#“patience is a virtue!” “not right now it isn't!”

[mxanigel]

10 fandoms / 10 characters / 10 tags

Thanks for tagging me, @queenaeducan <3

1) Mass Effect -- Vetra Nyx 2) Dragon Age -- Cassandra Pentaghast 3) Tales of Vesperia -- Yuri Lowell 4) Trails series -- Lloyd Bannings 5) How to Train Your Dragon -- Toothless 6) Portal 2 -- Cave Johnson 7) The Legend of Korra -- Korra 8) The Mummy -- Rick O'Connell 9) 86 -- Vladilena "Lena" Milizé 10) Star Wars -- Mara Jade (SHE COUNTS OKAY)

No-pressure tagging @poetikat, @lazyadmiral, @milesmentis, @mxkelsifer, @fairfaxleasee, @saraptor, @sheplaysrpgs, @islanddryad, @spindleweedss, @deedeemactir

[arcxnumvitae]

‘Do not underestimate that I will do anything that I must for those under my protection.’...? 

Hadn’t he heard a similar sentiment from Sivel in much the same vein? The transgressions one would commit under the weight of kinghood...

[chazolina]

I am in Hell

(Waiting for my beta readers to get back to me)

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite (part two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny slid into the taxi and closed the door, not even a second later did the man merge into traffic. Sneaking a glance at the driver, who somehow looked even worse than Danny did when he hadn't slept in four days, Danny slowly peeled off the sticky note from the seat.

glancing down, he found Clockwork's familiar handwriting. (which he would like to add, shouldn't be as familiar as it is, but then again, he shouldn't be having tea time with him either.)

Do what you think is right, only then does your future look bright.

well, alright then. does that mean Danny should jump out the moving car? because he didn't think walking into some poor rich dude's house and forcing his company on the family was the right thing to do. He thought it was the most convenient at the moment, sure, but not the right one.

flipping the note over, Danny found more writing;

Do not jump out of the car, you've already come this far. Patience will be a virtue. This is worth the persue. Do not worry, there is no hurry.

"what the hell, Clockwork?" Danny quietly hissed, glaring off to the side and out the window. "You become friends with Ghostwriter or something? and what do you mean don't worry? I'm literally running from the government. if nothing else, that's probably the one thing I need to worry about."

Another sticky note poped up, this time stuck to the back of the driver's seat. Glancing up, Danny waited a second for the driver to be distracted before reaching out and snatching the note.

the only thing on it was a very shitty smily face.

what the fuck.

"this isn't funny, clocky!" Danny hissed again, glancing up to make sure the driver hadn't heard him. "mom and dad literally have my ecto signature, they only need a single hint of which direction to go before it becomes all too easy to find me again."

closing his eyes, Danny took a deep breath.

holding it for a second, then exhaling. Alright. Fine, if Clockwork isn't worried or against this, then there's no reason not to do this. (well besides the obvious one; it's rude to walk into someone's house uninvited and whatnot.)

"fine, but I'm only staying long enough to snag some food and then I'm gone, got it?" Danny grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the window. he didn't receive another note, so he leaned back and watched as the city passed. Slowly buildings spread out, and green lawns turned into green fields.

staring down at the smiley face, Danny shook his head, carefully he pulled out his phone and removed the case. shoving the sticky note inside, Danny put the case back on and put his phone in his pocket. it was dead, so he couldn't do anything else with it so might as well make it useful. who knows when Danny might need that little bit of ectoplasm.

A few minutes later, the taxi slowed to a stop next to a black gate and rolled down the window. "taxi 'ere, Mr. Wayne already paid me."

"I see," a strongly British voice echoed from the box, "come in." The gate beeped a second later and swung open, allowing the taxi to drive through. Danny glanced around the front 'yard' as they approached the looming building. Nicely trimmed green grass fields as far as the eyes could see, trees lining where Danny had to assume were the property lines.

somehow it was completely different from Vlad's front yard, yet still, Danny could only describe them as the same. Green, full of flowers and sculpted bushes and outlandishly garish paveways for their rich front doors. If Danny squinted he could swear there were butterflies happily fluttering around the sides of the building.

and Danny uses the word building here because that was not a house.

