single sentence.
— Don't wait up for me.
Slamming the penthouse door, you walked to the elevator, slamming your fist on the button. Taking a deep breath, you felt like crying, feeling the tears building up in your eyes. 
But you wouldn't give Toto the satisfaction, not tonight. “I'm going to have fun tonight”, you thought.
The walk to Jimmy'z didn’t really help calm you down. The click of your heels against the sidewalk, which would have normally been a comforting sound, was swallowed up by the sound of the engines of the luxury cars crossing Avenue Princesse Grace, as well as the conversations of tourists, and the wind that swayed the treetops in your path.
When you arrived at the entrance to the Monte-Carlo Bay Hotel complex, where the nightclub was located, you saw your friends Noémi, Carmen, and Marion waiting for your arrival. They all looked a little impatient. You smiled at them and  waved at them across the street. After crossing to the other side, you approached them and they immediately welcomed you with hugs and smiles.
— Finally, Y/N! — Marion said, tucking a lock of blond hair behind her ear — We were already thinking you'd managed to get lost in here.
— No, just had a — you hesitated for a few seconds — Mishap with the dress.
— Well, I’m glad you figured it out, because you look beautiful — Carmen said, a wide smile on her red lips.
— Thank you — you forced a smile, trying to disguise the mix of sadness and anger that a piece of clothing had put you through.
— Shall we go inside? — Noémi asked, putting a hand on your shoulder and the other on Marion's arm.
— Yes, let's go — you said, quickly.
The night passed in a blur through your eyes. Empty shot glasses from tequila shots were piling up on your table, glowing under the neon lights. There were also tall glasses from mojitos, margarita coupettes, and the glasses from the champagne you'd consumed inside the club, all to the sound of the lively conversation and rhythmic beats that came from the speakers.
However, you were not having a good time. You were sitting in front of that mess of glasses and shiny bags with your makeup smeared by the tears falling down your face. Your sobs were drowned out by the loud music, but those close to your table could hear them. Next to you, Carmen had her hands on your shoulders, attempting to comfort you, with little success.
— He was right, Carmen — you sobbed, your hands gripping your arms, crossed tightly over your body, as if you could protect yourself. You felt helplessness, anger, and guilt, all mixing in the pit of your stomach.
— Y/N, it’s not your fault — your friend spoke into your ear, bringing her thumb up to your cheek and wiping away a tear that was running down.
— I should have listened to him, I should have changed my dress — you said, the words dragging on your tongue. You had been drinking way more than you should have.
— No, that’s not it, Y/N — Carmen said, lifting your face — You have the right to wear what you want, as well as the right to be respected for it.
Your friend's words caused more tears to fall from your eyes. Carmen muttered something that was covered by the music and wrapped you in an awkward hug. With your head resting on her shoulder, you continued sobbing, tears dark from your makeup falling onto your friend's green dress. At that moment, you only wanted one thing.
— Toto — you mumbled against her shoulder.
— What? — she asked you, turning your face away from her shoulder.
— Toto — you repeated, between sobs — I want Toto.
— Okay, Y/N, I'll take you to him. I'll let the girls know we’re leaving and I’ll take you to his apartment, okay?
You nodded, sniffling, as Carmen got up from the table and disappeared into the crowd to find Marion and Noémi, enjoying themselves on the dancefloor. 
A few minutes later, she returned and, with a tap on your shoulder, signaled you to leave the nightclub.
The walk to Toto's penthouse was tortuous and slow. The alcohol in your body kept you from balancing in your high-heeled shoes. After nearly spraining your right ankle for what felt like the third time, you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, annoyed, and began to unbuckle your sandals.
— This fucking shoe — you muttered, throwing one of them to the ground. 
However, the other seemed to be stuck on your foot, making frustration grow inside your chest and causing tears to well up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you leaned your head back against the wall behind you, trying to calm down.
Carmen, realizing that you were having issues, bent down and unbuckled your sandal. She took the pair of shoes and grabbed your hand, urging you to follow her the few meters left between you and the entrance to Toto’s building. Trying to unlock the front door, you opened your bag and started looking for your key, but after fiddling around awkwardly in your purse for a few seconds, you huffed.
— Let me get it — your friend said, taking your purse and finding the keys in a matter of seconds. You were completely confused by the way she'd managed to find them so quickly and watched her open the entrance door.
— How? — you muttered, pointing to the key.
— Never mind — she said, placing your purse, key, and shoes in your hands — Do you want me to go upstairs or can you go it alone from here?
— I'll go alone — you replied, trying to organize everything she’d set in your hands.
— Alright, Y/N. Go upstairs, take a shower, take some aspirin, and go to sleep, okay?
— Okay — you said in a thin voice, walking robotically toward the elevator.
— Good night, Y/N — you heard Carmen say behind you, to which you responded with something that sounded more like a growl than words. You pressed the button and the doors instantly opened. You staggered into the elevator car, clumsily hitting  the top floor equivalent button, leaning your forehead against the polished metal wall, and closed your eyes. 
“Tonight was a mistake”, you thought.
After the elevator doors opened on the top floor, you walked slowly to the apartment door. You tried to put the key into the lock a few times before accidentally hitting the handle and finding it unlocked. 
You opened the door carelessly, you only remembered that you had told Toto not to wait up for you when you realized the lights in the house were off.
“Shit”, you said quietly, as you slowly closed the door. You set your things down carefully on the sideboard in the entranceway, trying not to make any noise, and staggered down the hall, guided through the darkness by a light coming from the living room. 
However, upon stepping into the living room, you found Toto awake and sitting next to the lamp — you hadn’t expected that.
— Y/N — he said, getting up quickly — Did something happen? I tried calling you all night, but you didn't answer.
— Yes — you replied, your voice a little choked by the lump growing in your throat — It happened.
Toto noticed that your makeup had run off from with your tears, leaving a gray path on your skin. He put his hands on your cheeks and stroked the marks gently with his thumb. 
— What happened?
— You were right — you muttered, staring into space. You didn't have the courage to look Toto in the eyes after everything you'd said to him hours before, especially after everything that had happened — There were a bunch of strange men at Jimmy'z today.
— Did they do something to you? Did they touch you?
— No, they just — you hesitated, the memory making you feel a little nauseous — They said things to me when I went to the bathroom.
— What did they say?
— They said that — you stopped again, the nausea growing stronger, your mouth filling with saliva. 
Before you knew it, you'd staggered into the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet, and started vomiting. You felt your abdominal muscles contract to expel everything in your stomach. 
Eventually, you stopped long enough to lift your head out of the bowl, panting from the effort your body had made to rid itself of the exorbitant amount of alcohol you'd been drinking, that you realized Toto was kneeling behind you, one hand holding your hair away from your face, the other one, rubbing your back.
— You didn't have to do that — you said quietly, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You flushed the toilet and sat on the bathroom floor, still unable to look Toto in the face. A mixture of guilt and shame was building up in your chest.
— Didn’t have to do what? — he asked, tucking a few strands of your hair carefully behind your ear.
— Well, this — you gestured with your hand between the toilet and your body.
— I'm just doing what I wish they had done for me last December.
You looked up at Toto and found him with a slight smile on his face.
— What happened in December? — you asked.
— Well, more or less, I drank way too much tequila during the constructors' title celebrations. After I ended up crowd surfing at the afterparty and losing my shirt, I spent a while clinging to the toilet in my hotel room, bringing up everything I’d drank that night.
Your lips curved into a shy smile.
— The hangover must have been awful.
— It was — he laughed, taking your hand — But yours will be worse if we don’t get you taken care of.
— What can we do? — you asked, looking at Toto's hand, his thumb lightly stroking your skin.
— Come with me — he said, rising up off the ground and helping you up with him.
Once you were both standing, he led you down the hall slowly, taking care for you to not trip over your own feet in the process. Once you were in the bedroom, you went straight to the ensuite bathroom, where Toto led you to the black quartz sink. 
