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gloomwitchwrites · 27 days ago

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Oh please, please, please something short, funny with 141 where their wife calls them on their way home from work “yea, I think I’m having contractions!” And by the time they rush home, she’s sitting in the bath tub with their new baby. And she’s all casual like ‘Hey! Look at this cool thing I’ve got!’ And it’s their baby.

(My Grandmother had this happen! Each kid under an hour. My grandfather nearly had a heart attack! He’d always hesitate to leave her alone. Suspicious she was ‘purposefully’ going into labor when he wasn’t there to help her. Lol…)

Okay, that is so funny and adorable! Hehe, omg, I love this. Dad!141 is my favorite. I love writing them as fathers or as potential fathers. And this prompt is just an excuse to do that! Thank you so much for sending it in. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): married life, pregnancy, childbirth, domestic fluff, swearing, humor

Word Count: 2.1k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

Price rubs at his temple, releasing a deep sigh.

It’s late. The base is nearly empty. Another late night filled with paperwork.

His phone buzzes, the cellular device vibrating on the desk. Price reaches for it, checking the screen. It’s you calling him, and his stomach flips.

“Cabbage,” he greets with a smile, answering the phone.

You’re pregnant, due date just a week or two away. Price doesn’t like leaving you home alone, but this is the last push. After tonight, he can come home early.

“John?”

His name is a question. There’s a hint of worry—of nervousness—and Price immediately picks up on it.

“Everything okay, love?” he asks, slowly standing, paperwork suddenly forgotten.

“John. I—I think—”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m having contractions.”

By the time the words leave your mouth, Price is already grabbing his coat. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” He swallows, pushing down his own anxiety, smothering it so he can be strong for you. “Stay on the phone with me. I’m coming home.”

On the other end of the line, you breathe heavily. Each whimper worries him.

“John,” you gasp, voice strangled as he throws himself into his car and turns it on.

“I know. I know. I’m coming.”

Price is doing his best to stay calm, to stay alert as he drives off base and heads for home, but all he can focus is on you.

“Keep talking to me, love,” he says, attempting to sound encouraging.

“Okay,” you reply, but then go quiet.

“Cabbage?”

When you don’t answer him, Price uses your name. Nothing. No sound at all as if the line’s gone dead.

“Shit,” he mutters, holding the phone out to check.

Call Dropped.

“Fucking shit,” he says, louder.

Price continues to dial—continues to call. Every time, he expects you to pick up, but you never do. The worry grows, becoming deafening as the seconds tick by. Traffic laws are broken, but it gets him home faster.

He’s throwing himself out of the car, dashing to the house, not caring if he forgot to put the vehicle in park. In the front entryway, he calls out to you, using your name.

There is no response.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he dashes up the stairs, heading for the bedroom. He enters, and it’s—

Empty.

“Where are you?” he breathes, turning away to check the rest of the house.

But then Price hears your voice, soft and soothing. Frowning, he checks the bedroom again, only to head toward the bathroom.

You’re sitting on the floor, back pressed against the tub. There’s blood and a fluid Price doesn’t recognize smearing the floor between your legs.

You glance up. Smile. “Hi,” you laugh as Price drops to his knees beside you.

There’s a baby in your arms. Its hands are tight fists, face pinched like it’s annoyed to be here.

“No wonder you didn’t answer the phone,” sighs Price, placing his hand against yours that cradles the infant’s head.

“A bit busy,” you chuckle.

Price laughs with you, taking his phone out his jacket pocket to dial the hospital.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I’m not leaving.”

“It’s fine, Simon. Really.”

Simon crosses his arms over his chest. “The last time I left you this close to your due date, you gave birth while I wasn’t here.”

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “That’s not going to happen again.”

“It might,” he growls.

“It won’t,” you insist.

As you start to walk away, Simon blocks your path. “You’ve been complaining about your lower back all morning.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I always complain about my lower back.” Simon begins to object but you continue on. “And we need milk. And eggs. And bread.”

“Fine,” mutters Simon. “Fine. I’ll go. But you call me immediately if anything happens.”

“Okay, dad,” you reply, mocking him.

Simon drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulling you in to kiss the top of your head. “Pumpkin,” he replies, and you hear the smile in it.

“The sooner you go the sooner you’ll be back. You can worry and fuss over me all you want then.”

Simon pulls you in for another kiss before heading out the door. The trip to the store isn’t peaceful. In the back of his mind, Simon stews, a little voice telling him that you’re going to call him any second and tell him you’re in labor. That’s what happened with your first, and Simon came home after you’d given birth.

He was devasted. Upset. Not with you—never with you. He was upset with himself for not being there to support you through it. To hold your hand. To encourage and shower you with love.

Simon is standing in line at the meat counter when you call him.

“Don’t be angry,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Are you having contractions?”

“…Yes.”

“Goddamn it.”

Simon abandons the shopping trolley, apologizing to the workers as he rushes out the door and to the car. When he enters the house, he hears your labored cry. Dashing up the stairs, Simon enters the bathroom at the same moment you cry out, clearly pushing. You’re on your hands and knees, sweat beads your brow, hair sticking to your face.

He dives to his knees, arms outstretched and reaching beneath you as the baby’s head emerges.

“I’m here,” Simon says, keeping his voice calm and soothing.

You start crying, head tilting to lean against his shoulder.

Another push, and then the rest of the baby is out and in Simon’s hands. The infant is silent at first, then releases a cry of displeasure.

“Bloody hell,” exhales Simon, “I’m never leaving you alone again.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

I’m having contractions, reads the text.

Johnny’s mouth drops open, gaze growing distant.

You’re having contractions. You’re having contractions, and he is on the other side of the city. With traffic, he’s likely an entire hour away from you.

“Soap?” asks Gaz, waving his hand in front of Johnny’s face.

“I have to go,” says Johnny quickly, shooting up from his chair, almost knocking it over.

Gaz and Ghost both stand abruptly, clearly startled by Johnny’s sudden panic.

“Everything good?” asks Ghost.

Johnny shakes his head. “The missus is having contractions.”

“Oh,” replies Gaz, eyes growing a bit wide. “Damn. Go. You should go.”

“We’ll cover your tab,” adds Ghost.

Johnny groans. “Her due date isn’t for another bloody week.” He grabs his jacket.

“You’re going to be a father, Soap,” chuckles Ghost, punching him in the shoulder.

“Fuck. What if she has it while I’m not there?”

“Don’t these things take forever anyway?” muses Ghost. “Contractions don’t mean anything. Right?” He glances at Gaz.

Gaz shrugs. “I think you should worry if it’s close together.” Gaz holds his hands close to indicate the lack of time.

“Shit,” mutters Johnny, tapping away at his phone.

Are they close together?

It’s a few seconds and then the three little circles pop up, indicating that you’re typing back.

They’re close. A few minutes apart. I’m on the phone with the midwife.

“Oh fuck,” mutters Johnny, elongating the vowel as he tugs on his jacket.

Gaz grimaces. “It’ll be fine,” he tries to reassure as Johnny rushes past him. “Congrats!”

Johnny hardly hears him, he’s too focused on getting to the car. Every second is agony—not knowing what’s happening while he’s driving. When he pulls up to the house almost an hour later, there’s a car Johnny doesn’t recognize in the drive.

As bursts through the door, he hears calming music. Rushing forward into the living room, he finds you on the floor, wrapped up in a blanket, propped up by a nest of pillows. The midwife putters about as you gently rock back and forth, cradling an infant in your arms.

You glance up. “Look,” you laugh, lifting the infant that you’ve just birthed, presenting it like you’ve completed a fun DIY craft project.

Johnny almost faints.

“Oh, babe,” he exhales. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The midwife makes a sound of annoyed agreement and Johnny winces.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “She came quickly.”

“I should have been here,” he groans, sliding to the floor next to you, draping an arm over your shoulders.

You lean into him. “You’re here now,” you sigh, eyes closing as you snuggle against him.

Johnny looks to the midwife, and she smiles at him—a reassurance. You’re fine, and so is his daughter.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Ignoring it, Kyle keeps his attention on Captain Price, focusing on the briefing for the upcoming mission. The phone goes silent. Seconds later, it starts up again. Frowning, Kyle reaches into his pocket, sliding out the phone just enough to see the screen. Your name and picture appear on the screen, your smile bright and lovely.

“Need to answer that?”

Kyle’s head snaps up at the sound of Captain Price’s voice.

“Sorry, Captain. It’s the missus.”

Price inclines his head, the middle of his brow creasing slightly. “It’s she pregnant?”

“She is,” affirms Kyle.

“Then you should answer it.”

Kyle gives him, Ghost, and Soap a brief nod. “Excuse me,” he mutters, standing and heading for the door.

When the meeting room door slams shut, the phone starts up again.

Kyle answers, his words falling from his mouth quickly, sounding like one solid word instead of several. “What’s going on, love?”

“I’m having contractions.”

You sound panicked.

“You’re—are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” you gasp. “Water broke earlier—"

Kyle’s voice rises slightly. “Your water broke and you didn’t call me?”

“I wasn’t feeling anything,” you reply, as if that makes it okay. “But now, it’s constant.” Your sigh is labored. Tired. “They’ve come on so suddenly, Kyle. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, love. Don’t apologize.” You have nothing to be sorry for. He’s just happy you called. “I’m coming home. Right now.”

“But you have that meeting. You can’t—”

“I’m coming home,” he reiterates. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hang in there, dove. I’ll be there soon.” Kyle disconnects the call and bursts through the meeting room doors. “It’s happening,” he announces.

Soap blinks, confused. “What’s happening?”

Ghost side-eyes him. “He’s about to become a dad.”

“Fucking shit. Really?” Soap turns to Kyle, beaming. “Congrats.”

Price crosses his arms over his chest, a look of pride on his face. “Go, Sergeant.”

Kyle nods, giving a half-wave as he backs out through the toward, heading toward the parking lot. He’s practically running—rushing to turn the car on. Taking off, Kyle hardly cares if he hits anything, and he doesn’t blink when breaking nearly a dozen traffic laws.

He makes it home in half the time he usually does. Every second counts. Every moment important. If the contractions are coming quickly and close together, it means the baby is ready, and he needs to get you to the hospital.

As he enters the front door, he calls out to you. Your answer comes, but it’s distant. Upstairs. Kyle takes the stairs two at a time, walking into the bedroom to find it empty. But the bathroom light is on.

A few steps, and he pushes open the door.

You’re not standing at the sink putting on your makeup or getting ready to leave. You sit inside the shower on the tile floor, the glass door wide open, pantless, and cradling an infant in your arms.

“Shit,” he breathes, moving forward. “Shit.” Kyle crouches just outside the shower door.

You grin sheepishly, lifting the baby like it’s an accident. “She came minutes after I got off the phone with you.”

“Oh, bloody hell, love,” laughs Kyle.

There are tears in your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Don’t be, my love.” Reaching out, he grasps the back of your neck. Leaning in, he presses his lips to your forehead. “She’s beautiful.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @sageyxbabey @glassgulls @miaraei

@weasleytwins-41 @eternallyvenus @chaostwinsofdestruction @cherryofdeath @ninman82

@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3 @sans-chara @all-by-myself98 @hisuccubus

@km-ffluv @thriving-n-jiving @carbonnite-copy @sobbangchan @codeseven

@youre-a-wallflower-charlie

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acid-ixx · 10 months ago

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villain au concept: brutus (again &. again series)

tw: flashing lights for the video

this but with a neglected! reader who had tried to take a shot at fighting and discovering their potential. they're especially good with guns, the very weapon batman has sworn neven to use.

you were born to be a heartless killing machine— if not for your mother shielding you away from the sins she had bared, you would've been more than just a bounty or a target costing millions.

you would've been the topmost hired hitman at the age of ten, but you had only found out about your skill at that age.

simply being adopted into the family had delayed your development; turning you into a human, who yearned for love and attention yet never having it reciprocated. you had brainwashed yourself into thinking that if you could reach the same level as them then maybe, just maybe, you could stand by your family's side.

your father, batman, should've noticed the signs sooner.

that in the manor, it houses a cold blooded beast, too far gone into the world of lusting.

lusting for blood, lusting for condemnation, lusting to satiate their hunger.

the way your eyes lit up whenever you successfully hit a target from miles away, or the way your tantrums and fights with damian leads you to ripping apart practice dummies with murderous intent— they were detectives for god's sake! how could they have merely ignored the heavy thumps that cloak the night?

alfred had tried to address the sudden shift in your behavior. he had tried to point out your calculated stares during family meals, the bandages that began to litter your body, your bedroom doors now bolted; how every night the smell of blood seems thicker and more concentrated in the manor.

you didn't just grow up. hell no, you were an entirely different being.

instead of you being led to the light, you were further drawn to the darkness; the picture perfect scenario of what bruce should've been had he ever not picked himself up and fixed his ways.

but you weren't bruce, fucking wayne. no, you were (last name)'s child, and you would never forgive him for even trying to wipe out your own identity.

the neglect that had built up and the anger that was left of you— you turned it into determination; motivation for you to stealthily sneak through the batcave and steal his devices, transform it into weapons made for just for you.

yet you do not use bullets for justice nor reason just like jason, no. but you had died just like him, lost your hope for the very man who you once thought of your father.

it is all a means for you to quench your thirst.

you couldn't wait to see their faces.

maybe then they'll bond with you through fists and bruises, through gunshots and bullets.

and the best part of it all?

you don't need to ask for anymore for their attention.

not when you have all the other criminals willing to give the world in the palm of your hands.

a/n: do you know of fanon! jason who was said to be an aggressive kid? in this au, it's basically you; drowning in contempt lmao. anywaysz, this is just a concept that i randomly thought about, it's basically a "what-if" you had found out the truth sooner about your mother other than the rumors? (lore still redacted lmao) bec if you did, then the end result is this au hehe. again, in the main series there's a lot of false narratives on your part, i love utilizing the faulty narrator trope.

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #concept: brutus #yandere dc #yandere dc villains #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere villain #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #villain au

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seokgyuu · 6 months ago

Text

Running a little witch store in a small town, recently the only exciting thing has been Jake visiting your store every other day. While he doesn’t buy anything, his looks are enough to make your days a little less boring. And when he comes in one day, mixing up his offered tea with a very, very powerful aphrodisiac… it is about to get a lot more than just a little less boring.

Pairing: Neighbor!Jake x Witch!Reader Genre: Porn with almost no plot, Supernatural (as reader is a witch, duh) Warnings: Jake is a bit of an idiot but hot, reader is very sarcastic… are those even warnings? Reader has female anatomy and is described as a woman, pure filth basically, MINORS DNI!!! Smut tags under the cut Word Count: 6k A/N: Well hello! Happy Halloween everyone! My little last minute Halloween Project is done! First up, thanks to @aaagustd for the AMAZING banner!!! And my lovely @heechwe for betaing! This work was very, highly, extremely inspired by a clears throat spicy audio that was uploaded literally last night. Could not stop imagining it to be Jake who this happens to… so here we are. The creator’s name is AugustInTheWinter, check out his Patreon or Reddit, I swear it is SO worth it if you’re into audios!! Anyway, thanks August for this inspo and thank you guys for reading! tagging my beloved @yvnempire because she's so excited about this hehe. Please leave comments and/or reblog, it would mean the absolute world! Wanna support me? Here's my Ko-Fi!

Smut Tags: Big dick!Jake, Jake starts nervous and a bit subby, but turns into a beast, handjob, blowjob, face-fucking, facial, p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay safe kids!!), multiple orgasms, loads of cum (like really… so much), dirty talk, degradation (words used: whore, slut, hole, fucktoy etc.) cumplay, cum eating, tell me if i missed anything!

Everything about this town was boring.

The scenery was boring. The activities were boring. The people were boring.