No, no. That building wasn't even a mansion like Sam's house. nor was it a castle, like Vlad's. It was an old building of amalgamated eras and themes. Danny was so annoyed his phone was dead right now, Sam would have lost her mind if she could see what he was. Are those eighteenth-century dormers right next to a twentieth-century skylight???

you know what? Mr. Wayne deserves to have all of his food eaten right in front of him. Who in their right mind would allow their home to look like that? And in the twenty-first century no less!

The taxi pulled to a stop; and Danny, lost in his Sam-induced horror, automatically pushed the car door open, stumbled his way out, closed the door, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs to stare up at the roof.

Taxi man sniffed and then drove off, his jaw cracking yawn echoing in the back of Danny's mind.

"Master Tim?" the British voice from earlier echoed out from the now-opened door. Danny's gaze dropped from the roof and down to the older man now walking toward him. the man hadn't looked up from his newspaper, still reading a paragraph as he stopped in front of Danny.

blinking, Danny glanced down at the paper. he might as well see what had the man's attention so thoroughly. Another article about Damian Wayne and the schoolyard incident.

Danny snorted, he remembered reading about that one. Someone had thrown away their copy and Danny had been bored. let's just say Danny was thoroughly entertained. he even had thoughts about how the kid had managed to sneak in a small dagger with how tight the school's security claimed to be.

"it had to be his belt, I just know it," Danny whispered, leaning a little more to try and see what the new article revealed.

"yes, yes. young master Damian snuck his dagger to school, no need for you to tell me how for the seventh time. Now, then." the butler, folded the paper and put it in his back pocket, and then, again without looking, gently grabbed Danny's arm and guided him toward the door.

"master bruce has been worried about your lack of sleep, you will go to your room and take a nap or you will not be allowed to share in your siblings' desert at diner tonight." the British man sternly continued, closing the front door behind them.

Danny blinked at him, then at the large foyer in front of them. he was so glad Vlad hadn't splurged on aesthetics like this family obviously had. Was that a crystal chandelier?

The British man, Danny was going to call him Gramps now, guided Danny to the stairs and then promptly let him go so he could rush off to find the source of a loud crash, but not without telling Danny (master Tim) to get some rest.

Glancing up at the grand stairs (covered in an obscene amount of glitter) and finding a large golden framed painting of the ocean with a for sale sign next to it, Danny made up his mind.

Mr. Wayne was a multi-billionaire, who allowed his ancient family home to be butchered. If he wasn't going to respect his home when Danny didn't even have one anymore?

Then Danny was going to honor Sam; The person who had dragged him into this hellish life of interior and exterior design (as well as the half'a life coincidently). And how was he going to do this, you ask? well what else, then do the very thing she's dedicated her time to?

Eating the rich.

Or in this case; their food.

and well, what was a ghost supposed to do when welcomed into an ancient home with ungrateful residences? Not haunt them?

[mcflymemes]

THE MUMMY (1999) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

looks to me like you're on the wrong side of the river!

by the way... why did you kiss me?

it seemed like a good idea at the time.

that's called stealing, you know.

is it dangerous?

stop it! you'll kill them!

get me a glass of bourbon.

this just keeps getting better and better.

this door doesn't open.

who opened that chest?

i only want four!

the map! i forgot the map!

i think he's filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel. i don't like him one bit.

i guess we go home empty-handed... again.

look what i got.

i think you found something.

what exactly is this man in prison for?

you just got promoted.

you're with me on this one, right?

keep him busy.

we are in serious trouble.

this creature is the bringer of death.

you must not read from the book!

where are they taking him?

there's only one person i know that can possibly give us any answers.

can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn't all some kind of flimflam?

i'm a very lonely man.

look at my library!

you're gonna get yours, [name]!

never did like camels.

what do you suppose killed him?

time to go.

take my hand, and i will spare your friends.

will you look at that?

do they know something we don't?

i need a new job.