Then, he turned you around and grabbed you by the waist, boosting you up to sit on the countertop. The contact of your warm skin against the cold stone countertop made you giggle.
— What's the matter? — he asked you.
— It's cold — you said, swinging your feet against the cabinet.
With a smile, he bent down and opened the cabinet right below you, looking for something.
— Where is it? — Toto muttered to himself — Oh, here.
He put your makeup bag on the countertop, unzipping it and rummaging through the contents, trying to find something.
— What are you looking for? — you asked.
— Those wipes you use to remove your makeup.
— Oh, it's in that bag — you said, absentmindedly.
Toto took a long breath.
That was definitely not the answer he needed.
To make the search easier, Toto began pulling out the makeup items from your bag. First came a gloss and a lipstick, then an eyeshadow kit, a stick highlighter and a liquid blush, and then it was the turn of foundation and compact powder. Then, a few seconds later, he set a small, slightly crumpled lilac packet down on top of the sink.
— Oh, that's it — you exclaimed, pointing to the package.
— These are the wipes? — Toto asked, taking the package in his hand and studying it.
— Yes — you replied, smiling.
Putting all of your makeup back in the case, he opened the package and took out a damp wipe. Then, folding it over, Toto approached you and started rubbing it on your face, the wet sensation making you flinch and laugh. Your reaction brought a small smile to his face.
— What's the problem?
— It tickles and it’s cold — you smiled, as he brought the wipe back to your face, in a new attempt to clean your skin. However, all he had to do was start wiping your cheek with a concentrated look that made you again, turning your face away from him.
— Y/N — he sighed.
— You look so cute when you’re concentrating — you said between giggles.
— You know what would make you look cute, mon chou? — Toto asked in a low voice, placing his hands on the sides of your thighs, a sly smile on his lips. The sight of him bending over you like that sent a wave of heat through your body toward your pussy.
— If I was naked, with you inside me — you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek, caressing it.
— No, Y/N — he said quietly — You'd look very cute sitting still for me so I can finish wiping your face. Can you do that for me?
You blinked, processing the response. You definitely weren't expecting that. Judging from the smug smile on Toto's face, he knew he'd taken you by surprise. You nodded and sat still long enough for him to finish.
Watching Toto's expression as he brushed the smudges of eyeliner and mascara off your cheeks, you felt something tighten in your chest. It was Saturday night, and instead of sleeping, he was taking care of you — cleaning off your makeup for you after a silly argument over a dress.
— Toto? — you said softly.
— Yes? — he muttered.
— Are you still mad at me?
He looked into your eyes for a few seconds, as if he was trying to carefully choose his words.
— Let's talk about it in the morning, Y/N — he replied, dropping the dirty makeup remover wipe that was in his hand on the sink and reaching for another to continue cleaning your face in silence.
— But, I want to talk about it now — you said, after a few seconds of hesitation.
— You're in no condition to have a conversation about it, Y/N.
— Yes, I am, Toto.
He lowered his hand from your face and looked at you seriously.
— Y/N, I'm not going to argue with you right now, I’m tired, and you’re drunk.
— Well, you know what they say, drunken words are sober thoughts — you muttered.
— After today, I'd rather you keep your thoughts to yourself.
His words hit you like a punch in the stomach. “He's still mad at me”, you thought, pressing your lips together. 
However, you couldn’t fault Toto for being upset with you, especially considering everything you'd said to him. 
Not only did you piss him off, you called him controlling, possessive, and insinuated that he cheated on you. Yet, he was there in front of you, cleaning your skin, touching you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
You had fucked up.
— I'm done — Toto said, picking up the dirty wipes and throwing them in the trash.
Silently, you slid your hips across the sink, settling on your feet in front of the counter. You turned to the mirror, finding your face immaculately clean, without a trace of makeup.
— Thanks — you said in a low voice, looking at Toto through the reflection.
— No problem — Toto muttered, exiting the bathroom and leaving you alone. You stared into your own gaze in the mirror, your throat tightening.
You had definitely fucked up.
Once you left the bathroom, you noticed one of Toto’s t-shirts on the bed. It was neatly folded, as if it was waiting for you. Running your fingers over the gray fabric, you hesitated for a few seconds, trying to figure out what it was sitting there for. It took you a few minutes to connect the dots.
— He got me a change of clothes — you muttered to yourself.
As you unzipped the zipper on the side of the dress, the blue satin sagged around your body, falling to your feet. You stripped down to your underwear — it was white lace, but it was comfortable enough to sleep in. You took the t-shirt off of the bed and pulled it over your head. You shoved it on unceremoniously and you were soon enveloped in the familiar scent that permeated the fabric.
As you dropped your body onto the bed, you felt your heart sink, guilt consuming you like a fire in the dry vegetation. It didn't take long for the tears to start running down your face again, falling onto the gray fabric. “Dumb, dumb, dumb”, you thought.
You heard footsteps echoing down the hall that made you look up with a sniffle, your hands quickly drying your cheeks. You tried to take a few breaths to try to stave off the tightness in your throat as you looked toward the door and saw Toto come in with a glass of water in one hand and a pill in the other.
— What’s that?
— Ibuprofen — he said, placing the pill in your hand — To help with the hangover.
You brought the pill to your tongue and took the glass of water, taking a generous swig. When you took the glass away from your lips, Toto already had his hand stretched out to you.
— Thanks —  you whispered, handing him the glass.
— No problem — he said, his cold tone piercing you like a stab wound.
Watching Toto walk towards the bedside table and put down your glass, you started to wonder if you should say anything. 
However, you knew that no matter what you said, it wouldn't be enough to really express what you felt, much less to assuage the anger he was feeling towards you.
“But if he's angry, why would he do all this?”, you wondered, as he went to the bathroom and turned off the light. 
His eyes met your and his serious mask dissolved almost instantly.
— Y/N? You are crying?
You hadn't even felt the tears running down your face again. You sniffled, trying to dry them quickly.
— No…
Toto approached you and bent down in front of you, hands resting on your knees. His expression was a silent request for you to open up to him and tell him what was bothering you. 
You'd seen that look many times.
— I'm a shitty person — you spluttered, more tears falling from your eyes.
— You're not a shitty person, Y/N — Toto said, his right thumb stroking your skin.
— How am I not, Toto? Did you hear the things I said to you?
He sighed.
— Yes, I did.
— Fuck. I said all that, left, pissed at you. Everything you were afraid of happening actually happened, and instead of you saying something like 'I told you so' or 'you deserved it', you just hold my hair back for me as I throw up in your nice bathroom — you continued — And then, you take off my makeup for me, give me medicine, and set out some clothes for me so I can sleep in your bed.
— Do you know why I did all of that, Y/N?
You shook your head.
— It was the same reason I wanted you to take at least a coat with you — Toto whispered, wiping a tear that was halfway down your cheek — Because I love you.
— Why?
— Why… Why do I love you?
— No. Why did you want me to take a coat?
— Do you remember the first time you wore that dress?
You nodded. The occasion stood out in your mind — it was at a party put on by IWC in Berlin over the past summer. It had been one of your first appearances with Toto, practically a public declaration of your relationship. That night, you had worn the dress with some other accessories. You thought you looked elegant and drop-dead sexy.
— I didn't tell you this, but during the party, while you were dancing, I saw some guys looking at you in a… Weird way. They were pointing at you and talking about you. It looked like they were planning something.
— Is that why you came to the dance floor with me?
— Exactly. Even though I was a disaster, I stayed with you to discourage them. Unfortunately this world is full of bad people and I didn't want to risk anything happening to you.
You sniffled.
— When you said you were going out in that dress, I got nervous. Obviously, you have the right to wear whatever you want and, by the way, you look stunning in it. But I was so afraid something would happen to you, and this time, I wouldn't be there to help you.