Just… everything.

Your coven had sent you here because of the apparent magical aura you so, as they said, “desperately needed to achieve your full potential”. Bullshit, for all you cared. The magical aura might have been strong, but it was so deeply rooted into the earth, you had trouble reaching it even after hours of channeling your own powers. Of course, you didn’t tell them that. All they knew was that you were having a blast in this shithole of a town and had already made tons of friends.

So far no one had questioned your answers and so you just lived your life, hoping you would soon succeed in attaining the magical power of this place and go back to your normal life.

Recently, though, you at least had something a little less boring gracing you every other day. Jake Sim - the neighbor from across the street. He was handsome and a little shy and very obviously did not believe magic existed. Not that you cared much about that, no, you had been exposed to many people who didn’t believe in you and your kind, not to mention all the other supernatural beings walking on the face of earth.

Jake was a non-believer and wonderful to look at and you were fine with that. Content. More than happy.

As you were brewing some potions a few of the older women around town had ordered (while they also didn’t exactly believe in magic, they at least believed in your ability to brew things that were extremely efficient in their gardens), you found yourself thinking about the pretty man again. About his laugh and his eyes, about the way his shirt would rise up and show a bit of his happy trail leading down to something you could only wish to see fully exposed one day.

Truthfully, the last time you got laid had been ages ago. So long that you couldn’t even really remember who it was with and where. It was a curse, this town, and seeing a young attractive man stalking into your store a few weeks back had suddenly brought back the desire you had managed to suppress for who knows how long.

Just then, as you were deep in thought, cutting up some lavender, the door opened and the little bell above it rang, bringing you back to the present.

“Hi Y/N!”

Jake had his puppy smile on, hair blown out of his face and a thick coat hanging off his shoulders. He walked over to the counter and you smiled up at him, catching yourself finding his flushed cheeks extremely endearing.

“Jake, welcome. Anything I can do for you today or are just here for another chat about how magic can’t be real?” You tilted your head and gave him a playful smile that he answered with a little laugh.

“Actually, I did come for something today. Mrs. Bloodstean said you have some great tonics for flowers?”

Ah, yes, Mrs, Bloodstean, the woman three houses down who had trouble with her roses. You had helped her and now her roses bloomed all year round.

“I do indeed, Mr. Sim. What can I get for you?”

“Well, I’ve been having some troubles with my Mandevillas… they don’t seem to wanna bloom as much as, uh, I would like them to.”

His sheepish grin would have made your knees weak if you’d been standing. You nodded and got up, checking the shelves behind you for the potion he’d need to get his flowers to grow and bloom as much as he liked. Eyes roaming over the different bottles, you soon came to the realization you were out and clicked your tongue.

“Seems like I’ll have to brew one. That’s gonna take a couple minutes, do you want some tea while you wait?”

Jake nodded yes and smiled, turning around to do this usual routine through the rows of shelves in your store. From a safe distance, he began to watch you do your thing, cutting up ingredients and throwing them into a miniature cauldron Jake couldn’t help but be amused by. A witch store in the middle of this small town, run by one of the most attractive women Jake had ever laid his eyes on.

When he had first stumbled in here, he had mistaken it for an alternative medicine shop. While he wasn’t totally wrong, he also wasn’t fully correct. You did offer some remedies and lotions, some potions and tonics, but you also had crystals and salts and books in your many high rising wooden shelves. The first day, he had spent hours just browsing through the books, not thinking of actually buying anything, but somehow being immersed into this world of magic he was so sure could only exist in fiction.

He hadn’t even noticed someone working at the front behind the counter until he turned to leave, almost stumbling over his feet when he spotted you. You concentrated on a page in an old looking book, biting down onto your tongue that was slightly sticking out of your mouth. You with the prettiest face he had ever seen, that made it so hard to look away.

After that, he came back every other day, hoping to talk to you, get to know you and maybe ask you out on a date. Of course, he never did because if Jake was anything it was a coward. It didn’t matter that he somehow happened to be handsome, his charisma was in the trenches.

It was obvious he didn’t see the effect he had on you, which made it even more fun to have him around in your store. You could sense that this man did not have one indecent thought about you while in the store, even when you wore low cut shirts or skirts with slits almost as high as your hip. No, he was a good boy, a sweet boy. The contrast of the two of you was almost comical - you thinking about what it would be like to feel him, to taste him, to push him against a bookshelf and have your way with him and Jake just wanting to man up to ask you out.

Circling back to the front, Jake saw you hard at work and decided to fill his tea cup by himself, the steaming blue teapot on the right side of the counter. Smiling, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, his eyes widening at the sweet taste.

God, that’s delicious!

The hotness of the drink seemed to fade into the background as the taste spread on his tongue, so sweet and wonderful his eyes almost rolled back, the liquid making his whole body feel warm and fuzzy, and without even noticing he finished the whole cup in one go.

“Wow, that tea is amazing! What kind is it? I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.” Jake put the cup back down and beamed at you.

Blinking, you looked up at the brown-haired man, your mind a little slow at catching up with what Jake said.

“What do you mean?” You asked, brows furrowing slightly.

“The tea you made me, what kind is it?” He repeated, pointing at the teapot next to him.

Your eyes widened for a brief moment, then you slowly got up.

“How much did you drink of that?” You asked calmly.

“A whole cup, it’s like so, so good, how-,”

“A whole cup?!” The volume of your voice surprised both of you and Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth dropping open a little.

“Was that- was I not supposed to? I- I’m sorry, you seemed busy, so I just helped myself.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds. Watching Jake’s confused face, trying to read his thoughts. He had absolutely no idea what he just drank. But you did.

A grin found its way onto your lips, a grin so diabolical it made Jake’s stomach turn.

“That’s not your tea, Jakey,” you said, pointing at the teapot he drank from, “your tea is over here.”

Jake followed where your finger pointed next, a small black teapot standing to your left, all done with a cute little pink cup next to it. He blinked a few times.

“Then- then what is this?” He asked, nervousness beginning to spread through his body. Your grin deepened.

“Oh, that? That’s just the very, very powerful aphrodisiac for Mrs. Brown’s husband. See, he can’t really get it up anymore.”

Silence. Jake felt like the whole world had suddenly gone silent at your words. But then he remembered where he was, who you were and how incredibly unlikely it was that this really worked. So, he snorted.

“Right. An aphrodisiac in the form of tea, I’m sure that’s gonna work wonders with Mr. Brown.”

“Not just him, but you too, you know,” you began to walk around the counter, stopping when you reached the other side, leaning against it with crossed arms, “and you’re only supposed to drink one sip of it. You, dear Jakey, drank a whole fucking cup.”

Honestly, Jake still didn’t believe you. Or at least he thought he didn’t. But something about the way you looked at him almost made him falter. He laughed and shook his head.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m not an idiot. This obviously isn’t going to work, it’s a hoax, we all know it’s a hoax.”

“Is it though, Jake? Is it really a hoax?”

“What? Of course it is! Magic isn’t real, can’t be real, this tea surely won’t help Mr. Brown get an erection and I, my friend, more than anything, will not get aroused by some fake viag-,”

Oh shit. Jake couldn’t help the deep moan escaping his throat when he suddenly felt the hardest wave of pleasure hit his body. He almost dropped to his knees, his cock growing harder by the second, pressing against the seam of his jeans, making them uncomfortably tight.

“You won’t get aroused, Jake? Yes? Is that right?” You were having the time of your life. This was better than anything you could have ever predicted. By Mystra, how could you have forgotten about the tea for Mrs. Brown? And how lucky were you for Jake to mistake it as his own? You couldn’t believe your luck.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jake groaned now, his chest heaving and you tilted your head again, watching sweat form on the handsome man’s forehead. His pupils were blown and his face flushed and, fuck, did he look good.

“I would say the potion is kicking in. How does it feel?” You bit your lip, watching Jake struggle to find words for what was happening inside… and outside of him.

“I- well, oh fuck, it, uhm, it feels… it feels like, like I’ve never- like it’s so.. it’s so h-hard, you know?”

“Hm, I don’t think I do. Perhaps you can show me, just so I can check if it all looks normal?”

Jake’s cock twitched at that. You wanted to see? Check if it looked normal? Another moan made its way through his lips and it sounded so utterly pathetic you felt yourself drip into your panties.

“Wh- what do you mean “normal”? C-Could it look, like, n-not normal?” He was sweating. A part of him really wanted you to see, to check, to maybe even touch him, but another felt shy, didn’t want this to happen before taking you out to a nice dinner, maybe even a movie and-

Fuck, who was he kidding?

“I don’t know, that’s why I wanna check. Will you show me, Jakey?”

“F-fine, b-but only to check!” His cheeks were on fire at this point. His cheeks on fire and his cock hard as a rock, aching and throbbing and probably aggressively red at the tip.

That last prediction proved to be correct when he pulled down his pants and briefs at once, his cock springing free, standing harder and prouder than he had ever seen it. He whimpered at the sight.

And you? You almost fell to your knees, itching to touch him, to lick over the tip that was already leaking so, so miserably. Oh good lord. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip again and you swallowed hard, eyes glued to the huge cock Jake had been hiding from you.

“Is it- is it always this big?” You asked, not even looking into Jake’s face anymore.

“Well, n-not when it’s not, uhm, you know… h-hard.”

“So it’s this size even when no potion is involved?” You wanted to know.

“Y-yeah, that didn’t change.”

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, your hand wanting to grab around him so badly, but you contained yourself.

“What- what can we do? Like is there an antidote? Can I- can I drink another potion? Or maybe there is, uhm, fuck, a spell or something?”

You chuckled.

“Now you believe in spells, Jakey? Funny timing,” finally, you raised your head to look at him again, “but no, there is no antidote. Like I said, it’s made to help get it up and given in a specific dose. But you, my dear, drank probably thrice as much as necessary.”

“So what does that mean? I- I can’t just go home like this!”

He was right about that. Everyone would see him sporting the largest boner known to mankind. And right now, you decided, this was only for your eyes.

“I think the best way to deal with it is to, frankly speaking, empty it.”

Stars seemed to dance around Jake’s head when you spoke, the image of you rubbing his cock, sucking on it or even bouncing on it to empty him of all his cum… he twitched aggressively.

“S-so, wh-what are you sug-suggesting?” His heart was speeding in chest and he was trying his hardest not to jump to conclusions.

Yet another devilish grin spread on your lips as you raised your hand and snapped your fingers, closing the blinds of the storefront window and locking the door all at once. In any other situation, Jake would have been freaked out, but right now all he could concentrate on was the way you pushed yourself off the counter and looked at him from head to, well, problem.

“I am suggesting, Jake, that it would only be right of me to help you out.”

Jake swallowed hard, glued to where he was standing, his cock still so unbelievably hard, still aching and throbbing and in desperate need of attention.

As you lowered yourself, knees soon hitting the wooden floor, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Do you want me to help you out?”

“God, yes, please.”

And there it was. All that you needed to finally bring your hand to his cock. He immediately moaned, head falling back as his hips moved forward, thrusting into your grip. You chuckled as you slowly began to move, bringing your thumb to his tip, gathering all of the already leaking precum to use as lubricant.

It already brought you immense pleasure, jerking him off. Staring up at him, seeing nothing but pure lust and desperation on his face. You were throbbing between your legs, wetness building up more every passing moment.

“Fuuuuuck, yeah, j-just like that, oh wow.”

Jake felt like he had never been touched like this before. Every bit of friction against his skin was like the first time. Every inch you touched with your hand was burning, sparkling with something he could only describe as magic. He couldn’t stop the desperate moans even if he tried, couldn’t stop his hips chasing your hand, thrusting into it like a mad man.

“Faster, please!” He cried out and you obeyed, speeding up your hand. Your eyes were glued to his cockhead then, watching how precum kept leaking, drips landing on your floor or the briefs that were hanging around his ankles with his jeans.

You worked your hand faster, having trouble closing it around his big shaft and finally adding the second, working him at double speed with his cockhead still peaking out.

God, how would he feel inside you?

Two hands around his cock and Jake could sense a first orgasm approaching. He thrusted his hips, fucking both of your hands, eyes rolled back into his skull, the pleasure completely taking over.

“Yeah, yeah, just like that, fuck, fuck, I am fucking your hands so good, shit!” He didn’t know where to put his energy, switching between moaning and whining and saying his incoherent thoughts out loud, feeling himself leak onto your hands. He wondered what you’d do when he came, if you’d just let him come right onto you or if you’d point it elsewhere.

“Feel good, Jakey? You look so hot, so, so good for me.” You stared up at him, batting your eyelashes and finally Jake looked down at you, his spit catching in his throat. You looked insane with his cock in your hands, your face wild and determined, a small grin on your lips that made his cock twitch once more. The whimper escaping him must have been the single most arousing thing you had ever heard.

“I’m gonna come, I’m s-so close,” he cried and you nodded, licking over your lips.

“Yeah, come for me, wanna see you come, Jakey.”

When he had said yes to you helping him out, he sure as hell had not expected dirty talk to be involved and, shit, was he happy it was. His mouth fell open wider, eyes glossy and focused on your face. He knew it was going to be a lot, knew he’s going to shoot the biggest load of his life onto you in a few heartbeats.

“C-Coming, oh- shit!”

When he came, he came. Cum spurted out his cock, and you didn’t even think about letting a drop go to waste. The first load landed on your neck and collarbones, dripped down your cleavage and over your breasts, the second you managed to catch with your tongue slurping it down like a five-star meal. The third landed on your cheeks and chin, some on your neck, joining his already left mark.

Jake truly couldn’t believe his eyes. You, the woman he had been thinking about asking out for weeks now, covered in and eating his cum. Another little bit of cum dribbled out his cock and you caught it perfectly with the tip of your tongue, causing Jake to groan desperately.

He was still so fucking hard. Still desperate for more.

“I need more, I’m still so hard, please.” His pleasing eyes and slightly trembling lips made the picture in front of you perfect. Jake, big cock full on display, still hard from the potion he had drank by pure accident, his first orgasm so powerful he had shot three loads onto you, was now begging you for more.

And you were more than eager to make every wish of his come true.

“Since you said please…,” you grinned, leaning forward, not giving a damn about the seed currently drying on your skin, and flicking your tongue against his tip, his hand almost immediately moving to grip the back of your head. “God, yes, yes, please take it into your mouth, fuck, please!”

His wish was your command.

Your lips closed around his tip, sucking on it just slightly, tongue gliding over his sensitive slit, tasting his bittersweet taste, wondering if maybe the potion had altered something about it. Next, you moved your head forward, taking more of him into your mouth, feeling the veins of his cock press against your tongue. A moan erupted through you, the arousal almost too much to bear at this point.

“Ohhhh, god, yes, take it, take it deeper, shit.” His hips moved, pushing more of him into your mouth. He seemed to vibrate, seemed to fit perfectly into your wet heat, tip hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag, spit dripping from his shaft down to the floor. Your hands grabbed the back of his thighs, steading yourself as he began to thrust down your throat.

“Holy fuck, that’s right, gag on my cock, gag on it, fuck.”

It must have been the potion speaking because he wasn’t usually this vocal. But then again, he had never had anyone take his cock down their throat as well as you were doing right now. Gagging and spitting and tearing up, but nothing in your face showed discomfort. No, you were thriving on this and Jake felt your arousal in the air, felt it mixing with his and he sped up his hips, both hands now holding your head in place as he let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard.

He shoved you down his cock completely now, his balls hitting your chin as he fucked your mouth like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Drool mixed with his precum dribbled down your chin, tears began to stream down your face, your eyes rapidly blinking as you watched him lose all of his composure. You wished to keep this memory engraved into your brain for all of your life.