have you no respect for the dead?

i've dreamt about this since i was a little girl.

you dream about dead guys?

patience is a virtue.

any last requests?

loosen the knot and let me go.

i don't think we need to know this.

ooh... that's gotta hurt.

you... i just don't get.

you probably won't live through it.

everybody else we've bumped into has died. why not you?

you're wondering... what is a place like me doing in a girl like this?

yeah, i was there.

can you swim?

of course we don't let him go!

you'll be dead when they do this.

i think i'll kill you.

think of my children.

i only gamble with my life, never my money.

i may not be an explorer or an adventurer, or a treasure-seeker or a gunfighter, but i am proud of what i am.

give me frogs! flies! locusts! anything but you!

compared to you, the other plagues were a joy.

i am so very sorry. it was an accident.

you are a catastrophe.

oh my god, i hate it when these things do that.

is he supposed to look like that?

of course i can swim, if the occasion calls for it.

now, because of you, we have failed.

you think this justifies the killing of innocent people?

what did you say?

i don't want to tell you.

let me get this straight.

you don't have any children.

you lied to me.

i lie to everybody.

what makes you so special?

sorry. didn't mean to scare you.

the only thing that scares me are your manners.

have you got any bright ideas?

i'm thinking. i'm thinking!

you'd better think of something fast.

what are we going to do?

wait here! i'll go get help!

i thought you said you didn't believe in all this fairy tales and hokum stuff.

forget it! we're out the door, we're down the hall, and we're gone!

i told you not to play around with that thing.

you heard the man. no mortal weeapons can kill this guy.

listen! we've got to do something!

is that my problem?

i appreciate you saving my life and all, but when i signed on, i agreed to take you out there and bring you back. end of job, end of story, contract terminated.

that's all i am to you? a contract?

you can either tag along with me or stay here and try to save the world.

do something!

you know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance.

what's the challenge then?

rescue the damsel in distress, kill the bad guy, and save the world.

death is only the beginning.

why are you going back?

i'm going downstairs to get me a drink. you want something?

[godsfavdarling]

How could you?

my masterlist, part 2

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (established relationship) words: 2,3k summary: You go to Spencer's apartment, only to witness a shocking betrayal that shatters your world. warnings: angst, hurt, spoilers for season 15! a/n: this was one of the ideas for the later chapters of my full story 'Keep Holding On' (completed and available here), but there wasn't really a place for it. so, I decided to just make it into a one-shot with a gender-neutral reader!

You and Spencer have been together for a few years now, your relationship a patchwork of late-night conversations, lazy weekends spent on a couch with books, and long nights in each other's arms.

Although his job isn't easy and you don't get him to yourself as much as you'd like to, you wouldn't change a thing. He and the love you share mean everything to you.

In the quiet moments when you're alone, you find yourself marveling at how unexpected and yet perfectly fitting your love story is. You never thought this could happen to you. 

You never let yourself believe that there would be a man like Spencer loving you and accepting every fiber of your being.

Spencer's presence in your life is like a gentle breeze on a hot summer's day, soothing and comforting. His unwavering support and understanding make even the toughest days bearable. And when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, you feel a sense of belonging that you've never known before.

You cherish the simple moments shared over cups of coffee in the morning or stolen kisses in the middle of the day. In Spencer's eyes, you see a reflection of your own hopes and dreams, and in his laughter, you find the melody of your heart's desires.

As you drift off to sleep each night, nestled in Spencer's embrace, you offer a silent prayer of gratitude for the love that fills your days and the warmth that fills your heart. 

In him, you've found not just a partner, but a kindred spirit, a soulmate who completes you in ways you never knew were possible. And for that, you will always be thankful.

There's an unspoken language that exists only between you and Spencer. It's a language of love, trust, and understanding that transcends words.

You marvel at how effortlessly Spencer seems to know what you need, even before you do. His intuition is uncanny, his gestures of affection tender and sincere. 

Whether it's a simple touch on the small of your back as he passes by or a reassuring squeeze of your hand when you're feeling uncertain, Spencer has an innate ability to make everything feel right.

