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#you see the fog other the fields
gloriousmishaps · 9 months
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i love industrial scifi horror: alien, stray, the fear of being trapped, of knowing there’s something hidden in those loops + twists of rumbling pipework, of being unable to escape + understanding that this thing that’s hunting you can’t escape either; hearing clanking just past the fog and not being sure if it’s the machinery settling or something else entirely; trapped in a spaceship or a submersible or an underground city with a malevolent force but knowing it’s also trapped with you
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nyxxxatnite · 4 months
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Minor Malfunctions
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plot: Zed’s Z-Band decides to send him into an odd frenzy
pairing(s): Zed Necrodopolis x afab!cheerleader!reader
warning(s): 18+, SMUT SO SMUTTY, this might be shitty im sorry, doggy style, (slight) non-con, frenzy!Zed, sort of in heat style?, biting, sorta breeding????, public sex, p in v, no protection (WRAP IT PEOPLE), CHARACTERS ARE 18 AND ARE SENIORS
a/n: YALL IM SO TIRED OF THERE NOT BEING SMUT FOR ZED PLUS I NEEDED THIS TO BE OUT IN THE WORLD!
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this could not be happening to him. The loud beeping filled his ear drums as he stared at his watch. He accidentally had knocked a drink over onto his watch and somehow it had made it freak out. He was trying to go to school as fast as he could to see if Eliza could help in any way, slowly but surely his mind was starting to fuzz up and he was losing any sense of control.
the sound of cheers could be heard from the football field outside of Seabrook High, the familiar sound of his girlfriends voice louder than any of the other cheerleaders was ringing in his ears. And just like that any of the control he had built up was out the window. His body was overly hot and his mouth felt dry. But this was different from his usual zombie frenzies. He wasn’t thirsting for flesh, or any sort of human anything…well. That was a lie. His body was aching all over and he felt a sudden tightness in his black jeans. Was this frenzy…making him aroused?
he let out a low growl as he skulked onto the field, watching the cheer team disperse leaving his familiar love alone. The closer he got the more he could smell her, and the worse the heat felt surrounding him. The shorter girl heard the footsteps and spun around, making immediately eye contact with the zombie teen. Her bright smile would usually cause him to smile as well but with his frenzy in action he only gave a snarl.
“Zed! I thought you had gone home….hey, are you feeling okay,” her question seemed to go unheard as he reached her.
His arms shot out and grabbed ahold of her, yanking her into his chest roughy as he buried his face into her neck. For a few brief seconds he just smelt her, feeling his mouth started to salivate from her delicious scent. Every fiber of his being was crying out to taste her fully, to put her into his mouth.
“zed, you’re kind of scaring me right now,” she let out a whimper as Zed pressed against her more.
his mouth opened and latched onto her skin, listening to the sharp intake she took. She tasted so delicious, like a batch of cookies…if they had been outside cheerleading and had been spritzed with sweetpea perfume. He gave a groan as he started to leave open mouth kisses along her neck, listening to her let out shaky moans. She tried to push him away to fully look a him but he swatted her hands away and held her tight to his chest.
It was only a few minutes of him marking her up, took entranced by her taste but the brain fog cleared just enough for him to slide his hands up her uniform shirt, listening to her squeak as his cold fingers brushed along her soft skin. His fingers brushed along each of her ribs before grabbing ahold of her breasts, groaning as he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra at all. She flinched away a bit which caused him to let out an angry growl. He pulled his face back and, with the strength given to him by the frenzy, ripped her cheer top clean down the middle.
The girl went to complain but was knocked speechless as she was taken down to the ground. Her breath was gone but only for a second as Zed pulled her cheer skirt up her thighs to pool around her hips and then ripped both her underwear cover and her panties themselves off her body leaving her practically naked to him.
the panic began to set in as she realized they were out in the middle of a field at school. She had prayed to whatever was up there that no one would come out and catch her with her zombie boyfriend between her legs. Between her legs??? When did he get there? It didn’t matter now, as his hands were moving her legs up a bit to rest on her chest and his face was being buried into her pussy lips. A cry of pleasure and surprise erupted from her chest as her head flew back and hit the ground of the field. Her fingers gripped the grass roughly, trying to keep her grounded as slurping sounds came from the zombie teen. He was slurping her like she was his favorite drink and fuck did it make her even more aroused.
his tongue was poking and prodding at her entrance, carefully lapping up her slick and thrusting deep into the tight cavern. He could already feel his chin become soaked from her arousal, but he didn’t care. She tasted so good and he was fucking starving. He carefully moved to wrap his mouth around her clit and sucked carefully on it, letting his tongue roll figure eights onto the bundle of nerves which caused her whimpers to turn into high pitched moans.
she could already feel herself getting closer to the edge, her eyes crossing a bit as she prepared for the delicious feeling to finally crash over her. But it never came. She moved a bit to look at her boyfriend, to complain that she was almost there but was left speechless as he was pulling his pale hard on from the confines of his skinny jeans. She’d seen it before but each time still surprised her. How could he be that big?
With a swift push she was spun to her hands and knees, her ass being yanked back to him. The knowledge of their location had popped back into her brain and she turned her head to look at him again, “Zed, wait please what if someone-.”
a loud moan erupted from her throat again as Zed pushed into her entrance, her fingers wrapping up in the grass again as he gave no time to adjust as he fully sheathed himself inside her tight cunt. Her head fell forward a bit as she tried to relax herself but Zed had no intentions of letting her relax. He grabbed ahold of her hips in a bruising vice as he started to bring his hips back, only to slam right back into her. And he didn’t stop there. His pace he had set was unforgiving.
the sound of skin on skin was loud on the field, along with the cheerleaders cries of pleasure and shouts of the football captains name. Loud growls were emitting from the zombie teen himself, the need to fill her full of his cum was almost too much to bare. With a push, the cheerleaders face was pressed harshly into the grass and the new found angle had her squeezing tight around her sex crazed boyfriend. The feel of his cock bruising her cervix was started to build up that knot in stomach again and she was so ready for it.
she reached back for her boyfriend and slapped her hand against his arm, her loud sobs of carnal pleasure were fueling both his ego and his frenzy and he could feel himself twitch inside of her. The thought of finally being able to fill her made him let out a animalistic growl and his hips started to fuck even faster into her.
and thats all it took as the cheerleader let out a scream of his name, her cum splashing back against his raging cock sent the zombie himself to orbit. With a few final harsh thrusts he was burying himself deep into her and spilling his seed into her womb. And as her hand fell from his arm, it carefully brushed the z-band and somehow zapped it back to normal.
Zed went back and flopped onto the ground behind him, his chest heaving a bit as he tried to gather himself. And after a beat he shot up again and scrambled to his fucked out girlfriend, eyes wide with concern, “baby. Holy shit i’m so sorry.”
the girl gave a soft whine as she wad picked up and cradled in his arms, shivers running down her spine as she realized her boyfriend was normal again. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, relaxing a bit. “Fucking hell, Zed. What was that?”
He gave an awkward chuckle as he reached to her cheer bag that had been strewn away as he had attacked her earlier. He carefully pulled out the extra leggings she had and tugged them onto her as well as his jersey she also had stashed inside, “i accidentally spilt some juice on it earlier and it went on the fritz. But that frenzy…fuck i don’t know where it came from.”
she stood up on shaky legs following her boyfriend and gripped onto his arms, listening to him chuckle at her shakiness. “Well, whatever it was…it was kind of hot.”
Zed felt his body tense a bit at the his girlfriends new kink discovery and sighed, knowing damn well he’d have to pull it out more.
“you better pay to get me a new uniform, Necrodopolis,” she snapped as she picked up her shredded uniform.
it was worth it, right?
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bloodcasket · 5 months
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“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ゚☾
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PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!
WORD COUNT: 7.4K+
DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.
AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.
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The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.
They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.
It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.
A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.
It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.
Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.
The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.
It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.
It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.
“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.
The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.
Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.
Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.
‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.
“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.
“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.
Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.
Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.
Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.
You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.
To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?
Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.
“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.
Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.
Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.
Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.
One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.
“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.
Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.
She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.
You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.
Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two…maybe three).
You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.
Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.
You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.
‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.
“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”
An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.
“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.
“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.
The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.
You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.
“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.
“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.
“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.
“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.
“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.
“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.
“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.
“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.
Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.
“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.
‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’
Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.
The ride to her apartment.
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Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.
You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.
The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.
After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.
She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.
With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.
“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.
“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.
She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.
“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.
She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.
“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.
You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.
Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.
What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.
“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.
“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.
“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.
“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.
“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.
“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”
The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.
Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.
“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”
Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.
“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.
Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.
“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”
You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.
“No, I”-
Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.
“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.
She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.
Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.
“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.
You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.
“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”
The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.
The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.
Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.
“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”
But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”
And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.
With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.
Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.
Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.
Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.
“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.
She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.
“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.
You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.
“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.
“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.
She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.
“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.
A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.
Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.
“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”
“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.
“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.
But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.
“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.
“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.
You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.
“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.
Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.
“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.
Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.
“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”
She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.
“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.
The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.
A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.
“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”
As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.
Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.
“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”
Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.
Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.
The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.
“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.
“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.
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getodrools · 3 months
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𐙚 HARD HATS: TOJI FUSHIGURO!
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IN WHICH, you spot a construction worker! toji who was working hard, and you think it'll be a good idea to bring some refreshments for him and his crew…
I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! reader. hcs and pov. modern au. public sex: he fucks reader in his big machinery/at night. size difference. riding (for like one sentence). cervix fucking. belly bulge. creampie. | WC –> 0.8k+ est ! !
NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p
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⟡ | CONSTRUCTION WORKER! TOJI who hears a gentle voice calling out in his field; a soft call of, “any fresh lemonade, gentleman? you've all been working mighty hard.” and the delicate tone enveloping through each ear and strumming through his bones fluttered at his heart…
⟡ | CONSTRUCTION WORKER! TOJI who connects the sweet voice to a pretty face – jumping down from his heavy machinery and jogging over through trenches to greet himself; though dusted hands and muddy boots make your nose crinkle, you smile happily watching the exhausted men kindly take a cold glass of freshly made lemonade—especially one in particular…
⟡ | CONSTRUCTION WORKER! TOJI who lingers closely, waiting for the rest of his men say their thanks and get back to work—waiting for the chance to spark up some small talk with you...
⟡ | CONSTRUCTION WORKER! TOJI who mostly flirts. trying hard to see that pretty smile of yours spark up as he acted like flexing his muscles and stretching in the middle of a convo wasn't going to make your breathing hitch, ogling at fine muscles stacked and sweating, almost like a glazed donut…
⟡ | CONSTRUCTION WORKER! TOJI who just couldn't stop complimenting you until you were wrapped around his finger. the slick bastard knowing every way to make women more than impressed and shy out – using that grime and muck on his thick muscles as a distraction—even flaunting on about how much he has to work under the beaming sun, especially in such big equipment. but being blessed by such a kind soul truly makes his day refreshingly better…
⟡ | CONSTRUCTION WORKER! TOJI who notices the flush on your face as he points around what he works on and what heavy things he could carry around so effortlessly. though, the battered look in your eyes twinkling up at his machinery swarmed vigorous thoughts into his head, leading to making a sneaky, little promise to bring you up into it later that night—promising to teach you and let you ride it...
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“oh! fuck!—” the wet rhythmic sounds of your hips bouncing against his was the only noise echoing off from heavy machinery in toji’s work field – and the pornographic squelch your pussy sucks him in at each tender roll, toji could've sworn he was still “working”; loud fleeting moans replacing the machinery, sweat dribbling down the nape of his neck to his chest as if the sun was still beaming down on him, and trying hard to keep up with your little needs like his ordering boss.
your knees dig into the buckle to the excavator till toji planted firm and barred hands to your sides. taking your body with ease and rolling you over onto your back a yelp dribbles out when playful hands land on the fogging windows as the other pulls his neck in, legs even spread wide and crossing over the dash and around the working man's waist.
being in such a small and tight position—being folded like some paper, creates an obvious belly bulge from toji’s thick cock barreling into your sopping cunt. it was prominent too. how it moves deeply with each snap of his hips – his flush tip even jabbing at your perk cervix.
“fuck-- i feel it—ah! s’ so d-deep.” the strong clutch you have on his forearms was enough to leave the skin red with an imprint, but toji didn't mind. the filthy man fancied this more than the lingering scrapes from fallen debris.
“yeah, right here? feel it-- right there.” that slick bastard.
you try hard to swallow the lump in your throat, feeling toji press a callused hand to your tummy—hard too, enough force to feel himself fucking you raw.
the foreign feel made the sauntering man audibly groan out, head to dip low between the sweet curvature of your neck; the sensation of his length stuffing you full ‘till his cock throbbed in your tight walls made toji’s muddy boots kick back into the leather seat.
settling himself to jackhammer even deeper.
your nails rake into his broad back—leaving raw trails of red lying in their wake as spews of babbles of improper sentences fall from your drool-filled mouth. incoherent, but toji could tell you were screaming for your high. and he swallows up your moans as he hits that soft spot till you shook beneath him—’till you spill over sloppy tongue kisses against his sharp jaw and milk a creamy ring around the base of his cock.
toji twitches inside of you. spongy walls spasm around him – practically sucking him in deeper that forces toji to press the rest of his heavy weight on top of you; pushing you further into the cushions of the earth-moving vehicle as he let out a final moan before snapping his hips hard into yours.
the vicious sound of the final clash; of skin-to-skin contact being rivaled by the feral snarls and bellows you both mewl out as he spurts ribbons of warm mess inside of you…
you both suck in deep breaths of air through teeth – trying rigidly to suck your souls back in through playful tongues twirling together.
with teeth almost clashing as you both let out a chuckle. you couldn't believe what you just did with a filthy man, and in his very own machinery in the middle of the night like some sneaky teens…
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<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>
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angelprompts · 3 months
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send “🎲” (or "dice") for me to randomize the following settings and write you a starter set within whichever one we get ♡ happy developing ᵔᴗᵔ
*feel free to take or leave anything after the bolded words! i added them to help spark inspiration but you don't have to follow them as it's written
an art museum shortly before closing, there is no one else in the art exhibition except them
their teenage bedroom but the room is empty except for a few cardboard boxes full of their old things
an old church that has chipped wood and broken windows
an empty playground at night, one of street light's lightbulbs seems to be dying as it flickers across the street
stuck in an elevator, it's been almost an hour and there's still no sign that help is on the way
an 80s/90s themed mall where a few of the stores actually feature real clothes from that era
a cemetery at 3am sharp, the fog is making it hard to see even though they have flashlights
a picnic that's set up in the middle of a grassy field, the sun has just started to set
the beach on a sunny day, the sound of children laughing in the distance alongside the seagulls begging for food
a grocery store past midnight, the only other people in the store are the workers
an empty hallway of a hospital, it's dark outside and the overhead light in this hallway are dimmed
a grungy motel room in a motel that definitely has rats living in the walls
a college party in a fraternity / sorority house, the music is a tad too loud and they're running out of food
a dressing room full of performers after a big performance, there's a bouquet of flowers with a note attached laying on their vanity
an empty dressing room hours after a big performance, there's a bouquet of flowers with a note attached laying on their vanity
outside of a train station at midnight, the air is cold and there's a light drizzle
a crowded nightclub on new years eve, the countdown to midnight is just about to start
their dining room but there's a blizzard outside, nobody is getting in or out of the house for the next day or two
the waiting room of a detective's office in the early hours of the morning
beside a broken down vehicle on one of the back roads, you're an hour away from town and nobody ever uses the back roads anymore
the driver and passengers seats while driving for the past 2 hours, they're starting to think they may have taken a wrong turn
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queuestarter · 4 months
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imbrued
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(finnick odair x reader)
cw: stab wound, vomit, mentions of prostitution, murder, blood, death
link to the request → reader and finnick are in the quell together and reader gets injured. finnick does everything he can to protect her
open to submissions/asks !!
You never expected to be back.
Why would you? After winning the 68th Hunger Games, you thought you were free from the torment, but that was never the case. After winning and gaining the favor of the capitol, you were immediately thrust into the spotlight, being sold off to those who could afford you. You were given a slot each week on television, showing off baking recipes that you had no interest in making. 
And now, your name was called once more from the pool of victors, placing you back to where you started when you were just sixteen years old, only this time with your boyfriend Finnick by your side.
The events of the weeks leading up to the start of the Quarter Quell passed in a blur. Things only start registering with you when you’re finally in the arena, eyes searching frantically around your surroundings to try and figure out what’s going on.
You can see water immediately in front of you with trees just beyond it, which is more than ideal since you’re from District 4. In your first games, you had to trek through fields of tall grass for miles before there was a place to take shelter.
After you find your bearings on the platform, you immediately begin to search for Finnick. You spot him across the water, the distance upsetting you, but Johanna is on your other side which is slightly comforting. 
When the gong sounds, you immediately head for the Cornucopia. You thrived in the bloodbath in your last games and you plan to do so again. Finnick didn’t want you to put yourself at risk, but you have a reputation to uphold. You know the only way that you’re going to get any sponsors is if you put on a show.
Due to your strong swimming skills, you and Finnick get to the golden Cornucopia first. You barely have time to send a smile his way before you’re grabbing weapons- small knives to strap onto your body and a metal spear to hold. You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when you’re forced to use your newly acquired spear on another tribute, proud that you protected Finnick from a man that was going to kill him.