Jake was in a rush, in a complete trance, fucking down your throat, feeling your tongue against his shaft, your throat restricting around him, your gags and chokes turning him on even more. Somehow, with every thrust closer to his release, he felt the tension rise up more.

What the fuck even was in that potion?

It hit him then, his second orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier, quicker, accompanied by desperate moans, whimpers and groans.

You managed to swallow it all, the load just as huge as during his first orgasm, shot after shot down your throat, your eyes growing wide while you sucked him dry, or at least attempted to.

“Swallow it all, yes, yes, fuck, come on, come on! Take it all, I know you want to, fuck!”

There was no control left in his body, the potions effect taking over completely.

He emptied his cock into your mouth and pulled out when he at least thought it was over, only for another wave to hit him and land on your skin again. He felt like an artist painting an already perfect canvas with his own visions.

“S-sorry, fuck,” He breathed hard, watching you slowly get up, your face wild and stained with his seed as well as your own tears. Your eyes were red, pupils blown and with every gaze you shared, he knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you. He swallowed and looked down, seeing his cock still hard, still throbbing and aching. Would this ever end?

“I need more, need more,” he mumbled, stumbling forward and grabbing your hips roughly. You moaned at his touch, your fingers gliding over your chest to pick up some of his cum and shove it into your mouth, sucking them clean. He swore under his breath.

“Do you want to fuck me, Jakey?” You asked then, voice sweet like honey, but body looking so breathtakingly filthy.

“Want to, need to, have to,” he replied, moving to lick some of his own cum off your neck. You moaned at that surprising action, pussy throbbing and dripping. Without another thought, you dipped forward, pressing your lips against his. He kissed you back right away, tongue shoving into your mouth and he could taste himself even more on your tongue. His hands ripped open the corset-dress you were wearing, freeing your tits from their prison and immediately moving to grab them.

You hopped onto the counter then, pulling him closer, legs hooking around his waist. He kissed you hungrily, tongue and teeth and spit and hotness all mixed together. You shoved his coat off his shoulders and opened the buttons of his shirt, but he stopped you.

“No time, need to be inside you now.” He basically growled, fingers simultaneously finding your panties and ripping them off of you just like he had your dress. You spread your legs further, ready for him, more ready than you had ever been.

Jake knew he had reached heaven right then. Grabbing his cock and bringing it to your drenched pussy, pushing into your awaiting entrance and feeling you grip him, pulling him closer. He cried out, whimpered into your ear and continued to suck on your skin, cleaning you off of his seed all while working to bottom out.

And when he was finally buried to the hilt, he only paused for a second to take it all in, before beginning to fuck into you at a brutal pace. Your fingers clawed into his shoulders, mouth dropping open as your head tipped back and high pitched moans crawled out of your throat over and over.

“So fucking tight, taking me so fucking well, such a dirty fucking slut.” Jake bit your neck and you cried out once more, your whole body shaking with pleasure as he continued to fuck you. There was nothing you could compare to what was happening right now. No one had ever fucked you as good, as hard and as fulfilling as Jake.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this, Jake pulled out of you and grabbed your waist, heaving you off the counter only to spin your around and push you down onto it, your ass up in the air.

“Sorry, need to fuck you like this.”

Back in he went - full speed, full force. The counter shook under you and you gasped when he began to thrust. His cock dragged against your walls, split you open so beautifully it felt like you were going to burst. You threw your ass back at him, clawing at the edge of the counter, eyes falling shut as you let yourself enjoy the way he drilled into you.

There was a high chance Jake was going to grow addicted to this feeling. Never had he ever had sex as good as this and perhaps this was courtesy of the potion - or maybe it was just you. You with the perfect pussy, the perfect mouth, the perfect hands. Everything about you seemed to heighten his arousal, seemed to get him closer from the edge all while pushing him even further away from it.

He could do this for hours, fuck you until he came, spill his seed in you over and over, watch how it spilled out. God, he wanted to see your pussy stuffed with his cum so bad. Watching his cock slip in and out of you, hearing the noises you made, it was almost too much.

“You’re my perfect little hole, aren’t you? Just made to be fucked like this,” he couldn’t help himself, grabbing your hips even rougher and spitting down to make it even wetter. Not that that was really necessary. You were dripping down his cock as well as your own thighs and Jake swore he would never recover.

“Fuck, Jake!” You cried out, hip trying desperately to move while he held you, eyes opening only to roll back as your orgasm hit you like a brutal wave.

“Shit, are you gonna come on my cock, slut?” Jake saw red as he felt your pussy spasm around him, pulling him even deeper, squeezing him for all he had, wanting to milk him dry of his load.

And who was he to deny such a request?

“Come inside me, Jake, please, please, please!”

You had sensed his orgasm and he let out a growl, finally filling your pussy with his load just as you hit your second high right after the first. Once again, it didn’t stop, it just kept on coming, his cum landing inside you and already dripping out as he fucked both of you through your orgasms, filthy sounds filling the air next to both of your moans and groans and pleads for more.

Jake had expected to be done after three, but no, he was still hard, and so he grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, standing up straighter as he picked up the speed once more.

“Need another one, baby, just one more, fuck, m-maybe two, I just- fuck, I am so hard, I need to fuck you more, wanna fuck you all night, need to fuck your pussy.”

There was nothing left in his brain except for the need to come, for the need to fuck you. He was like an animal during heat, felt like he was going to explode. His cock was so incredibly sensitive, hurting even at this point, but it was addictive, you were addictive. Just the thought of not being inside of you anymore filled him with something close to agony.

“Y-yes, fu-fuck me Jake, your cock feels so good, s-so big!”

At this point you could have taken the potion yourself judging by how you were feeling and talking. Normally, you were the one in charge, the one on top. But with Jake? You enjoyed being in his hands like this, enjoyed being used by him for his pleasure. You wanted him to fill you up, to split you open, to do with you whatever the hell he wanted.

“God, yes, like my big cock fucking you open like that? Such a good behaved little whore, isn’t that right?” He found himself slapping your ass, and judging by your reaction that had been the exactly right thing to do. He groaned when he felt you squeeze him again, both hands back to holding your hands in place.

He lost himself in you. Lost himself in the pleasure. And you lost yourself in him and the need to have him fill you up again and again.

His fourth orgasm made his cock soften a little. He filled you to the brim, watched the majority drip down your legs, forming a little puddle to your feet and he licked his lips, letting go of your hands and pulling out of you, turning you back around and placing you back on top of the counter.

“Lean back,” he ordered and you did as wanted, eyes wide and pussy throbbing from the last orgasm a few seconds ago.

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him position himself between your legs. He grabbed his cock and placed it in between your lips - to thrust in between them, cockhead repeatedly hitting your clit. You gasped, body jerking forward.

“Wanna paint your whole body with my cum, stay still.” His big hands grabbed your hips, pinning you to the counter as he began to thrust his cock over your pussy, the friction already enough to almost make him come again.

“Mhmm, y-yes, f-feels good!” You cried and he grinned, continuing his spiel like a madman.

“You’re so sexy, so fucking sexy, baby.” He breathed out, his brain slowly but surely coming back to him. And when he heard that little noise you apparently always made before you came (if he could trust the two orgasms from earlier), he felt himself reach the edge as well.

Your head fell back when you felt the next orgasm hit and your pussy ached for more when his next load landed all over your stomach, even reaching as far as your tits, painting you just like he had wanted.

The canvas was finished.

But Jake wasn’t.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, so sorry, I need to-,” his head was fuming red, and he moved back a little, just to dip his cock back into your spent pussy and you fell flat onto your back, your head hanging over the counter.

He fucked you like a ragdoll, like a toy, like he didn’t even really acknowledge you were still there. He pressed down onto your stomach and sped up, tried to fuck you deeper. He imagined he could feel his cock through your skin, imagined he could see himself fucking you just like that.

“S-so deep!” You cried out and he looked at you, at your body, and nodded, watching now how your tits jumped at every thrust. They were stained with his cum as well and he hoped he would never forget this image.

“One more, promise, just one more, my perfect little fucktoy, yeah?”

His words were so filthy, so desperate and full of need, they made your pussy spasm again, made you grip him hard over and over again.

“That’s it, fuck! Gonna come, gonna come, shit, sh-shit! Take my cum, take it, yes, yes!” He was in a spiral downwards, then back up and back down - his last orgasm hitting him like a fucking brick, yet another load landing inside your pussy - one, two, three. His cock twitched and twitched and finally began to soften.

When he pulled out, he fell backwards, landing on the floor, his eyes wide and his ass hurting.

The potion slowly lost its grip on him, his normal, coherent thoughts coming back all while he was getting down from his many, many highs.

You pulled yourself up in exhaustion, your chest heaving. When you sat up straight again, you couldn’t help but chuckle at Jake on the floor.

“Need a hand?” You asked, carefully jumping off the counter and finding that your legs were nothing but mere jelly. Quickly, you grabbed onto the edges of the surface and found your balance again.

“I- I-,” Jake began to stutter, his eyes probably the size of saucers by now. You grinned.

“You?” You raised a brow. Jake’s face turned crimson.

“I- I’m sorry, I-,”

“You’re apologizing? For what? The best sex I’ve ever had?” You snorted, “No, Jakey, no need to apologize.”

Jake bit the inside of his cheeks. Best sex you’ve ever had? While he wanted to feel proud, he wasn’t so sure if that really had been him having sex with you or if the potion had a mind of its own.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” you moved forward now, stretching your hand out for Jake to take, “the potion only strengthens what’s already there. It doesn’t change your personality, it just makes you give less fucks.”

Had you read his mind? Jake cleared his throat and nodded slowly, before taking your hand and letting you help him up.

Only then, when he was standing so close to you again, did he realize you were still covered in his seed. He turned even redder.

“Oh, right.” You giggled, closing your eyes and once again snapping your fingers.

Immediately, you were clean of his cum and back in your dress - which had also magically repaired itself. Jake also found himself back in his briefs and jeans, his coat safely hanging over the counter. His mouth dropped.

“You-,”

“Are an actual witch, correct, Sherlock.” You winked at him and walked back to the other side of the counter, “Now, do you still need that potion?”

Jake stared at you for a second.

“Y-yes,” he mumbled, watching as you quickly finished the preparations. He didn’t dare say anything, his heart beating at triple speed and his brain working overtime. He had just fucked you. For like… a good while. And he didn’t even have your phone number.

“There you go,” you smiled and carefully shoved the bottle with the potion over the counter, “just pour a few drops over your flowers tonight. You should already see some results in the morning.”

“Th-thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, Jakey. You already paid me enough.” You said cheekily and Jake found himself choking on his own spit.

When he walked out he regretted not asking you for your number. Or if you wanted to go on a date.

But that night, when he got ready to put the potion to its use, he saw a little note stuck to the label he hadn’t seen before.

Tomorrow, 8 o’clock at your place. I promise I’ll bring wine that won’t make you wanna fuck me for hours. It’s a date! Also here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxx. See you tomorrow, loverboy!

Jake found himself laughing out loud.

And while he did his work in the garden, he thought that just because the wine wouldn’t be the reason, he sure as hell would not mind fucking you for hours at least twice every day for the rest of his life.

#svnet #jake smut #enhypen smut #jake x reader #jake fanfiction #jake au #jake sim fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #jake x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen au #enhypen imagines #kvanity #ksmutsociety #jake sim x reader #enha smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut

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cherrynflowergarden · 10 months ago

Text

demon in my head||joão félix

an; hiiii pookies how are y'all joão is literally so husband coded urg it's unfair i hate pretty people sm❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 people are so crazy??? blaming a single man for the loss??? hello the last time i checked football is a team sport so how can you blame ONE PERSON???? honestly if anything it's on the team not on a single person tbh it's not even on the team shits happen there are days were everything goes against your wish im really disappointed by ppl who are hating félix rn like poor man is just 24!! he's a human!! he's allowed to be nervous and feel overwhelmed!! he's allowed to make mistakes!! cmon man even your goat couldn't score a goal in 120 mins then how come you're shitting on félix there's so much i want to say but im too angry for that now peak stupidity lowkey feel like it's 19 nov 2023 (portugal version) (my desi ppl will understand the trauma behind this date😀💔) but atleast we didn't troll our players and won the t20 wdc before the legends' retirement so there's that hehe 🎀🌷💌 F1!READER YAY ALSO THAT MAGUI (ew) DOESN'T EXIST IN THIS AU SO YAY JO��O ISN'T TRAUMATIZED BY THAT THING!!!!! ALSO SINGLE JOÃO ERA BEFORE HE DATES BEAUTIFUL YN ERA 😇☝️

summary; yn yln is a formula 1 driver. and pretty famous one. but sometimes she forgets that.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

liked by maxvestrappen1, logansargeant, joaofelix79 and 1,755,962 others

yourusername guys the person on twitter wasn't me it was the demon in my head😇😇😇😇

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𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

liked by maxvestrappen1, yourusername, and 982,829 others

redbullracing welcomes joaofelix79 to the redbull garage ✨

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username OMG

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liked by author

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𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

liked by landonorris, honeymoon, lilymhe and 1,365,797 others

yourusername table for two 🌷🪷🌺

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𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

liked by peargas, kikapika, wtfisakilometer and 58 others

tagged ynshusband

ynluvslily do u think he'll kiss me after getting high bc we're dating 🤨⁉️

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lilyluvsyn DOUBLE DATE WHEN

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alnobone unfortunately 😓

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𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

liked by maxvestrappen1, joaofelix79, pablogavi and 1,984,893 others

yourusername 2nd slide is literally me

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yourusername WHO TAUGHT YOU WHAT RED FLAG MEANS GRANDPA

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sleepysnk · 2 years ago

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a/n: i needed something to post, so i decided to make these headcanons. i hope y’all enjoy!!

characters: bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, oliver aiku, michael kaiser

warnings: established relationships, nsfw, virginity loss, virgin!reader, corruption (oliver), praising, use of pet names (baby, princess, my love), daddy kink (kunigami + oliver), fingering (kunigami + kaiser), oral sex f!receiving (oliver + bachira), breeding kink (kaiser + kunigami + oliver), creampie.

VIRGIN KILLER HEADCANONS.

bachira meguru:

you and bachira had been dating for almost a year. he only found out you were a virgin because one night when he went down on you, you confessed to it. being the good boyfriend he was, he had no problem with that. if anything, it turned him on even more that he could potentially be the one to take it from you at some point. the idea of your pretty pussy being filled with his cock made him harder than a rock, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck you better than anybody else.

eventually, you got comfortable with him and after some talking, you both decided to have sex after a date. he was completely in love with how pretty your naked body looked underneath him. your skin and curves were made from the god’s themselves and he honestly didn’t know where to start first. he started off by eating you out until you saw stars in your vision. you tasted even more divine than he imagined and your sweet cries for more only furthered his assault on your cunt. his hands were squeezing and groping at the flesh of your thighs, massaging the fat to make you feel even better than you did right now. his tongue was skilled and you almost squirted from how it dragged along your sensitive bud.

nothing compared to how great his cock felt inside of you for the first time. you always knew how long it was. there was a small vein that ran just underneath the base and, when he entered you, you could feel it dragging along your pretty walls. he made you feel so full with barely just a few inches and my god he found those spaces inside of you so quickly. he loved how tight your pussy was. it was all his, after all. he wasn’t going to let somebody else enjoy how your cunt spasmed at every rut of his hips. he couldn’t hide his smirk when you clawed at his back as your orgasm reached its peak. he fucked you through your high, almost cumming the second you tightened around him. you made such a mess on his cock, but he didn’t give two shits about it.