You trust him with your deepest fears, your wildest dreams, and every fragile piece of your heart.

In his arms, you find sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world, a safe harbor where you can be your truest self without fear of judgment or rejection.

And as you navigate the challenges of life together, you're constantly reminded of just how perfect Spencer is in your eyes. His kindness knows no bounds, his patience infinite. 

But it's not just his virtues that make him perfect; it's the way he loves you, wholly and unconditionally. In Spencer, you've found a partner who sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all, and loves you all the more fiercely because of them.

Now as you climb the stairs to Spencer's apartment, your heart flutters. Spencer has just started his 30 days of obligatory sabbatical, and you're looking forward to spending more time together now that his only obligation is his teaching job. You've picked up takeout on the way, eager to share a quiet evening together.

But as you open the door, your excitement turns to shock and disbelief.

There, before you, is Spencer, locked in a passionate embrace with JJ. Her hands are cupping his cheeks, their lips pressed together in a kiss that sends a jolt of pain through your chest.

Time seems to stand still as the bags of food slip from your fingers, crashing to the floor with a dull thud. You can't tear your eyes away from the scene before you, the weight of betrayal crushing down on you like a ton of bricks.

A thousand thoughts race through your mind, each one more painful than the last.

How could Spencer do this to you? How long has this been going on? And most importantly, how could you have been so blind to the truth?

Your heart feels like it's been ripped from your chest, shattered into a million pieces by the revelation before you. The love and trust you once shared with Spencer now lay in ruins at your feet, leaving you feeling empty and alone in a world that suddenly seems cold and indifferent.

As Spencer and JJ finally break apart, their eyes widening in shock at your sudden appearance, you feel a surge of anger rising within you. But beneath the anger lies a deep well of hurt and sadness, a pain that cuts to the very core of your being.

Without a word, you turn on your heel and flee from the apartment, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggle to make sense of the betrayal that has shattered your world.

Everything spins around you in a blur of tears and confusion, you turn and run down the stairs, desperate to escape the pain and betrayal that threaten to consume you.

Each step feels like a marathon, your legs heavy with the weight of sorrow and disbelief.

But just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, your vision swimming with tears, you stumble, your foot catching on the edge of a step. You plummet forward, the ground rushing up to meet you with terrifying speed.

In that split second before impact, a pair of strong arms wraps around you, pulling you back from the brink of disaster. You gasp in shock and relief as Spencer catches you, his grip firm and steady.

For a moment, you cling to him like a lifeline, your body trembling with the force of your emotions.

You can't breathe, can't think, can't comprehend the enormity of what has just happened.

As you collapse onto the stairs, your sobs echoing in the empty stairwell, Spencer kneels beside you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration.

He reaches out to touch you, but you flinch away, unable to bear the thought of his hands on your skin.

"Please," he pleads, his voice cracking with emotion. "Let me explain. It wasn't what you think. I didn't...I didn't do anything."

But his words fall on deaf ears as you struggle to make sense of the chaos swirling inside your head.

How could Spencer betray you like this? How could he let someone else touch him in that way?

As the truth begins to dawn on you, a wave of anger washes over you, hot and relentless. You push yourself away from Spencer, your chest heaving with the effort to draw breath.

"Don't," you choke out, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't touch me."

But Spencer refuses to give up, his eyes burning with determination as he reaches for you once more. "Please," he begs, his voice raw with emotion. "Let me explain. It wasn't me. It was her."

You place a trembling hand on your chest, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggle to catch your breath.

"How could you?" you utter, your voice barely above a whisper, the words heavy with accusation and pain.

Spencer's eyes are full of anguish as tears well up in his eyes. He reaches out to you, his hand hovering in the air between you, a silent plea for forgiveness that you're not sure you're ready to grant.

But before you can respond, JJ appears at the top of the stairs, her mouth open as if she's about to say something. But then, with a quick shake of her head, she closes her mouth and walks past the two of you without a word.

You stare after her in disbelief, your mind reeling with confusion and hurt.