Your eyes focused on the movement of Toto's thumb against his skin. You didn't have the courage to look into his eyes.
— I found myself in a dilemma, Y/N. Either I could try to warn you, or I could say nothing and brood over everything that could happen because there are men out there who just don't know how to respect a woman wearing an outfit she likes. I decided to take a chance, thinking you would understand my concerns. But your reaction was, how should I say…
— Explosive? — you stammered.
— Yeah — he replied — I won't say I wasn't offended by what you said. It's not easy to hear the ones you love call you things you were pretty sure you weren't until that moment. Useless, controlling, possessive…
You pursed your lips. He had never been any of that.
— But the hardest thing to hear was the insinuation that I had already cheated on you.
Your eyes met his.
— Where did you get that idea from? — Toto asked.
— I grew up here, Toto. I always heard the stories of drivers who took advantage of the private parties to cheat on their partners. You remember what happened to Pérez this year…
He sighed.
— I spent all night wondering if I'd given you reason to distrust me, if I'd done something that planted a seed of doubt in your head. I've always tried to make it clear that you're the only woman I want — Toto said, drying off another tear — You are the love of my life, Y/N.
You brought your hand to his face, your thumb caressing his skin.
— I don't deserve you, Toto.
His lips curved into a shy smile.
— Yes, you do deserve me, mon chou. And I deserve you.
The silence stretched for a few seconds.
— Can you forgive me?
— Yes, Y/N — he answered you, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss on the palm — I forgive you.
You smiled a genuine smile for the first time that night.
— Will you lay down with me?
— Yes, Y/N — Toto said, standing from where he was kneeling.
You settled back into the king-sized bed, and watched Toto lie down beside you, sliding across the mattress towards you. You nestled your head against his chest, feeling him envelop you in a tight embrace. You were lulled into a light doze by the sound of his heartbeat. 
Some time later, you felt him press his nose to your head and sniff.
— You should have probably taken a shower, mon chou.
— Why? — you asked.
— You still smell like a nightclub — Toto muttered.
— Fuck you — you laughed, hugging him tighter.
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sluttyminghao · 2 years
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kinktober drabble ten: fae!minghao x fae!gn!reader
w.c.: 2.4k rating: 18+, smut minors dni warnings: minghao is a sex store worker, reader is naive, use of sex toys (vibrator, dildo), orgasm denial, use of restraints, minghao is a good salesman, mentions a hole but doesn't specify what hole a/n: I haven't written for a gender neutral reader in a while so let me know what you think! enjoy the next instalment of the series :)
taglist | masterlist
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The sun was beginning to rise over Everlasting Valley, pink and orange hues dancing over flower petals and bathing the town in the beautiful glow that had drawn you into the small town. You had only lived here for a few months, and you had loved every second. The fae community was small here, and very welcoming, so your decision to move here had been finalised extremely quickly.
Since moving, you hadn’t had a chance to explore a lot of the town due to the nature of you working almost around the clock. You only stopped to eat, shower and sleep for maybe a couple of hours, before repeating the cycle. It left you exhausted, but you had a lot of great benefits that came with the job, so you couldn't complain.
You had finally managed to snag a day off from your job, and you spent most of the morning doing chores and catching up on emails. One particular email caught your eye, for a new store that was opening up this afternoon on the main street. As you scrolled through the email, looking at the deals and products, you slowly realized that this wasn’t an ordinary clothing or shoe store, although it may have looked like that at first glance.
It was much more than just a regular store, and you had to go and check it out.
An hour after reviewing the email, you found yourself standing in front of the store, trying to will up the courage to walk inside. You hadn’t been this nervous since your friend had tried to set you up with a guy at a bar a couple of months back, who proceeded to spill his drink on you and gaslight you into paying for another drink for him.
Walking through the town, you got to observe the many activities that ran through the town. Fairies drinking coffee in cafes, wing alterations in a store a couple of doors down where your wings could be altered by colour, size or shape for a small price, and even a pet store with exotic pets you could only imagine.
From the outside, the store looked like any other store on the block. They held a magical, whimsical vibe that all the fairies and faes enjoyed going into. There was something…different about this store though, and you weren’t sure if it was the dull colouring of the building, in comparison to the bright, sparkly vibes of the others, or the deeply tinted windows, prohibiting you from peeking inside.
A surge of confidence sweeps through you and you straighten your back, press your clammy hands against your thighs to rid them of the sweat, and press the door open, the warm air immediately hitting you in the face. The smell of sandalwood and incense hits your nose, and it makes you relax and walk further into the store, a small bell above the door signifying to the owner that a customer had entered the store.
“Welcome to Hidden Treasures, is there anything I can help you find today?” A soft voice comes from further down in the store, and you take a few steps forward into the store in an attempt to locate the voice. You try to avoid looking at the dildos, vibrators, whips and god knows what else, and once you finally reach the counter, your eyes widen and a gasp escapes you.
A gorgeous man stands behind the counter, hair unnaturally coloured a bright red and quiffed up to the side. He had very light makeup on, a light smokey eye and a hint of lip tint on his full, plush lips. His clothing choices were…questionable but he was extremely attractive and that’s all that mattered to you.
And his wings were the most beautiful shade of forest green that held an iridescent shimmer when he moved and had gold accents weaving through the wings like veins. You had never seen anything like it before, he seemed like a one-in-a-billion type of man.
“I-” He smiles softly as you stutter and trip over your words, before simply pressing a finger to your lips to silence you. The warmth from his fingers sends tingles all over your body and heats you up in other regions as well.
“My name is Minghao, and you seem like you might need a bit of help, what if I took you on a personalized tour of the store and gave you all my favourite recommendations?” He raises an eyebrow at you and it sends your mind into overdrive. Without even thinking about it, you nod and he smirks, taking your hand in his and leading you behind the counter and into what looked like a storage room.
“Stay here for a minute, I’m gonna just lock the shop up and I’ll be right back,” he comments, jingling the keys in his hand and exiting the room. You stand awkwardly in the dimly lit room, intertwining your fingers together in hopes that Minghao will return soon. In the distance, you can hear the door lock and him shuffling around the store.
He returns a few moments later, arms full of toys and gadgets that you had completely skipped over on the way in. Your eyes widen at him when he lays them all out on a table neatly, some of his choices much more questionable than others. You almost choke on your own saliva when you see a dildo shaped like a tentacle that’s apparently 9 inches long and bright yellow in colour.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but why don’t you take a seat and let me run you through all the toys and you can tell me which ones you like,” he grins, a mischievous glint twinkling in his eyes. Your eyes scan the room for a chair and finally land on a small wooden one in the corner. It makes a horrible sound against the floor as you drag it to where Minghao stands, but you cautiously sit on the chair and fold your legs, foot tapping nervously.
Minghao observes you for a few moments, just drinking in your features. He eyes your wings, pale pink at the top that dwindles into a pretty baby blue, and pale yellow polka dots near the edges of the wings. Your cropped top and short shorts were a sight to see as well, not really covering anything. He smirks and leans over, his fingers dancing along your collarbone and watching as you shudder.
“You’re gorgeous, aren't you?” Minghao mumbles, turning away from you briefly to pick up his first toy to use on you. He doesn’t see the way you shift in the chair or the way your panties are beginning to get soaked. You can feel your heart begin to race again, and your wings twitch in excitement and nervousness.
He turns around and you notice rope in his hands, and your eyes widen. He smirks and walks towards you slowly, almost like a predator stalking his prey. “I just think this process will run a little smoother if you aren’t writhing and trying to get away,” he suggests, moving behind you and clasping your wrists gently. He takes your hands and winds the rope around your wrists, not too tight but tight enough that you can’t pull out of it easily.
“Do I get to have a safe word?” You ask shakily, head feeling fuzzy with lust. He turns to you with a concerned expression and kneels in front of you, placing both hands on your thighs. “Of course you do, I’m not a psychopath. You can choose whatever word you want,” he caresses the skin of your thigh gently and stares at you fondly.