“hehe.. look at you. you made such a mess, but it’s perfectly fine, baby. i think it’s cute..”

kunigami rensuke:

kunigami had been your boyfriend for a couple of months. he treated you like a princess and nothing more than that, but when he found out you were a virgin, he was pretty surprised.

kunigami was a big guy. his cock was long and thick and he wasn’t sure if you’d be able to take it the first time. he worried he could possibly hurt you and the last thing he wanted to invoke harm on you and your body. first times were meant to be memorable with the right person, so he wanted to play it safe with you when it came to sex. you guys both talked and after watching a movie, you decided to make a move and finally take that step with him. he started off with foreplay, because he knew full well that he couldn’t just put it in without it. he decided to use his thick fingers to prep you. they were so filling and they curled and twisted inside of you, making your whole body twitch. he truly was gifted with those hands of his.

the stretch of his cock was so great that you gasped sharply when he first entered your cunt. he made your toes curl and no amount of prep could have prepared you for the way his cock felt inside of you. kunigami could hardly believe his cock fit, but he managed to stuff you full with it. he was scared that you were in a lot of pain, but when you tried moving around to feel some kind of friction, he knew you were ready. all he wanted was to make you feel good and he was doing just that. nothing could have prepared him for when you moaned out “daddy” through glossy lips. he almost came right then and there, but he only continued fucking you. kunigami wasn’t gonna stop until you were a complete mess because of him.

he had the urge to fill you to the brim with his cum. he knew it was your first time, but he just couldn’t help himself. the way your walls gripped him like your pussy was made for him to fuck was driving him up the wall. he begged you to let him cum in you and when you agreed, he completely let go right then and there. his thick seed filled your womb, making you moan in pleasure at the warmth that spread across your belly. it was just too good.

“i’ll fill you until your pregnant, princess. I’ll make sure of that..”

oliver aiku:

oliver was quite shocked to hear that his girlfriend of nine months was a virgin, but that completely turned him on more than he would like to admit.

you were untouched and there hadn’t been another man who had seen you in such a manner. the idea that he was the only person who would have that access to you made his mind go crazy with ideas and thoughts, but he had to compose himself because you were his girlfriend. he knew he had to be smart with you about your first time, so he told you that when you were ready he would gladly take your virginity. that day came after the two of you had your annual anniversary date that evening, and he was more than ready to take that step with you.

oliver was completely mesmerized by your beauty. he knew you would be beautiful already, but seeing you in that manner was just amazing to him. he took his time praising your body and calling you beautiful. when he took off your underwear to eat you out, his mouth watered at how delicious your pussy looked on display for him. it was already soaking wet with your slick and he wanted nothing more than to taste you. his head game that night was unlike any other. his tongue dove deep into your folds, slurping and sucking on your clit to make you dig your nails into his scalp. the sensation was so foreign, but you craved it more than anything else. once he made you cum, he was able to push his cock into your tight hole. his cock was big and somewhat girthy, which made you feel so full.

oliver was losing his mind while he was fucking you. your pussy was so warm and perfect. he loved how you felt sucking him in. he whispered to you to call him daddy and once you did, he started fucking you at such a rough pace you almost lost all of the air in your lungs. he made you beg for his cock and to let you cum. your brain was completely under his control and all you wanted was his dick and nothing else. he had the desire to fill you up with his cum and with your consent, he did so. there was nothing more satisfying than watching his thick white cum leak from your cunt that was all his.

“good, huh, baby? let’s go for round two.. yeah?”

michael kaiser:

kaiser wasn’t that surprised to hear that you were a virgin. plenty of people were and it didn’t bother him one bit that you were. he honestly thought it was kind of cute. he would be the one to take care of you when that moment came and he honestly thought about it a lot.

after the two of you hung out, you decided to make that move and tell him you were ready. kaiser was somewhat shocked but he didn’t really mind much. he prepared for that moment and he was ready to show you what he could do with himself. he made sure you knew that your body was beautiful and just as gorgeous as you were as a person. he played with your cunt, making sure you were almost dripping wet. he wanted you as prepared as possible and he was so excited to see what you would be like in bed. he wondered it often, and seeing your cunt get sticky the moment his fingers dipped under your panties was an answer for him.

once your body was prepped enough, he pushed himself inside of you and he almost came the moment he slipped inside. you were so tight and wet. your pussy hugged his cock perfectly and he almost struggled to move because of how intense the feeling was. kaiser wanted to fuck you so good, but he knew he had to be patient. it was somewhat dwindling because he just couldn’t keep himself composed around you, but he tried his best to remain that way for your sake. however, you started becoming needy, whining his name like it was a prayer. he had to let go and just let you have it.

kaiser heard this voice inside his head telling him to breed your cunt. he tried to ignore it but he just imagined how hot it would look with his cum inside your pussy. he kept asking you in your ear and when you nodded your head vigorously, he allowed himself to empty his balls inside of your cunt. your red walls were now painted white with his cum and there was a mess coming from within you. it drove him mad, and he knew he would do it again if he had the chance.

“aww, look at you, my love. all fucked out, are we?”

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moonshapedbox · 2 months ago

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swan shaped heart

arthur morgan x preacher’s daughter

a/n: whew! this story is finally leaving the confines of my drafts and i’m so happy!!! it’s longer than I anticipated it would be but ultimately decided that this will be a series. longer chapter to start with to set up the storyline. extremely self indulgent bc i want a man like this. reader is pretty freaky but we’re all adults here okay sdfjkf special shoutout to @dilf-luvr-4evr who wanted me to tag her, tysm to u and to my other dear moots for hyping me up and encouraging me to write !!! ok i think that’s everything! :D

tags: reader is in her twenties, lots of fluff, hint of age gap, ton of romantic tension. no blasphemy bc i’m religious <3 hands..lots of hands (you’ll see) no smut but heavily suggestive, lots of religious themes throughout obviously, no use of y/n (I wrote in 3rd person hehe), read at ur own discretion !!!

wc: 6.5k

part one | part two

He arrived in a little town 15 minutes outside Valentine– couldn’t remember the name of it nor did he care. Hell, he didn’t know why he was riding there or what he was going to do when he did get there, but he was exhausted from casing banks and stores, or sizing up the potential jobs in the area, he needed a place to rest.

He looks up at the sky, the sun had just gone behind the mountain; he was too far from camp to head back now, there was no reason to risk being caught in any attacks from rival gangs if he were to travel during the night. The slight breeze was cool and wet, there was rain coming. He needed to find shelter–and quick.

The town hardly changed at all since he last visited 4 years ago, maybe a fresh coat of paint on the post office or the new signage on the general store–it was like time stood still. As he rode into town, there were a few people who knew him, giving him subtle nods as he rode past, others not at all. He found some lodging to stay in overnight and took inventory of his saddlebags, counting all the things he lacked. He decided it was smart to make a run. Soon enough, he secured his horses outside the general store, only buying a couple things before he left town again in the morning, enough food to last on the trip and a new pack of smokes.

He got what he needed and packed his saddlebags– when his eyes met with the church. He wondered how she was doing, what she looked like now, if she even remembered him at all—the preacher’s daughter. He heard a lot of stories about preacher’s kids; lascivious, wild and unruly. Although she was different– an honorable woman, who took everything her father taught her to heart, and tried to be her best when the Bible instructed it. Her even-tempered and friendly demeanor was like a calming balm on his aching soul. It was something so refreshing, so sweet in comparison to the life he was living. If life was a long and painful drought, then this woman was the rain– and he needed rain desperately.

“Mr. Morgan?” a voice broke him out of his train of thought. Mr. Morgan. That voice–he’d know that voice from anywhere. He looked back and sure enough there she was, standing there with her ruffled white dress, burgundy boots with laces wound up snug against her ankles, and a dainty swan pendant necklace that adorned her neck, glimmering in the western sun.

He inhales into a small grin, “Well, I reckon I know you from somewhere” he smirks. “How you doin’ little lady?” She squeals loudly and hurries over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a friendly embrace, “I can’t believe you’re here I thought you’d never come back,” she says, holding onto him for a moment longer before he pulls away. “Can’t have you be huggin’ me like that in the street or else people’ll think we’re sweet on each other” he jokes. She finally steps back to look at him and there’s a beat of silence, so short that if you were to exhale you’d miss it, but Arthur picks up on it. It’s awkward, in a sweet way. She looks down for a moment before looking up at him again, “Town missed you Mr. Morgan, where you been?” she asked.

He felt guilty at the question. He’d been robbing, scheming, hurting, killing. Although he couldn’t tell her all that, she’s a preacher’s daughter. He felt so surely that if she ever found out what he did for a living she’d shun him for the rest of his life, “Uh, work mainly. You know how it is darlin’,” he replied, putting a lit cigarette up to his lips, taking a drag.

“How long you plannin’ on stayin’ for?” she questioned, looking at his face for any clues to why he’s here. He shrugs, honestly he wasn’t planning on staying for long at all but since she’s standing right in front of him, with big glossy eyes and the hint of her sweet orange and vanilla perfume catching every now and again with the slight breeze– he couldn’t say no.

“Not long darlin’, just for the night and then I leave in the mornin’,” he explains, that should give him enough time to visit without raising suspicions. She flashes him a melancholic smile and nods, wishing that he’d stay longer. She never got a chance to spend any time with him when he came to visit for the first time.

Arthur Morgan–what a man, it would be an honor to get to know him behind his mysterious and aloof nature. To know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, she wanted to be the one to break his walls and scoop into his soul. Her mind starts to race with thoughts as her eyes gloss over his features: warm dark blonde hair, big blue eyes and scruffy beard–he was perfect.

He gets even more handsome than the last time I’ve seen him. He must have a girl–there’s not a woman on earth that hasn’t claimed him for herself yet. I wonder if he thinks I'm pretty…Lord, he’s so much older, so much more experienced– what am I thinking I ain’t got a chance.

“You okay darlin’?” his voice broke her train of thought, she watched him put the cigarette back to his lips. She nods, “You was always an inquisitive one.” she teases, trying to change the subject. He raises his eyebrows and scoffs playfully, he never thought of himself as the inquisitive type. “I could say the same for you missy…’sides why’s your Daddy lettin’ you in town all by your lonesome?”

“I’m just going to get a couple things, we ran out of some food back at the house,” she explains, kicking some of the dirt on the ground with her foot. Arthur nodded slowly, he was nervous. Why was he so nervous? Words not coming to him with such ease, that beat of familiar silence encompasses the air again. She looks over at the entrance of the general store, “Well, I guess I must go now, it was nice seeing you again, Mr. Morgan.” she softly bows her head and turns away. The sight of her leaving pains him, even if it’s just for a moment. There is something stirring in Arthur. Something big and explosive —yet strangely familiar. Before he can even think about what he’s saying, he hears the words leave his mouth, “Wait– I’ll go in with ya.” he says, stamping out his cigarette and catching up beside her, “it ain’t safe… a young lil thing like you by yourself.”

She stops and looks up at his big looming figure standing next to her, “I can manage just fine Mr. Morgan, but I will not turn down your company.” She quietly thanks the Lord under her breath and enters the store with him. She greets the shopkeeper while he follows her around, making mental notes of the stuff she’s buying, looking over her shoulder for trouble so she doesn’t have to.

“Y’know Mr. Morgan, you were our hero 4 years ago…helping us round up all our missing cattle that those awful Montgomery boys stole from us.”

Hero? A title that he rarely heard attributed to him. Her words transported him back to that time. He couldn’t believe it had already been 4 years since a trembling, fresh faced, beautiful young woman begged him to take care of some seemingly rotten men. Men that did nothing but terrorize the town by fighting, stealing, and getting into all sorts of debauchery– including looting and descrating her father’s church. As the tears ran down her soft and supple cheeks, she didn’t know that the man she was pleading to help save them from misery– was planning to rob her townsfolk and shoot them dead if needed to. A plan that would inevitably fail, all because his heart got the best of him.

He blinked back out of thought, “It was nothin’ really. It was nice spendin’ the week in only one place for once– speakin’ of them boys; they been givin’ you any trouble lately?” he exhaled, scanning over her features. “No, you must have scared them real good Mr. Morgan, ‘cause I haven’t seen them since.” she replies, checking the pears for bruises.

Of course, because he shot them dead.

“Well…maybe they moved away.” he gestures vaguely. She smiled politely and continued to shop for the ingredients she needed. She fidgets with her swan pendant necklace and he picks up on this small habit too–trying to etch every aspect of this woman in his mind so he’ll never forget. When she had gotten all she needed, he offered to pay for her groceries. A gesture that restored her faith in man. She insisted it wasn’t necessary but Arthur paid for them anyway. As they walk back out, they loiter around the front of the store for a moment.

“Thank you for courting me Mr. Morgan, y’know you really didn’t have to.”

“Oh sure, I wanted to, really.” he smiles softly.

They gaze at each other for a moment before she smiles back, “It was nice seeing you again Mr. Morgan. God bless you.”

He nods and smiles back, watching her walk away, wicker basket of groceries cradled in the crook of her arm. He sighs to himself, it was all so soft and so sweet, truthfully, he needed this. As he began walking over to his horse, thinking over the interaction, a soft ping of metal reverberated against the wood paneling on the steps. He looks down by his foot and a glimpse of something bright catches his eye, he picks it up and studies it.

It’s her swan pendant necklace.

“Shit…” he mumbles to himself. He looks around the building to see if he can catch up with her but it’s too late. He sighs and gives it another look over. The picture of the elegant swan on the pendant with gold trim perfectly catching the sunlight stared back at him. It was a beautiful pendant– while her family wasn’t dirt poor, he knew her folks were certainly not rich, especially given her father’s profession. There was no way she could have the money to buy this on her own–this must have been a family heirloom. He shoves it in his pocket for safekeeping.

That evening, the rainstorm he predicted was currently pounding against the glass of the window in his room. He shuts the door behind him and thuds himself down heavily on the side of the bed. He starts to rub his eyes, watery from exhaustion, with his index finger and thumbs. The events of the day weighed heavy on him, from having to stay overnight, to having to go back to camp empty handed, it was like a weight of stress was congregating in his chest. Despite all of this, the image of her stayed in the back of his mind. She looked well off and healthy, getting to see her after so long was pleasant to say the least. He sighs deeply and kicks his boots off.

He lays on the bed, adjusting his weight to the mattress to get comfortable. He feels something in his pockets that prod at his hip, before reaching back in only to pull out the preacher’s daughter’s necklace. While he knows it’s just an object, he shares a moment with it— reminding him of its owner. Oh how pretty she looked today, like an angel. She smelled so sweet, her smile so soft, she was divine in so many ways. He thought of how the cool enamel of the pendant would touch her warm skin. His mind starts to wander, thinking about her only wearing the pendant, how it would glimmer under the low light of a bedroom, as he caresses her soft, untouched skin. Guilt stops him for a moment, and he curses himself for thinking such a thing– this was the preacher’s daughter he was thinking about. It would never work and he knows it, she’s forbidden fruit–but there’s something that courses in his veins, something that makes his mouth water for just a small bite.

He lovingly caresses the pendant with his thumb, the ghost of a smile visits his lips. Strangely enough, he found himself dreading to give it back to her. The pendant was expensive enough that he could have just sold the damn thing and went on his way–or at least that’s what Micah would insist him to do. Although he would never inflict such cruelness on this innocent daughter of the Lord. No–he didn’t want the pendant for monetary gain, all he wanted a little memento to remember her by. He closes his eyes and places the softest kiss on the enamel of the pendant before opening his eyes again.

“The preacher’s daughter, of all women–,” he mumbles to himself, “you sure know how to pick ‘em…don’t ya?” He exhales as he rolls over, before placing it on the nightstand. He stares at it once more before putting out the candle.

“Goodnight girl.”

The next morning, Arthur finds himself on her porch, the sun barely cracking the sky open. He knocks a rhythmic pattern on her front door, and clears his throat. He’s nervous–strangely enough. He sniffs a few times and clears his throat again. He looks down at his hands and takes another glance at the pendant, he’s shaking just a bit. He should have been back on the road by now, but here he was, waiting for the preacher’s daughter to answer the door. What was taking her so long? Maybe this was a sign from God that he should just leave and take the pendant with him–the door swings open, he shoves the pendant back into his pocket before she can see, her eyes widen at his presence.