You struggle to make sense of the situation. You knew of the hostage situation with JJ and how she had professed her love for Spencer. But you also remember how Spencer immediately came to you, confessing everything and reassuring you of his love for you.

He spent the whole night telling you every detail of what happened, assuring you that his heart belonged to you and you alone. He made it clear that you were the one he loved, not JJ.

So what happened? How could he be kissing her now, after everything he said and everything you've been through together?

With a shaky breath, you push yourself up from the stairs, your muscles tense with the effort to contain the storm raging within you. You want to flee, to distance yourself from him and the shattered remnants of your trust.

But before you can take a single step, Spencer's voice cuts through the tumultuous haze of your thoughts, pleading with you to stay. His words are a desperate plea for understanding, for a chance to explain the inexplicable.

"Please," he implores, his voice cracking with emotion. "Don't leave. I need to explain. I swear, it wasn't what it looked like. You have to believe me."

You hesitate, torn between the desire to escape and the need for answers. Despite the overwhelming pain coursing through your veins, there's a part of you that still craves the truth, no matter how agonizing it may be.

You groan loudly, the weight of the situation bearing down on you like a leaden blanket. Your mind races with a million questions, each one more painful than the last.

But for now, you're too overwhelmed to process anything.

With another loud groan, you turn and begin to make your way back upstairs, your steps heavy with exhaustion and despair.

You can feel Spencer's eyes boring into your back, his silent plea for you to stay echoing in the empty stairwell.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you don't look back, you enter the apartment and your only thought is to find a moment of solace in the solitude of the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you shut the door behind you, the click of the lock a final barrier between you and the chaos that threatens to consume you.

And as you sit there, trembling and broken, you realize that there's something about Spencer, something in the depths of his eyes that compelled you to stay, to hear him out.

It's a trust that runs deeper than words.

As you emerge from the bathroom after a few minutes, the weight of the silence between you and Spencer hangs heavy in the air.

You find him on the couch, his leg shaking uncontrollably, his fingers fidgeting nervously. His face is etched with worry and pain, mirroring the tumult of emotions raging inside you both.

He gave you space, just as he always did. It's one of the things you've always admired about him, his ability to recognize when you needed time to process and heal.

But now, as you sit in the armchair nearby, staring at him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, you can't help but feel the need for answers, for some semblance of understanding in the chaos that surrounds you.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Spencer speaks. His voice is hoarse with emotion, the words tumbling out in a rush as if he's been holding them back for far too long.

"She just showed up," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "Out of nowhere, she started talking about how she loves me and how she was stupid for ignoring it for so long. She said she couldn't pretend anymore..."

You listen in stunned silence, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. So it wasn't Spencer who initiated the kiss, it was JJ.

But why?

As Spencer continues to speak, his words are a desperate attempt to make sense of the madness that has engulfed your lives, you find yourself drawn to him, to the vulnerability etched into every line of his face.

Despite the pain and betrayal that still lingers between you, there's a part of you that can't help but empathize with his plight.

As Spencer falls silent, his eyes searching yours for some sign of forgiveness or understanding, you find yourself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

Hurt, betrayal, and confusion war with a lingering sense of empathy and love for the man sitting before you.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and collect your thoughts. "Spencer," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know what to say."

His eyes widen in anticipation, his expression a mixture of hope and fear. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I need time," you finally say, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need time to process everything, to figure out where we go from here."

Spencer nods solemnly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting for you."

With a heavy sigh, you push yourself up from the armchair, your limbs feeling like lead. "I'm going to go," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "I just... I need some space."

Spencer nods, his gaze following you as you make your way to the door. "I'll be here," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

You pause in the doorway, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. "I love you too," you murmur, your voice choked with emotion.

And with that, you step out into the cool night air, the weight of the world heavy on your shoulders.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder will it ever be the same between the two of you?

[zodiyack]

Little Loner

Pairing(s): Jace Wayland x fem!reader

Warnings: clary being jealous but then cupid??, I wrote this while sleep deprived, fluff at the end, Clary x Simon if you squint.