You nod and take a few moments to think of a safe word while he finishes setting up, hearing all sorts of noises and hums of approval leaving his lips. 
“I think I want my word to be Pineapple,” you squeak out, and he turns to you with a soft smile and nods, confirming it on his end. He turns and shows you the object in his hand; a small bullet vibrator that is gold in colour. He runs it over any exposed skin, the cool metal makes you suck in a breath and you feel yourself getting excited at the thought of it sending you into bliss.
“So this is the Golden Bunny Bullet, it has 6 settings and is rechargeable. I recommend this for people who don’t get a lot of action or not a lot of time up their sleeves,” he comments, leaning down so that he’s kneeling in front of you and has a good look at you. You notice he has another toy on the floor next to him, but doesn't mention it yet so you don't question it.
Minghao tugs on your shirt and pulls it down, exposing your nipples to him. You can see his eyes darken slightly and it’s almost like a switch has flipped inside him. He turns the vibrator onto its lowest setting and runs it over your nipples, smirking when they begin to pebble and harden. 
With one hand, he keeps the vibrator on your nipples, and with the other, he skilfully gets you to lift yourself up and removes your shorts, flinging them onto the floor. Slowly, he moves the vibrator down until it’s resting near your hip bones, a smirk resting on his lips. With one quick movement, he is bringing the vibrator down to your panties and presses it against you softly.
Your body tenses and you let out a moan, before biting your lip to silence yourself. “Let your moans out, I wanna hear you,” Minghao’s voice has gone from smooth to rough, and dropped at least an octave, and it sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the heat building in your core from the approaching orgasm, and your legs twist around the legs of the chair, trying to ground yourself.
In an attempt to bring you over the edge sooner, Minghao takes one of your nipples in his mouth and begins to suck softly, teasing and licking at the nipple until you’re back is arching out. Your moans are a mixture of his name, pleas and lots of incoherent nonsense, and it’s making it almost impossible for Minghao to concentrate, especially when you sound like how angels would sound.
“Fuck…gonna cum,” your voice cracks and you can feel the knot in your belly getting tighter and tighter, threatening to break at any given moment. Minghao pulls the vibrator away from you right before the waves can crash over you, and you sob at the loss of contact. Your orgasm begins to fade away, and every inch of your body is throbbing with want.
“Easy there, darlin’, I wanna show you one more toy before I make you cum, okay?” He swipes away the tears on your cheeks that you hadn't realized had fallen. You sniffle and nod, while he grabs the toy from the floor and lubes it up. You can’t quite see it through your blurred vision, but you can tell it’s long and girthy, and pink in colour.
“This is the Demon Slayer 2000, it’s a vibrating dildo that has 4 settings and can plug into the wall for use whenever you like.” He explains although he knows you aren't really listening and you just want to cum.
“Please make me cum, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, just please, let me cum!” You shout, your voice shaky and your hole clenching around nothing. He raises a brow at you and kneels between your legs once more with the lubed-up toy in his hands, his wings fluttering behind him slowly in thought. 
“Anything?” He asks, and you nod while sobbing once more, wanting nothing more than to be filled up. He grins and places a soft peck on your jaw, moving your panties to the side and pressing the head of the dildo to your hole, watching as you relax and whimper at the sensation.
“A-anything!” you squeal as he presses the dildo into you slowly, and he immediately starts an agonizingly slow pace. With one click, he has the dildo turned onto the lowest vibration setting and you’re seeing stars immediately. Minghao watches with dark eyes as you try to fuck yourself on the dildo, your tied hands uselessly trying to grab at nothing.
He hums and turns the vibration setting up again, watching you cry out and writhe under his touch. You can feel everything in your body beginning to heat up again, your orgasm quickly approaching. While he wouldn’t say anything, this whole scenario has had him rock hard since he had you tied up, and he’s more than certain if you were paying close attention you’d be able to see how hard he was. 
“Alright, I want you to cum for me, cum over this dildo for me,” he speaks softly, focusing entirely on making you cum now. He can see your legs begin to shake and he takes it one step further and lets his lips latch to the inner side of your thigh and sucking a pretty hickey into the flesh. The feeling alone has you cumming hard, your vision going white.
You begin to come back to earth once you feel Minghao pulling the dildo out of you, your hole clenching around it as he does so. You can hear him mumbling under his breath, but your mind is still too scattered to comprehend it. He takes the time to clean you up, straighten your wings and untie you, before placing both toys into a bag and handing them to you.
“So, uh, this might be weird, but do you have an erection?” You point out his obvious boner, and he gets flustered. He tries to brush you off as he heads back out to the store and unlocks it, but you insist on trying to get an answer out of him. “Tell me! Did you get hard watching me cum?” You question, and his resolve finally breaks, eyes darkening again.
“Yes, I did. But there’s nothing I can do about it, I have to finish my work, so I will just go rub one out in the back later” he comments, shrugging as if it’s a regular occurrence. You shake your head and boldly move your hand to grip lightly at his bulge, his eyes widening while it’s now your turn to smirk.
“Well, you could always come back to my place and we could deal with it there,” you suggest, and his eyebrows raise before he’s grinning and walking outside the store, locking it and following you home. Maybe finding the email for the unknown store turned out to be a great idea after all.
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animasolaoriginal · 6 days
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(6) I n n o c e n c e L o s t
He finds her in a brothel of all places. A chance encounter, but one that will change his life – and hers – forever. – or: A story about a cowboy who falls in love with a prostitute, who happens to be so much more than that.
GENERAL TAGS: NSFW! Explicit! Size difference, age gap, slow burn romance. Cowboys, outlaws, prostitutes. Historical inaccuracy. Horses, guns, violence.
Chapter 1▫️2▫️3▫️4▫️5▫️6▫️7 ...
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Chapter 6: The Flight
m!OC x f!OC -- WORDS: 6.6k -- READ ON AO3
when a girl doesn't know what's going on
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Chapter 5 -- Chapter 7
6
His voice is low and quiet in the night, her mind fuzzy from sleep. “We gotta go.”
“What?” Her eyes fly open, her heart instantly hammering against her ribs. “Where? What do you mean?” She sits up, scrambles closer to him, gripping his thumb as his hand closes around hers.
He pulls her towards him, and then off the bed. He's fully dressed, while she feels the cold night air wafting over her naked body. She looks up at the large shadow in front of her, then looks around, sees the outlines of bags and pouches near the door. What's happening?
“Get dressed,” he tells her, gently holding her elbow as he watches her. “We have to hurry.” His words cause her to inhale sharply, even though there is no urgency in his voice. He's calm, surprisingly calm and patient with her, while she stands on shaking legs and wonders where left and right is, where anything is.
“I...” She looks around, wiping at her tired eyes. “My clothes are...” A memory hits her like a kick in the stomach. She gasps, pressing her free hand onto her belly, feels the slight ache, the bruise, the pain as the boot has hit her. “B-baths,” she stammers, her chest rising and falling faster, her lungs tightening. It is hard to breathe. The hand on her stomach moves up to between her breasts, clenches into a fist, urges the air to make it into her body, but she can only gasp, like a fish on land.
Ben's hands are on her upper arms, holding her as he leans closer to her. She looks up at him, helplessly, lips parted and trembling. The lines on his face are deep. He grabs her head, then pulls her against his warm chest, holds her tightly, squeezes the panic out of her. But it's only for a moment, and not nearly enough to dispel the shaking from her limbs.
He lets her go then, left to her own devices, the memory assaulting her spinning mind. Breathing is still hard, but she tries to focus on what he's doing. He rummages through the dresser, pulls out various clothes, inspects them, shakes his head, sighs, pulls out more. When he finally turns back to her, she's sunken to the edge of the bed, white-knuckling the sheets, forcing herself to breathe deeply.