It’s only when you are finally forced away from the Cornucopia by Finnick’s strong hold on your upper arm that you have the time to talk to him. You can tell by the slight frown on his face that he’s not very happy with you.
“What were you thinking? I told you not to go to the Cornucopia.” He’s still holding onto your arm as you make your way through the jungle, Katniss and Peeta in front of you.
You roll your eyes and smile at him. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Finnick only frowns at you more. “I’m trying to protect you, here. Something bad could have happened.”
You actually laugh at that. “I know you remember my games, Finn. The Cornucopia was mine in the last games. Don’t worry so much about me.”
He sighs, but drops the subject. The two of you fall silent.
The next few hours are terrible. Peeta’s near death, the acid fog, the monkey mutts that killed the poor morphling from District 6 and claimed your spear. The Quell is moving at a much quicker pace than any of the games have in the past and it’s worrying you. 
Things only start to look up after Katniss uses Wiress’ cryptic words to discover that the arena is set up like a clock.
Finnick, ever inquisitive, says, “I’d like to go to the Cornucopia and watch. Just to make sure we’re right about the clock.” You all decide that it’s a pretty good idea and walk the short stretch over to the golden horn.
The others begin to talk mindlessly as you and Finnick branch off into your own conversation while you patrol the border of the Cornucopia. “It’s interesting that there’s nothing but weapons here this year. They’re really trying to get this over with,” you comment.
Finnick nods. “They want us dead. Good thing we know how to fish,” he smirks.
You shake your head in slight amusement, carefully toeing closer to everyone else. As you get closer to the group, you look up from your feet to see Gloss creeping up on the rock wedges, getting closer to an unsuspecting Wiress.
“No!” You scream, pulling a small dagger from your belt. “Wiress, move!” You try to close the gap between you and her.
But it’s too late. You watch in horror as Wiress’ throat gets easily cut by Gloss. Without much thought, you finish the sprint to Gloss, your blade swiftly leaving your hand and ending up in his neck. His eyes widen as he grabs at the handle but before doesn’t pull it out, instead he jumps towards you.
You almost don’t realize what happens. As Gloss lands on top of your body, the same knife he used to kill Wiress ends up in your lower abdomen. You scream, but in the chaos of trying to kill the rest of the careers along with the rapid shifting of the Cornucopia and surrounding waters, the sound gets lost.
It’s only after Finnick grabs your hand and begins to drag you off the island that the reality settles in. You were stabbed in the abdomen and you are losing blood. You put your hand over the wound and keep walking.
“Are you okay?” Finnick asks you once you are back on the beach. “Are you hurt?”
You debate lying for a second. The last thing anyone needs right now is another injured tribute. Beetee is barely hanging on as it is and Peeta is constantly slowing down the group, there doesn’t need to be another liability. But Finnick knows you and he would know if you lied to him.
“I think Gloss stabbed me,” is what ends up coming out of your mouth. You almost wish you lied when you see Finnick’s reaction.
His face twists up in a look of sheer panic, pupils blowing. His hands run across your body until they meet your own hand, holding firmly onto the meaty flesh of your lower torso. “Here?” He asks, gripping your red fingers. “This is where he got you?”
Tears welling up in your eyes, you nod. You can’t help but feel like a disappointment. You thought you would be able to absolutely dominate in these games based on your last ones, but you completely overlooked the fact that everyone else here is a victor, too.
“Okay, baby, let me look,” he gently commands. His eyes turn even wilder when you shake your head. “I need to look. I can’t help you if I can’t see it.”
Your hand drops from your side. Finnick wastes no time in unzipping your jumpsuit, pulling it below your sports bra and to your hips. He bites his lip as he assesses the damage. With a gentle hand, he prods at the tender flesh. A second later, you push him away and throw up.
You can hear him cursing behind you as you continue to retch. You don’t know why you’re sick, but you know that it cannot be good. 
When your sudden sickness is over and you turn back to Finnick to assure him that you don’t know what that was, that you’re fine, you see the rest of the group staring at you, Katniss hands Finnick a mound of what looks like moss in one hand and a small tube.
“I know this isn’t the best option, but it’ll help. I’m sure someone will send us something better soon,” he sends you a small, still panicked smile.
You just nod your head. You’re embarrassed and tired and you want everyone to stop staring at you. You allow Finnick to lead you to where the spile has been hammered into a tree, rinse your wound, apply the medicine, and pack it with the moss. After a few minutes, you feel as good as new.
“Thank you, Finn,” you smile at him. He wraps his arms around you tightly.
“Of course,” he breathes into your hair. “Anything for you. I can’t believe I almost lost you.”
You press a kiss on his collarbone. “That was nothing. I’m not going anywhere.”
“We need to get out of here. You need a real doctor.”
You nod into his shoulder, not too worried anymore. “Soon.”
“Soon,” he repeats back.
And he keeps his promise. The rest of the plan plays out, although not perfectly. You and Finnick are both evacuated and he makes sure you see a doctor, for both the stab in your stomach and the gash in your arm where you cut the tracker out.
You know there’s still more to do, but you feel safe knowing Finnick will be there to protect you.
-
387 notes · View notes
frostfangalphabitch · 7 months
Text
The next time you're playing Armored Core 6, I really encourage you to stop in the middle of missions and really take a look at the scenery around you. There's a ton of detail in the world that you probably missed when you were dodging missiles and gunfire and running your pile bunker through enemy ACs. I know I missed a ton until I started really Looking.
Like, did you know that you actually can see the shore from the beginning of Watchpoint Delta? It's barely visible through the midnight fog, but it is there.
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How about the fact that the grids are literally everywhere you go until you reach the Central Ice Fields? The area with the cargo cannon is the very first view of the open sky we get and the first time we really see how the sky is inundated with coral cinders.
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Did you really see just how fucked up Grid 012 is? We're traversing dilapidated and broken pieces of it, but that's not localized to just the combat area. It's called the Contaminated Zone for a reason. I wish we knew more about it so we could figure out exactly why it's contaminated. It doesn't seem to be Coral contamination, at least. Based on the fact that the entirety of Belius is covered in these grids, and most of them are not nearly in as bad shape as this one, it's safe to say that the pre-Fires Rubiconians just kept building more instead of repairing what they had. Industrial sprawl at its worst.
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There's cool environmental storytelling everywhere you go in this game. Like how the gigantic wreckage on the other side of the wall in "Retrieve Combat Logs" is a piece of the Grid above it. We can even see where it detached from the grid above us. Really helps you see just how huge these things are.
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So next time you're ripping pilots out of their MTs and making new cavities in superweapons, take a moment to stop and smell the Coral, as it were.
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ellabsprincess · 10 months
Note
Vi love your boobas! She will kiss them, lick them, suck them, sleep on them, everything!
When she’s come home from a long day, she just wants your boobs in her mouth! And you’ll be laying on the couch just talking to her about your day while she sucks<3
anon yes omfg get out of my brain!! <3 vi definitely has an oral fixation and loves to keep herself occupied with your tits in her mouth.
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𝐕𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, mdni, cute little smutty drabble, tit sucking, nipple play, sexual themes, vi being needy
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @dropsofs4turn @hehatesmati @zethd @im-jinxs-trinket
𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
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the tune of your favorite song blasts through your ears, your headphones blocking out the sound of any other unimportant disturbances. you move your head to the beat subconsciously, not even aware that you were moving and dancing while seated on your couch. you were scrolling through some app on your phone, nothing better to do than to burn time while you waited for your girlfriend to get home from work.
little did you know, she had just entered your shared apartment, and was standing back in the doorway, just admiring you so perfectly lost in your own little world. vi lived for little domestic moments like this, and she loved to come home to you blissful and upbeat.
not wanting to scare you, she slowly walks in front of the couch to be in your field of vision in your field of vision. the second you see her, your eyes light up in excitement and you fling yourself from the couch, not caring that your phone falls to the floor with a distinct clunk.
"vi! you're home! i didn't even hear you come in!" you squeal excitedly, running into her open arms.
"yeah cupcake, i'm home. missed you baby," it was a rough day for her at work, but she didn't want to think about that. not when she had her favorite person in her arms.
"c'mon, lets relax on the couch cupcake, didn't mean to interrupt you,"
...
your headphones and phone sat abandoned on the coffee table, your top and bra tossed aimlessly and recklessly to the floor.
your bottoms were left on, but nothing adorned your chest besides your necklaces and a series of wet hickeys across your neck and breasts.
your chest rose and fell with each breath and word expelled from your mouth, blabbering on about your day. you were detailed, wanting this moment to last as long as possible. as you described your eventful grocery spree or that morning, slurping and sucking sounds echo in the room, sourced from vi's lips enclosed around your tit, her hand pinching and teasing your other nipple. her spit and drool was all over your chest, but you couldn't care less. not when she looked so perfectly angelic and ethereal, her puppy dog eyes looking up at you ever so often to assure you she was listening while she lazily sucked and worshiped your tits.
the activity wasn't even foreplay for the both of you anymore, it became more of a peaceful daily ritual. sure, it was sexual, but it was more calming. it grounded vi after a tough day, and gave you time to rant to her and expel all your pent-up negative emotions from the day. it was beautiful and domestic more than anything.
vi lets out an occasional mhm, or quiet moan around your nipples as you recount the adventures of just that day, showing her agreement to your arguments with others, and getting lost in a hazy fog as she relaxes more than she's even been able to before.
eventually your fingers find their way to her hair, playing with the spiky ends and massaging her scalp. your nails scratch into her head, causing goosebumps to run down her body like insects crawling across her skin. she shivers a bit, but relishes in the pleasure of your hands.
she may come across as intimidating, overly dominant and even stubborn, but really, she just needs to be babied. she loves when she can be vulnerable with you, worship your body and play out all her desires while you pat her head and praise her for how good she makes you feel.
after at least an hour of vi curing her oral fixation with your beautiful chest in her mouth, you eat a quick dinner, haphazardly get ready for bed, and climb under the covers together, her head making it back to your chest once more. as you breathe softly, drifting off into the depths of your own mind, vi can only smile, as she herself falls asleep, close to your heart, the place she wishes to live forever.
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toxicanonymity · 6 months
Note
Hey look at that! That's your stepdad!Joel 😁
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roadside (set in the past)
700 words, stepdad!Joel x f!reader
stepdad masterlist
A/N: Alright, I guess I'm doing another alt timeline where he gets in trouble, damnit 😭. SUMMARY: Alt. ending to uber. WARNINGS: I8+ PWP, groping, BJ, mutual touching, humiliation, the usual baiting/pressure from reader.
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You feel a damp spot under your palm as you grope him through his joggers. When you reach into his waistband and feel the smooth skin of his shaft for the first time, he swerves, and red and blue lights flash behind you. "FUCK. Happy now?"
The cops make him do a field sobriety test and his massive erection is tenting his sweats the whole time. Holding his arms straight out with his hair sticking every which way, his tight white t-shirt rides up and his silhouette in the red and blue lights looks like a slutty scarecrow with a raging hard-on. The cops get a kick out of it. Combined with the little damp spot, it's obvious the real reason he swerved, but they cuff him for a few minutes just to teach him a lesson while they give you both a lecture about how there's a time and a place. Then when he's uncuffed, he can finally adjust himself. One of the cops nods toward Joel's crotch and says, "shouldn't drive with that big'a distraction" and fails to suppress a smirk. "If ya needa finish, just put on your hazards, k?"
The cops laugh as they get in their patrol car and drive off. You get in the car in silence and put on the hazards then reach for his cock again. He throws your wrist away and you say "you heard him, c'mon." He shakes his head, jaw clenched, glasses beginning to fog up, refusing to look at you.
"Just lemme get it wet for you," you plead.
"FUCK," he yells and bangs the steering wheel. "God damnit," he mutters and checks you out. "Fuck," he whispers and tilts his seat all the way back.
He buries his eyes in the crook of his elbow, bulging arm muscles straining his sleeves, and his shirt rides up again, exposing his happy trail. You take his hard cock out and inhale his musk, memorizing the scent. Your clit twitches and you just barely move his smooth, warm skin over the stiff shaft as you admire it. God, he has a nice one. It could be used a sex toy mold, no shit. You lick from base to tip then swirl your tongue around the tip and he gasps as you take his length into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You suck and tongue him hard, and before long he's moaning, and his chest is rising and falling with heavier breaths.
"Alright," he grumbles when he's close, and you keep going. "That's enough," he snaps. Then he pulls up his shirt, takes his cock from you, pumps it twice, and begins to release with a shudder. You clench your thighs together as you watch and the sight alone almost makes you cum untouched.
Holy shit, the cum. The look on his face. His brows furrowed, eyes pinched shut, mouth hanging open with rope after rope making a mess of his tummy.
"Holy shit," you mutter, knowing that whatever happens, this is something you won't forget. Your cunt spasms just thinking about what if you were on his dick right now getting all of that pumped into you. You reach between your legs and rub yourself for a frantic 10 seconds. Holding a breast with your other hand, then you moan. And Jesus, he's just now finishing. When you moan, he shoves his hand under you to catch your release. He's catching his breath, hand soaked between your legs, and says "it aint happeninn, sweetheart," slowly withdrawing his hand which goes straight to his nose and mouth.
You use your balled up stockings to dry yourself off, then he yanks them away from you and stuffs them in his pocket. He puts the seat back up, starts the car, and drives you home in silence with his t-shirt sticking to the massive trail of cum on his stomach.
--------
For another alt timeline of stepdad getting in trouble, see "what if you bailed Joel out for indecent exposure?" 😭
NOTE: In SD canon you, don't jack him off or blow him until subsequent parts of the story.
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mikkomacko · 3 days
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Him and I: Meet the Hischiers
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Pairing: Mob Boss! Nico x Reader
Warnings: Alcohol, Nico's crappy parents, and mean girls
A/n: Ok I'm so sorry for how long this is, oh my god. I couldn't not add sweet moments between Nico and reader though, but I promise there's only one more chapter of them in Switzerland before they return to Jersey. Anyway, enjoy and please leave comments and thoughts and requests because I love writing mob boss Nico!
xo
~~~~
Nico’s childhood home is humongous. The SUV rolls up the cobblestone driveway to what you’d consider a mansion, honestly. At least three stories, with fields of snow covered grass and hedges, a looping driveway like at a hotel, and a bright red door.
Everything about it screams elegance.
And yet you can picture a tiny Nico toddling after his older siblings in the grass out front, chasing a soccer ball that was half the size of him.
The mental image eases your nerves enough that you’re able to teasingly scoff and smack at Nico’s arm.
“You didn’t tell me your house is the size of New Jersey!”
Nico rolls his eyes at your drama, taking your hand in his and shrugging. “Yes it’s beautiful,” he agrees “but there’s a reason we’re not staying here. Just remember that, ok?”
Dutifully you nod, but that doesn’t stop you from leaning forward to gape at Timo. Your friend just laughs, directing the car into the spot directly in front of the door.
“The Hischier’s are the closest thing to a royal family here,” he tells you. “And Nico is the delinquent prince that ran away from the crown.”
“Stop lying to her Timo.” Nico interjects, his tone hard and commanding. You immediately sink back into your seat, recognizing that for some reason that was a touchy subject.
You’ll ask him about it later when it’s just the two of you.
This time when the car stops, it’s different men in wool coats that pull open Nico’s car door. They greet him in Swiss German, nodding as he slides out and you follow, taking his outstretched hand and stepping onto the stone path.
They look taken aback by your presence, both sharing a look you can’t quite read before greeting you with a simple “miss.”
You smile, wrapping your hand around Nico’s bicep and pressing into his side. Timo falls into step with you, walking alongside as you head for the front door.
Walking into Nico’s childhood home is more like walking into a recently sterilizes hospital room than a house that three children grew up in. Everything is pristine, polished, and pearl white (or beige).
Not a single item in the main room indicates that a family lives here at all. Even the portrait of a man with a thick mustache and sharp nose hanging over the staircase isn’t friendly.
“Wow,” you breathe out, looking over at Timo. He must read the look in your eyes because he nods just once, clearing his throat when Nico shoots him a look over the top of your head.
“Come on baby,” Nico tells you, guiding you further into the house. “They’re probably in the sitting room.”
The sitting room is like a living room, only colder and not exactly lived in. His family is scattered around the large room, perched on white overstuffed furniture. The first to greet you is a light haired woman, and as soon as she smiles you know this is his mother.
“Nico darling!” She exclaims in an accented voice, one that resembles his but with a tone of superiority. Rising from the sofa, she waves the man next to her up. Even if you were seeing him through fogged glass you’d be able to tell he’s Nico’s father.
They have the same nose, same dark eyes that crinkle by the edges. He’s shorter and less broad than Nico, but their posture and gait are the same. Even the way his dark grey hair falls is similar to Nico’s.
They’re carbon copies of each other.
“Son,” the man greets, buttoning up his suit jacket. “The rumors were true then?”
“Rumors?” Nico asks, and his lack of greeting to his parents makes your stomach drop. Throughout the entirety of your relationship you never imagined Nico’s relationship with his family to be like this.