Words: 1,743

Author's Note: I finally finished the requests. Now have some drafts while I work on sequels and stuff <3

Masterlist | The Mortal Instruments Masterlist

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read it,  @simonsbluee,  @thewarriorprincessxo,  @sebastianstanslefteyebrow,  @livlaughquinn,  @bubsonnobx,  @bunnyweasley23

Jace leads Clary to Hodge, but hesitates when he sees an open door. He finds himself pausing to admire the scene, leaning on the door frame with a crooked smile. Clary moves to get a better view and is confused.

A girl sits in a windowsill, her pencil hitting the paper lightly as she sketches out the scenery outside the window. The light appears to angle just right, giving her an almost angelic presence. Black runes cover her skin, some disappearing to hide under her clothes.

Clary leans over to Alec and whispers. "Who is that?"

Alec simply nods a little. "Y/N. Jace has a thing for her, but he's never acted on it." Clary feels her heart break a little. "Shame, really. She likes him too, but they're both too stubborn to be the one to confess."

"Oh..."

"My advice," Alec looks between her and the room, "stay away from Jace."

He moves on before she can ask much else, walking along the halls and calling to Jace quietly. Jace is brought back to reality as he gives one last look into the room before venturing on.

"So, Y/N..." Clary tries.

She doesn't miss when Jace blushes slightly, "another Shadowhunter. She's been here a long time, however she really only talks to me."

"Why's that?"

He chuckles a little but shakes his head. "That's none of my business to tell. She's a great person when you get to know her though." That's all the information he gives before they reach their destination. He opens the door and gestures inside with a nod.

His expression stays neutral, stoic as he explains, "You may find Hodge a little eccentric, but he's one of the greatest Shadowhunters that's ever lived." He looks down at the cloth in her hand and his brows furrow. "Here, give me that."

She walks inside of the giant room, her body and eyes exploring. The two boys walk in after her. They watch her carefully. Despite her distance, Clary can still hear Jace and Alec by the door.

"Don't lead this one on while you pursue your little loner. You'll get her hopes up, and if she decides to stay...the rune to fix a broken heart is the most painful one." She could practically feel Jace roll his eyes.

"I'm not leading her on."

"Oh? Is that so? Because I don't normally go around flirting and being handsy with random people, Jace." Alec warned. "It's obvious, the way Clary looks at you. I'd tone down your 'lack of leading her on' before she gets the wrong idea."

The doors shut suddenly, causing Clary to flinch, and Alec storms off down the hall, leaving Jace to think over his words. The more he thought about it, the more he tried to deny it.

Jace opens the door, "The Silent Brothers are ready for her."

When Clary and Jace set off for their next location, she noticed a new companion had replaced Alec. It was the girl from before. The girl that Jace liked.

"I didn't expect you to be joining us..." She tries to make conversation, but Y/N barely acknowledges her.

"I admire your attempt, but she won't talk. Not unless she's comfortable with you." Jace smiles at the girl in question, who smiles to herself but stays quiet.

"How long would that take?"

"Patience is a virtue, Clary." Jokes Jace. "I suppose I was the first person who ever really tried, so there's not much to go off of. She's coming with us because I asked her too."

The redheaded girl can't help but glance between the two every now and then. She isn't sure whether she feels jealous or wants them to be together, but she can say one thing for sure; The tension was nauseatingly strong.

"Why didn't Hodge come with us?"

"He hasn't left the institute in years." Jace shrugs as he continues walking. "Some say it's a spell."

"He's agoraphobic." Y/N giggles at Clary's bluntness, leading to the ginger giving her a small smile. One she returned. They stop and turn, Jace crossing his arms while he waits.

"Is that him?" Clary asks.

Jace follows her gaze and shakes his head. "No, that's Harold, the groundskeeper." He tilts his head, leaning in a bit, "that's him."

She looks up a little and feels a small shiver of unease crawl up her spine. A comforting hand is felt on her shoulder, and she's met with Y/N's smile when she turns her head. The action leaves her wondering how obvious her discomfort was, but she still is thankful.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Clary looks to the two as though asking for help, but nods regardless. "We will help you to remember."