He hands her some clothes, but she can barely lift her arms, let go of the bed, so he helps her dress. Gentle, his hands guiding her limbs, he pulls a thin, long-sleeved shirt over her head, carefully freeing her long hair once he's done, letting it cascade down her shoulders. The black shirt (a man's undershirt?) sits a little loose, but it covers her up completely. Rolling up the way too long sleeves, he watches her closely, and she looks back, focusing on his handsome face, the lines and creases, the beard, the shape of his lips.
When he's finished, he urges her to stand, and she does, then lifts her leg a little, one after the other, as he helps her into a pair of long-legged jeans. The waistband is wide and sits strangely high on her waist, bulging around her hips and loins. He huffs an amused little laugh and turns around, grabs a belt and snakes it through the loops, then pulls it tight around her, not too tight, but enough for it to stay above her hips. He knots the soft leather belt and tilts his head, looks down.
She does too. The pants legs are so long, she looks and feels like a child, too tiny to fit into any adult clothes. But she is an adult, isn't she? After the law? She doesn't feel like it. Ben crouches down in front of her, and she has to grab his broad shoulders to keep her balance as he starts rolling up the jeans legs until she can see her feet again. They bunch around her ankles in a thick roll.
He frowns at the sight, then sighs and unrolls them again, before he shifts on his knees and grabs a pair of scissors from the shelf behind him. Carefully cutting off the excess fabric, he nods to himself, while she watches him, still too sleepy to react, too afraid to move, too confused about what's going on. The cut hem of the jeans is rough, but it'll do.
He looks at her bare feet for a moment, mumbling: “We'll find you shoes somewhere... you gotta go without them for now...” She nods.
Finally, he stands back up, towering over her, she follows his movements, chin tilting up, eyes roaming his frame. She sees him packing the scissors into a small shoulder bag. His gaze is back on her, and he turns around to the clothes hanging from the shelf and grabs one of those button-ups, the thicker kind, it has a plaid pattern, and when he drapes it over her shoulders, slips her arms into it, it feels warm and soft. He leaves it open, unbuttoned.
“Ben?” she whispers when he's done dressing her. “What's going on?”
He looks at her, gently grabbing her small hand between his bigger ones, cradling it softly. “We have to leave. It's not safe here anymore,” he explains quietly, squeezing her hand carefully before letting go and walking towards the door.
“Is it... because of...” she stammers, watching him, gripping the wide hem of the shirt. “...what happened yesterday?” Her voice is barely audible, shaking badly, her heart throbs inside her throat, making it harder to breathe again. He looks back at her, clenching his jaw.
One stride of his long legs, and he's back in front of her, his hands grabbing her face with a force that makes her inhale sharply as he tilts her head up to meet his eyes. “You can't stay here, for multiple reasons,” he says quietly, his gaze hard, a deep crease between his thick eyebrows. “I'll explain everything later, okay? Now we really have to go.”
She stares at him, not understanding anything, but she nods into his hands, inhaling deeply, pushing the lump further down her throat by swallowing hard. Ben leans closer and presses his lips to her forehead, the warmth of his mouth, however short the touch is, leaves a pleasant feeling that slowly travels down her body.
He lets go of her and grabs the bags by the door, slinging the larger one over his shoulder before he hands a smaller one to her. She takes it, then snakes one arm through the strap and adjusts the bag hanging from her hip. Once all bags are somewhere on his body, he stops at the door, and she sees him clenching his jaw. He turns back to her and fishes something out of the front pocket of his jeans.
“Here, take this,” he says and grabs her hand, turns it palm up and places a small, long metal object on it. She frowns at it. “It's a switchblade,” he explains, taking it back to demonstrate to her what he means. His thumb pushes against the edge of the object, and it flips into a longer shape, a sharp blade snapping out of its body. A little gasp escapes her. “Just for emergencies.”
His eyes are on her as he pushes the blade back together, concealing the sharp edge, and puts it on her palm again. She stares at it, chewing on her lip, then nods. “Okay,” she whispers and slips the hidden blade into the pocket of her borrowed jeans. It feels heavy, making the pants sag a little, but the tight belt around her waist holds them up.
“Brave little girl,” he whispers suddenly, and when she looks up at him, he smiles down at her, a glint in his dark eyes. The faint hint of a dimple grazes his bearded cheek.
She feels the corners of her mouth twitching, but the moment is gone as soon as he grabs her hand and places his other one on the doorknob, unlocking it with swift fingers. There he hesitates. Nebbia watches him, his large hand warm around hers.
He looks towards the window then, his jaw working. When he lets go of her hand again, she frowns. He suddenly grabs the edges of the dresser half concealing the broken window pane and drags it over the old floorboards until it sits right in front of the door, locking them in. Her frown deepens. “What –”
With a little huff of a laugh, he grabs her wrist and pulls her towards him as he guides them towards the open window. She freezes as soon as she looks down. It's at least a ten foot drop, and the little awning below the window a slick, moss-covered ramp right into her doom. “No,” she gasps, sinking her fingernails into his arm.
He grabs her shoulders and turns her towards him. “I probably should have asked this sooner,” he mumbles before he bends down a little to meet her eye level. “Do you trust me?” he then asks, dark eyes looking at her in earnest, eyebrows raised a little.
She swallows hard, but there's no doubt in her mind. She's followed him here without hesitation, without second-guessing anything. Because it has felt right. “Yes,” she breathes. “I trust you...”
He straightens, exhaling loudly. “I don't know why you would do that, but I'm glad you do,” he says with a smirk. He squeezes her shoulder lightly, then steps past her. “I'll go first, you follow, okay?”
“O-okay,” she whispers, the mere idea of climbing out of a second-floor window into literal darkness causing shivers to rush through her small body.
And then the mountain of a man, laden with bags and pouches, squeezes himself through the open window, carefully stepping onto the little roof, leaning down to grab the edge with one hand, bending at the knees, before he takes a quick jump and vanishes into the night, out of sight, and only a soft thud is heard when he lands on the ground below.
“Come on,” she hears him hissing.
For a moment she is frozen in place, her limbs refusing to move, to follow, to jump down. She can already feel the vertigo in her mind, and she isn't even out of the window yet. And it's dark. How can her mind be afraid of this height when it can't even see the ground? Or is it because she can't see the ground that it assumes it's far deeper than it is?
“Nebbia!” His voice echoes quietly through the night and cuts through her frantic thoughts. Inhaling deeply, she lifts her leg and climbs over the low windowsill, white-knuckling the frame as she steps onto the roof. “It's easier if you sit down and slide,” Ben's voice comes through the haze inside her head.
She nods, even though he can't see her, and awkwardly squats down, her hands sliding down the old window frame, and when she feels something sharp cutting into her palm, she winces, lets go and shrieks quietly when she slides down a little, but her bare feet on the old metal panels catch her fall with a squeak. She feels her soles burning and her palm throbbing, hot blood pumping out of the cut. Trying to ignore the pain, she keeps going, inching closer to the edge in that strange crab-walk until she can see Ben standing just below her, his arms reaching towards her when he sees her.
“I'll catch you, come on,” he whispers.
She takes a shuddering breath and plops down fully, letting her legs dangle off the edge. Her hands grip around it, and the sudden sting rushing through her nerves helps in pushing her forward, literally. With a jolt she leans in, lets go and slips off the roof.
A shrill shriek escapes her as she falls freely for a fraction of a second before she feels Ben's large hands grab at her, holding her, and she lands against him with a thud, making him stumble backwards slightly. Her arms wrap around his neck as she clings to him, feet off the ground, body flat to his, heart thundering inside her chest.
He sets her down and pries her arms away from him, then hisses sharply through his teeth when he sees her bleeding hand. A grunt escapes him, but he doesn't say anything else as he holds her hand palm up in his larger one, fingers curled around it carefully, then pushes a hand into his pouch and grabs a roll of gauze, shoving it into her uninjured hand. She is still shaking from the jump, confused and in pain, but too numb to do anything, so she just watches him as he slides his hand into another bag and gets out a bottle of alcohol.