“Word from the airport was that you brought a guest.” His mother supplies, a polite smile being thrown at you. You return it, hanging to Nico’s bicep like a lifeline. Suddenly you feel pathetic, a random American girl pressed at the hip to the heir of a mob family that stretches three countries and two continents. Hiding in the shadow casted by not only Nico but Timo as well.
Maybe it’s a good thing Sieges and the others didn’t come along.
“Timo insisted on tagging along,” your boyfriend jokes and if you weren’t so stunned and stupid you would have laughed. “This,” he continues, prying his arm from your hold to wrap around the small of you back “isn’t a guest, she’s family.”
Steeling your nerves, you take a steady step forward. “Y/n,” you introduce, holding your hand out to his father. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”
He takes your hand, squeezing gently as you meet his gaze. For looking so much like his son, he doesn’t actually resemble him. His eyes are threatening and dark rather than comforting and warm like Nico’s. Even the twitch of his lips feels like it was a muscle spasm.
“Rino,” he tells you. “But sir works better.”
You nod in agreement, now reaching out towards his mother. She’s just as calculated when it comes to introducing herself, her tone haughty and amused as she says “Katja.”
“Wonderful to meet you,” you say, smiling warmly despite the thudding of your heart against your ribcage.
“You as well,” she responds, then shoots her son a look. “I’m afraid we haven’t heard much about you y/n, or anything at all for that matter.”
Ignoring the blow, you settle back into Nico’s side. Timo cuts in, greeting them you think but you can’t really hear him over the voice in your head desperately reminding you that Nico loves you, Nico wants you here.
It’s not until Nico’s nose is pressed to your temple that you snap back into reality. “Breathe y/n,” he whispers, his voice just a tickle in your ear but strong and encouraging. “You’re doing perfect.”
Coming back to yourself, you take his hand in thanks as Katja directs her attention to the few men milling about the room. She speaks to them in Swiss German, an order obviously if them scurrying out of the room is anything to go by.
With her and Rino no longer focused on you for the moment, you helplessly look up at Nico. He’s already watching you, not even a hint of a smile on that handsome face of his. Even so, his gaze is solid and proud, and the subtle tilt of his head tells you enough.
It’s ok.
Your breath shudders, feeling weak under those eyes that know and read you so well. You look away, biting at the inside of your cheek to stop the welling feeling of tears. You have to stop before you let your thoughts run too wild, plagued by images of the sweet man before you living under the scrutinizing gazes of this family.
It’s difficult to even picture how he turned into the Nico you know and love.
The return of the workers distracts you, this time a man and woman following behind them. Another copy of Nico, his brother looks like he could be the elder twin of your boyfriend. The hair, the nose, the jawline, the walk. Must be a Hischier man thing.
And the woman, so obviously his sister, physically resembles Katja but her eyes hold that same twinkle that lights up Nico’s eyes.
“Luca, Nina-“ Katja says warmly. “Your brother is here. With guests.”
Nico sighs, anything he might say remaining unspoken when Nina steps between the two sides.
“Family, Mama.” She corrects, sending you a friendly wink. Like a million bricks have been lifted off your shoulders, you visibly relax at her welcoming.
“Nina,” she tells you “you have no idea how excited I am to meet you.”
She doesn’t hold out a hand, instead stretching out both arms to you. Laughing nervously, you accept her embrace, briefly squeezing her in appreciation and introducing yourself.
“Never thought I’d see Nico with such a beautiful woman,” she teases, an underlying sincerity in her words that warms your cheeks. “He must’ve finally learned how to shower properly.”
Nico mockingly laughs behind you, grumbling in his native tongue to his sister but he’s quick to hug her smaller frame. You almost laugh when he tucks into her shoulder, curling in like he’s supposed to be smaller than her. Like a younger sibling that’s forgotten he’s grown to be the tallest.
Luca greets you, not as warmly as Nina but with more friendliness than their parents. He plants two polite kisses to your cheeks, squeezing your biceps awkwardly before jumping into reuniting with Nico. Nina stands by her mother’s side, nodding at you just once as Katja and Rino tell Nico and Luca something you don’t understand.
Resilience renewed, you turn your head to Timo and he leans down so you can whisper in his ear. “You have to teach me something in German, I’m drowning here.”
He chuckles quietly, leaning into your ear. “I’ll try again but I’m not a miracle worker honey.” You blink at him, jabbing your elbow into him in annoyance. He does it back, jolting you and your gearing up to hit him back when a firm hand is reaching around your back and taking a hold of your elbow.
Easily and swiftly, Nico pulls you into his side. By the way Timo straightens up, you’d imagine he’s been silently scolded by his boss. Smirking, you bat your eyelashes at him and innocently press into Nico’s hold.
“We’ve prepared lunch, if you’re hungry.” Katja offers but she’s already directing everyone to another room. The three of you follow obediently, not having any other option really.
~~~~
Lunch is better than the family reunion that took place in the sitting room. With the distraction of food and a cook and his siblings, Katja and Rino don’t even spare you a second glance or get a chance to grill Nico about anything.
Anytime the Devs or New Jersey comes up, Luca or Nina will steer the conversation away. You’re sure it has something to do with everyone avoiding the topic of Nico’s leave of absence and lack of contact for the past few years, but you can’t be certain because it’s never said.
Nico has a hand on you throughout the whole meal, either lacing his fingers with yours or resting comfortably on your thigh. He makes sure that you eat enough, that your water is ok, that you don’t want more helpings. It’s sweet, the way he always communicates through his actions. Maybe he didn’t prepare you enough for this encounter like he should’ve, but physically he’s been here and done everything to let you know that he has your back.
Besides, after listening to his family carefully navigate around unsavory topics over lunch, you can see why he struggles with words.
Especially when his mother is hell bent on making it uncomfortable. The plates have barely been cleared away when she’s zeroing in on her youngest.
“I suppose it’s time you tell us why you’ve come back,” she says airily. “Or rather why you left?”
Nico’s fingers tighten around yours, eyelids fluttering in annoyance as he suppresses an eye roll. “Mother-“
“Everything was set up Nico,” she cuts in. “The house, the branch, Len-“
“That’s enough!” He cuts off gruffly, silencing Katja. You stroke your thumb over his knuckle, unsure of how to navigate him like this in front of his family. It’s different at home where you have a place, where it’s your job to step in and protect the boys from his angry bouts. But this is different, uncharted. You don’t have a spot in the lives of his family let alone a place to interject. Hell, you don’t even know the context of why Nico left either.
“Watch the tone Nico,” Rino says casually, “that’s your mother.”
Sighing, Nico shakes his head. “I’m here for the week, take it or leave it. And I didn’t come to answer questions you already have the answer for.”
You watch him look around the large table, meeting everyone gaze with a firmness he only gets on jobs and deals. When he receives a simple hum from his mother, he turns to you.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he says quietly, rising from his seat. You follow his lead, pushing your chair back in and sharing a nervous look with Timo.
Nico addresses his parents. “I’m gonna show y/n around the grounds.” Then he’s nudging you towards the hall, large hand on your back as you go.
“Put on a coat Nico!” His mother calls after you and he waves over his head in acknowledgment. You’re silent all the way back to the front door, putty in Nico’s hands as he zips you into your winter coat and slips his beanie over your head.
Returning the favor, the zip his own coat for him, adjusting the collar and hood so his ears and neck stay warm.
Nico doesn’t return to being your Nico until the side door of the house is closing behind you. Immediately he’s attaching himself to you, hunching down to wrap his arms around your waist and tuck his face into your neck. Rising to your toes, you bundle your arms around him as best you can with all the thick winter layers between you.
Closing your eyes, you breathe in the cold air and just hold him for a moment. You don’t let go until he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, straightening out his posture and looking at you with those moony eyes of his.
“Show me the grounds,” you mock in a posh voice giggling when he rolls his eyes and offers his elbow to you. Taking ahold of him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and let him guide you down the shoveled paths.
The grounds stretch on forever, through untouched wooded land and open plains of snow. Nico shows you a tennis court, a basketball court, the indoor hockey setup him and Luca used religiously as children. You trudge through the snow with him, winter air nipping at your nose and dry lips aching as your awe of the place kept growing and growing. Every ten steps was something new, some fond memory Nico’s dug up of his childhood.
“I almost broke my ankle trying to do cartwheels,” Nico laughs, gaze sweeping over the open area in which Nina apparently tried to teach Nico gymnastics. “She hadn’t even done gymnastics herself, but I wanted her to think I was cool so I did it.”
Giggling, you shake your head at him. “You can’t do a cartwheel?” You ask incredulously. Nico scoffs, shaking his head like it should be obvious. Releasing his arm, you strut to the open space in front of him and throw your arms up.
“Watch and learn Nico baby.” You tease, winking before executing a perfect cartwheel. The snow is cold on your hands, bites at your fingers but you do a couple more anyway just to show off.
Nico exclaims in surprise, staring at you with his jaw dropped and dimples in his cheeks. “Alright, just rub it in my face!” He complains and you laugh, giving him a bow. Leaning down he scoops up some snow, quickly packing it together. You have just enough time to curl into yourself before he’s throwing it at your torso.
Squealing, you dig your numb hands into the snow to throw one back. Dodging and ducking through laughter, you and Nico pelt each other with snow until your hands are so frozen you think they might fall off.
In surrender, you leap at him and throw your arms around his neck. The shock of your bitter cold fingers on his bare skin makes him jump and he goes crashing to the ground, taking you with him.
Luckily he breaks your fall, and the snow breaks his so it’s still giggles when you cup his jaw, sitting up to check him for injuries. He’s got snow in his hair and eyelashes, his cheeks and nose glowing red as he bites at his bottom lip to try and contain his smile.
“You’re so handsome,” you whisper, the words mostly spoken to yourself but in the large, silent estate they carry. Nico’s cheeks redden even more, eyes glimmering with love. Then, thinking of the cold man from whom Nico got his looks, you quickly add “inside and out.”
His face falls with realization, a look of sympathy flashing through his eyes. Not that he should be sympathetic about anything, these people didn’t raise you. “I should’ve warned you,” he says “I just didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want you to think I don’t love them because I do, they’re just different.”
The snow has begun soaking into your pants, stinging your skin and you imagine Nico’s butt must be just as cold. Yet he makes no move to get up, just stares up at you from the ground with those all-telling eyes of his.
“You warned me,” you say “maybe not intentionally but you did.” From wasting away the morning with you to the way he always had a protective hand on you today, Nico warned you the best way he knows how. With protective actions.
Brushing his hair off his forehead, you ask “wanna talk about it?” Nico sighs, cheeks puffing up as he does so and the cloud of his breath dances in between you. He agrees though, nodding for you to get up so you climb off his lap and take his hand to help him up.
Nico takes both of your hands in his, squeezing them before drawing the up to his lips. Eyebrows pinched together in concentration, he breathes hot hair in an attempt to warm them up for you. After a moment he squeezes them again, frowning when they’re still too cold for his liking.
Giggling, you pull your hands back and hug his arm. “I’m ok, let’s just go back and we can talk somewhere warm.”
Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, Nico agrees. Oblivious to the figure looming on the balcony that overlooks the grounds, he leads you back towards the house, feet crunching in the snow.
~~~~
Clothes sopping wet and cold, you shuffle into Nico’s old bedroom and immediately begin shedding your winter layers. Unsure of everyone else’s whereabouts in the house, Nico closes the door and locks it before he too strips out of his clothes.
In just his boxers he disappears into the closet and you take the opportunity to look around his room. A large bed sits in the middle of the room, a fluffy blue quilt that matches the accent wall covering it. An old ratty teddy bear sits on the bed, looking out the large window across the room. The view is beautiful, snow covered mountains and white topped trees. There’s a desk in the corner, the top of it empty but the shelves have a few books and childhood awards scattered on them.
You tiptoe over, notice most of the awards have a soccer or hockey player on them. There’s one of a boy snowboarding and one engraved with a book, and though you can’t read them inscription, the year on them tells you that Nico was under 16 when he won all these.
A photo you’ve seen on his phone is hung up next to the desk, Luca and Nina holding a baby Nico on a beach somewhere, all chubby cheeks and blonde hair.
A poster of a Swiss tennis player hangs next to the bed, a few more photos scattered around the room. You don’t get the chance to examine them because Nico strolls back into the room with a ball of clothes in his hands.
“Not sure when these were last washed but it should be fine,” he shrugs, dropping the mess of items to the bed. He digs out a pair of boxers, some dark sweats, and a long sleeve for you. You happily accept the dry clothes, stripping out of your damp underwear and bra.
Nico’s Calvin’s are a little tight when you shimmy them up you hips but not uncomfortable. You pull the sweats on, rolling the waistband so they don’t hang over your feet. It’s not until you’re tugging the shirt over your head that you notice Nico is standing butt naked across from you, boxers in hand as he shamelessly watches you change.
Knowing where this going, you quickly pull the shirt on, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Put that thing away and start talking Hischier.”
He chuckles, beginning to get dressed. You sit on the bed, reaching over for the teddy and pulling it into your lap. “What do you want to know?”
“I know how you ended up in Jersey,” you say, fingers rubbing at the soft fabric of the bears ear. “Inheritance from your grandfather and wanting to get away from here. But I always thought it was because you’re the youngest, ya know? You like to be in charge and you can’t do that with Luca and Nina being in line for everything,”
Nico lets you talk, pulling on his teeshirt and settling into the bed next to you.
“But your parents said everything was lined up. What did they mean?”
Nico sighs, eyes dropping to his lap and he fiddles with the tie on his sweats. You turn to look at him, walking the teddy bear across the mattress and plopping it in his lap. He doesn’t look at you but a dimple sinks into his cheek and he takes the bear from you.
“My parents were trying to branch out, stretch the business like they did sending Nina to France. They had this whole mock up of me using my inheritance to move to Germany and head everything there.
“But they wanted to send someone with me. This girl whose father does business with mine. We had a thing kind of when we’re younger, not dating but like when I wanted to be with someone she was there. So they added a wedding to the plan and invited her to join the family.”
There’s no reason to be jealous of this girl, whoever she is. You know that, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling a little nauseous thinking of his family picking out a wife for him.
“What did you say?” You murmur, slipping your fingers under his shirt and stroking the warm skin of his stomach. Nico picks at a thread on the bear, taking a deep breath.
“Nothing, to them. I took the money and some buddies and left. Told Nina I was starting my own family in Jersey, that I didn’t want to be married or in Germany.
“That’s how I got Timo, Sieges, and Bratter to join me. We’d all been friends for a while and they hated the girl. My parents didn’t know, but she’d been after Luca the whole time she was with me. He was too focused on taking over here in Switzerland though. That’s why she wanted him, she wanted to be the queen or whatever of Switzerland. “
“Why’d she agree to marry you then?”
Nico looks up now, shrugging. You inch closer to him, stomach feeling sick and he must know you don’t particularly like to hear this story because he nudges you into his lap. Straddling his thighs, you relax forward into his chest and let him wrap his arm around you.
“Because one of us was better than neither I guess. I had a feeling she assumed she could marry me and then convince me to push Luca out or something. I don’t know but I didn’t say a word to her either, I just left.”
You nod, the joke Timo made in the car earlier finally adding up. Nico was the prince lined up to be married and grow the business, to make his family stronger. Instead he took his power and his means elsewhere. He built his own kingdom.
“I think you’re so smart Nico,” you mumble, “not many 18 year old boys would be able to do what you did.”
Nico tucks the bear into your chest and you hug it. “I had help,” he says “but it was the best decision I ever made. I got you from it.”
His phone buzzes on the nightstand, interrupting you two. You feel him reach over for it, holding you tighter as he leans over.
“Nina invited us to go out tonight for drinks,” he says. “She wants to have fun without my parents around.”
“Is Timo invited?”
“Yes, Timo is invited.” Nico laughs, stroking your hair.
“Ok. I have to go home for new clothes though.”
Nico hums his agreement, still stroking your hair. You cuddle into him, hugging the teddy bear tighter as you sort through everything he told you. It’s impossible for you to see how some girl had Nico right in front of her, was lined up to spend the rest of her life with him and instead made him feel unwanted.
How could anyone not pick him? How was she not begging on her knees to run away to Jersey with him?
“Nico?”
“Yes baby?”
“I want you,” you whisper. “I always have and I always will. I’d do anything for you.”
You think of everything you’ve given up for Nico, the life you’d left behind for him and it doesn’t even phase you. Because he’s worth it, always worth it.
“Trust me, I know my love,” he assures but you can hear the relief in his tone. Then he’s giggling boyishly, digging his nose into the top of your head. “I knew as soon as met you that there was no getting rid of you.”
Blushing, you close your eyes and enjoy his embrace, enjoying a moment with just him.
~~~~
Luca owns the bar that Nina had invited you too. Technically the business owns it, but it was Luca’s investment plan that acquired it and it’s his staff that runs it.
You find that out as Nico leads you by the hip to the sectioned off tables in the back. Luca and a few other guys mill about the table, some you recognize from seeing around the house today. Nina is there too, her long hair pulled back into a slick pony and she’s sipping from a fruity cocktail with a blonde girl.
“You made it!” Luca greets upon seeing his brother, his demeanor much more welcoming and laidback than earlier. You let go of Nico’s hand so he can hug Luca again, his eyes crinkling as he laughs.
Timo bro-hugs Luca before disappearing back into the common area, most likely heading to the bar. You’re reaching for Nico’s hand again when Luca crouches down to meet your gaze, glossy eyes and smile shining at you.