“Mr. Morgan!” she smiles with bewilderment. Arthur looks her over– she’s stunning even for so early in the morning. He takes his gambler's hat off and holds it against his chest, “Morin’ little lady,” he responds, “I–uh, found something yesterday,” he reaches into his pocket and extends the pendant out in his hand, “I think it might be yours.”

She audibly gasps and places her hand on her chest before clutching the pendant, “Oh my stars, I have been looking for this everywhere I was sure it got lost forever!” she beams with excitement, “Praise God you found it! Where was it?”

“Outside on the steps in front of the general store,” he replies. She lovingly stares at the pendant before looking back up at Arthur. She pauses and opens her mouth to say something, before closing it again. He cocks his head at her in confusion, she exhales and starts over, “You want to come in for a bit?”

Arthur grimaces and shakes his head, before exhaling, “Ah, I don’t know about that darlin’, I’ll gotta be gettin’ a move on. Besides I ain’t wanna intrude on y’all’s activities.”

“Oh I insist! I know, Papa would love to see you,” she explains. Her father would love to see him? He mentally rolls his eyes at her naivety. While it was true that the preacher didn’t actively hate Arthur, he wasn’t fond of him either. She frowns at his disbelief that laid evident on his features, “Really Mr. Morgan! I’m serious, let me repay you for finding my necklace.”

“Just a little bite before you go,” she smiles and sways her hips innocently. “I’m sure you’ll have a long journey back and you gotta eat, right?”

He sighs and smiles softly in return, “Okay. I guess I do gotta eat…just as long as I ain’t intrudin’.” He shifts his weight on one hip.

“Not intrudin’ at all. Breakfast is almost ready, come on in and make yourself comfortable.” she stands by the door and watches his big and broad figure walk through the threshold, “You’ll have to forgive Papa for his temporary absence, he’s in his room finishing the last part of his sermon. so I’m afraid it’ll be just us for now.” she says, closing the door behind them as she leads him into the kitchen. He was more than okay with that. It was already nerve wracking enough sitting alone with her, he didn’t need anymore stress from her father picking him apart in his head, cataloging all the sins that he’s riddled with.

He looks around the living room as he follows her into the kitchen. The house is quaint yet congenial–just how he would imagine a pastor to live. The scent of breakfast wafting through the air was wonderful, he hadn’t had a proper meal in days. He does what she says and makes himself comfortable at the table as she returns to the stove to gently stir the contents of the pan before joining him.

He sees the Bible open on the kitchen table, assuming she was reading it while she was cooking, “Didn’t mean to interrupt your routine,” he gestures to the table. She adjusts herself at the table and meets his eyes, “Nonsense, you’re not interrupting anything,” she picks up the Bible, and quietly continues to read, “I just like to read a little bit of scripture in the morning to get my day started. Let me finish this passage real quick.”

Arthur didn’t mind, he sits and fidgets with his lighter for a moment. After a few beats of silence, he puts his arm on the table and leans, trying to see what she was reading on the page, “So what’s it say?”

She giggled at his curiosity before clearing her throat, “It says, ‘Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you,’ that’s Esphesians chapter four, verse thirty-one and two.” She smiles softly.

Arthur nods, it all sounded lovely to hear. Although bitterness, wrath, and anger was all he was filled with– he couldn’t remember the last time he felt any differently. He felt like his whole life was one big sorry situation, tired of the ache of ruminating over the things that had gone wrong, people he lost, and regrets that plagued him. He was mad at everyone and everything. In Arthur’s case, forgiveness felt like water that was just out of reach for him. The thud of her closing the Bible jostles him back into the moment, he watches her get up and place the book back on the shelf in the living room.

“Y’know, you’re good at that.” he calls out to her, adjusting himself in the chair, his hips bucking forward a tad to get comfortable.

“What. Reading?” she calls back from the living room before walking back to where he was.

“Sure. If I was guaranteed you’d be the one preachin’ then maybe I’d start goin’ to church.” he smirked.

A rosy pigment of blush spread across her cheeks, “Now Mr. Morgan, what exactly is that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know Papa has wonderful sermons.”

That’s not what he meant– her obliviousness to his gentle flirting was endearing, he chuckles to himself. “I don’t doubt it darlin’” he mindlessly fidgets with his lighter again.

“--Hey, that’s a wonderful idea. Why don’t you come to church with me this morning?”, she inquired, “You can sit next to me the whole time.”

His eyes widened before grimacing at the idea, that really wasn’t the best move considering who he was–although she was none the wiser, “I don’t know ‘bout all that, darlin’...” He hadn’t stepped foot in church since–well since the last time he saw her 4 years ago. “Why not?” she asks innocently, her big eyes gazing back at him. “If it’s about how you’re dressed the congregation won’t mind.”

He looks down at his attire and exhales a chuckle through his nose, mentally rolling his eyes at her assumption, “It ain’t about the clothes… it’s–” he sighs in between his words, “you know church..ain’t my thing,” he rubs his jaw, thinking over how awkward it would be to sit at one of those pews.

“How do you know if it ain’t your thing if you don’t try?”

He scans her soft features, “I been around a lot longer than you, trust me on this.”

She gazes back at him and nods, walking back to the stove to finish preparing breakfast. There was a significant amount of silence that unaccounted for, Arthur who usually didn’t mind the stillness of the morning, grew restless in his chair.

“So…uh..whatcha makin’?” he asked, trying to find something to talk about.

“Biscuits and gravy” she replied, stirring the gravy in the saucepan to keep it from burning.

“Sounds good, ain’t had biscuits and gravy in a long time,” he taps his fingers against the table rhythmically.

Arthur was never good at small talk– he wasn’t like Dutch in that respect. That man could talk his way out of a death sentence, and God did he wish he had Dutch’s silvertongue right about now. Instead, he silently watched her cook, as a warmth spread in him. She’s wearing her Sunday best– and he notices the way her dress hugged her body and her bodice cinched her beautiful figure, how concentrated she looked when she was taking the biscuits out of the wood-burning oven, it strangely felt like home. For a moment, he forgot he was some outlaw, but just a simple man in the kitchen with his beloved.

“Mrs. Hawthorne was askin’ about you yesterday. She saw you ride into town” her voice snapped him out of his trance, he grunted an acknowledgement, “The lady who was convinced her dolls were talkin’ to her?” he replies.

“Well she– now wait there Mr. Morgan she certainly does no such thing,” she explains, “That was just a rumor.”

“Ain’t a rumor if I seen her do it,” he laughs, “Sometimes she talks back to ‘em. Gives ‘em funny voices.”

“That’s not funny Mr. Morgan,” she frowns, trying not to laugh, wooden spoon still in hand, “Besides it’s not right to gossip.”

“What’d I say?— Oh so it’s not okay to gossip but it’s okay to laugh at her expense? I get it now…” he jokes. She turns away, hiding her face from him. He stands up and saunters over to her, “Don’t think I ain’t seein’ you fight back a laugh. You think it’s funny too.” He chuckles. She eventually bursts out in laughter, the original joke not even that funny, it was something about his tone that tickled her. Suddenly, they both erupt in big laughter together.

The atmosphere in the room is light and airy–like both of them could breathe for once. “I think the gravy is done, you wanna taste?” she asked, her voice easing from laughter into a normal speaking pattern, wiping tears with the back of her wrist. Still grinning, he nodded in response, and leaned his hip on the side of the counter. She pulls open the silverware drawer and sighs, “Oh darn, I thought I had a spoon but I guess they’re all dirty.” she shrugs and fixes the issue by innocently tapping her finger into the saucepan, holding it out for him to taste. In her mind, she thought he would have a quick taste and tell her his opinion. Oh to the contrary.

His heart jumped at the sight of her outstretched hand, slowly but surely he wrapped his lips around her finger, licking the sauce. The pent up desire that was bubbling deep inside of him started to rise to the surface, and before he could catch what he was doing, he began to deliberately yet gently suck on her finger. The feeling of his tongue wrapping around and in between her two fingers, made her lightheaded, electricity ran through her body and caused a heat to pool in her stomach. After licking her fingers clean, he pulled away and gazed into her eyes for just a moment.

“It’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly shaky. She gazes into his eyes for a moment, before responding with a small and trembling voice, trying to pretend she wasn’t affected. “You sure? Does it need more pepper?”

He knew exactly what she was doing, whether she realized it or not; and he couldn’t help but find her innocent curiosity endearing. A small smile appears on his face, “I don’t know, let me taste it again.”

A justification to have her fingers in his mouth.

Without a second thought, she taps her two fingers in the gravy again and holds them out for him, this time her hand trembles at the thought of re-experiencing the feeling. His big, calloused hand wraps around her soft wrist to steady her fingers for him. He takes them in his mouth again, gently caressing them with his tongue, silently wishing to himself that he could kiss her with this much fervor and passion. He looks into her eyes before closing them, letting out a soft groan of contentment before pulling away. “Tastes amazing.” he says, wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers.

Her fingers miss his mouth, they feel cold and incomplete without him. She felt lightheaded and breathless. There’s that beat of silence again, but this time it's longer than before. She pants ever so slightly, and he notices, “You alright?” he smirks.

“Fine…breakfast is ready then,” she replies, her voice trembling with this new feeling coursing through her body. It was warm and soft, unlike anything she had ever felt before, she turned away and faced the stove again, “Go sit down, I'll fix you a plate.” refusing to make eye contact with him. They finally sit down to eat, although this time it’s different. She stares at him while he eats, trying to figure out this newfound warmth pooling in her, why everything he does makes her heart race.

“Missed your cookin’, forgot how good it was.” he says, before taking another bite. “It ain’t that good, I appreciate your kindness though.” she replies, pushing her food around with her fork. “Compared to the stuff I gotta eat, this is like society folk’s meals.” She flashes him a small smile in return, her thoughts are loud and her heart is racing, “Society folk, huh?” her voice warbles, she tries to continue the conversation, but her thoughts are clouded by him. The way he ate was almost bewitching to her, she stares at his hands and looks away trying not to get caught. Her own fingers twitch watching him take bite after bite, reminding herself of the feeling of his mouth around her.

“When you leavin’ town?” she asks, not really wanting to know the answer. The soft early morning light starts to peer through the kitchen window. The atmosphere is still, yet full of meaning. He puts the cup up to his lips to drink long enough to ponder her question, before swallowing the warm liquid and placing the cup back down. “In a couple hours, most likely. Why you askin’?”

She shrugs and continues to eat, her left hand resting on the side of her neck. Her eyes refused to meet his, scared that he might see the disappointment in them. He exhales, something is off about her, “Somethin’ botherin’ you?”. She shrugs again and stares at her food, moving it around with her fork once more, “Why you leavin’ so soon?” she asks in an exhale, worried that she might be overstepping.

He sighs, she didn’t need to know the real answer. “Work, darlin’...I’m on a...business trip,” he gestures vaguely. She doesn’t meet his eyes purposefully, trying to hide the tears in her eyes, it wasn’t fair that he made her feel things she never felt before, only to walk out and leave her forever. She prided herself to not be one of those girls that cry over boys. She always believed there were bigger and better things to fuss over–yet here she was. But what was the crime in missing someone? “Business trip…” she repeats under her breath before clearing her throat.

“What? Do you not believe me?” Arthur scoffs incredulously.

“It’s not that…you ain’t given me a reason to think otherwise but…” she pauses, trying not to overstep. “...But what?” He crosses his arms over and leans in closer against the table, the buttons of his work shirt pulling from the broad of his chest, she can’t help but pan down for a glance, her heart rate picks up at the sight of him. He was such a man– in the best ways possible. It was in his essence, his scent, the way he walked and talked, it drove her mad— it was so heavenly it agitated her.

“I don’t know, I ain't see why you gotta hightail it outta here. It’s been 4 years since you last been here and I mean for pity’s sake you just got here–”

“--And that bothers you?” he interrupts, slightly cocking his head at her.

She stammers, “I-I mean I feel like it’s not polite–”

He scoffs loudly, “Sorry I didn’t know you looked at me and saw the pinnacle of manners,” he places the cup of coffee back down,“Tell me what’s actually goin’ on,” he was starting to get to defensive. What had she heard about him that was making her so skittish?

The bantering conversation dies down and there’s a shared, intense silence between the two of them.

Oh. Oh.

He felt like a fool for not realizing it sooner–or more accurately making a wrong assumption about how she felt and potentially wrecking a beautiful friendship. He stares at her across the table as she continues to eat.

“You gon’ miss me when I’m gone?” he murmurs low, studying her face, his voice shattering the silence in the air. His words suspended in the air like a fruit ready to be plucked. “We’ll all miss you,” she replies softly, trying to avoid what he’s implying. He shakes his head and grunts loudly in response, “I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout them... I’m talkin’ ‘bout you.”

She nods silently, before looking back up and meeting his gaze. For a moment, just a single, solitary moment–he forgot about the war raging in his mind of whether he was a bad person, or feeling like he wasn’t good enough for her. It was just him and the preacher’s daughter, sharing a meal and a loving silence.

“Mr. Morgan–”

“You ain’t gotta be so formal with me hon, just call me Arthur.”

“Okay, Arthur, can I ask you something?”

He perks up at her statement, his curiosity giving her permission to ask. “I know you ain’t comfortable goin’ to church and I respect that,” she pauses to search for any discomfort for where the conversation was going, there was none, so she continues, “but I was wondering’ if you’d come to our annual picnic, this week. If you’re apprehensive about it being a church event– it's not. The whole town is gonna be there. It’s a town event, but I thought you'd like a bite to eat before you leave.”

He exhales and grins, “First breakfast and now a picnic? You’re really worried I'm gonna miss a meal huh?” he jokes, but she stares back at him, searching his face for an answer. His thoughts all align and he prepares to explain his reasons as to why he can’t come and that he’ll be back on the road in a couple of hours, but his words betray him, and he hears himself say something unlike him,

“I’ll be there.” He looks at her free hand resting on the table, and gently envelops it in his.

“I’m glad, it means a lot.” she murmurs, a sparkle of joy in her eye. She stands and starts to clear the table, placing all the dishes in the sink.

There is a deep well of feeling and connection between the two of them, one could cut the chemistry with a knife. It pounds in his chest and he doesn’t know if he should act on his instincts–but dammit if he wasn’t going to at least try to do something about it.

He rises from his seat and approaches her, standing as close as he can to her. Feeling his presence, she laughs, “ain’t they ever taught you about personal space?” She looks over and he’s smiling back, but there’s a seriousness to him. She does a double take of how close he is, her smile faltering a bit, realizing he’s not kidding.

“I reckon you ain’t ever been this close to a man before, huh?” He ghosts the side of his finger against her chin. She shivers, goosebumps rise on the back of her neck and down her arms, before shaking her head.

“Why you tremblin’ doll? I ain’t gon’ hurt ya.” he murmurs.

“I know,” she pauses, trying to find the words, “I just—never been looked at in this way before.”

He scoffs playfully, “Oh you’re more naive than I originally thought,” he looks over her face and down her body once more, “Men are definitely lookin’-- they just ain’t sayin’ nothin’ ‘cause you’re the preacher’s daughter–and they have a hell of a lot of sense to not say anythin.” he leans closer to her.

“Well…what does that make you then?” she shifts against him.

“A fool–probably. But it ain’t stopped me from sayin’ anythin’ before,” he exhales and continues to gingerly stroke her chin, admiring her beauty.