She frowns slightly when he uncorks it with his thumb and then takes a swig, the smell so familiar to her she inhales deeply, remembering the first time she's met him, a little over twenty-four hours ago. He holds the bottle to her, but she shakes her head, and he shrugs. “Put your hand on your mouth,” he tells her quietly, and she furrows her brows. “Come on, we don't have time, darling!”
Pressing her free hand to her mouth, she stares at him with wide eyes, unsure what's about to happen. He holds her injured hand tightly, then brings the alcohol closer to the deep cut. The pain throbs with every rapid heartbeat, blood gushing out in the same rhythm. She feels faint, can barely breathe through her nose. It gets worse when she feels a sudden sting, a horrible burning sensation, when Ben pours some of the liquid over her wound.
Her shriek is muffled by her hand, and she jerks her arm away, trying to break free from his grasp, but he keeps holding her hand until he's cleaned it. Her head is spinning, quiet sobs escaping her as the first tears burn their way down her cheeks. The pain subsides slowly, and she watches him wrapping the gauze around her hand, her breaths frantic and loud through her nose while she keeps her hand on her mouth.
He ties the ends together in a little bow, then cradles her hand between his larger ones, looking down at her. “Are you okay?”
She nods, slowly lowering her hand, taking deep breaths past her parted lips. “Th-thank you...”
“We haven't even left the camp yet,” he says with a sigh and a chuckle, shaking his head as he grabs her uninjured hand and gently pulls her along, pushing the half-empty bottle back into his bag as he walks. “This is going to be interesting...”
They sneak along the trees surrounding the camp, far away from the tents and wagons, keeping to the shadows. It's a moon-lit night, and she can see surprisingly far over the meadow ahead of them. He's headed for the large horse at the edge of the forest, but before they enter the little enclosure, he stops and drops her hand again.
“Stay close,” he whispers under his breath, and she nods, following him as he sneaks off towards a tent she hasn't noticed before. It holds all the saddles for the horses, halters, bridles and blankets, additional reins and stirrups, saddle bags and other horse riding equipment. He grabs a blanket, then a bridle and reins, throwing the leather straps over his shoulder, before he steps towards one of the bigger saddles that hang over long horizontal posts, and she remembers the horn she's clung to, and the slope of the seat, and how it's made her slip right between his legs, against his – “Come on!”
Clearing her throat softly, she bites her lip and follows him out of the tent as he carries the saddle along the edge of the meadow towards Thunder. The giant horse, a black shadow in the night, snorts quietly as they approach, and she watches with growing fascination how Ben throws the saddle onto his large back and expertly fixes it around the horse's body.
She wiggles her toes through the short grass of the meadow while he moves on to remove the halter from Thunder's long face to replace it with a different one. There's a little clanging sound as he pushes the metal bar of the bridle between the horse's teeth and then the rest of it over the animal's large ears, fiddling with the leather bands to make it fit perfectly. His long fingers move quick, like he's done this all his life – which he probably has. The big beast stands patiently, barely moving, and lets him work, and she keeps watching Ben as he ties the large bag and the blanket to the back of the saddle.
Once he's done, he pats the horse's neck affectionately, then moves his eyes towards her. His face is set, neutral, but a little dark, and he seems to listen to the noises of the night for a moment. It's very quiet, almost too quiet, the croaking of the frogs is muffled in the distance, the insects seem to take a chirping break, and only the wind rustles through the leaves of the nearby trees.
Then there's a different noise to their right, the snap of a branch, a little groan, leaves rustling. Ben's head snaps towards the sound, and she freezes, instinctively moving closer to him. His hand finds her waist almost as naturally. He doesn't seem to be too alarmed by it, though. Looking up at him, she sees him clenching his jaw, then meeting her gaze as he looks back. “Ready?” he whispers, and without knowing what for, she nods.
He grabs her waist, his big hands splayed along her sides, and lifts her up effortlessly, and while she holds her breath, trying to ignore the new wave of vertigo, she opens her legs mid-motion so she can sit down on the saddle with one leg on each side, the too-large jeans bunching slightly around her slim limbs. She grabs the horn, and only seconds later, Ben hoists himself up behind her, nudging his boots into the stirrups and moving his arms around her to grab the reins.
She settles between his thighs, scooting back against him, feeling his muscles flex when he spurs Thunder on, and the giant horse starts moving slowly, his hooves stomping quietly over the meadow as Ben guides him towards the edge of the forest where there's a little path leading through it. Out of camp.
Inhaling deeply, she white-knuckles the horn of the saddle, holding on desperately, even though she feels the sting of her wound through the bandage, wanting badly to hold onto Ben instead, but he rests his hands with the reins loosely on her hips, the touch warm, but not close enough, too casually, not nearly as comforting as his hand on her stomach, holding her against him. Now she has to squeeze her thighs around the horse to hold herself up and keep herself from falling off. And she already feels her legs trembling from exertion even though it has only been a few yards.
Thunder moves towards the path, and there Ben stops him with a short, gentle jolt of the reins. The horse snorts and bows his head, stomping his hooves idly. She turns her head to look over her shoulder at the big man behind her. He's tilting his head as he looks at something down in the grass. Following his gaze, she flinches when she realizes that there's a man sleeping on the ground, snoring slightly. Not the man, though, she thinks when a different face pops up in her memory, leering down at her angrily.
“That's how they got in,” Ben murmurs, and she wonders what he means. He inhales deeply, his chest moving against her back, before he fumbles with his bag and pulls out the open bottle of alcohol. He extends his arm and drops it to the man's side, it lands with a thud and falls over, spilling its contents in the dirt. “You didn't see anything, huh?” he mutters, and she sees him looking back towards the house.
When Thunder starts moving again, she grips onto his forearm, pulling it against her to steady herself. He shifts the reins into his other hand and slips his fingers over her stomach before he curls them around her waist, holding her gently against him. “Why did you leave the bottle?” she whispers as they start to traverse the narrow path through the trees.
“To be honest, I wanted to knock whoever was on guard duty tonight out with it, but that lazy bastard beat me to it, so why not leave the source for his heedlessness next to him, huh?” A deep, short laugh rumbles out of him and makes her body shake slightly as well.
“Ben, who got in?” she then asks quietly, pressing both of her hands to his forearm, feeling the muscles flex beneath his skin.
He sighs quietly. “Bad men,” he replies in a dark whisper, his thighs twitching when he spurs Thunder on to move quicker. The horse falls into a lazy trot, making them bounce slightly on the saddle. Her fingernails dig into his arm. “They were looking for –”
“Me?” she finishes in a little gasp.
“Yes,” he growls against her. “And me. That's how they've found us. Someone must have recognized me in the brothel, then put two and two together when you were gone the next morning. I was stupid,” he adds in a low hum. “I'm sorry, sweetheart.”
“Don't be, I'm glad you were, I mean, I'm glad you took me with you,” she says with a turn of her head when the wind picks up around them as the forest opens up to a wider field. The darkness is slightly denser around them now. “But I'm sorry I caused you... trouble... I... I'm sorry you had to leave your camp... for me...”
He leans closer, resting his chin on her shoulder, his rough cheek rubbing against her soft skin. “You didn't cause me any trouble, baby,” he breathes against her, tightening his grip around her middle. “We'll come back when the dust has settled.”
She shivers deeply, holding her breath as the warmth of his touch floods through her body. “S-so... where are we g-going?” she stammers, unable to move with how close he is. He keeps rubbing his face against hers, but then he leans back, the tickling sensation of his beard gone. She misses it already.
“Where our noses take us,” he says softly, brushing his lips against the back of her head before nuzzling his nose into her hair.
Another shudder crashes through her, and she nods, unable to do anything else. It's an adventure, she tells herself. Off to the unknown. At least I'm not alone...