He looks so much like Nico.
“There she is!” He shouts, charging you with open arms. You laugh in shock when he scoops you up in a hug, drink sloshing against your back as he sways back and forth.
“Hi Luca,” you giggle, awkwardly rubbing your hand up and down his back. “Nice to see you again.”
He drops you to your feet, gripping your elbow when you stumble. Not that it’s needed; Nico’s hand found your lower back as soon as your toes touched the polished floors.
“You know, I never understood why Nico loved Jersey so much,” he shouts over the music and chatter “but I get it now. I like you a lot even if my parents don’t.”
You’re not shocked to hear that but you dramatically gasp anyway. “Your parents don’t like me?!” You cry, holding a hand over your heart. “What’ll we ever do?”
Luca laughs at you, taking a swig of his beer before shaking his head fondly. “Fuck ‘em,” he says casually “Nico’s better off with you anyway.”
Your cheeks heat up at his words, flattered by the praise. You were hesitant about Luca earlier, not knowing if he liked you or not. He was harder to read than Nico and Nina but you assume that’s the oldest sibling in him.
Without another word he’s walking away, stumbling towards the pool tables with some friends. Nico leans in over your shoulder, nose brushing your temple.
“He’s a friendly drunk,” he explains “but he really does like you.”
You turn towards him. “He’s funny,” you say “I like him too.”
Pressing the lightest kiss to your cheekbone, Nico nods towards the bar. “Something with vodka?” He asks and you peek around him at Nina.
“I want what Nina is drinking.”
Amused, he nods and takes you by the hand. He approaches the booth, leaning over towards his sister to mumble something in her ear. You don’t hear what she says back but Nico straightens out, stepping out of the way and nudging you to sit down. Happily, you slide into the seat next to Nina and accept her giddy hug.
Nico sweeps your hair over your shoulder, squeezing your neck briefly before going to get your drink.
“Oh this is Maja,” Nina introduces you to her friend. You reach over the table to shake her hand and introduce yourself.
“I’m with Luca,” Maja tells you, her pretty blue eyes sparkling. “Sorry I missed lunch today, I tend to skip those gatherings as often as I can.”
“I totally understand!” You laugh,” I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time.”
Nina gasps, gripping your arms as she beams at you. “You’re gonna come back?!”
Giggling, you nod. “Well yeah, I know Nico misses you and Luca and it hasn’t been bad. Besides, it’s beautiful here!”
“You have to visit in the summer!” Maja tells you, “we can make fondue and float the river.”
Nina agrees telling you all about how that was Nico’s favorite thing to do when he was younger. Then she’s inviting you to France, telling you all about the beautiful French men and how much you’d love them.
You let her chatter on, laughing at her antics. French men aren’t exactly your forte, especially not when you’re dating a Swiss man but you can remind her about that later.
“Nina,” Nico interrupts, placing your drink in front of you. “are you trying to set my prinzessin up with a Frenchie?”
Sliding in next to you, he wraps his arm around your stomach and draws you back into his chest. His sister gapes at him, so shocked by his words she’s gone speechless and you shyly sip your drink.
“Prinzessin, Nico!” She gasps, holding her heart. Nina tells him something in Swiss German, reaching around you to excitedly shove her brother.
His response is also lost on you but you can tell by Nina’s moony eyes and how he hunches into you that it was something loving and sweet. “Soon, soon.” Nico finally says, taking a drink of his beer and setting it next to yours.
“Hey don’t talk about me when I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
Laughing, Nico presses a kiss to your temple. “Sorry baby,” he says, squeezing your shoulders. You turn to face him, sliding your leg over his lap.
“You didn’t tell me about Maja,” you murmur, fiddling with the straw in your drink. Nico’s eyebrows pinch together, lips pursing in confusion as he looks around the bar.
“Who?”
“Nico oh my god,” you gasp “Luca’s girlfriend-wife-whatever?”
Some clarity washes over his face and he giggles, glancing across the booth to Maja. Lowering his lips to your ear, “I thought her name was Maria,” he whispers and you laugh.
“I don’t know, Luca got with her after I left and he’s not chatty on the phone. For all I know he’s already married her.”
You look over your shoulder at her hand. “No ring,” you tell him “and I don’t think he’d get married without telling you.”
Nico shrugs, taking a swig of his beer before holding it out to you. You slide him your drink, trying the tangy beer he’s been nursing. It’s not bad but beer isn’t your favorite so you quickly hand it back.
“That’s sweet,” Nico says, smacking his lips and returning it to you. “Too sweet, Jesus Christ.” You laugh, snacking an arm around his shoulders and digging your fingers into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.
“It’s not that bad,” you argue, guiding him closer to you. Smirking, those dark eyes of his dance across your face before settling on your lips. He does the rest of the work for you, capturing your mouth in a sloppy kiss.
“Mmm,” he hums, pulling back and swiping his tongue across his lips. “Better.”
His voice has that gruffness to it, heavy and thick, and not just because his accent is stronger now that he’s home. It makes your neck and ears feel hot, stomach flipping.
“No PDA in my bar Nico!” Luca’s shouting makes you jump, almost knocking Nico’s beer across the table and him and Timo snicker as they sit across from you.
“Bar PDA is his favorite,” Timo laughs, winking at you. “How do you think they ended up together?”
You can’t even argue with him. Nico is notorious for being handsy, especially when he’s out and drinking.
“Really?” Luca hums, slinging an arm around Maja. “It used be like pulling teeth just to get him to look at girl around here.”
And well, that’s news to you. Although you suppose if he planned on leaving Switzerland anyway and he had that girl to fool around with whenever he wanted, what’s the point? You’re well aware that he was never looking for love.
Nico quickly changes the topic, asking Timo about his day with his family tomorrow and you join Nina and Maja as they sift through songs on the online jukebox to play.
The queue stacks up, your drink starts to run out, and Nico leaves with Timo and his brother to go play pool. Nina leaves the phone with Maja, taking you by the hand to the bar where she orders more drinks and drops them on Nico’s tab. Not that it matters, you doubt he pays for drinks here anyway.
“I’m gonna head to the restroom,” you tell her, and she takes your drink back to the closed off section. The bathrooms are in the opposite back corner, a group of girls huddled in front of the door so you line up behind them.
Your phone buzzes in hand, Nico’s contact lighting up the screen and you almost laugh. Of course he noticed you were missing.
I’ve lost my pretty girl
Biting your lip, you text back bathroom break ♥️
The typing dots pop up and you’re anxiously awaiting his response when the conversation around you catches your attention. Specifically the mention of Nico’s name.
“He’s still as hot as ever,” a dark haired girl in front of you comments, and you keep your eyes on your phone so they don’t think you’re eavesdropping.
“Do you think she’s actually with him or is that just another fuck you to his parents?”
Nico’s text comes through, but you can’t focus enough to read it. “I mean, she doesn’t look his type so who knows. Didn’t he say he wasn’t into commitment Lena?”
Out of the corner of your eye, a tall and leggy brunette twirls her hair around her finger and shrugs. “If he were into commitment don’t you think he’d be with me right now? It’s definitely just to piss off his parents, I mean did you see the size of her? Typical American girl.”
Suddenly you feel sick, like everything you’ve ever eaten is choking up in your throat and about to spew all over the mean girls in front of you.
“I heard he put her in the family,” a quieter voice says. “Timo was talking about it at the bar with Luca. He’s calling her his princess.”
The leader-Lena, scoffs. “Princess? She hasn’t even got a pendent let alone a ring.”
Maybe this why Nico doesn’t talk about his exes. They’re mean and petty little girls, girls that haven’t moved on in over 5 years. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear though.
“Probably another one of his deals. He fucks her, she pretends to be serious with him for a family trip.”
“Why would he decide to come back now with a fake girlfriend?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Lena laughs, loud and proud. “He must have heard that I’m back at the estate.”
You decide that’s enough, pocketing your phone and clearing your throat. All the girls jump at the noise, turning to face you and you smile.
“Are you in line for the bathroom or just gossiping?” You ask politely, smirking as the color drains from all their faces. All except Lena, who looks you up and down before sheepishly nodding for you to go ahead.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You say, stopping in the doorway to look at her. “You’d think Luca would have bathrooms strictly for family but I guess not.”
Embarrassed, they all laugh awkwardly and you close the door behind you. What the fuck?
~~~~
By the time you’ve returned to the booth, you’ve shaken off the word of those girls. You trust Nico, you know Nico loves you, and high school bullies that pick on girls weight and nationality aren’t going to change that.
Nico is still playing pool, but he catches your eye and winks as you settle in next to Nina. Smirking, you blow him a kiss before Nina is handing you music rights. Sipping on your drink, you pull up your playlist on your phone and find the Swiss songs Nico likes. Adding his favorite to the queue you hand the phone back.
“How do you know that song?” Maja asks you, chewing on the end of her straw. You take another sip of yours.
“Nico plays it every time we’re in the car.” You say, catching the eye of Lena over Maja’s shoulder. She simply raises an eyebrow you, throwing back whatever shot is in hand and purses her lips.
“Hey, do you guys know her?” You suddenly ask, nodding towards the bar where Lena is now perched over the top to steal cherries from behind the counter.
“Oh,” Nina mumbles, laughing awkwardly. “Rino does business with her father and uh…”
“She was into Nico?” You supply, glancing over at your boyfriend. Maja bites her lip, hesitantly nodding.
“She was supposed to marry him.” Nina tells you, lowering her gaze to the table. Suddenly it all clicks; the comments about sleeping with him, about him not committing, about using me.
The song changes, the beat immediately catching the attention of Nico who stands up taller and looks over at you. You smile, wiggling your fingers at him as Nina laughs.
“I never thought Nico could be so romantic.” Maja teases you, not that you get it. The rap song is lost on you, any translation you’ve tried to look up being even more confusing. So you just enjoy the beat of it usually.
“What?”
Nina laughs, finally realizing that you can’t understand Swiss German. “It’s a love song,” she tells you, and then she’s pulling up the lyrics and translating them for you.
It’s a lot of nonsense, cute tidbits about how the artist loves the habits and traits of his lover. But the chorus is sweet, a declaration of him finding love after being told he would always be on his own.
Unable to help yourself, you swallow down the rest of your drink and scramble out of the booth. Nico is watching you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as you approach him. He’s leaning on the pool stick but as soon as you get close he’s moving it aside.
You crash into him, bury your nose in his hoodie and holding his waist tightly. “What’s her deal?” Luca slurs, but he goes ignored. Nico squeezes you just once, swaying side to side in time with the song.
Closing your eyes, you think of him singing along in the car, humming it in the shower while he washes your hair for you, blasting it through the house when you two clean together.
“Who translated it for you?” He finally murmurs, his smile present in his tone.
“Your sister,” you say, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him. He’s all white teeth and dimples when you meet his gaze, eyes glimmering with pride. “Her and Maja think you’re very romantic.”
Nico shrugs but doesn’t argue. The pool balls clink behind you and then Timo is hollering. “Game over Luca, pay up.”
Luca mutters something in Swiss, heading to the bar with his head low. You let go of Nico, giving Timo a chance to high five you both.
“Let me teach you to play,” Nico tells you, handing you the pool stick. You follow him to the end of the table, letting him show you how to rack up the balls. Timo chalks up your stick for you, tells you about the cue ball.
And you go about your night, teaming up with Nico to play Timo. He stands behind you for every shot, large hands over yours on the pool stick and his warm chest tight against your back.
It feels so good to have him wrapped around you that you don’t even notice the staring eyes of Lena and her friends.
And you don’t bring her up to Nico, though you probably should’ve.
~~~~
243 notes · View notes
alonetimelover · 9 months
Text
pairing: Harry Styles x scientist(physicist)!reader
summary: There is this one professor at Oxford that can explain physics theorems with help of POP culture. What happens when she uses Harry's music to explain one of the themes?
a/n: It took me definitely much more time than I anticipated... I hope I didn't butchered the theorem explanation in this fic (if so, make me aware, please).
masterlist
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Messages between Jeff and Harry
reyJeff sent an attachment somehow you're useful for science...
my responsibility what is it? last time you sent me a link I got an hour long scolding from my mum and she's somewhere in the house
reyJeff nothing bad this time just some professor is explaining a theorem while using your music she's good, i now know what is the Higgs mechanism
my responsibility there's no way you understand physics, they must be a miracle worker... I'll check the video out see you tomorrow at the office? reyJeff reacted to the message
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TikTok
“But, Dr YSN, the Higgs mechanism does not make sense?” said or rather asked the voice behind the recording phone. 
“Syrup allegory did not help at all?” Dr YSN turned from the blackboard, looking directly at the asking student. 
“I mean, I understand that when the Universe’s temperature cooled down the Higgs field condensed in all volume and scattered across it like a fog. But what and how and - ugh - why?” The student grew impatient and angry in her incomprehension. 
“It’s okay, Lauren. I understand that this subject wasn’t the one you expected while choosing to study biology. And unfortunately it is important, it will help you connect quite a few dots while learning about cell division and bioprocesses. But going back to the Higgs problem.” Doctor cleared her throat and stood near her desk. One hand holding onto the oak surface, drumming her fingers in thought of how to help those young people. 
“Dr YSN," interrupted her thought process some other student. "If the particles are getting stuck why not photons?” They connotated the allegory that Dr YSN wanted to primarily help them with understanding.
“It all comes to the mass of the particle, and just like you all know now - photons do not have mass. They are, according to quantum mechanics, a portion of energy. Yes?”
The whole room nodded their heads, suddenly remembering the lecture from just two days ago. 
“Okay, now back to the Higgs problem. Do you guys have a favourite artist?”
The lecture room erupted with not so hushed whispers about who should tell the name of their idol. Doctor patiently waited for one of the young men to grow courage and speak up. 
“Harry Styles?”
“Perfect!” Exclaimed lecturer. “Now, do we have people here that do not like Mr Styles’ music?”
On the screen overlooking more than enough of the lecture room could be seen a few of raised hands (a definite minority).
“Okay, listen carefully. We’re imagining it now."
Doctor strolled from behind her desk and moved forward as to be closer to her students.
"Let’s say that Mr Harry Styles’ music is our Higgs field. Can you do that? Amazing. Now, when he got his latest album out it spread around the world. Everyone liked it, right?"
Seeing some of the student nodding their heads, she exclaimed, "not right. You," she pointed at the student that previously raised their hands. "You all didn’t know. And that's why you are photons in our experiment. Photons, like we already relearned today, are without mass and in our example they are without love or interest in Mr Styles’ music. Everything is clear for now?”
After getting an approval of nodding heads, YN anyway moved to the blackboard and wrote:
mass = love for Mr Styles' music
photons = not-fans of Mr Styles' music
“Fantastic. Any particle that has some mass, so love for that music, will find itself stuck. You’re stuck because you love that music -” she pointed to the student that had said Harry’s name, “- so you listen to it, analyse and appreciate. The appreciation grows with love so the resistance grows with mass."
appreciation = resistance
"All in all, the current love is the measure of appreciation. So?”
“The current mass of the particle is the measure of resistance that the Higgs field can withstand,” said almost everyone present in the room, making the doctor smile from ear to ear. She had already written it down on the board.
“Excuse me? If Harry’s music is the Higgs field then Harry alone is the Higgs particle - the God Particle, right?” Asked someone from the first row.
“That is correct. Excellent, Madeline! Now, you all understand the basics of the Higgs mechanism and field?” 
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wtf, how did i just understand physics???? im a sociology major
can we talk about how she took her time to explain instead of yelling for not understanding? it's sad that we need to point that out
harry + physics ??? never thought i would experience it
as a physics student - WHY CAN'T I HAVE THIS LECTURER?? - she's soooo good
im 15 and understood this shit, holy moly
it's going viral so HELLO HARRY i know that someone sent it to him and he's sitting under his little blanket, watching it
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scienceandharstyles
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scienceandharstyles I don't know how many of you know but my physics lecturer is literally the 'viral Higgs professor'. Today, after the lecture, she was kind enough to explain to me this awful mathematics (I hate maths) even though it was late (8:30 PM) and she had plans. I just thought I would post about it here (I have her consent for uploading this photo) to show how amazing she is.
view all 3 032 comments
sciencestudent we need more professors like her!
harryupdates I'd love to have this type of lecturers at my Uni...
⤷ scienceandharstyles she really is amazing! after a few examples she wanted me to do to see if i understood the topic, she just flawlessly moved the convo towards my interests, like??? she's so attentive and warm and sweet? i obviously started talking about harry...
hArrysbtch does she know how tiktok is simping over her???
⤷ scienceandharstyles she said that as long as people could take something from those videos, she didn't mind
⤷ hArrysbtch tbh i don't blame those people... she's gorgeous
harrysmylife HARRY LIKED
helloitsharry guys, remember that tiktok account we thought was harrys? maybe it is and he started it just to watch her videos??
⤷ hArrysbtch no way... it makes sense. i checked and that account liked almost all videos that are about dr ysn
⤷ harrysmoustache plus it was created around the time the first video of her started going viral. coincidence? i think not!
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harryupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, scienceandharstyles and 43 492 others
harryupdates HARRY was seen arriving at the Oppenheimer's after party in London!!!