The trio follow the tall robed man, Clary a little more hesitant. Y/N turns, kind smile still standing, and lifts a finger to the middle of her lips. Clary nods and follows behind.

Along the way she trips, "Ow!"

Jace turns his head instantly, shushing her. "You'll wake the dead."

Clary rolls her eyes. She catches Y/N giving her an apologetic shrug, the girl nodding with her head to continue.

"I can't believe this place is just outside of the city..."

She follows the duo to the window like ledge they looked through. Jace's voice catches her off guard, "Welcome to the City of Bones." His breath is right next to her ear, sending her hairs to stand on their ends.

"This is where the Silent Brothers draw their power, from the bones and ashes of Shadowhunters."

"All of them are buried here?"

"Yes." Jace looks to the wall, "One day," he taps a skull, making Y/N giggle, the sound eliciting a smile to slide upon his pink lips, "that's gonna be me."

Clary stops to look at the skeleton. Sensing her unease, Y/N urges her forward with a light touch. Clary stops a few steps forward, inspecting the room from entryway.

"This is as far as we go." She looks at Jace, and he assures her, "You'll be fine."

"So you've done this before?"

Y/N and Jace exchange a glance. She dawns an apologetic look as shakes her head and Jace replies, "No."

Clary decides to continue to try and talk to Y/N, "Have you ever met Magnus Bane?"

The girl only shakes her head.

"You know... I'm quite jealous of you." Clary admits with a laugh. Y/N tilts her head in confusion, prompting Clary to continue. "I thought Jace was into me, and if I'm being honest, I'm really into him but... I'd be stupid to stand in your guys' way."

Her brows furrow, even more confused than before. Clary's hopes range from high to doubtful, there's a chance Alec was wrong, that she didn't have feelings for him, but she saw the way the two looked at each other. She might've been naïve and clouded in her conflicting feelings, but she wasn't blind.

"Jace likes you too. And honestly...you should go for it." She looks away, ashamed of her own assistance in helping the guy she liked be with someone else. However, she doesn't have time to mope, when a voice she hasn't heard before causes her to snap her eyes back to Y/N's face.

"Is it that obvious?" A shy expression, laced with a little embarrassment, greets her.

"You-"

"I talk, yes." She chuckles. "Jace wasn't lying. I mostly talk to him, but after I realized my feelings for him, I started to confide in Alec. My only problem was that I didn't realize Alec also had feelings for Jace... But, Alec saw how much I love Jace, and told me that he had found interest in someone else. Whether that's true or not, I don't know, but, my feelings for Jace have always been around since then. I'm just...not too sure what to do about it."

Clary nods understandingly, and places her hand atop Y/N's. "Talk to him."

Y/N thinks about it for moment, and then nods. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can we talk?" Jace turns, nodding when he realizes it's Y/N. The blond looks around the infirmary, making sure Simon and Clary are accounted for one more time before he returns to facing her. He follows her to the study, sitting beside her on the piano seat.

"What's wrong?"

Her fingers press into the keys, a slow recollection of a piece by Bach. "It's nothing... I spoke to Clary-'

"You talked to Clary?" Y/N giggles at his dumbfounded expression. "M'sorry, that just caught me a little off-guard, you don't normally talk to anyone else."

"That's fair. Basically, she gave me some advice to a problem I have, not that I asked her for it- she actually noticed it- anyways, after Simon and the vampires and everything- I guess- my point is, Jace..."

"Yes?" His eyes were laced with concern, no longer amused by her sudden socializing.

"I like you. Like, really really like like you." She bit her lip. "Like...I'm in love with you."

Y/N stared at Jace, waiting for his answer. She grew nervous as time started to feel slower. The seconds felt like they were snail's paced, so close yet so far away. Sweat dripped down her forehead and her heartbeat rang in her ears. It was all so overwhelming until-

"I'm in love with you too."

"You what?"

Jace smiled shyly. "I'm in love with you too. I've been for a long time now." His eyes trace over her lips, the distance between them closing gradually. He hovers above her lips when his eyes meet hers again.