More and more clouds push themselves in front of the moon, and suddenly the night is as dark as the last one has been, and she is once again sitting on this giant horse, flying through the darkness. Ben's grip around her is strong and comforting, and she would relax against him, if her legs weren't trembling so much from trying to hold onto Thunder's body. Somehow it has been easier to sit on him sideways, tucked between Ben's legs, instead of sitting like a man.
Also it hurts more, despite the warmth of the man behind her and his thighs caging her in. The constant up and down does weird things to her loins. Or it's the rough fabric of the jeans against her naked flesh. No underwear, remember? she thinks to herself, groaning quietly as she shifts on the saddle to find a more comfortable way of sitting.
And with the image of her naked body in mind, she suddenly realizes she has nothing, only the clothes on her body (which aren't even hers). She never owned anything, but it didn't matter, at least she's had a bed she could call her own, a constant in her life, a place to retreat.
But now she has nothing, and nothing lies ahead (or everything, if she wants to take the optimistic approach), the unknown is so much scarier than the uncertainty of which client would come to her room at night. At least it has always been the same job, the same expectations – well, before she's been promoted to full-time... whore, offering everything. Somehow she hates that word, but that is what she's been, isn't it?
The memory of Ben breaking the other man's nose because he has used that word comes back to her like the phantom pain of a boot against her stomach. She gasps, gripping Ben's arm tighter, shivering despite the many layers of clothes he's given her.
“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he says softly, leaning a little closer.
“Mhm,” she makes, biting her tongue. Her body aches at this point, her mind is spinning, every muscle tense. The rush of the horse's speed, the wind howling in her ears, her hair flapping around her, the tension in her stomach, the vertigo, the memories, the throbbing in her bandaged hand, the chafing between her legs, it's all too much, but she doesn't want to whine or complain. She never has, she's always taken life how it has come at her.
“We'll take a break soon,” he replies, gently squeezing her side. “Just a little longer, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers, inhaling deeply, trying to focus on his warmth, on his presence behind her, on his strong legs around hers, on his – She closes her eyes with a groan, the sudden arousal not helping the burning sensation in her loins.
She still wonders why she even feels like that, why she is so attracted to him. He is so much older, so much bigger, he's a criminal wanted by the law (a murderer), but he has been nice to her, so is that enough to feel this tingling sensation every time he touches her, holds her, leans against her?
He's also your mother's ex-lover, that voice in her head reminds her. And he's probably only nice to you because of that!
Her eyes flutter open (not that it makes much of a difference in the impenetrable blackness of the night around her), her hands mindlessly rubbing over his arm. He can't be, right? Just because I'm Keira's daughter?
You've spent two nights with him now, completely naked, and he's not tried anything, have you noticed? He doesn't see you the same way you see him. Deal with it.
She swallows hard, trying to ignore the nagging voice hurling more doubts and insecurities at her. She fails miserably. A heavy feeling settles in her stomach (just below where he's holding her against himself). I'm just a kid, she thinks. That's what I am to him, right? A little creature to protect from the world, nothing more.
And maybe that is enough. That's more than she's ever had. Someone to look after her, take care of her, like a... parent? She has no idea how mothers or fathers would act around their children, she's never met any. She's always only been around the other girls, the other women. And the men that came to her didn't share their family stories either, they were too busy coming down her throat.
But does she want him to be a parent to her? No, comes the quick answer. She wants something else, she wants more, she wants to be close to him, really close, not just sleeping naked in bed together, even closer. They've met in a brothel of all places, and her expectations have been high when he's whisked her away, but the more distance they put between themselves and the house, the less he seemed to think about doing anything like that to her.
Pity.
And she starts to think the hard and lengthy girth she's feeling pressing against her ass (rubbing against her with every bounce of the horse's movements) is just the natural state of his cock (which only makes her crave it even more because that is just impressive). She should probably stop thinking these thoughts and start behaving like a normal girl her age.
But what do normal eighteen-year-olds think about in these times? Isn't that also the marrying age, the starting to think about building a family age? Or does that come later? She's never met any girls or women discussing marriage, so she has no idea. Living in a brothel surely is like living in a bubble sometimes. Has been. She's no longer there and she doesn't plan to return. Not if she can help it.
Which makes her think about the conversation she overheard this morning and Ben's mention of the bad men getting into the camp to get her. Who is after her? She is just a girl, one of many, who would have an interest in retrieving her? She's had a few clients who've been very fond of her and her skills, but would they go to such lengths to get her back?
And who owns the brothel? She always thought it was Madam Claire's business, not some person in the shadows who pulls all the strings. It is all rather mysterious, and the longer she thinks about it, the harder it becomes to think of any possible answers. And frankly, even though her thoughts have distracted her a lot, she still feels her sore butt scraping over the saddle.
She shifts again, almost loosing her balance when Thunder makes a little extra step over a root or something. A shriek leaves her, and she clutches at Ben's arm in slight panic. She feels him tugging on the reins, and the horse slows a little, before he stops altogether, bowing his massive head, causing a jerk to go through Ben's arm. “Easy, boy,” he hums at the animal. Thunder snorts. She looks around the darkness. Why did he stop?
He doesn't say anything, instead he loosens his arm from around her waist, and suddenly both of his hands are on her sides, drifting lower until he basically cups her rear. She squeaks in surprise when he lifts her up, one hand pushing under her thigh to nudge her to raise her leg. He moves her like a doll again, and she lets him, and then she sits sideways, almost on his lap now, before she slips between his legs once more, but it is much more comfortable now.
“Better?” he whispers as he leans closer, his beard tickling her cheek.
“How did you –” she starts, turning her head to him even though she can barely see him in the dark.
“You kept rubbing against my groin, darling, and probably not on purpose, right?” he says with a chuckle. She feels her cheeks warming up, happy about the darkness now. “Or did you?”
She clears her throat. “Uh, I...”
“I also assume it must be rather uncomfortable having your legs so wide open all the time, hm?” he hums provocatively into her ear. She shivers, but then she turns slightly and hits his chest with the back of her hand, staring up at him.
“Well, I never had the chance to get used to it, you've whisked me away before I got more experience on that!” she replies with a pout, her cheeks burning from the grin she tries to suppress.
His laugh is both surprised and genuine. She feels his hands on her waist again, his thumbs pressing lightly into her skin. “You'll get plenty experience with me, don't worry,” he replies quietly, leaning down again until his cheek rubs against hers, the scraping sound sending goosebumps over her limbs. Something else, hot, burning, itching, gathers right between her legs. “We'll be riding for a long time, sweetheart.”
A little sound akin to a moan escapes her. Everything he says sounds wrong to her, not wrong wrong, just... not the way he probably means it, unless he does and wants to play with her, oh he wants to play with her alright, but it makes her feel both more aroused and slightly strange, uncomfortable? Not really, just... strange. She sucks in a sharp breath and turns back, away from him, trying to ignore the way he holds her, leans against her, how he's warm, and comfortable, and... hard.
He leans back with a chuckle, letting go of her waist to snake his arms around her, grabbing the reins once more while pulling her closer to him, before he urges Thunder to move again. The horse gives a loud whinny, then falls into slow steps that quickly turn into his breakneck speed again.
She clings to Ben's arm, trying to hold on, now with both of her legs on one side. It does feel better, the strain on her muscles easing slowly. While it looks so easy for Ben to sit on Thunder's broad back, for her, it has been like doing the splits. Without underwear, in much-too-big jeans chafing her sensitive skin.
So apparently small girls like her cannot sit like a man after all. Not that she minds, actually. Sitting like this feels a lot better.
His arm is hooked around her stomach, fingers curling under her thigh to hold her steady, and it feels safer this way, too. He's closer, her shoulder blade presses into his chest, his touch is warm and comforting. And she can even lean her head back against him. Oh so much better.