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hArrysbtch him and Nolan are besties. CONFIRMED
harrysmoustache wearing all black??? he knows it's serious
⤷ harrysfan82 did you want him to wear pink?
⤷ harrysmylife harry would be able to pull that off
scienceandharstyles guys, my professor was the consultant on that movie!!!!
⤷ harrysmoustache you mean THE professor? the higgs professor???
⤷ scienceandharstyles yes! she and one of our older professors were providing knowledge for the director and actors on set. Dr YSN was working with Nolan since he started writing the script!
⤷ hArrysbtch i need them together. i need to know everything about them interacting
⤷ harrysmoustache can you imagine harry trying to justify him literally stalking all those videos of her explaining her lectures??
⤷ hArrysbtch ohhhh, id die to be next to them while they were talking!!!!
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harryupdates
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harryupdates HARRY AND DR YN YSN at the after party!
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hArrysbtch NO WAY
hArrysbtch look at his face!!!! he was blushing!!!!
hArrysbtch she's so beautiful 😍
scienceandharstyles the god particle and his creator!
harrysmoustache i need videos to see if he was shy 🤭 if so, i know for sure he has a BIG crush on her
harrysmylife guys there was a video going all over twitter! after he was introduced to dr yn and the other professor, she was like, "i've never thought i would see the god particle in person"
⤷ hArrysbtch oh she was flirting too
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scienceandharstyles
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scienceandharstyles guys, i met harry today....
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scienceandharstyles ok, story time! 1) it was at this very cute cat cafe in Oxford, very close to my campus. they serve those beautiful coffee with drawn cats on the foam!! super cute! but back to the story, i was just petting one of the cats - Murphy - when i heard the bells. and I am super noisy and needed to know who entered the cafe
scienceandharstyles 2) i looked up and it was dr YSN (tiktoks higgs professor but i really don't like calling her that). when she saw me she just immediately walked up to me and asked if she could seat with me while she waited for her friend to arrive. i, of course, agreed (i literally love her).
scienceandharstyles 3) she then helped me with some of my work for uni (maths again...) and while explaining she was so attentive and asked about my day. she asked if i got the tickets for the concert i wanted (i didn't say it was for harry) and when I said I did, she was so happy for me!
scienceandharstyles 4) after about 30 minutes of talking someone else entered the cafe and, you guessed it, it was harry. what's more, he walked up to us because HE WAS THE FRIEND MY RPOFESSOR WAS WAITING FOR. he greeted her with a hug and introduced himself to me. i was so shocked i couldn't form a sentence. dr ysn helped me calm down and said a few words for me.
scienceandharstyles 5) they both then moved to the other table to actually enjoy their time together. but before that harry offered to take the photo with me but only if he could wear my hat!!!! yeah, it was a wild day
hArrysbtch oh, that's first date harry, I'm telling you
harryupdates madeline im so happy for you!
harrysmoustache if he dressed like that for our first date, i wouldn't be able to form a sentence... he looks so handsome
harrysmoustache AND HE HAS THE MOUSTACHE AGAIN, LET'S RAISE MOUSTACHE STANS
harrysmylife the tattoos, the chains, the nail polish, the hat, the bicep????? im dead
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physics_oxford
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physics_oxford Dr YN YSN would like to invite 'anybody that craves knowledge' to the open lecture about Robbert J Oppenheimer's work described in the film Oppenheimer. As the science consultant during the filming, Dr YSN invited the writer and director of the movie - Christopher Nolan, as well as the lead actor - Cillian Murphy. We cannot wait to see you next Friday at the main hall!
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scienceandharstyles Can't wait to attend this!
⤷ yourinstagram Can't wait to see you, Madeline! ❤️
student21 Dr YSN to the rescue to everyone that didn't understand the movie!!!
studen45 it's amazing that more people can experience the brilliance of Dr YSN teaching! Great move from the Dean.
harrysmoustache i think im going there... fingers crossed
student23 CILLIAN???
harrysfan21 i bet that harry's attending it!
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harryupdates
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harryupdates HARRY arriving at Dr YN YSN lecture at Oxford University!
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hArrysbtch who predicted that???
harrysmoustache HARRY AND CILLIAN REUNION
harrysmylife we stay winning, my soldiers
stylesbabie he looks good 🫠
harrysfan82 he's so supportive of dr ysn
hArrysbtch scienceandharstyles were you there???
⤷ scienceandharstyles i was!!! and he literally greeted me by my name?? like, he remembered... After the lecture ended he waited for dr ysn and others from the panel and left with them! even gave me a wave then!
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harryupdates
liked by scienceandharstyles, harrysmylife and 56 492 others
harryupdates HARRY VIA DELETED IG STORIES !!!
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hArrysbtch can you guys imagine what he's posting to his close friends ig stories? I WANT TO BE THERE
harrysmoustache the hugging sticker???
harrysmylife i love how he appreciates dr ysn way of showing that she cares... i love then
scienceandharstyles that was my latest lecture with dr ysn! it was a tough one, im wondering how Harry understood it
⤷ stylesbabie what was it about?
⤷ scienceandharstyles literally, bunch of maths equations that we need to understand and then use in practice!
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yourinstagram
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yourinstagram this is what i'm dealing with instead of checking the papers and giving grades...
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annetwist He's going to break his neck one day!
⤷ yourinstagram please, tell him, Anne. he's not listening to me...
⤷ harrystyles I am well coordinated, thank you.
gemmastyles he has some connections with your students. be careful, ynn
⤷ yourinstagram they all love him! im already loosing!
yourbestfriend glad to see those plants alive
⤷ yourinstagram thank you, im a very good plant mommy
harrystyles who is this dancer? he seems exeptional.
⤷ yourinstagram remember the book about ego i wanted to lend to you?
⤷ jeffazoff ohhhh, burnt to ashes!
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harryupdates
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harryupdates HARRY was seen at the Oxfords library!!
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hArrysbtch oh wattpad girlies open the documents and write about professorry!!!!
harrysmoustache it's giving dark academia
scienceandharstyles guys, he's literally hanging out at our campus. it's so cute!
⤷ harrysmylife is he there often?
⤷ scienceandharstyles yes! a few times a week. he's bringing lunch or coffee to dr ysn office. sometimes they have lunch together somewhere on the campus. he's now treated here just like any other student. most people don't even pay attention to him!
⤷ harryupdates im so glad people don't bother them
⤷ user46 is it even allowed?
⤷ scienceandharstyles if he's doing it, there must be the dean's consent!
stylesbabie he even dresses like those old-school professors!
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yourbestfriend
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yourbestfriend Dr YN YSN reading her graduate's research paper and finding out that they, indeed, included her boyfriend as one of the examples.
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yourinstagram I am a PROUD supervisor!!!
harrystyles I am, indeed, helping science. Will I also get a Nobel prize?
⤷ yourinstagram No, baby. You won't.
⤷ harrystyles :(((
scienceandharstyles ohhhh god!!! my thesis!!!
⤷ yourinstagram I sent you an email with all comments about the paper, Madeline. You are on the right track! ❤️
hArrysbtch she is SOOO BREATHTAKING
⤷ harrystyles agreed.
⤷ hArrysbtch Harry?!
user492 Isn’t it confidential?
⤷ scienceandharstyles Well, they didn't say whose paper was it. I commented that, and I don't mind people knowing. Besides, it will be published soon.
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wired
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wired It's been only 12 hours and our newest video of Dr YN YSN answering your questions has over 2,5M views! Should I (the intern) ask THE boss for PART 2? Link in bio.
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yourinstagram It was an absolute pleasure to film this video! I wouldn't be opposite to doing a part 2 👀
harrystyles Boycotting! There was no God particle!
⤷ yourinstagram So, part 2?
⤷ harrystyles Part 2.
harrystyles The best Doctor out there! 👸🏻
⤷ yourinstagram ❤️❤️
scienceandharstyles our dr is getting famous!!!!
harryupdates Woah, this video singlehandedly is convincing me to change majors!
user49 one of the best videos in the series!
user78 Can't remember seeing someone being this enthusiastic about physics theorems.
yourbestfriend bestie getting famous... i love it
⤷ yourinstagram thanks to you and encouraging me!
⤷ harrystyles *clearing throat*
⤷ yourinstagram and thanks to my wonderful, one and only, best in the whole world boyfriend
⤷ hArrysbtch oh he loves attention!
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a/n: would you like to see more of physicist!reader?
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deepouterspacecandy · 23 days
Text
Ex Machina
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I received so many requests for period sex with Abby. This is a sensitive topic, difficult to write with the intention of fitting a wide array of readers, as our experiences with our bodies are all so different. Anyhow, this is my interpretation of Abby and intimacy during your time of the month. I hope I did it justice. Thank you for reading. 18+ only.
From the moment you crawled out of bed, a stubborn headache has plagued you, a dull throb pulsating behind your eyes. Sunlight floods your apartment, drenching the lush green leaves of all your plants while simultaneously intensifying the pounding in your head.
You glance out into the stadium and spot Abby leading the new recruits through drills on the field below. All week they’ve been running late, and although she’s usually home by now, it seems like today will be another exception.
Perhaps it’s for the best since you’re teetering on the brink of a bad mood.
You realize you should eat the breakfast she’s prepared for you, but your stomach is churning. Exhaustion burdens every inch of your body, as if your bones themselves are weary, the brain fog and bloat leaving you miserable.
While some months are more challenging than others, your period is never a pleasant ordeal. Growing up, the focus was on survival rather than on understanding the intricacies of womanhood and how to navigate them. Now, the demands of being actively involved in the WLF have made it difficult for you to prioritize and manage your health. It doesn’t help that your superiors interpret any actions that undermine your performance or distract you from the objective as a sign of weakness.
In this arena, Abby is an absolute godsend. With her background as a trained medic, and raised by a phenomenal doctor, she is also a highly empathetic partner to you.
Next to your breakfast, Abby has thoughtfully prepared a thermos of ginger tea, its peppery aroma offering respite from your nausea as you drink it down.
Abby’s concern about how much you’ve been pushing yourself has reached a peak, and given how awful you feel, you’re starting to see her point.
This time around, it’s pure luck that your days off align perfectly with your desperate need for them. Counting your blessings, you drag yourself to the shower, hopeful that the hot water will alleviate some of your agony.
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Abby strolls through the door in the late afternoon, and you immediately catch a whiff of citrus and jasmine as she places a vase of fresh flowers on your bedside table. They’re a gesture of peace to make up for being gone so long, but she’ll always find an excuse to bring you fresh flowers. 
“I’m sorry it ran so late today,” she says, letting out an exasperated sigh as she kicks off her boots. “God, what a shitshow. Let’s run away together, yeah?”
“Ask me again in a few days,” you say.
While you dig through your shared drawers, she observes you swapping your pajamas for one of her roomiest shirts. The corners of her mouth lift in a devilish grin, giving her an air of playful wickedness.
“Still feeling rough?” she asks, plunking herself onto your bed.
“I think it’s worse this time around,” you explain, your hands cradling your sore stomach, finding comfort in the soft fabric against your skin. “Everything aches, and I’m so bloated. It really sucks.”
“Well, you look beautiful,” Abby says.
You go the extra mile to give her the most over-the-top eye roll you can manage. She’s a sweetheart, but her words can’t mask the overwhelming sense of detachment you feel from your body, intensifying your self-doubt.
“I’m serious,” she says, reaching out to pull you closer. “Have I ever lied to you?”
You can’t recall a time when she’s made you doubt her—the integrity of this woman is unwavering. Her straightforwardness knows no bounds, often leaving others taken aback. It is ultimately one of the traits you admire the most in her.
“I don’t feel very beautiful, I guess.”
Abby’s fingertips glide down the back of your thighs, tickling the sensitive skin behind your knees, before trailing back up to toy with the hem of your shirt. Her shirt, technically speaking.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks.
Her question carries a familiar undertone, one you’ve been meaning to address for a while now.
During Abby’s cycle, her sexual desire intensifies to an unprecedented level, and she’s insatiable.
One night, after your shift let out early, you walked in on her. The blonde wisps of hair framing her face were curled with sweat as she touched herself under a blanket on the couch. You recall vividly her delirious gaze, head tilted back on the plush armrest as she rode the waves of her pleasure, filling your apartment with the sweetest sounds.
It was in the early phases of your relationship, and you were so surprised when you entered the room that you hesitated—torn between quietly leaving to let her finish or offering to help her. Luckily, she decided on your behalf.
Instead of panicking and hurriedly covering up her deed, Abby continued without missing a beat—beckoning you to join her. It was one of the most sensual experiences of your life, and the memory of it still makes your heart race.
But for you, it’s different.
It’s a constant battle of messiness, discomfort, and frustration. When your hormones are fluctuating and you feel a spike of arousal, the thought of Abby seeing you in that state halts your excitement.
In the past, she mentioned how her lifestyle influences her body’s bleeding patterns. She attributes her active lifestyle and high stress levels to a lighter flow. But she also understands that certain conditions are beyond control for many women, affecting their relationship with their cycle and the way their body reacts to it.
“How the heck do you do it?” you ask, your fingers connecting with hers as you delicately flip her hands over to trace the deep lines etched on her palm. “You get so confident.”
Every day, without fail, you find yourself entranced by the beauty of her ethereal blue eyes as she seems to peer directly into your soul. There’s a special intimacy in truly knowing someone, beyond the flaws and all the fears.
She has a keen sense of what you’re grappling with, often before you can articulate it.
Her brow quirks as she rakes her teeth over her pouty bottom lip.
“Horny, you mean?” she smirks.
“Is that what it is for you?”
“Not always,” she explains, as her fingers move to brush against the front of your thighs, igniting a tingling warmth between them. “But I listen to what my body tells me. It’s how I heal.”
“What does your body tell you?” you ask.
“It depends,” she says, looking up at you through her soft lashes. “Sometimes it tells me to rest—other times, I need a little more than that. But I have bad days, too.”
You reflect on your relationship with your body and how Abby’s presence has transformed your self-perception over the years. She empowers you to find security in your own skin, even when you’re clawing the walls of your existence.  
Even on the toughest days to practice self-love, she’s right there by your side, offering that extra boost to keep you going.
“It doesn’t gross you out, the thought of touching me when I’m like this?”
Abby lets out a surprised chuckle, gently placing her hands on your hips for a reassuring squeeze.
“Baby,” she says with an air of certainty. “There’s nothing you can do that would ever disgust me. This just reminds me how much of a badass you are. I’m a pretty big fan, if you haven’t noticed.”
You nod in acceptance as your fingers weave into her hair, gently tugging the long braid that rests on the nape of her neck. She fixes her busy gaze on you, brimming with an unmistakable and sincere affection, patiently awaiting your next move.
“It fucking hurts,” you say.
“Inside?” she asks.
“Everywhere,” you whisper.
Her lips meet the swollen part of your stomach as she leans forward, pressing kisses from your belly button to your hips. Her methodical nature shines through, ensuring she leaves no tender spot untouched.
When she glances up at you again, her eyes are heavy with hunger.
“Do you want me to make it better?”
It’s a lot to consider, and she watches you closely, anticipating your reaction as you try to process it all. If it bothers you, it will surely bother her, too—but can the reverse be true? If you have a pleasant experience, is it possible that Abby will also have a good time?
“Can we sleep on it?” you ask. “I’m just, you know��worried, I guess.”
Abby invites you to sit on her lap and when you oblige, she snuggles into the curve of your neck, sighing happily.
“Of course we can.”
Noticing your musing, she leans back to get a solid look at you. When your eyes meet, she crinkles her nose, a silent, impish signal she frequently uses to let you know she’s with you, even from across the room.
“What’s going on in that pretty head, huh?” she asks.
“I’m just glad you’re wearing dark pants right now,” you snort. “This cup thingy you got for me is working okay, though.”
“Well, thank God for that!” she huffs. “What would I ever do with bloodstains on my pants—can you imagine? Not this girl.”
“You’re on a roll today, aren’t you?”
Abby’s tongue darts out, lingering at the corner of her mouth until you dig your fingers into the ticklish spot at the small of her back, causing her to squirm with laughter. She quickly unravels under your ministrations, her voice transforming into something high and wild as she reprimands you through wheezing breaths.
“See, I warned you about teaching me how to lift weights!” you giggle, your grip on her wrists unforgiving as you pin her hands behind her. “Game over, Anderson.”
“You think so?” she chuckles breathlessly. “Hey—can I show you something?”
“You can try!”
Abby regains control of her hands and flips you onto your back with such ease it renders you utterly defenseless.
“Now what?” she asks.
She has you trapped, pressing your body and hands firmly against the mattress, careful to avoid your abdomen. It gives you an advantage, an edge to steal the upper hand, and with a sudden burst of energy, you buck into her, entangling your legs with hers in a fierce grapple. By the end of your wrestling match, your muscles burn from exertion, your focus shifting solely to the simmer of adrenaline working its way down your spine.
You leave behind any awareness of your physical state or appearance in favour of being in her arms, and she’s delighted to have you there.
Her rugged hands rest on your belly, rising and falling in sync with your breathing, and you’re weightless. The pain that had been radiating at your core all day has subsided, the niggling headache lifting from your temples as Abby works out the tension at the base of your skull with her fingertips.
Prominent veins pulse along her powerful arms in thick blue vines and as you trace them, her nostrils flare. The most innate manifestation of life and simply being alive underneath your touch.