His voice becomes low, “You ever think ‘bout a man lovin’ on you baby?” The question vibrates in his chest. Her heart rate quickens, a beautiful shade of crimson spreads across her cheeks at the idea of something so scandalous, “Lovin’ on me?” she repeats.

“Yeah, you know, what married people do.”

For the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to say. She often would imagine in vivid detail, what she would do if she found herself in a scenario such as this. It was essentially drilled into her mind from a young age– that a man making advances was to strictly be condemned. That her purity was to be intact for her husband and only for her husband. The script of her imagination playing in her head, she’s seen it a hundred times–”sorry sir, I’m flattered but I ain’t interested”. It’s all she had to say…although for some reason she was rendered speechless, hanging onto his every word like her life depended on it.

in this moment– in some sick and twisted game of life, it was almost as if Arthur was forcing her to pick between which sin to commit– lying: claiming to not be interested in him; when in reality, the curiosity was gnawing in the pit of her stomach, or lust: throwing caution to the wind and letting him carry her bridal style to defile her in the bedroom that she grew up in.

She decides lying would weigh less on her soul.

“Mr. Morgan this ain’t proper…it’s immoral. I-I don’t entertain thoughts like that. I ain’t got a reason to.” she denies, refusing to acknowledge something so foul. It pained her to lie, she felt the guilt starting to creep in. Arthur smirks at her response, he doesn’t buy it, although her defiance and naivety makes his own pulse quicken. “Mmph, I see. So you don’t ever think about what your wedding night would be like? To finally have a man to warm your bed? Touching you all over and keepin’ you satisfied?”

Her breath hitches at the idea, never considering that a thought so filthy could have a moral loophole; but she dismisses the thought as soon as it comes, she continues to shake her head. The improperness of the conversation and her willingness to lie starts to make her feel sick with guilt. She shouldn’t be talking like this, not with a man no less. The mix of good and bad emotions swirl in her stomach like a bittersweet concoction about to boil over. As for Arthur, that insistent attitude of hers turns him on even more, and he can’t help himself to gamble how far he could go, “Oh c’mon darlin’, not even how it would feel? To have a man take his time with you and run his hands up your–”

He found her limit, she cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. “No Arthur!” she barks, “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore! You will not bring this–this debauchery in this house; especially with my Pa in the next room, have you no shame?!”

He knows he should take her seriously but the way she’s yelling at him is getting him even more worked up. He laughs a hearty chuckle, “yeah for somethin’ so repulsive to ya– ya sure are flushed!”

“Stop it Arthur it’s not funny.” She frowns, the guilt washes up in her like a shoreline. This must be what Papa was warning about on Sundays, the sin that drives a person crazy, to commit crimes and all sorts of deeds all in the name of passion. Arthur was creating new emotions she had never experienced before, the only cost of receiving it was with a backing note of remorse. Although, there was a cadence to Arthur that beckoned her to his presence. Like a siren beckons the sailor out to sea–only she was the sailor.

They gaze into each other’s eyes, unwavering and raw, “Arthur,” she exhales, leaning softly into his touch. He grunts in response, gazing lovingly back at her, his index tracing down her neck, making its way down to her collarbone, the other hand resting gently on her hip. She squeaks at the sudden weight of his hands on her, newfound warmth spreading in her. He scans her face for any hesitation, when suddenly she finds the words she’s looking for.

“I’m waitin’ til marriage…”

He figured as much. What was he even doing? He knows this already. Lightly removing his hand, his palm hovers over her hip. He treats her like glass, scared he was gonna break her if he touched her at all– what a delicate little thing gazing up at him. He blinks and clears his throat, staggering a couple steps back. “Right. I know…I don’t know what I was—I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped, miss.”

She crosses her arms and as if she is trying to warm them, her fingers finding a way to the pendant Arthur rescued for her, fidgeting with it between her fingers, “You didn’t…I’m not upset… I just– I think– it would be best for you to leave now. For both of us.” she murmurs, “I’ll give Pa your regards.” He nodded in response, pressing his lips into a fine line, “Okay” he says barely above a whisper.

“Mr. Morgan?” his heart sank at her sudden formality— a fear that he ruined everything between them began swirling behind his chest, he came to a halt at her words.

“You still coming to the picnic?”

He stands by the backdoor, loitering around the frame, before looking back over his shoulder, he exhales and gives her a small, sad, smile, “Thank you for the meal, darlin’. It was nice seeing you again.” The door hinge squeaks before he walks outside, the sound of boots shuffling against the gravel becomes quieter and quieter before it dissipates completely. She’s left with the burn of his shadow haunting the doorframe and the ghost of his touch printed permanently on her frame.

thank u sm for reading it means so much to me truly <3 hope you all enjoyed part one !!!

#this is my first full fic i’ve ever posted im so scared #i’ve proofread this 40 times i’m sick of looking at it #if i missed anything lmk!!!!#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #— rinnie writes ♡

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sunday-kisser · 5 months ago

Text

—» Cozy Tart & Sun's Blessing

pairing: baker!reader x florist!sunday!au

genre: fluff, more fluff, fem!reader, strangers to lovers-ish

notes: it's been a while since i've written anything of that kind, i might be back if my inspiration allows me to be hehe. (PS my style might not be everyone's cup of tea and i know this isn't the best piece but i do hope it's somewhat enjoyable nonetheless) have fun ~

One rainy, late friday afternoon was all it took for your life to change entirely. Your shift in the bakery was almost over, when a young, handsome looking man walked through the heavy glass doors into the ever-cozy bakery.

He was drenched, gray-blueish hair sticking to his insanely handsome face — which he ran one of his unoccupied hands through, to free himself of any uncomfortable sensations. He looked like he ran straight out of some shampoo commercial. How was it fair for someone to look that gorgeous? Enough of that, he's a potential customer, stay professional!

You wondered if he had forgotten his umbrella or if the storm outside blew it out of his hands. It did happen to you just a few weeks prior, but he didn't seem like the person to be clumsy, or did he?

Said man took slow but deliberate steps in your direction and as his eyes finally found yours already watching him, his expression changed from one of discomfort into something much more relaxed and he let out a sigh he didn't know he held back. After all, the comfortable atmosphere combined with the sweet smell of pastries already lifted his mood greatly.

You were stood behind the counter, already awaiting his order, as you gave him your best smile. He was the last customer after all, might as well make the best of it and help this handsome wet cat of a man make this evening less depressing than the weather outside.

You wouldn't want it to rain even more cats and dogs.

His gentle voice reached your ears, though he did sound a little bit worn out from a hard day. "Good evening ma'am, I'd like to order a hot herbal tea—" he paused for a second to think, watched your expression carefully and then added, "and please add the last two pudding tarts to the list, thank you."

Oh, so he's polite and handsome.

You were so deep inside your own bubble that you didn't even realize that you were staring right into his soul.

"Excuse me—" he looked at your name tag to address you properly, "Miss [name], is something the matter?"

Blinking once, then twice you finally managed to come back to your senses. Goodness, how many times in the span of the last two minutes did you start to imagine a future with him? Get yourself together.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, "Excuse me, Sir! It must be the rainy weather getting to me. I'll get your order ready this instant."

The man in front of you let out a smooth huff of his own as he replied, "don't you worry a thing. The weather surely does behave quite out of order today."

A quick glance out of the big window in the corner told you that it would be out of order for quite a bit longer. It was then, that you heard a quiet rasp from the man in front of you until he added, "And please, Sunday is just fine."

Sunday? Is just fine? But wasn't today Friday?

You didn't think too much of it, nodded your head in his direction and turned around to prepare his tea. The smile was still on your face, albeit a little bit wonky due to your confusion.

Two minutes later and everything had been prepared. One of his delicate hands put the cash on the counter while the other took the tea and the bag filled with his goods.

The business was done and he was about to leave, walking back into the mess that was called the world outside of your little warm shop. Letting him leave like that while he was drenched felt so utterly wrong but could you just intervene in a strangers' business? Well, it surely didn't hurt to be nice.

Reaching your hand out into nothingness, you uttered a soft, "Please Sir, consider staying for a little bit longer until the rain has calmed down. If you'd like, you can enjoy your tea and your tarts at one of our free tables." You then took a breath and pointed to his still very wet hair, "I can get you a towel too if you'd like!"

Sunday stopped walking, considered your kind words for a second and then turned to let your gazes meet once more, a warm and appreciative smile already on his lips. "I appreciate your offer Miss [name] but I fear I can't just overstay irresponsibly and take up more of your precious time. You're off your shift already, aren't you?"

Your gaze swiftly wandered to one of the clocks behind you and indeed, your shift had already ended 10 minutes ago.

Just as you wanted to give him one of your very smart retorts, Sunday had already started walking to the exit again. His right hand had lifted just high enough to let you see him wave at you.

The door closed behind him and a humongous sigh finally pushed past your lips. You didn't even get to know his name, what a shame.

But you know what they say. One always meets twice in ones life.

While you were cleaning up the rest of the tables and the counter, you couldn't stop thinking about everything that went down earlier at all. Was it weird to think that something felt different with him? You've never really thought of anyone after they entered nor after they left your shop, so why him?

Maybe you just needed some sleep, yes that was probably it. Tomorrow, everything would be back to normal, your heart would be calm again and your face wouldn't give away the shadows of today.

Say sike right now. This new day was something entirely out of this world.

The rain pitter-pattered it's way down onto the streets even harder than yesterday. Could a certain water god be any more generous with his soul shattering sky shower?

And to make things worse? You were late to your best friend's birthday. Could your day get any better? You swore you were a positive person but the rain truly made you question the odds.

The way to the flower shop felt like forever. The streets were flooded, your pants and the hem of your coat were splattered with mud due to the puddles everywhere and your hair was drenched. You looked like a wild cat that had been dropped into the bathtub after it rolled around in dirt. At least you didn't drink any coffee today or else you'd be the equivalent of a wild wet cat on catnip.

The task was simple, go to the flower shop, get a huge bouquet of your best friends' favorite flowers and then rush to her place and prepare the rest before she wakes up.

Your wet hand slipped off the flower shop's door handle twice before you managed to open it properly to let yourself in.

The bell at the door rang just as you let out a huff, finally being out of the rain.

A young woman with blueish hair greeted you just as she heard the bell chime, a gentle smile on her beautiful face. "Hello and welcome to our flower—" she quickly stopped herself after taking in your poor state.

She rushed into the back of the shop and then you heard some quiet, hushed whispers. Oh no, were you that hideous today that even the flowers were unwilling of being in your presence? Wait, flowers can't whisper, can they?

A few moments passed and another person emerged with the friendly looking woman in tow. Oh, this couldn't be. Surely you must still be dreaming because there was no way this was how you'd be meeting Mr. Drenched-But-Still-Handsome from yesterday?

Said man stepped forward, he eyed you with a gentle smile on his lips once more. "It seems the weather isn't in either of our favors. Please allow me to get you a towel."

Before you were able to even as much as utter a word, the woman introduced herself to you. You learned that her name was Robin and that she was the sister of the man who managed to worm his way into your brain over the course of 10 minutes.

You didn't know which facial expressions you were making right now but you were sure they must've been entertaining, considering the fact that Robin was holding back a chuckle herself.

Sunday came back with a towel in one hand and a mug in the other. "I wouldn't want to overstep but may I ask you to take off your coat? I'd rather you don't catch a cold."

And so things went their way. Sunday sat you down on one of the chairs in the back, towel over your head and mug in your hand. Robin hung up your coat to dry, they insisted you couldn't possibly leave like this.

Robin decided to "run some errands" soon after you settled in comfortably but didn't leave before telling you, "You know, Sunday — I mean, my brother told me all about yesterday. You must have left one kind of an impression on him. Rest assured that you're always welcome here."

While she was gone, you and Sunday spent some more time together. He eventually made you sit at the front with him while he took care of some of his own customers. What kind of gentleman would he be if he let you sit at the back all alone? After all, YOUR beauty didn't only brighten up his days — the flowers would like to have a word in too.

But wait, did Robin call him Sunday or were you just slow? You were pretty sure today was Saturday.

That very same fateful Saturday on which you scored yourself a date with the most handsome man you've ever had the honor to lay your eyes upon.

And while your best friend didn't get to wake up to the surprise you had planned for her, she still got to spend her special day with you. Just a little later, as the sun shone brightly in the sky again with no traces of rain left behind.

You wouldn't even know it had rained, weren't it for Sunday's contact in your phone, his message already reflecting off the display.

"Would you like to go out with me tomorrow? I heard pudding tarts taste the best when enjoyed under the sun."

On a Sunday. He is in fact just fine.

#soph's whispers 🫧#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #this is just a silly little au!#I'm happy as long as just one person enjoys this ^^#take care and stay hydrated y'all 🪽#divider by @cafekitsune #sunday-kisser

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bigtreefest · 1 month ago

Note

Three Misses and A Bliss

Hehee, Ro! Gosh, this lends itself to such a messy good time and I do be in my messy era👀

The question is: who does this beg for?

Based off this ask game

Three Misses and A Bliss

Is this lowkey a spinoff of The Rainmaker?👀 maybe.

Bullrider! Ari Levinson x Reader

He tried, he really did, to somehow get to you, but he didn’t know how. It never seemed to be the right time. He’d never been so drawn to a person, never wanted to be so good for them, and yet you were almost unattainable. Just out of his reach.

The first time Ari met you was at a bar, at some girls night that he couldn’t dare to disrupt. He’d heard too many horror stories from the other riders about groups of women these days. It was better to let you come to him. Which you did, standing by his stool to grab another round for your friends. You had a charming smile, an easy demeanor, laughed at his one-off statements and jokes that others dismissed. And then just like that, you were gone.

Until the next time. Ari hadn’t been having a good day. He got thrown off the bull at the rodeo, scored low, and was ready to take a walk of shame right to the grocery store at midnight. The ice cream aisle called his name to tend to his wounds, both physically and metaphorically. And there you were: right in the cooler next to him, taking the last pint of his favorite. How could he blame you? You had good taste. And far too big of a heart, offering him the carton when you caught a glimpse of his black eye. He politely turned it down, but suggested coffee as a way to make it even. To which you replied that your boyfriend wouldn’t like that very much. So he left it there.

And then there was the time when he saw you at a restaurant. One far too rich for his blood, but a potential new sponsor was wining and dining him. Ari didn’t need to be there that long. He was gonna take the deal with minimal negotiation, when you caught his eye, sitting at a candlelit dinner all alone. You checked your watch for the seventh time in five minutes. That jerk stood you up. Ari accepted the new partnership under the stipulation that they pay for your meal and a ride home.

And then there was today. A really important day for you. Your first shot at a live broadcast as a sports reporter after years of simply writing teleprompter scripts. Your network was a big one, rewarding you with the opportunity to be the first to interview the winner of the bull riding tournament that had taken up the arena all weekend. As you made your way to the podium, you couldn’t help the way your smile grew even bigger than the one you slapped on for TV. The handsome bull rider ran a hand through his sweaty hair and beamed at you, coming right up to the camera despite his reputation for almost never taking interviews. You had to just roll with it, as you read the scrawled cue cards next to the lens.

“Mr. Levinson, what comes next?”

Ari leaned down the the microphone, sparkling blue gaze locking on to yours as he pulled a rose out of the bouquet in his hand and held it out for you.

“Next, I ask a very special lady that I’ve been pining after for months to go on a date with me and seal the deal with a kiss.”

For a second, Ari was the only other thing in the world. You grabbed the stem of the rose out of his hand, furiously nodded, and braced yourself against his chest as he tipped you back, locking his lips with yours.

#thanks for dropping in #Essie answers #fake fic title ask game #ask game #ask bait #ari levinson #bull rider! ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fanfiction #ari Levinson fluff #ari Levinson angst

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loveslilies · 2 months ago

Text

❪ ❥ ❫ ɾ.eligion | ƈ.sn one-shot (18+)

⋆ song: religion

⋆ synopsis: In a world overrun by the undead, you and San fight to survive. When moving bases one misstep almost cost you your life, however San is there to remind you he's there.