They ride like this for a while, and she feels her eyelids getting heavier. The last time she fell asleep on this horse, she's woken up in a dilapidated house, surrounded by strangers. Her first (and only) day at the camp has been quite nice, actually, except for the ending of it. She refuses to remember it, but the memories still come. Breathing deeply, she forces them away and tries to focus on the woman named Genevieve, Ginny, instead, who's given her nice clothes (that she had to leave behind), who's been seemingly very happy to meet her, who knew her mother as well...
Will she see her again? Ben's said they'll return, but when? When is the dust truly settled? And will she ever be safe in that camp again, if they do return? She doesn't feel like it. Being with Ben makes her feel safe, but he can't be with her all the time, how they've proven last night...
And the second he's left her, she's been –
An angry huff escapes her. She doesn't want to think back to being manhandled out of the tub, held on the ground, forced to endure while a random stranger tried to take her from behind. She shivers at the thought. And it almost happened, too. Her first time, taken like that, a horrible, horrible thought. Stop thinking about it then! her own voice yells at her inside her head.
She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, mindlessly rubbing Ben's arm as she holds onto him. He gives her thigh a gentle rub in return. “Almost there,” he whispers, his low voice vibrating through her body.
She nods, wondering how he can tell they're getting anywhere in this pitch-blackness. But then she notices the blue glow on the horizon, a thin strip of not-darkness creeping up the sky. Is it morning already? Probably not, but maybe it's coming closer. She looks around, noticing the shapes of trees around them on one side and a steep cliff face on the other, and straight ahead the land seems to open up more, there's more of that bluish glow, stretching all the way across the horizon.
Yet before she can focus on it, Ben turns the horse left, deeper into the forest. It's darker again, and the noises become more intense as Thunder slows down, the echo of his heavy hooves almost eerie in the dense space with all the critters scurrying out of the way, the insects chirping loudly, and the occasional howl of whatever animal lives close-by. Eventually he stops, and she squints ahead.
“We're here,” Ben says softly, slowly letting go of her and of the reins, resting his hands on his own thighs. She frowns.
It's a cabin, small, wooden, with boarded-up windows, a small porch and a roof that may be caving in at any moment. This man really seems to like the thrill of houses that are seconds away from collapsing.
“It's just for tonight,” he whispers as if reading her mind. She turns her head to him, but he already moves behind her, leaning up on the stirrup to swing his other leg over the horse's back, then jumps down with a thud of his heavy boots. Without hesitation he grabs her waist and lifts her off, and she's thankful he doesn't make her jump on her own.
She holds onto his forearms when her bare feet meet the rough forest floor, dead leaves and pine needles poking her soles. He steps back and fidgets with the bag attached to the saddle before he throws it over his shoulder, shoving the blanket into her arms as he passes her.
“Stay with Thunder,” he tells her, and she frowns as she watches him approach the old cabin, one hand on his gun holster. Her hand moves to the horse's long neck, patting him mindlessly, her fingers slipping through his long mane, while she waits for whatever comes next.
Ben gently nudges the door open with his boot, its rusty hinges squeaking in the silence of the night, before he steps past the dark threshold and vanishes out of sight. It's not silent at all, though. Nebbia feels as if every bush around them is rustling, as if all the animals of the forest are watching them.
She moves closer to the large horse, hoping he'll tell her in time if something wants to attack them. Ben's heavy footsteps are muffled inside the cabin, they stop occasionally, followed by a scraping sound as if he's moving furniture around. It takes him an awfully long time to make sure the house is unoccupied and safe.
When he finally returns, she has her arms wrapped around Thunder's large neck, savoring the horse's warmth, while she tries to keep her fears under control. Memories, the darkness, all her doubts, the nagging voices.
“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning over her to grab the reins and pull them over the horse's head. She shivers, lets go of the large animal and wraps her arms around the large man instead. He catches her with a surprised chuckle, one arm tight around her lower back as he picks her up off the ground slightly, balancing her on his hip while she lifts her legs and wraps them around him.
“Now I am,” she whispers into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like the child he probably thinks she is.
He gives a low huff, holds her close and carries her towards the cabin, pulling Thunder along. After attaching the reins to a pole next to the porch, giving the horse a reassuring pat on the neck, he then turns and enters the small house in the middle of the forest. Her eyes are closed by then as she gives into his warmth and strength, feeling safe and protected.
Chapter 5 -- Chapter 7
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End notes: Now I could go on a tangent about cleaning wounds or how I only have basic (read: no) knowledge of how to saddle a horse and what all the things are called, or anything about horseback riding really, but I'll just leave this chapter sitting here like this.
(Note to myself: Remember the switchblade and the wound!)
I hope you enjoyed it. The adventure begins. The tension grows. The next chapter will finally quench the slow burn a little, but that's all I'm gonna say. Stay tuned!
Picture credits to their respective owners. I don't own anything (except the screenshot of RDR2's Shady Belle). I gathered them from all around the Internet. If you see your picture and would like to have it removed, please tell me!
Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Friday!
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AO3 -- MASTERLIST -- INSPIRATION POSTS
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minheelovelee · 10 months
Note
Hey! Could you please write a Yewang NSFW A-Z? I would LOVE to read it 😩
Fo sho!
Warnings: nsfw under the cut.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
- he’s suuuuch a sweetheart. cuddles you into his chest and rubs your back. checks in on you and makes noodles w you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
- likes his shoulders a lot. You hold on to them and scratch them up real nice.
- lovesss your hands. holds them above your head too. and they’re so little he thinks it’s cute.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
- would die if you let him cum inside. otherwise he pulls out and finishes in your mouth. show him it on your tongue.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
- pulls you off to the bathroom to fuck more than you’d expect. no one would ever expect it from him.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
- zero experience. you gave him head and he was like WOAH lemme fuck pleek. he picks up on it pretty quickly.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
- likes missionary. also likes spooning from behind. you can hold onto him however you want in missionary.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
- not humorous. might tease you and laugh at you, but otherwise he keeps it serious.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
- I don’t think he cares to shave it all. he trims enough so you can tell that he at least tried.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
- he’s a romantic and might serenade you under moonlight.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
- doesn’t have a routine or anything. he’d rather do anything else.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
- size kink. likes how little you are compared to him. also likes to hear you and it makes his heart flutter. <3
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
- the bedroom probably. doesn’t mind the bathroom or the kitchen either. he knows it’s gross but can’t find the energy to care.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
- if you touch his thighs. he knows u want something from him then. or if you tug on his clothes and ask him to leave. he’s like 😏 k.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
- doesn’t like it messy. he likes to leave the place exactly how he found it. so nothing with fluids. ew.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
- gives really sensual head. always makes sure it’s not enough for you to finish without his permission.
- loves getting head. would never ever say no to it. even at the worst times. he’s like “u wanna suck me off? whatever. get under the desk.”
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
- pretty slow and sensual. can get rough is he’s really feeling himself. otherwise keeps it slow.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
- he’s open to it. it’s not his fave but if he can’t wait, then he doesn’t mind.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
- he can be risky. will fuck even if he knows there isn’t enough time. likes to push himself to see how far he can go.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
- 2 usually. he can make you feel good all night though.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
- he doesn’t own any. keeps it natural.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
- he’s such a tease. he’s a little mean, too. laugh at you and smiles when you struggle.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
- not that loud. but he’s not scared to moan or anything. if you ask him to be louder, then he will. moans in your ear when he finishes though. bites your shoulder to keep quiet.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
- fucks you on the couch then smiles when he sees people sitting there later. he thinks it’s FUNNY.
- if someone fucks with him, he’ll be like “oh yeah? well we fucked on that table last week. have fun with my skin cells.”
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
- average. 5in and some change.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
- he likes using sex as a form of stress relief. like 4 times a week he’ll come home and ask to f*ck.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
- he takes you into his arms and snuggles you for a while. likes to talk about random things and get a snacc. then he’ll wait for you to fall asleep first and close his eyes soon after.
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