“Let’s grab some dinner, yeah?” Abby pants, dropping a playful, squeaking kiss between your brows. “I’m starved. I need sustenance.”
“What else is new?” you tease. “You’re my God and my freaking machine.”
“Quit beating me up then,” she groans, a smile dancing on her lips. “If you build up my appetite, it’s only fair to replenish me. Do you want me to waste away or what?”
“Listen to you!”
She turns her face away, attempting to hide her jubilance.
“Bullying me—using up all my energy,” she says, jutting out her bottom lip. “Poor Abby is what they all say. You should hear them!”
“You literally started it,” you blurt. “I’m so done with you.”
Before you can roll off the bed, she quickly snatches you up and buries herself against your chest. Trying to suppress your triumph, a whirlwind of flutters spins between your ribs, like a miniature tornado poised to absorb everything in its path.
“Please don’t ever be done with me,” Abby murmurs. “Okay?”
Tendrils of soft hair spill out from her braid, and you can’t resist the urge to twist the golden threads around your finger, stroking her freckled shoulders with your other hand.
“Forever is a long time,” you murmur.
“It sure doesn’t feel like it,” she says, wrapping herself around you.
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After months of waiting, the chow hall is finally serving your favourite meal, and you’re in a state of pure bliss as you savour it with your friends and comrades.
Manny is on his grind, recounting the funniest stories he can think of, causing uproarious laughter and taking harmless jabs at everyone at the table. Among her squad, Abby truly shines, earning admiration for her ability to treat everyone as equals, regardless of her superior position.
She is a leader in the field, but at home, she’s everyone’s trusted friend.
As you reminisce about a time before you knew her, the thought of living without the familiar scent of pine soap and the comforting feeling of her arms around you while you sleep becomes hazy and indistinct. The sensation of her breath against your neck as you wake up each morning is a treasured gift that you never want to lose sight of.  
Under the table, you give Abby’s knee a gentle squeeze. She instinctively laces her fingers with yours, fully focused on Manny’s irrational fear of a girl storing her toothbrush in his apartment.
Only when your hand glides up her thigh does she split her focus, giving you a knowing sidelong glance.
Abby subtly adjusts herself to accommodate you, widening the space between her legs as the edges of her ear takes on the prettiest pink hue.
You toy with the button on her cargo pants, trailing your fingernail along the zipper, and despite her best efforts to focus on the surrounding conversations, she’s fading fast. Absentmindedly nibbling at the dry patches on her lip, she blinks with a slightly delayed rhythm, absorbed by your attention.  
With each seductive surge, the intensity of your pain subsides, smoothing out its sharp edges.
“It’s your fault,” Manny explains, addressing Abby directly, the tines of his fork slicing the air. “I never had these problems when you were my roommate.”
Foreseeing a mental showdown, you slowly retreat to your lap, but Abby immediately tugs your hand back.
You know precisely what is going through her mind.
“Don’t blame your mommy issues on me, Alvarez,” Abby retorts. “Shit or get off the pot.”
Your fingers scratch a torturous path across her hard thigh, only stopping to pay special attention to the rigid seam of her pants before traveling back to her knee. Abby clears her throat and straightens up, indicating that she’s about three seconds away from a polite excuse to refuse dessert and propose an early night.
You beat her to the punch by deftly gathering your trays, offering a nod of farewell to everyone in the room and letting your girl know it’s time for her to take you to bed.
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Rain trickles in silver ribbons along the panoramic windows of your apartment, flashes of lightning illuminating the night sky as the occasional rumble of thunder punctuates a mounting storm. Abby places candles on every tabletop and surface, creating a dim, flickering glow in anticipation of a possible power outage.
The crackling hiss of each match strike pulls you deeper into a state of relaxation.
She abandons the matchbox and, in one fluid motion, lifts her sweater up and over her head, tossing it onto the rocking chair in your reading nook.
Her back is a tapestry of sculpted muscles and you’re eager to feel them twitch and flex. It’s time to put an end to the silence that has been lingering between you since dinner.
“Abby?”
She hums, spinning around to face you, her expression lifting with an affectionate smile.
“What’s up?” she asks.
“I trust you.”
All traces of her tough exterior vanish as her determined strides carry her across the room, closing the distance between you. It’s a compliment that you know she will hold in high regard.
“I’m glad,” she whispers. “You’re always safe with me, okay?”
Abby’s eyes are a fragment of the ocean, a world of mystery and depth pulling you in. Her touch is gentle as she cups your jaw, delicately tilting your chin toward hers.
“I mean it,” she says.
The moment your lips meet, the taste of her intoxicates you, the room a dizzy blur of raindrops and candlelight. Her eager hands greedily explore the curves of your body, and the languid pace is torment. Taking her lower lip between your teeth, you suck her gently into your mouth, rocking against her for relief.
“Please let me take care of you,” Abby says.
You guide her hand between your legs, giving her the freedom to ease your pain. The surface is so slick that her fingers glide over your smooth folds, circling your swollen clit until you’re whimpering against her throat.
“Fuck, you feel good,” she whines. “You’re so wet, I can’t even take it.”
“Keep this up and I won’t last long,” you giggle.
Abby lifts you and sets you down on the bed, and that’s when you see it for the first time. Faint streaks of you staining her fingertips.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say.
“Look at me,” Abby murmurs, trailing kisses up your thigh. “You are so incredibly sexy like this.”
169 notes · View notes
moonydustx · 12 days
Note
Law or Zoro (maybe both separately 🙇‍♀️?) with their s/o secretly being a kunoichi 🤭
Thank u 🙏
Hi Hi! I'll start with: I'm sorry. I didn't know much about the term and I tried to research it, but to be honest, I don't think I got the best of it. I used the point of view in which the character actually became an ally. Maybe I got a little carried away with Law.
After all, how can you disappoint them? (I mean, look at these two happy just seeing Raizo)
requests | one piece masterlist
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Zoro
Warnings: blood, use of swords, the two like each other but are unable to deal with it maturely.
"Leaving friendship aside" you shouted, dodging the blow. "You're too slow, Zoro."
" What did you say?" He tried to attack you again, but it only took a few steps for you to dodge his attacks. "What the hell!"
"I said: slow." You stopped the sword with your forearm, turning it and letting it rest against the swordsman's skin. "And sloppy."
"How can you do that?"
"A lady doesn't tell your secrets." You laughed, letting him go.
The sun streamed through the crow's nest windows, illuminating the entire space.
Occasionally you and the swordsman would take time out to train. Your excuse was always that you needed to improve your skills and his was that he needed a punching bag. You knew there was a lot behind it - the hours wasted together, the accidental skin-to-skin touches. Those workouts were your favorite part of your schedule.
A crash caught the two of you's attention as well as the uneven rocking and some screams coming from beneath you.
"We are being attacked." Zoro looked out the small window seeing the reason for the small chaos that had formed. "Stay here."
He disappeared from your field of vision in a few seconds. You were determined to follow his orders, not that you owed any kind of obligation, but returning to fight seemed like a distant choice.
Your eyes narrowed at the edge of the window, trying to understand the scale of what was happening. Three pirate ships surrounded the Sunny, each with a flag. Probably a group has allied together to try to overthrow you. Ignoring it no longer seemed like an option.
You practically jumped halfway down the stairs, finding the ship full of enemies. Everyone fought as best they could, but the number of people interested in taking down the Straw Hats seemed too much for you.
Using the same technique you had used in previous training, you dodged each attack, trying to take as little damage as possible. On the other side, you saw one of the men suddenly throw Nami's Clima-tact stick away. Your eyes quickly searched for the best and closest alternative within your reach.
Dodging two guys, you didn't bother asking for permission to take out the third sword that Zoro still kept in its sheath, only seeing him look at you sideways without much room to question.
Before the bullet hit Nami, you positioned the katana blade and watched the fragment turn into two. Ignoring your friend's screams, you threw blows at the first man who had attacked her. A cut in the middle of the chest was enough to knock him down and make room for other enemies to find you.
The sharp blade paraded across the deck of the Sunny, arms fell around you, enemy blood splashed on your clothes and the floor. The presence of the other companions was a memory in the fog, you just needed to help everyone get rid of the little problem. Losing your balance when you saw the ship accelerate in the opposite direction to the enemy ship, it wasn't long before you were just contemplating the blue horizon in front of you.
The absolute silence took a few seconds to bother you until you realized what it was. All your companions looked at you curiously, probably the blood that dripped from the katana and that also stained your clothes was what attracted most of their attention.
The words came to the tip of your tongue and died for a few moments, you were fully aware that you owed your friends satisfaction, it was just difficult to bring the story to light.
"Since when did you know how to do that?" Nami was the first to ask, without any type of ceremony.
"There's been a good, good time."
"But you weren't just an expert in languages, I mean, for someone who has their face buried in books translating those strange things, you know your way around a katana very well." Usopp pointed out, making clear all the curiosity - which was probably in the others' minds.
"I was trained for a long time, longer than I would have liked." you declared, walking to the edge of the ship and leaning against it.
The crew's swordsman did the same, stopping next to you and the others practically circled you. Your hand nervously squeezed the blunt end of the sword in your hand.
"I was taught to infiltrate, to go unnoticed, to kill. I never had much of a choice in the meantime."
"And how did you end up here?" Chopper asked almost adorably, his curiosity leaning more toward admiration than anything else.
"I had a mission." your eyes found Robin in the background. "I needed to infiltrate and take Robin away from here, a high price for someone with high qualifications."
"This is getting interesting." the archaeologist smiled almost understandingly. For some reason you seemed to have given up on the plan and she had already found herself in a similar position. "What made you stop?"
"You, all of you." the answer sounded obvious coming from you. "You all welcomed me so well, I felt like part of a family. So I never answered the calls again and decided to stay here, to be honest, if I had any other choice I wouldn't have done all this." you gestured towards the blood on your clothes. "I understand if you want me to leave, a secret this big..."
"No." Luffy responded immediately. "You're not going to leave."
"But..."
"The captain decided, you're still a Straw Hat." Sanji completed, leaving room for a brief drag on his cigarette. "And with all that blood you're still beautiful."
"Shut up idiot" Zoro grumbled. "But I agree with Luffy, it's decided, you stay. Now everyone, let's get these scraps out of here." the man pointed to the downed enemies.
Without much desire to continue arguing, one by one you saw your companions move away and begin to clean the deck. Zoro however remained there, standing a few meters away.
"I bet you hate me for my petty theft." You turned to him.
"Are you feeling good?" His calm voice broke your expectations. "You didn't seem comfortable telling all that."
"It's a past that I wanted to leave behind, you know? Being a linguist is much cooler than having to scrub clothes dirty with enemy remains, but now I don't have much choice."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I've already proven that I can fight, I believe that in the next battles it won't make much sense for me to try to escape." a dejected smile crossed your lips as you approached him.
"Only if you want." Zoro replied as you parked yourself in front of him, your feet aligned with his. "If you want to fight, I'll be happy to help you get a katana. If you want to continue just being you, I promise I have enough strength and swords for both of us."
The promise implicit in his voice gave you goosebumps, as well as warming your cheeks in a certain shyness.
"And leaving friendship aside?" he started and you just nodded. "You look beautiful using my katana to take out idiots."
"Leaving friendship aside..." you replied, taking the opportunity to reduce the small space between you.
Without taking your eyes off Zoro's eyes, you slid the sword back into his sheath, completing the trio that now rested after the battle.
"I'd love to be able to do both. Maybe you can help me." your faces were just a short distance away, ignoring the entire world around you.
"Meet me tonight, upstairs. I think we can take some time to train."
"You two make this mess, come help!" Nami's scream broke you both out of your little trance, but the promise still hung in the air.
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Law
Warnings: cute, brief hint of something hotter at the end, pre-established relationship. Law is a super nerd in this one.
Something was out of place. Something felt like it was about to go wrong, you just didn't know what. Following the corridors of the submarine, you made a point of looking room by room, corner by corner, in search of what you didn't even know what you were looking for. The Polar Tang, despite being moored on an island, was occupied by all the crew. Almost all, the captain was absent.
"Bepo?" you entered the room he was in, hitting the switch sharply.
With nightfall and no longer sailing, there weren't many tasks left to be carried out inside Polar Tang. The bear - who was apparently taking a brief nap - rubbed his eyes, trying to understand where the call was coming from.
"Sorry to wake you up. Did you have any news from the captain?"
"He just said he was going to leave for a few hours and that if possible, we would be ready to leave." If it weren't for the worry you would definitely be teasing Bepo and his habit of making mini roars instead of yawns.
"Taking a nap is being ready, mister furry?" the bear's grumbling filled the room. "I don't know Bepo, I have a bad feeling."
"About the captain?" he rose to his feet, more alert than before. "He said he had things to sort out."
"I don't know." you murmured, thinking about possibilities, perhaps the worst possible ones echoed in your mind. "From what I remember, Law was alone for a long time before he went, am I right?"
"Yes! He said he needed to focus on something."
"Okay, let's go through his desk."
Papers hung on the wall, notes spread out on the table, a large web connected the information he had gathered so far about Doflamingo. Occupying his chair, you didn't hesitate to turn over some pages, finding names and positions written down and a map of the island. An X marking a specific point next to a photo attracted your gaze, making you search your own memories to understand the familiarity with such a situation.
"Flander..." you brought the photo of the man with white hair and a black suit closer. You remembered the man but even so, your brain burned trying to remember why and it gave you a bad feeling.
"Do you know him?" "An idiot tycoon who's also a mobster. Last time I bumped into him it was to recover a stolen devil fruit. He craves power, so he uses the black market to sell them and also use... oh, shit!"
"What happened?" the bear tried to keep up with you as you ran back to your room, thankful to find it empty.
"Get everything ready for us to escape. Also prepare the defenses." you pulled out a large hidden brown box. "Law may have been ambushed."
In other situations you would even ask him to leave, but while the bear screamed and ran from side to side you didn't hesitate to throw your overalls and in seconds put on the suit. The minutes lost in getting dressed would certainly be recovered with help in camouflaging.
"Wait, what is this?"
"No questions Bepo! Go now!"
You adjusted the cloth that covered part of your face. Ignoring the curious stares, you crossed Polar Tang in seconds, finding a full moon shining all over the pier that night. That costume, that story, you had chosen to leave behind, but the thought of someone hurting your captain was too much for you to ignore.
Following through the trees it didn't take long to find Flander's compound. Trying to avoid the presence of the security guards, you followed their movement pattern, finding a small gap to climb onto the first floor of roofs. Even though the rooms that were within reach of your eyes seemed empty, you still chose to go outside. Leaning on the gutter and avoiding any noise as much as possible, you didn't have much difficulty finding the next floor.
This time, coming across some lights on in the indoor area, you could feel closer to your goal. Using the noise of voices and the distraction to your advantage, you managed to peek inside the room.
Flander was sitting in one of the chairs, three huge men accompanied him and Law was sitting on the floor. A trickle of blood ran from his eyebrow and his hands were tied together. You hated being right in your suspicions.
Using the point of illumination to your advantage, you opted for the lack of it, throwing your dagger towards the lamp. The sound of breaking glass attracted the attention of everyone there - including Law.
"Where did that come from?" one of the men bent down picking up the small gray object.
The moonlight might still be an advantage for them, but it wouldn't be a problem for you. Rolling into the window, you took advantage of having fallen in a crouch to cut the ankle of the first man within your reach and joining a trip, he soon found the ground.
The other two gathered around you and using the ratio of size to speed, you managed to dodge them, reaching Flander and putting your other dagger through his leg, leaving it stuck between his thigh and the upholstery of the expensive bench he was sitting on. One of the other men managed to hit you, making you lose your balance, but it only took a few kicks and both he and the other man were on the ground.
"Who are you?" Flanders shouted, probably not only trying to clear the doubt but also trying to get the attention of more henchmen.
Before he could continue shouting, you slammed his head against the expensive wooden table in front of the man.
"Cap... Trafalgar." you corrected yourself almost at the last second. "Do you know where your handcuff keys are?"
"In my left pocket." your eyes - which were one of the few things discovered on your face looked in pure disbelief at him. "I knew he would try to trick me, I changed all the handcuffs here to regular versions."
"I do not believe that." despite the relief in knowing that in a way, he already knew what awaited him, it didn't stop you from staying alert.
"You're Shadow Moon, right? The konoichi who helps Sora in magazine 147 of the regular story. From Yushe Island?" He stood up, approaching the table and picking up a small brown notebook, leafing through it quickly. "Am I right, Shadow Moon?"
"Law, we have time to sort this out later." you pulled the cloth away, revealing your face. "Is this the only notebook you need?"
"Are you Sora's Shadow Moon from the Yushe Islands?" for the first time you saw Law's voice rise a few decibels in pure surprise. A slightly more serious version of a child who just got the doll he always wanted. "You?"
"We really can... Shit!" you felt your arm burn as more men appeared in your field of vision. Before you could prepare to fight, the blue dome enveloped you and the bodies lying in the room were replaced by the trees of the island's small forest, the same one that had helped you camouflage your arrival.
"Well, it was a graze." you checked your own arm and it didn't take long for Law to take the job for himself.
"Yes, you almost don't need stitches. A bandage should do the trick, Shadow Moon."