⋆ genre: angst (a little), fluff, hurt/comfort, smut (18+)

⋆ warnings: fem bodied reader, zombies (this is a zombie au), near death experience, leon kennedy inspired San (yes that's a warning), themes of praise and worship, panty sniffing (I'm not sorry), both of them are down bad, pet names (berry hehe, angel/angel face, baby, pretty/sweet girl)

⋆ word count: 2.2k

The wind howls through the desolate streets, carrying with it the scent of decay and forgotten dreams. Your group moves swiftly, every footfall deliberate, each one a reminder of how fragile survival has become. The old base was no longer safe—supplies dwindling, walls cracking under pressure—and now you’re on the run, desperately hoping that the next shelter will hold.

Last night, the air in the base was suffocating, thick with unspoken tension. Flickering lanterns cast trembling shadows against cracked, peeling walls. You sat beside San on a battered mattress, your head nestled against his shoulder. The others spoke in hushed voices, tracing potential routes, whispering fears that lingered in the silence of the dark.

San’s fingers drifted over the back of your hand, tracing absent patterns. “We’ll be okay,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost lost in the gloom. You wanted to believe him, but the gnawing emptiness in your stomach told you that safety was nothing more than an illusion. Outside, the distant groans of the undead carried on the wind—a cruel reminder that peace, like everything else, was fleeting.

“Rest,” he urged, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "I’ll keep watch."

You wanted to argue, to remind him that he needed rest just as badly as you, but you knew better—he wouldn’t listen. His stubbornness was as familiar as the darkness around you. So, instead, you squeezed his hand, letting exhaustion claim you. And as sleep pulled you under, you trusted that when you awoke, he’d still be there, standing guard in the quiet, watching over you.

The night is bitterly cold, and the streets are unnervingly still—too still. A silence hangs in the air, thick with tension, and your nerves coil tighter with every step.

“Angel, stay close. Don’t wander too far,” San murmurs, his voice a quiet command laced with protective urgency. He’s slightly ahead, keeping you within his line of sight. His fingers are interlaced with yours, a firm, steady anchor in a world that has long forgotten warmth.

You nod, fingers tightening around the strap of your backpack, the weight of it grounding you, a small semblance of stability in this sea of decay.

And then it happens—too quickly. One misstep. One fleeting moment of carelessness. The brittle remains of an old car door give way under your foot, snapping with an unforgiving crack.

Then the snarls hit.

The shadows lurch toward you before your brain even catches up. A flood of the undead, woken from their grim slumber, their eyes hazy but intent, bodies jerking unnaturally toward the sound. And it’s you they’re drawn to.

Your breath freezes in your chest, the air thick and suffocating, as your pulse hammers in your ears. Your blood turns to ice.

“Run—!” someone yells, but your body doesn’t obey. Your legs feel like lead, heavy and slow, as cold, rotting hands latch onto you, pulling, grasping, clawing at your clothes, your arms, your legs.

A scream rises in your throat, but it’s swallowed by panic, choking the air from your lungs.

And then—Gunfire. A blur of motion. A force yanks you backward, sharp and sudden, enough to knock the breath from your lungs.

“BERRY!” San’s voice slices through the chaos, sharp and filled with a desperate clarity, cutting through the growls of the walkers. He’s there, pulling you away, his knife flashing in the dim moonlight, slashing through decayed flesh with brutal precision. His gun is a blur in his other hand, each shot ringing out with deadly accuracy, tearing through the night.

You stumble, knees buckling, but his grip on you is unyielding. He won’t let you fall. He never does.

And just like that, it’s over. The bodies crumple, lifeless once more, their twisted forms left in the street. The world goes still again.

You’re shaking—whether from the rush of adrenaline or the ice-cold grip of fear, you can’t tell. Your chest heaves in desperate breaths, lungs on fire, throat raw as you try to steady yourself, your world spinning.

San turns to you, his face streaked with sweat and dirt, but somehow—impossibly—still San. Your San. His dark eyes scan you with frantic urgency, as if checking every inch of you, as if searching for any sign of injury, any sign that you're still here, still alive.

“Baby? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to reassure him, but the words get lost in the tremor of your hands. They betray you, shaking violently as they clutch at the fabric of his jacket. He doesn’t need to hear the words; he sees right through you.

“Breathe, angel face. Breathe.” His voice is soft, yet steady, as he steps closer, his hands warm as they gently cradle your face. "You're okay. You're okay. I’ve got you."

Before you can even stop yourself, your body sags forward, the weight of everything crashing down. Your forehead presses against his chest, and his arms are there, instinctively, pulling you in tightly. His heartbeat thunders in your ear, steady and strong, the only thing real in this chaotic world. His warmth seeps into you, grounding you, reminding you that you’re still here. Alive.

“I’d never let anything happen to you.” His voice is low, but the promise it carries is unbreakable, like steel wrapped in tenderness. His hands stroke your back in soothing motions, slow and deliberate. His lips brush against your hair, and though you can’t make out the words, you feel them, woven through his touch. Safe. Loved.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trembling breath escaping your chest. You cling to him tighter, fingers digging into his jacket as if it’s the only thing holding you together.

“…I know. I trust you."

The new base is far from ideal, but it’s shelter, and for now, it’s enough. The walls are cracked, the floors uneven, but there’s a kind of peace in the quiet that settles around you. The dim light from a few lanterns flickers softly, casting gentle shadows against the bare walls, giving the space an almost comforting glow. You and San have been busy, setting up what little you have left, organizing supplies, and securing the doors as best you can. The hum of the wind outside is distant, not a threat but a reminder of how far you’ve come—how much further you still have to go.

San moves about the room, his steps are purposeful but slow, like he’s trying to create a sense of normalcy in the world. His hands work with practiced ease, unpacking gear, checking weapons, and making sure everything is in place. But there’s something softer in the air tonight, something different. The usual urgency, the rush to survive, is a little quieter now.

When everything’s finally set, he pauses and looks over at you, a tired smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes that you don’t often see—a soft kind of relief. It’s only when his gaze meets yours that you realize how much you need this moment, how much you both need it.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lower than usual, the weight of everything they’ve been through hanging in the air between you. “We made it.” It’s not just a statement; it’s a quiet, heartfelt acknowledgment of the fact that you’re here, and you’re alive. Against all odds.

You nod, your shoulders sagging slightly, the tension finally leaving your body. It’s been a long, grueling journey, but you’re together. And for now, that’s enough.

You step over to him, moving with a slow, deliberate grace. His arms open without hesitation as you reach him, wrapping around you like a shield, grounding you. The warmth of his embrace is a balm to the raw edges of your nerves, and for the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you murmur into his chest, the words feeling more fragile than they should, but somehow more real.

San presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hands running in soothing motions up and down your back. “Always, little berry. I’ll always be here.”

There’s a long pause, just the two of you standing in the quiet of the new base, the faint flicker of lantern light casting its warm glow around you. The noise of the outside world—the danger, the chaos—feels miles away, and in this little moment, everything is still. Everything is safe.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the soft glow of the lanterns and the quiet between you. He takes a deep breath like he’s finally letting the weight of everything settle. “We’ve been through a lot tonight, haven’t we?” he says, his voice rough but gentle.

You smile faintly, nodding. “Yeah. But at least we’re still here.”

San’s lips curve into a dimpled smile at your optimism, and he presses his forehead to yours for a second, closing his eyes. “We’re always going to be okay, angel. As long as we have each other.”

You lean into him, a soft sigh slipping past your lips, the exhaustion finally creeping in. You don’t have all the answers, and you don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but right now, in this quiet, fragile moment, you know one thing for certain: you’re safe. And for the first time in a long while, it feels like it could be enough.

San opens his eyes, his eyes deep with something more than just the exhaustion of the day. There’s something raw and tender in the way he looks at you like he’s trying to memorize every detail. His hand reaches out to gently trace your cheek, his thumb brushing over the soft skin, and for a moment, all you can do is close your eyes and lean into his touch.

“You’re everything to me, you know that?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to send a warmth spreading through your chest.

You open your eyes and meet his gaze, the weight of his words sinking in. You smile, soft and shy, feeling the connection between you deepen with each breath, but you don't reply. You feel it—everything that’s unsaid. The trust. The safety. The devotion.

San’s hand moves slowly down to your neck, his fingers gentle as they brush over the pulse that beats beneath your skin. “I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your forehead in a tender kiss. “You’re my world, angel. My everything.”

You lean into him, your heart racing slightly at the weight of his words, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. “I’m here. Always.”

His voice is soft but firm, like a promise, and in this moment, it feels like the most sacred thing. There’s a deep vulnerability in the way he holds you like he’s giving you all of himself, offering everything, as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“I need you,” you whisper, your voice trembling just slightly, the words raw but full of trust.

San looks down at you, his dark eyes filled with so much warmth, so much tenderness, that it almost hurts. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing across your cheeks. “I know, baby,” he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. “I need you too. You’ve got me, completely. Always.”

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in the softest kiss you’ve ever felt, slow and deep, as though he’s savoring every moment. The kiss lingers, gentle but full of unspoken promises, and when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You’re safe with me,” he says, his voice barely above a breath. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll protect you. Always.”

You nod, your heart full, and you reach up to touch his cheek, the warmth of his skin grounding you. “I know. I trust you.”

His lips curl into a soft smile, and he presses another kiss to your forehead, his hand moving to gently caress your back, the touch comforting, reassuring. “I’ll never let go of you,” he murmurs. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll make sure you know every day how much I cherish you. How much I love you.”

The words send a ripple of warmth through your chest, and you lean in, your lips finding his once more in a kiss that’s full of everything: tenderness, gratitude, and the quiet promise of what’s to come. Slowly, the kiss deepens, your bodies moving closer, your hearts syncing as one. You pull him into you, your hands running over the familiar, reassuring lines of his body, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you both.

But even as the world outside rages on, inside, with San, it’s nothing but softness. It’s safety. It’s a vow spoken in every touch, in every kiss. A promise that no matter what comes next, you’ll always have this. Always have him.

The room was dim, bathed in the flickering light of a single candle, its soft glow casting long shadows across the walls. The only sounds that filled the space were their steady breaths, mingling with the faint creaks of the buildings around them. It was a haven, their new base—still foreign, but now filled with the quiet hum of intimacy and a promise of protection.

San's hands were everywhere—on your face, your neck, your shoulders—tenderly memorizing every inch of you, as though each touch was a vow. His eyes, dark and heavy with emotion, locked with yours, filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

“I need you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe you were here, in his arms, so close. His lips brushed against your cheek, feather-soft, as you shivered. "So badly. But more than that, I need to make sure you’re safe. That you always know you’re protected. You’ll never have to worry again.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you reach up, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw, feeling the faint rasp of his stubble under her touch. “I trust you,” you whispered back, your voice thick with emotion, your hands trembling slightly. “You’ve already shown me more than I ever expected. You’ve given me everything.”

San’s lips quirked into a soft smile at your words, but it quickly faded into something more intense as his mouth descended on yours. The kiss was slow, deep, and filled with an aching need, his lips gently coaxing yours open for his tongue to slip through. You sigh into him, your hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer. The pressure of his body against yours sent a rush of heat through you, and you felt your pulse quicken.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispered against your lips as he pulled away just enough to speak, his voice thick with promise. “Every day, I’ll make sure you know how much you mean to me. I’ll remind you of my love, my devotion. I’ll show you, in every touch, in every kiss.”

Your heart raced as his words hit you like a wave, and you let out a soft, breathless laugh. “I feel it,” you replied, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. “I feel it in every moment with you. In everything.”

San’s eyes darkened at your words, the intensity of his gaze making you ache for him in ways you didn’t fully understand. He kissed you again, harder this time, as though trying to convey everything he couldn’t say with words. He moved over you, his body hovering just above yours, heat radiating between them as he kissed you deeply, his hands trailing down your sides, feeling the soft curves of your body beneath his touch.

“You’re mine,” he muttered, almost possessively, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you into him, making you gasp. “Mine to protect. Mine to love. Mine to keep safe from the world outside.”

You arched up into him, pressing yourself closer, your chest against his, your fingers moving down to his back, feeling the hard muscles there, the tension coiling between you both as your bodies met with a slow, rhythmic pull. “I want you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the need that was building inside you. “I need you to keep me safe. To never let go.”

San’s breath caught at your words, and he buried his face in your neck, his lips brushing your skin with reverence as his hands moved, gently but with purpose, over every inch of you. “I will,” he promised, his voice low. “I’ll never let go. You’re mine. Always. And I’ll never stop loving you. Never stop showing you how much you mean to me.”

Your heart thudded harder in your chest at the weight of his promise, and you leaned up to meet his lips again, pulling him into another kiss, deep and slow, savoring the sensation of him, of the heat of his mouth on yours, the soft urgency in each touch. Your hands roamed over his body, pulling him closer, urging him to come deeper into you.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered, his voice breaking through the haze of passion that clouded the air. His lips brushed against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Tell me how I can make you feel safe, feel loved. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you everything.”

“I need you to be with me,” you breathed, your voice a mixture of vulnerability and want. “I need you to hold me, to make me feel like I’m the only one who matters. Because you are to me.”

San’s grip tightened on you as he kissed her again, this time with more urgency, more passion. “You are,” he whispered against your lips. “You’re everything to me.”

San makes his way down, gently scattering kisses across your neck. He grabs the hem of your shirt, tugging gently for you to lift your arms as he slides it off of you. His lips make their way back to your neck as his kisses get greedier, yet you find yourself completely relaxing into him.

He smiles in between his kisses hearing your whimpers flow into his ears, all he can think about is how utterly cute you are as little whines and moans escape from your lips simply from his kisses and the way he sinks his teeth and sucks into your skin.

He travels down a little further before pulling back to gently unbutton the jeans blocking his way. His erection continues to grow against his pants as he slides yours off, placing soft kisses onto your soft skin as he gently bites into your hip.

San continues his endeavor scattering kisses on your skin he makes his way down to your legs until he stops at your ankle, whispering words of praise and worship. He assures you that you're forever safe with him by your side, your sworn protector he calls you.

To San, you are his angel that fell and landed in his arms in grace, and he swore from the day that he met you he would never let harm befall you. He leans over you once more playing a soft kiss on your lips.

His fingers toy with the waistband on your panties as he softly stares into your eyes, something about the emotions spoken in his eyes, your cunt squeezes over nothing as you observe the devotion, the love, the desire within them.

Finally, he slips them off of you taking in the soaked fabric. Bringing up the fabric up to his face he takes a deep inhale, eyes rolling back as he bask in the scent of you. Your heart stutters a little as you watch, the effect you seem to have on him settles a warm feeling in your chest.

Pocketing them, he unbuttons his shirt agonizingly slow as his gaze travels across your naked body, you feel a certain heat pooling in your stomach as you wait.

He slips his pants off and drops them in the pile of clothing on the side, your head spins when you notice the size of his cock. It's not your first time seeing it yet it manages to surprise you every time.

San notices you're observing and he checks your gaze to make sure it's okay, you give him your best face of reassurance as he hovers over you once again and lines up to your hole ready to push his cock in.

Slowly he slides in, taking small strides to make sure he doesn't hurt you. You both groan in relief when he finally stuffs you full. Tears start to fill in your eyes as you try your best to bat them away, your walls softly squeezing against his cock that fits so perfectly within you.

San liters soft kisses across your cheeks as tears fall from your pretty eyes. As your bodies moved together, your connection deepened, each kiss, each touch speaking of promises, of devotion, of a love that was fierce, unyielding, and unwavering.