"Are you really going to call me that all night?" Law decided to back off the subject when he noticed the irritation in your voice, but you knew the subject wouldn't remain quiet for long. "When we arrive at Polar Tang, I'll explain. I've already got everyone ready for us to set sail."
You were never so happy to be back in the little metal cocoon, or at least that was the affectionate way you called the yellow submarine. After reassuring everyone, you followed Law to his room, knowing that he must have doubts about everything that happened.
"How did you know I was there?" he asked as soon as you slammed the door behind you. Taking advantage of the small peace to catch your breath, you leaned against the wall.
"I had a strange feeling and when I found Flander's photo, I knew something was wrong. I already knew his history with Devil Fruit users."
"I understood." Law seemed distracted by something on his stand. "I knew he would try to catch me, I wanted to make the most of my time to extract information."
"Next time, please let your girlfriend know." you murmured, crossing your arms and watching him walk towards you. "No way."
Law placed a small doll next to you and you knew what it was without even looking.
"Shadow Moon, I knew it!"
"I'm sorry I kept this from you." You asked and saw him nod. The same hand that held the action figure pulled you closer to the bed.
"How did you end up in Sora?" he sat down, giving you space to sit next to him or in it.
"Long story short, I helped one of the comic's editors, it was his way of thanking me." Law's eyes sparkled as you adjusted yourself over his hips.
"My girlfriend is Shadow Moon. Do you have any idea how badass that is?" he again looked at the doll and placed it aside. "Although you look a lot hotter in the real version."
"Is this serious? I took down several idiots at once to save you and you're impressed by this?" You pointed to your own clothes.
"This? You mean the legendary Shadow Moon responsible for taking down enemy armies and who can disappear into the shadows?" Your loud laugh also brought a light laugh from Law. "Shadow Moon herself came to save me. Where were you hiding all this?"
"Kind of wanted to put that story behind me." you bent down and pushed him against the bed, using the gap to lay on his chest. Just a few hours apart along with the adrenaline in your body made you miss Law's contact. "It was really lucky they left my suit in Sabaody."
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay." Noticing the hesitation in your voice, Law tried to steer you away from that subject. But his presence was comforting, it was as if the old memories were just that: things left behind.
"After my parents died, these women took me in. They gave me a home, food, but in return they trained me. They did this with different types of girls."
"You know why?"
"A lot of us went on missions for them, but the purpose was always to teach us how to defend ourselves." You smiled when you felt his fingers caress your skin, encouraging you to keep talking.
"I started to stand out, taking down many of the enemies until the mission where they discovered me infiltrated. I was pretending to be a doctor for one of the pirates who stole them."
"So that's why you already knew how to deal with everything here."
"Exactly, it was almost like a vocation, or destiny" a provocative smile dared to cross your lips, soon disappearing. "After finding out, they locked me up for a while. When they got tired of my presence, they sold me into slavery."
"You're lucky that a guy with a good heart was there, right?" Law's cynicism was something almost immersed in him. You quickly took the man's lips.
"They say he was very handsome." you murmured, catching his kisses.
"Babe, please." his tone was strangled when he felt your hips press against his. "But it's okay if you say no..."
"Trafalgar!" You lightly patted his shoulder when you saw him blush - like you hadn't seen in the time you were together. The way his gaze roamed your body made it clear what he wanted. "Okay, the costumes are still on my body."
"Hm.. my beautiful little konoichi." he turned you over on the bed, pinning you beneath him. "This time you won't be able to hide."
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atlasofthestaars · 7 months
Text
[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .001
Note: Will use events from Mk9-11 + Aftermath. I am changing canon for some characters to fit the story. Changing canon in general for MK1, so at some point I will add in scenes not in the main story and probably will diverge from it in the end. Some character personality changes, not major, but enough to add depth. Slight character dynamic changes (Mostly Lin Kuei, so the trio feel slightly closer as a whole)
Also excuse the small exposition dump that happens through the chapter, it was needed to set up plot points in the future, so in the future we can get to those juicy character interactions easier!
LOVE INTERESTS: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, Rain
Also on AO3: NEW ERA
part two
FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO DOESN'T REMEMBER
Memories are fickle things. 
Awakening in the middle of a field, you heard the buzzing of bugs, and the grass beside you moved as a creature scurried past. Your head hurt, and a fog settled in your mind as if it were blocking something. You sat up slowly, noting the moonlight shining down on the area around you.
You looked down at your hands. It was odd, it felt like you were familiar with it, yet at the same time it felt all too foreign to you. You wiggled your toes, feeling the grass brush against them to remind you that they existed. 
Where were you?
Swallowing any dread you felt building up, you stood up wearily. Your body swayed as you got up, almost stumbling into the grass once more. The area around felt devoid of humans, undisturbed nature spreading far. It was beautiful and breathtaking, but it only soothed you for a moment before panic began to seep back in again.
Where were you?
In the distance was a soft light. A flame? Perhaps. You dragged your feet as you walked towards it. You’d rather go discover whatever that was then stick around being lost wherever you had woken up. 
Why were you there in the first place? 
Fear was crawling down your back at the inability to answer the nagging questions within your head. Shaking it off, you continued on. The closer you got, the better you could identify where the flame was from. 
A temple of sorts?
It had a dragon motif from what you could see, and it was constructed mainly from wood and stone. Red shingles, or at least you assumed it was…it was hard to see in the moonlight, lined the rooftops of the temple ahead. The tree leaves even seemed to be red. There were multiple buildings, one being a tall tower, and a few smaller buildings. The flame, which was quite large from what you could see, was lit in a pavilion of sorts.
Your mind throbbed as a vague memory of a temple floating in the sky appeared in your mind. But this wasn’t that same temple. Not at all. Why were you thinking of that?
Soon enough, you found yourself at the entrance of the area, marveling at the architecture and the beauty of the area up close. How wonderful. Eventually, you spotted two figures walking towards you. 
The first thing you noticed was their glowing blue eyes.
Not knowing what to do, you stood there. Although you felt a pit of dread build up in your stomach as they approached, you stood unwavering. You grimaced, not at the sight of them, but at how the figures coming closer seemed to intensify a dull throb that had been building up in the back of your head.
Silly as it was, were they the cause of your headache? Of the fog in your head that seemed to block out any memories you tried to pry from your mind? 
You watched as the two figures, that you could now identify as men, approached. You could read a vague sense of concern on one of their faces, and the other held a sense of shock on his. They walked over a bridge, stopping at the top as if to create a sense of height. You looked up at them, your will not wavering despite the dread that was building in your stomach.
Your headache, why was it hurting so much?
You watched as one of them held out his hands, forming one a fist connecting to his palm. He smiled at you. It felt warm. The other nodded his head in acknowledgement, but you could see the small smile he had as well. You stumbled as your headache turned into a sharp pain, as if someone had just stabbed your head. Gasping, you stumbled forward. 
The man who had been presenting his hands grabbed you to steady you, and you noted the strange sense of familiarity as he did so. His wrapped hands were firm as he helped you right yourself. You looked up into his eyes, and without thinking, a name popped into your head.
“Liu Kang?”
The dread you felt in your stomach turned into fear as the man’s eyes widened, and the vague shock that had been on his face before was now on full display. He glanced over to his companion who held the same look of shock before they both looked down at you, almost accusingly.
“How did you know that?”
That was years ago.
Shortly after the shock had worn off, you had been escorted into the fire temple. They gave you a place to rest for the night, but you could hear the whispers of Liu Kang and Geras as they walked away. What they were discussing, you weren’t certain.
You could hear the concerned tone in their voice loud and clear despite that.
The next morning in what was perhaps the politest interrogation ever, it was revealed that you had a lack of memories.
Kind of.
You had memories, or at least you thought so, but they were all jumbled up in your head. They felt wrong, and foreign and they didn’t match up with what you were seeing. After all, your mind was telling you the man who was interrogating you was Liu Kang…but it was not the same mortal man that popped into your mind. 
You also eventually recognized Geras, which seemed to alarm the two even more, even if they were subtle about it. Eventually, after long deliberation with each other, Liu Kang eventually came up to you and offered you a place to stay at the fire temple due to your lack of memory and residence.
You were relieved to have a place to rest and stay, even if you had a nagging feeling that the offer was a disguised excuse to keep a close eye on you.
You supposed that was fair.
Eventually, the memories you had came back slowly over the years, and you confided in Liu Kang about them. This led to an eventual friendship with the god as you unraveled the strange situation that you were in. The man, though cordial, had been wary at first of you. You thought that was reasonable. A random stranger showing up in rags and recognizing you without introduction?
That was suspicious for certain, you could not blame the fire god for his caution. Especially since he proclaimed himself to be the Protector of Earthrealm, you could have easily been a threat.
Thankfully, you were not. Or at least, he seemed to deem that you were not. Although you had a jumbled mess of mismatching memories, the two of you had concluded that the memories you did have were visions of sorts, of other realities, and that the memories you used to have were gone. 
Visions of other worlds traded for the memories of your past. That’s what he told you, anyways. You had a sinking feeling that wasn’t quite true, and that was the biggest secret you held from Liu Kang. After all, the more memories you regained, the less it felt that they were random visions. 
They felt like a past life…and maybe they were. You weren’t certain yet. You had a nagging feeling there were many memories left to unlock.
The guilt of hiding this doubt, this secret, was immense at first. Ignoring the fact that you were lying to a god, you were concealing doubts from a man who had offered you shelter and food.
Eventually the guilt died down into near nothingness, but there was still a twinge of guilt every time you lied about it.
Aside from that, you rediscovered abilities that you had not realized you had. 
Shapeshifting into animals. You could transform your whole body into creatures, or parts of them. It was a helpful power, you found. You also seemed to have some sort of muscle memory of fighting skills. Lord Liu Kang had once offered to train you, and to both of your surprise, you were quite skilled.
Rusty at first, but it was obvious your body knew how to fight. It was nothing that years, or in all honesty, months could not fix.
Another ability you realized after a few years was how your body did not seem to age. Or at least, not in the same way humans did. At first, the monks seemed to chalk it up to good genetics, complimenting on how you seemed to keep your youth. However, as more years passed, whispers of magic arose.
Concerned with the strange state of your body, you confided in the fire god. Liu Kang suggested that your body was one that lived longer, perhaps of one that was not native to Earth, or Earthrealm as he called it…an edenian, perhaps? He explained the realm of Outworld, and the existence of the realms in general. He had once explained it much before, along with some monks, but not to the historical extent he had given you at that time.
Through these explanations, you remembered Outworld much more clearly, but the memories of Outworld were once again inconsistent with the world he described.
The Outworld you knew had been run by a tyrant before it was passed to an heir that had been overthrown. It was war hungry, and not at all pretty as he described. Liu Kang offered that, perhaps, when the Mortal Kombat tournament rolled around in a few years, you could join him and the champions he would bring to Outworld.
You agreed, of course. Maybe that realm was key to unlocking more memories, and more explanations. Even though you cherished the Fire Temple, a place you had learned to call home, you now had a purpose going forward.
Go to Outworld to seek the rest of your memories.
And now, you were here, enjoying another peaceful morning in the Fire Temple.
Staring out from the pavilion, you inhaled deeply as you took in the sunrise. You could never tire of the beautiful view. Your ears picked up the soft sound of someone walking towards you, and you turned around, already familiar with who it was. 
“Hello, Liu Kang.” You greeted, a smile on your face as you nodded towards the fire god. The fire god sent you a soft smile in return as he walked up to be by your side. Due to your memories of a younger, mortal Liu Kang that had popped up so often at first, you had taken up a nasty habit of addressing him casually. You tried to fix this, but he had permitted you to address him casually in private.
It felt like a strange honor.
He greeted you, your name rolling off his tongue in a familiar way as his hands settled on the railing much like yours were. It was common for the two of you to meet up here at sunrise, to indulge in the simple yet breathtaking view. It was a tradition from years ago.
“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Liu Kang inquired, much like he did nearly every morning. He gazed at the horizon with a sense of serenity and peace before his glowing eyes landed on you. With a chuckle you turned your gaze to the horizon he had been staring at previously.
“It is, just like it is every morning.” You mused, watching as the sky lightened, the darkness making way for the pretty light blue hues as a pink and orange color settled over the horizon. Your fingers tapped the wood as you hummed, remembering that something special was happening today. “Today we’re going to the village of Fengjian, correct?” You inquired, a surge of excitement buzzing through you.
You had been around the world here and there over the years to accompany Liu Kang and sometimes even the Lin Kuei, but it had been a while since your last venture. 
“Correct, Madam Bo said two of her trainees were ready for the exam scenario, and today we're going to observe.” Liu Kang said, nodding as he confirmed the plans he had told you about two weeks ago. You noted how he kept his gaze intent on you, as if analyzing your reaction. You could not hold back the smile on your lips.
“Excellent, it’s been forever since I’ve had Madam Bo’s cooking.” You commented, remembering just how delicious the older woman’s cooking was. You were nearly drooling at the thought of it. Not only that, but Madam Bo was someone you valued as well.
Whenever you saw her, you were reminded of a fatherly figure who you hazily remembered who drunk a lot of alcohol. It was odd, but she too must have sensed the connection, as she took you in as if you were a child of her own ever since she met you. You wished you could go out to see her more.
You opened your mouth to speak, but you heard the faintest of footsteps. Reflexively, you transformed your ears into those of bats and craned them around to hone in on the sound. You tilted your head as you focused before you turned to look at Liu Kang, ears turning back to normal.
“I thought the Lin Kuei were to come later?” You inquired, revealing that you were now aware of their presence. You heard some muttering before the three assassins revealed themselves. Sub Zero, Scorpion, and Smoke. Three of the Lin Kuei you had grown closest to during your association with Liu Kang.
“That was the plan, but we decided to meet up earlier to discuss the plan as we shall leave earlier to get in position to observe.” Liu Kang explained. The two of you turned around to face the three. You smiled at the three. Smoke and Scorpion both bowed to the two of you. Sub Zero, notably, did not, but you did notice the slight nod of acknowledgement sent your way.
“Perceptive as always, and I thought we could finally sneak up on you.” Smoke greeted, addressing you as he spoke your name, a light playful tone to his voice. Smoke was always the friendliest of the three, it was a delight to talk to him. He was the most casual. You noted the slightly irritated glare from Sub Zero sent his way.
You surmised that Smoke had managed to convince the two others to also sneak in. You could not tell whether the irritation was from having to partake in such a silly endeavor, or if it was due to the fact that he blamed Smoke for giving the three of them away.
“Maybe another time, Tomas.” You chuckled, covering your mouth as you did so. Despite your words, you were competitive, and you weren’t planning on giving up in the ongoing game that you had both been playing for a while now. “Regardless, it is good to see you all, it’s been a while.” With that, you nodded towards Liu Kang, letting him go over the plan with the trio.
You observed silently as excitement coursed through your veins.
You had a feeling that tonight was going to be something special.
part two
599 notes · View notes
houseofripley · 28 days
Note
HII
Could you write a rhea x fem!reader where they are at a scare house with a bunch of friends and reader is a big scaredy-cat and clings onto rhea the whole time and all of them end up in a maze but rhea and reader get lost and separated from the group and reader is terrified so rhea tried to cheer her up with some make-out time and hugging and reassurance(maybe some smut there or when they get back home🤷‍♀️)
Scared?
Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader
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WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, Publix Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Mommy Kink
WORD COUNT: 1,613
A/N: I AM ALIVE SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING!!!! im on spring back so hopefully i'll actually have some freetime now
“No wait, I don’t think I can do it,” you jittered, your anxieties shaking through your body as you stood next in line to enter a dingy barn that was quite literally in the middle of nowhere.
After weeks of begging your partner Rhea to be the hugh hefner to your playboy bunny she agreed under one condition; that you’d go to the scare attraction she had been talking about non-stop. At first you were ready to scrap your matching costume idea altogether but after some reassurance from Rhea that your friends would be there you reluctantly agreed. 
“You are not backing out on us now!” Your friends started throwing playful teases at you.
“Don’t be a wimp, it won’t even be that bad,” 
Rhea wrapped her arm around your waist as she added to the taunts, “My little scaredy-cat,”
“I am not a scaredy-cat! I just don’t like having clowns chase me with machetes,” you attempted to defend yourself.
“That’s totally something a scaredy-cat would say,”
The attendant at the entrance signaled for your group to enter the building. You let a few of your friends enter before hesitantly entering, making sure you were in the middle of the group. Stepping inside a thick layer of faux fog clouded your vision while strobe lights beamed through the hazed air. “I wanna go home,” you raised your voice so your group could hear you over the loud ambiance and scream of others further down the path. 
You braced your hands in front of you in self-defense as you made your way through a flashing corridor. Rounding the corner you were immediately jumpscared by a bloodied woman hopping through a curtain, making you back up into Rhea as you let out a scream. 
Rhea let out a laugh as one of her hands took grip of your waist, giving the skin a light squeeze. “I got you,” Rhea chuckled as she spoke just loud enough for you to hear her. 
Your group of friends continued through the scenes of the attraction with plenty of jumpscares and many more screams before eventually being chased out of the building into the second half of the attraction, a haunted corn maze. 
You hesitantly followed your bunch of friends on the paths, your hand clinging to Rhea’s. It wasn’t long until your crowd was deep into the maze. By the time your eyes had hardly adjusted to the darkness you were soon caught off guard by a group of actors emerging from the corn stalks, causing you to dart further into the field.
“Oh my god I can’t see anything,” you yelled, too focused on running away from the bloodied men, you and Rhea wound up split from your group getting lost along the trail.
-
It had been fifteen minutes since the two of you last saw your friends and ten minutes since a scare actor popped up, your nerves were growing by the second knowing it was only a matter of time before another actor would find you. The grip you had on Rhea’s hand had to have been cutting off her circulation at that point. 
“Look at me, pretty girl,” Rhea spoke, her tone of voice was soft, “you’ll always be safe with me, you know that I’d never let anyone touch you,” she assured. You couldn’t help but look up at her with a soft smile, her reassurance sending ease to your foggy mind.
Rhea’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug before she dropped her lips against yours. You melted into her embrace as you squeezed your hands around her stiffened biceps. 
“As much as I’d love to kiss you forever, I’d love to get out of this damn maze as soon as possible,” you giggled, pulling back from her lips after a moment before continuing your way through the trails.
-
“We’re never making it out of here alive,” you pouted, throwing your head back realizing you were caught in yet another dead end. You were caught off guard by the feeling of a set of hands grabbing you from behind and pulling you back against their body, causing a shriek to leave your mouth..
“You’re so sexy when you’re scared, all tensed up,” Rhea quietly chuckled into your ear. “plus that little outfit making you all vulnerable isn’t helping your case,” she added, her teeth nipping at your earlobe while her arms pulling your back further against her chest.
“Not funny Rhe’,” you whined. Although your body relaxed knowing you were in the safety of Rhea’s arms, your heartbeat was still stuck in your throat, the thrill of Rhea’s sudden instigating had already begun forming a puddle in between your legs.
Rhea let out a breathy chuckle as she placed a kiss below your ear, “did you really think I’d be able to control myself when you look like that?” she murmured, her hands trailed to the bust of your strapless bodysuit.
“Mm- no but I assumed you’d have enough self control to wait till we got home,” your giggle soon turned into a quiet gasp as Rhea quickly flipped the bust of your outfit down, revealing your chest to the brisk air. Her hands glided to cup your breasts as her lips connected to the crook of your neck. Her fingers took hold of your nipple, rolling the flesh between her digits causing a hitched curse to leave your mouth. 
Rhea soon guided your body face hers, a satisfied smirk painted across her lips as she bent down and took your nipple into her mouth. Her knee found itself separating your legs causing a whimper to escape your mouth as her knee pushed up against your needy heat.
“Rhe’, we might get caught,” you whispered, your hands reaching to grab Rhea’s face, a grin creeping onto her lips as you pulled her face up to yours.
“Oh baby,” Rhea murmured, trailing her hand down the length of your bodysuit, “that’s the fun part,” she added before quickly yanking the fabric covering your core to the side. You sucked in a harsh breath, a shiver running through your body as the bitter autumn air hit your slicked heat.
“No panties? Naughty girl,” Rhea clicked her tongue as her finger slipped across your wetness, gathering your juices on her finger, “look at you, all soaked for Mami,” she hummed before taking her finger into her mouth, sucking your juices from her skin.
Rhea brought herself to her knees before you, her cobalt eyes twinkling in the moonlight as they trailed up your body, silently asking for permission. Although a quickie in a corn maze was definitely not in your Halloween plans, Rhea's mouth was nearly always impossible to resist. Once you nodded your head in approval she began peppering soft kisses to your inner thighs, leaving you whining at the sensation of her warm lips against your chilled flesh.
“Such a brave girl for me,” Rhea quietly praised, tossing one of your legs onto her shoulder, “I think you deserve a treat,” locking eyes with you she flattened her tongue against your cunt. She licked a wide stripe up your wetness, humming at the taste of your arousal. Your hand found itself tangled in her hair, pulling at the jet-black strands as her pierced tongue began rounding your clit. 
You chewed at the insides of your cheeks, hoping to stifle your whines when Rhea’s tongue sank into your heat. Quiet hums of approval escaped from Rhea as her tongue prodded with your entrance, her nose pressed against your clit. 
Rhea’s mouth returned to lapping circles around your bundle of nerves while her pointer finger snuck into your hole. Your abdomen tensed in reaction to her finger rhythmically pumping into your tightness. Faint whines echoed from the back of your throat as Rhea’s tongue worked alongside her finger that toyed with your aching core.
It wasn’t long until a second finger dipped inside of you, resulting in a whined “Fuck,” to escape your throat. Rhea’s tongue stayed focused on tracing shapes over your clit, her eyes still gazing up at you, clearly enjoying the sight of you losing control over her touch.
The adrenaline of knowing there was a possibility of someone rounding the corner and catching the two of you only fueled Rhea’s gestures. Your eyelids squeezed shut at the sensation of her fastened pace, 
“Mami,” you threw your free hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans, “oh- fuck Mami,” you whimpered, bucking your hips against Rhea’s face, your climax rapidly approaching.
The curling of Rhea’s digits as they pumped into you initiated your orgasm. Muffled moans left your mouth as your climax washed over you, releasing all the tension that sat inside your stomach onto Rhea’s fingers. 
Rhea assisted you in riding out your peak before retracing her fingers from your insides. She brought herself back to her feet, licking her fingers clean, the remnants of your slick coating her chin. “Better than any Halloween candy I’ve had,” she praised under her breath.
“How sweet, but please get me out of here,” you giggled out of breath, playfully rolling your eyes as you adjusted your costume.
You hopped onto Rhea’s back after gladly accepting a piggyback ride from her. Rhea successfully guided the both of you through the rest of the maze, thankfully making it out with minimal scares.
“Jesus, what took you guys so long?” a friend questioned as Rhea carried you to your group of friends who were sat at a bench waiting for the pair of you to show up.
“It's a maze! We got lost!” you threw your hands up in self defense.
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revehae · 3 months
Text
mirage
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pairing ↠ siren!ningning × (f) reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, scientist! reader, siren!ningning, fucking machine, kidnapping
summary ↠ after deceiving a naive siren, you decide to use her as a lab rat to prove your theories that other fellow scientists had ridiculed - and maybe use her for other, less than ethical experiments.
wc ↠ 2.4k
a/n ↠ part 2/5 of the legend has it series!
don't like it, don't read.
there was a moment, within the first couple of blinks, where the room reeled like the staggering motions of a ship on violent waters, and there was no way for ningning to tell what was up and what was down. then the haze started to dwindle, the fog started to lift, and everything became clear.
the first thing she noticed was the constant of unfamiliar noises resounding through the open room she’d roused to, shifting in the constricted space of the laboratory apparatus she was strapped to. your back was turned. you were facing a panel, closely monitoring her vitals.
“you’re awake,” you declared joyously, without the need to turn. “everything went smoothly. it couldn’t have been more perfect.”
ningning recognized you, though barely. it was all coming back to her. she was not like most others sirens, much less reputable for her generosity and impressionability. when she saw you, flailing around in the ocean where humans like you didn’t belong, she knew in her heart that she had to help you back to land.
that was what she endeavored to do at least, but beyond the memory of clutching your soaked arm, everything went black.
ningning’s eyes fluttered. she was shockingly lethargic. “what do you mean?”
“the experiment. it worked,” you explained vaguely, as if she was supposed to know what experiment you were referencing. you seemed so thrilled, off-puttingly so. “they said that my claims were pseudoscience. and then they said that even if sirens were real, the idea that there was a process where they could be transformed into man was a mirage.”
your rants sounded ludicrous, until ningning glanced down and saw that the glimmering scaled appendage, the one her whole identity was compromised of, was no longer attached. in its place, she had a pair of slender legs and an equal set of feet with little toes she couldn’t help but wriggle.
panic immediately settled in after the shock and she exclaimed, “what did you do?”
ignoring her, you continued, “i would’ve said it’s unbelievable, but that’s not true. i’ve always believed it. even when nobody else had faith.”
to say you were overjoyed would still be an understatement. for years your peers in the field had ridiculed and critiqued your theories. nobody believed in supernatural entities and given your lack of evidence, you had nothing to support yourself. other than your dedication to not only proving them wrong in the existence of the supernatural, but proving that mermaid-like creatures could be made human.
ningning started to squirm, frantic. she refused to accept the bitter reality; that everybody that warned her about the dangers of her supposed naïveté had been right. unlike her fellow sirens, she had always wanted to see the good in the other world. where her friends took pleasure in baiting humans to their untimely deaths, ningning was contented with being a hindrance.
“undo it. undo it, please,” ningning whimpered, delicate water trinkling in an unusual stream down her cheeks. “i need to go home.”
“you are home, honey. i’m afraid that unless i work out a formula to redevelop your tail, you won’t survive in the ocean,” you explained. “even then, i would have to replace you to continue my experiments. and you wouldn’t want too many subjects, would you?”
of course, it would only make your experiments more credible, but ningning was appalled at the thought of her friends being submitted to the same forceful stripping of their identities.
ningning shook her head, whispering, “no.”
“i thought so,” you said, though your tone was sweet nonetheless. “besides, i can’t cut you loose now. i have more tests to run.”
“tests?” ningning echoed weakly.
spookily enough, you said nothing, only giggling to yourself while you faced your panel again. there was something so ominous about you, about the whole atmosphere, and all ningning could do was close her eyes and sing quietly to self-regulate.
the true nature of a siren, you thought, but didn’t say. her voice was lovely, as alluring as you thought it would be. you couldn’t wait to milk those beautiful sounds of her in a more lewd, indecent way.
somehow, ningning didn’t even realize that she was completely naked until she felt your cool hands at her skin and her eyes snapped open. you were adjusting a machine between the pair of thighs she wasn’t supposed to have, and she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be comfortable with it or not.
wide-eyed, ningning asked, “what are you doing?”
“i told you, honey. i’m experimenting on you,” was all you said. 
for half a minute, you just stood there, lips tutted in contemplation and a befuddled expression on your face. then, in the next minute, you had her flipped over onto her hands and knees, readjusting the restraints around her limbs into taut knots. ningning cried out in shock all the while, more than confused about what you were up to, though she was silently praying to the sea gods for mercy.
“please,” ningning whispered, eyes glistening. 
setting the dildo part of the machine back in place, you gave a half-assed attempt at consoling, “don’t worry. if my hypothesis is correct, this will be quick.”
ningning hardly knew what you meant. she was no stranger to basic scientific terms, knowledge and science was not strictly a human concept, but you were so vague in your elaborations that she couldn’t help but wonder what all was at stake here. she couldn’t fathom why you were hunting merpeople or understand how you were aware of their existence.
without allowing her longer than a couple of seconds to think, the machine came to life, and ningning gasped loudly when it started to plunge where you’d set it between her thighs. it wasn’t a comfortable feeling. it felt foreign and strange and unexpected.
“hurts,” ningning whimpered.
“it won’t for long,” you replied offhandedly, a clipboard in your hands for charting data you were collecting. this bit of the trial was more personal. it wasn’t to prove yourself to other scientists, but self-indulgent research. 
never in ningning’s life had she ever felt anything close to this, and that made the feeling all the more inexplicable. there was an unorthodox fullness now, a warmth beginning to brew, developing in the pit of her exposed stomach and stretching out.
and then the feeling inside of her was so peculiar that it became pleasant. ningning couldn’t even be troubled with attempting to understand the logic behind it, because all she cared about now was this weirdly good sensation making her thighs shudder like nothing. her sounds were obviously like that of a siren, as bewitching and sweet-sounding as they could be, and it was making you dangerously wet.
ningning thought of it like singing, except she struggled to control the way her jaw slacked and those airy noises escaped her. it was almost like her mouth had a mind of its own, lips parting and her tongue birthing the gentlest of cries.
to say the least, you were amused. the machine was on its lowest potential setting and already she was a hot mess, unraveling like she never had before. granted, you had manufactured it all by yourself, deliberately choosing to make it sizeable and installing more than enough functions to keep it warm and vibrating, but it was entertaining nonetheless and you had a hidden camera recording every second of this experiment. for research purposes.
you needed to go back and review the content of the video, just to jot down any important details you might not have noticed. it didn’t really matter if you planned on getting off to the tape a couple of times, too, because this bit of the experiment was just for you. it was worth savoring every second.
you had a real motivation for this whole situation, no matter how laughable it might’ve seemed. it went beyond your fascination with the supernatural. not only did you want to know if it was possible to turn merpeople into humans, but if they could be human, or at least resemble humankind, you had long wondered if they could get off the way humans did. and at the same degree.
some people would call it a gross, taboo fetish. others would tell you to roleplay and get it out of your system, because there was no way in hell that mermaids roamed the same earth as humanity. but none of it discouraged you. you always knew you were right. and the beautiful girl in front of you, reacting astoundingly well to having her cunt fucked by a mere gadget, was living proof.
though you wouldn’t admit it to her face, you had been so tempted to touch her while she was unconscious, hardly able to resist the titillating allure of a siren. she had been out for a couple of days, which was more than enough time for you to transform her into a human. the only reason you resisted was because you wanted her awake, conscious reactions. it was important that she was alive and awake until the very end.
ningning’s face was tensed with pleasure, a kind you had learned to recognize in spite of the fact you’d never seen anything quite like it before. “oh my… fuck.”
you asked curiously, “how does it feel?”
“i… i don’t know. it feels weird. but i like it,” ningning stammered, breathy moans penetrating the air between her sentences.
that much you could tell, just from observing her. at one point, you forgot that you were supposed to be taking notes, too absorbed in the shine on her skin from the fresh layer of sweat on her back and the shape of her ass. the resounding wet squelch accompanying the repetitive noise from the machine’s activity as it slammed inside her pussy. you found yourself upping the setting, watching in real time how ningning’s head tilted with a light moan.
“it’s so big, oh my god, it’s so big,” ningning exclaimed, a tremor to her voice. “make it go faster - please.”
you cocked a brow. “you sure?”
all ningning could do was idiotically bob her head, sweet noises blocking all of her words. you were surprised to see her want so much so soon, but you weren’t going to deny her desperate request, and quickly pressed a button on the hovering panel beside you.
if you had to describe it, ningning was like an animal. you could see the wild, untamed need glistening in her eyes, pouring in the form of liquid. the tears dripping from eyes and the arousal seeping from her cunt. she didn’t even know why she wanted it so badly - she just knew that she did. 
hearing her talk about the size of the toy made you giggle. it was intended to stretch her open, maybe a little more than she was prepared for, but ningning seemed to be taking it like a champ. almost like it was made especially for her. she was borderline drooling all over the place, mouth hanging open and her eyes rolling back. the throbbing between your legs was becoming unignorable, though this wasn’t about you right now. proving a point was your priority.
ningning was gushing, tight walls kneading the hyper realistic dildo as if it were an actual cock. she couldn’t help but pulse around it, addicted to the quickening vibrations and the warmth shooting through her like sparks of electricity. if anything, she was lucky that it wasn’t real. had someone genuinely been fucking her, they would lack the self-restraint to treat her like the human you’d worked diligently for her to become.
realizing that you hadn’t touched her at all throughout the entire session, you set down the pen and clipboard that had fallen useless between your fingers and paraded right over to her, instead occupying your hands with her tits. you couldn’t help but pinch her nipples, twisting them here and there, much to ningning’s unmistakable delight.
she was just so responsive. every touch was met with the most euphoric of honey-like moans that made you want to rail her into the next century. not only did her body twitch and spasm with sensitivity, but her face was as expressive as it was beautiful. every feeling she felt was plain on her features and she lacked the ability to conceal her true emotions. ningning couldn’t lie and tell you that this wasn’t the most ecstatic moment of her life even if she wanted to.
“my stomach,” ningning trailed, words essentially becoming useless.
not that needed to speak, or even think at all. not when she was just your lab rat. you knew what she meant regardless, and it didn’t take your observation skills to know that she was just shy of climax, standing right at the brink. you wanted to see her let loose. for your own sake, you needed to know what it was like.
you kept touching her, careful to stand clear of the camera so that you wouldn’t obscure your own view later on, but just close enough to fondle with her body in a way that had her on the verge of melting into your palms. 
it wasn’t very long before you got exactly what you wanted. the device made short work of her, hitting her in all of the right spots, and you stepped back to gape in awe at how intense her orgasm was. it was more than the tears falling down from her eyes and the shrill scream that parted her lips, though that was a major part of it. it was more than her body convulsing involuntarily. it was a solid minute worth of undeniable bliss and pleasure so raw that she could hardly even feel for a good moment.
it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. 
ningning wanted to slump after orgasming, because as pleasurable as it was, it was also exhausting and clearly knocked the wind out of her. but the toy didn’t stop, and she didn’t notice the strange fluid dripping out of her until minutes later. because like hell you wouldn’t program an ejaculation feature into the machine.
“fantastic,” you chirped, more than proud of what you’d done. you were beaming with accomplishment. “we need a couple more runs and i’ll give you a break.”
ningning’s eyes, wide as they already were, largened as she pleased, “no more. i can’t take it. it’s too much.”
“shh,” you crooned, eyes glued to the device that had yet to stop thrusting in and out of her. or maybe the fake semen that was oozing out of her. “experiments don’t end with one trial, dear. welcome to my world.”
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