It felt as if the world outside ceased to exist—there was only the safety you both found in each other’s arms, the love that wrapped around you both like a shield.

"I've got you pretty girl, I've got you. My girl."

Your words were stuck in your throat, the only thing crossing your mind was the image of his cock buried deep inside your cunt as a feeling of warmth and love crossed your chest.

Your thighs ached and trembled from the feeling of his cock drilling into you. This man has you wrapped around his finger and you have him wrapped around yours.

Gasp and moans escape from both of your lips at the feeling of San fucking your pussy, covered in slick and precum. He groans at the feeling of your plush walls squeezing him.

"You feel so good, so perfect. You're so perfect for me my sweet girl, you fit me like a glove."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your thighs clinch around his waist, with a struggle you manage to whisper a quiet, "I love you Sannie."

"I love you too sweet girl, my everything." Your moans grow louder at the way his cock hits all your spots, you squeeze against him almost impossibly tighter. The image of his eyes rolling back at the way your bodies rock against each other in harmony.

You gasp loudly as you feel the edge of your release. "I'm gonna-" you stop as you feel his thumb slide down to roll on your clit.

"Go on angel, you got this. Sannie's got you." the knot in your stomach tightens at his words as you start to babble out nonsense. Your body begins to twitch as you arch further into him. You both orgasm at the same time, crying out each other's names almost pathetically as his cum paints your walls.

You both slowly start to take breaths, still rocking against each other fucking your way through your orgasms as you cream all over his soaked cock.

When your high dies silence crosses the room as you both bask in the glow of each other, buried in each other's embraces. With a quick kiss to your lips, San pulls out, leaning back to watch the way his cum flows out of your hole wishing he could stay there a little longer.

He quickly gets up to grab a cloth he kept stored in his bag before making his way back to you wiping your body gently and remaining careful as your body tenses and twitches from the stimulation.

Finally finished he rids himself of the cloth making his way back into your shared bed where he wraps his arms around you.

“Always,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice trembling with emotion. “You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”

You pulled him back down for another kiss, your hands running over his skin, feeling the heat of him beneath your touch. “And I’ll always be yours,” you whispered against his lips, the words full of trust, full of promise.

San’s hands tightened around you, pulling you closer still, as if he couldn’t get close enough, as though he needed to be wrapped up in you, surrounded by you, forever.

“I’ll never let go,” he whispered, his voice full of finality. “Never. Not as long as I live.”

And with that promise, the world outside ceased to matter. All that existed was them, together, in a moment of pure, unbreakable connection.

⋆ a/n: as requested by 🐱, they're absolutely down bad for each other I know. this is honestly a new experience for me I've never written smut so I hope I delivered lol

⋆ taglist: @littlestarwoo @star1ren

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dialecticaldimensions · 23 days ago

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i have so many thoughts after watching per manum, this is not happening & deadalive - but you know what I keep going back to? Scully being sooooo damn certain that Mulder is the only choice to be the father of her child.

Literally both times we see a direct question posed to Scully about becoming a mum, she turns to Mulder as the potential father.

In home, when Mulder, addressing solely Scully’s journey into motherhood, asks her to find someone with good genetics, she looks at him and asks “what about yours?” ITS SO !!!!!!!!!! Because the implication is sooooo clear - would you have good genetics to help me have a baby.

And then in per manum, when Dr Perrenti asks her if she has someone in mind and that he can walk her through donor catalogues etc., Scully’s immediate concern was not WHO to ask but HOW to ask him. Watching her say that made me weird levels of feral, because what do you mean you have no hesitation, no second thoughts about who deserves to be the father of your child!!!!!

Scully is always so careful about her choices (i.e. med school, joining the fbi etc.) and has a need to have her choices validated by others, which is common arc we see her struggle through in many episodes. Then, to have her be SO certain that if anyone were to father a child with her, of course it would be Mulder. There’s no other choice, there was never any other choice (despite what later plot lines might imply).

And honestly, even Mulder leans into this a bit. Thinking of Emily and how Mulder just slipped into taking care of Emily so easily, because this was Scully’s child. Sure, he had reservations, but once Scully decided she wanted to raise this little girl, Mulder was fully alongside her. (I still think of him lifting Emily when she was sick and my heart just feels pain).

Genuinely makes me want to cry because I think it really shows how much they love each other (whether they know it/have admitted it to themselves or not). And my personal take, is that Mulder and Scully, by s4 (probably end of s2 tbh), already considered the other family. In the sense that, hell or highwater, they were bonded in some transcendent way, and nothing will erase/change the very permanent mark they’ve already made in each other. That whatever happens, they will always have a path (back) to each other.

In, deadalive at the funeral Scully says, all of Mulder’s family is gone and Mulder is the last. And I just knowwwww that Scully always felt that Mulder deserved to have a family, deserved to have his name/legacy preserved, and wanted to give that to him. You see this in the ways she will always consider/defend who he is as a person (thinking of early S2 when the files were gone and also Demons and closure/sein und zeit).

Skinner says ‘I don’t truly believe Mulder’s the last’ - I can’t fully tell what exactly skinner was implying but I want to believe (hehe) that he’s referencing Scully’s pregnancy. Scully’s face shows a whole range of emotion after that but I also want to believe she’s considering what it now truly means to be carrying his baby.

Mulder usually has all the pretty words of declarations and long, yearning gazes (which I love love love) but omg to me, scully without hesitation, without question, choosing to have a baby that’s half mulder (esp when the usual method of getting there, i.e. being married/being in a relationship is not there) is one of the most beautiful acts of love from scully to mulder. And I don’t think mulder truly even knows it!!!!!!!

Mulder wants a family because it was robbed from him. He also wants Scully to have her child because she was robbed of her choice to motherhood. But Scully, Scully’s choice is to have a family, a child with Mulder, because she wants to bring back that kind of love to both of them.

#idk if i'm even articulating myself well #but been thinking and thinking and thinking about this sm #also thinking about how it's so unfair that we never got to see them fully be family in any capacity 😭#or at least that's what it seems like from what i've heard/spoilers i've seen #txf #msr #the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #i love both of them sm #and just want them to have payoff for all the shit they've had to go through yknow #ok gonna stfu now #txf musings

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dekkiidan · 21 days ago

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some outer wilds sketchbook doodlies below the cut, mainly sketch head studies, to paint experiments to silly scribbles - I don't normally post traditional stuff and a lot of it is very unfinished hence keeping it below the cut for housekeeping purposes hehe

Some giftart - back from last year! @lutiaskokopelli's Firn on the left, and @neflil's Neph on the right!

This was back when I was experimenting with how I wanted to draw hearthian faces - as you can see I took a lot of inspiration from "anime" proportions regarding face shape and eyes - honestly, I still really vibe with how Firn and Neph came out, and I had a lot of fun with the paints!

my army of emotional support 3/4 view looking to the left hearthians; featuring Gabbro (@/eruraima's design, with Mohs looking respectfully), TUFF MY BELOVED; an early sketch of Stein in their MAU leather jacket and an idea for a punk rock crested Grey Lochian Hearthian (there's a whole bunch of untapped lore here but I won't infodump) based on Crested Newts. Their name is Calder.

fat wriggly baby - when I tell you my hatchling fever was going crazy and I NEEDED to draw babies, this was the only thing that would soothe me, haha! I only used coloured pencils and I'm still really happy with the texture and softness of their belly ;A;

some mohsies! a pretty mohs and a stupid comic idea that I'll one day actually make into a real comic - the idea of mohs being friendzoned by a quantum rock is too good

I THINK this was for an OWtober prompt? Nomai and Mask? Potentially? I remember being really pleased with this and then overworking it, but looking back on it, it's not that bad.

I hope you enjoyed my silly doodles! I try hard to keep my sketches and things loose and free from expectation - but honestly looking back at these I'd like to get back to using paints and texture again!

#outer wilds fanart #outer wilds spoilers #sketches #my art #outer wilds ocs #hearthian ocs #friends ocs

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keimunnn · 10 months ago

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I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCHHH 💗💗

Please for the love of Raava, write Korra x f! firebender reader. But wait, here's the kicker: make it enemies to lovers <33

It will firstly start with banter like "If you'd like to learn how a real pro bends, I could give you some private lessons." "You wanna go toe-to-toe with me, pretty girl?" And after that she fucks the reader's brains out <33

Degradation and a mix of praise is necessary thank you 🙏

BYE BYE LOVE YAAA <3

how a real pro bends

KORRA + F!READER

warnings: nsfw (18+) — firebender!reader, you're absolutely down bad for korra lol, fingering (she iced them up hehe), degradation and praise, use of the names; pretty girl, slut.

•

it was the day where you and your teammates watched the fire ferrets have their win on the last game, your eyes observed every movement that was being used by their team in order to claim your victory once your own team would go against them somehow. there was a feeling both of your teams would collide at some point, anyway.

arms crossed against your chest, tilting your head to the side, your teammates roared and cheered in enthusiasm as you all watched the tournament by the audience. your eyes slimmed, scanning a certain woman with blue eyes on the ring. a chuckle flew past your lips, already feeling giddy at the sight of the woman. you never really had the chance to look at the avatar up close, even outside the stadium.

the fact that you might go against her felt thrilling. in a way.

the entire time of watching the avatar from the crowd, you were silent. your teammates noticed, but only shrugged it off—that was just how you were. you had the habit of observing your potential opponents, hence why your team had always won each and every tournament the three of you had been in. it was a beneficial trait, which was fortunate for you and your team overall.

after the fire ferret's win, you strided over the gym near their waiting room, having a feeling one of them might be there. you, of course, were expecting the one you had your eyes on—the avatar. she did indeed intrigue you in so many ways than one. she was confident and strong. she had so much potential and skill as a whole. an ideal woman in your opinion. plus, she had those muscles that could probably have you drool in place—

your train of thought was interrupted from bumping into someone, making you hiss and curse softly under your mouth. with furrowed eyebrows, you were ready to just scold them off with your usual sass. but that died down when you realized who was in front of you. a smirk etched its way into your lips naturally, a hand on your hip with a twirl of your hair.

"well, well. it's you..." your voice was a bit soft, yet deep. the words trailed off as soon as your eyes scanned down her figure. she was absolutely out of breath, a bit sweaty with her white tank top engulfing her body that you oh-so wanted to see. your orbs went back up, staring right back into hers with another tilt of your head to look up at her. "the avatar, herself."

"uh," the avatar begins, clueless with a slightly raised brow. "am i supposed to know you? or do you need something from me?" her hand pats down against the back of her neck with a towel, clearly from working out and practicing her moves. you only chuckled back at her, crossing your arms and leaned against the doorframe with a small grin on your face.

"no need. just wanted to come by and see what my future opponent looks from up close. and dare i say that i can absolutely take you down."

your voice didn't waver, silently challenging the avatar in your own way. your confidence was obvious, seeping through your gaze. korra only looked at you, squinting a bit from your words. whatever the hell you said was definitely pumping her up. rolling her shoulders back, she looked down at you with fire in her eyes.

"oh, i've heard of you. you're that chick bolin kept warning me about. firebender, huh?"

a laugh erupted from your lips, a soft pat onto your stomach to calm you down once she'd discovered who you were. one of your fingers swiped an imaginary tear from your eyes before lighting a fire up from the tip of the same finger with a cocky smile on your face. you've been figured out. but that didn't scare you one bit. it felt exciting. too exciting.

"heard you were new to this, too. if you'd like to learn how a real pro bends, i could give you some private lessons."

korra only shook her head, an amused grin on her face once she took a hint if your words, of course it didn't sound like a tournament-like offer. you intended for it to sound that way. the avatar's arm rested right beside the doorframe you were leaning on, her face leaning down towards you at the same time with her usual crooked smirk on her own face.

"you wanna go toe-to-toe with me, pretty girl?"

•

there you were; your front pressed up against the wall with the avatar fucking your cunt with her fingers pounding inside you. though, before she did so, she iced up her digits to create a more... interesting effect inside you.

at first, it was an actual practice with the avatar just so you could learn more about her techniques for even more advantages for future tournaments. but of course, you couldn't help yourself trying to be subtle with your looks and touches around her body. you couldn't keep your hands to yourself, and korra knew that. she didn't mind though. she thought it was pretty interesting to see someone as attractive as you wanted a feel of her muscles. at some point, she'd even let them flex in front of you a little, just to see your reaction.

and spirits, that little blush with that pretty face of yours... it felt surreal to even witness it despite your usually flirty demeanor the whole time you guys interacted. that pretty much ended up with you getting up close to her in the end and seducing the hell out of her.

now, you were completely getting messed up by her. your hair came off loose from its usual ponytail, already disheveled clothes from an intense makeout session. your cheek and chest were pressed up onto the wall, hands on either side to maintain yourself from falling over whilst she fucked you from behind with a hand on your hip that was slightly bent over, gripping tightly onto your skin.

"thought you said you could take me down? seems that was just all-talk."

korra teased up, keeping her pace whilst your hole let out squelching noises in return. you were panting, lips parted slightly with soft moans from the plunging. you would absolutely roll your eyes at her words, but it might roll a different way if you're in this type of scenario. your breath was shaky and sharp, feeling the need to cum on her fingers from how fast and deep she was. not to mention, her fingers were thick and muscular—and that only added to the pleasure you were feeling right now.

"you close?"

she whispered against your ear, feeling your walls clench around her fingers with a slight smirk on her face once she curled them up inside you. a moan escapes your lips, biting down harshly on your bottom one to try and quiet down. back arching from the curl, you moved your hips with her rhythm, slamming back to her. the avatar only chuckled at your silent plea to get you to release around her fingers. before you could even had the chance to, she pulled out abruptly, cutting you off from exploding entirely. you whipped your head around, looking at her with slight confusion.

"why...?"

"turn around. wanna see how this pretty girl looks when she cums on my fingers."

she commands, but was also the one who turned you around and plopped you down onto the floor, your back leaning against the wall behind you. your body squirmed once her fingers started playing with your clit once more—cold and nice, just how you liked it. your body heated up at that. korra notices this before plunging back inside once more, her mouth around one of those perky nipples, curling her fingers inside your cunt. she was leaning over you, slightly smirking to herself once she saw your face up close with those expressions.

"look at you getting fucked by the avatar like the slut you are. do you just go around and flirt with any opponent you come across?"

she whispers, peppering kisses along your torso to the point where she reaches your sensitive nub between your legs, still working her fingers out with one hand and the other hand underneath a leg of yours, lifting it over her shoulder. without a warning, she lifts your hips up to her face, using her tongue against your clit while her fingers did their job penetrating you to the brim. it was like heaven to have the avatar have you like this—under her mercy.

her mouth engulfed your little bud in between her lips, lightly sucking on it with her eyes all on you. she was watching your reactions, your expressions, and the way you move against her. it was intriguing, really. having you all fucked out in front of her with just her fingers and tongue. her arm wrapped around your waist to set you in place, continuing her ministrations once she realized you were getting closer to your release.

"about to cum, pretty girl?"

there was cockiness in that tone, which you only mewled at in response, nodding eagerly. you liked women like this. it got you even closer to the edge, your hand gripped itself to the floor below you as your chest heaved from how close you were. your body arched in the air, wrapping the leg over her shoulder around her neck to pull her closer to your entrance, shamelessly having the avatar dig her face into your throbbing cunt with the need to explode.

"please..." you begged at last, your legs twitching from rubbing into the avatar's face, cumming hard around her digits. her fingers still continued its pace, plunging in and out of you to milk you up and pulled out, rubbing her digits covered in your slick along your clit to soothe you out. korra places you down once you've finished, giving you a rest as she looked down at you in a watchful gaze.

"still gonna teach me how a real pro bends?"

"not now, avatar."

•

as you all could tell, i like getting straight to the point sometimes :> LOL this ask was fun

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