It's all in slow motion and superspeed at the same time. She lets go of control and lets her instincts take the reigns. Her lips crash into his and he lets out a surprised groan. Their eyes both close as they kiss one another, their lips partaking in a dance they somehow know. By the time they pull apart, they're out of breath and their eyes are blown.

"How long?"

She blinks. "Pardon?"

"How long have you been waiting to do that?"

"If I'm being honest, a month or so after we met. What about you?" Y/N giggles.

"Since we first met."

Clary leans against the door, heart half broken and half full, yet content with herself. Maybe she should look into what Simon's benefits are.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Patience is a Virtue (Matt Murdock x fem!virgin!Reader) (Virtuous Person Part 2)

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I know I've basically disappeared from writing, but I lost inspiration and motivation to write for a while, and then with just life in general, finding time to sit, write, and edit became near impossible. This definitely isn't my best, but writing is writing, right? I hope you enjoy it! :)

Summary: After Matt found out you were a virgin, he told you he would wait for and with you. Almost two years later, he's still holding steadfast to that promise and about to delight you on your wedding night.

Warnings: Kissing and being cute idiots in love, flirting, pet names foreplay, smut (fingering - f!receiving, handjob, oral - f!receiving, praise kink, p in v sex) Matt is a sexy menace, checking in on Reader to make sure they're okay, Reader is a virgin but knows some things

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 4,984

Matt’s hand rests on your waist, his arm holding you close to his side as the two of you make you way to the front door of the loft. He pulls his keys out of his pocket, finding the right one and sliding it in. His grip tightens on your waist as you try to take a step forward. Before you can ask, he swoops you up into his arms, kissing your temple as he walks in. 

“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he hums. 

You giggle, resting your head against his. “It’s good to be home, Mr. Murdock.”

Matt doesn’t put you down until you’re in his—now your—bedroom, his lips on you as your feet touch the floor. 

“How can I help, sweetheart?” he whispers against your lips dreamily. 

“Well,” you sigh, mindlessly plying with the hair at the nape of his neck, “if you can help me undo the buttons on the back, I think I can take it from there. You have your own layers of tuxedo to worry about.”

Matt smiles as you turn around, and you feel his lips almost immediately press soft kisses onto the back of your neck as his fingers work to unloop the buttons down your spine. You feel your skin burn hot, goosebumps dancing all on top of your flesh as he makes his way down your back. When you feel his fingers try to gently push the dress off your body, you take a step away, biting your lip as you smile and turn back to face him. 

“Patience is a virtue, my dear husband,” you hum as you slowly back your way toward the bathroom. “Five more minutes. I promise. Unless you need more time to get out of that tux?”

“I can be ready in two,” he grins, undoing his bow tie.

“You might, but I still need the five minutes.”

Matt laughs, leaning forward to give you a sweet kiss, happiness written in every pore on his face.

“Five minutes,” he repeats.

You smile and give him one more kiss before you walk into the bathroom and close the door. You sigh in relief as you get out of my dress—for as much as you love it, you are so happy to get the weight of the layers of fabric off of your body. You hang it up on the shower rod before you quickly move to the sink to wipe off your make up and take down your hair, combing it out to loosen the hold of the hairspray before refreshing your deodorant. You move to where your robe hangs on the back of the door, uncovering the special lingerie you hid a couple of days ago. Knowing Matt and his senses, he probably found it already, but that doesn’t take away your nerves and excitement for the night. He loves you, and you love him—Matt waited with and for you, and tonight, you’d finally be together in the way you’d been thinking about for so long. With a deep breath, you take the lingerie down and work to get it on.

You twist and turn in the mirror once it’s all on and in place. You look good—you feel good. Sexy, even, which is not something you can say you feel on the regular. Well, that is before you started seeing Matt. He always knows just what to say, just where to hold onto you, he just knows you, plain and simple. His love and support are more than you could ever ask for, and you’d hope he’d say the same about you. He married you for a reason, right?

Taking a deep breath, you fix your stockings and adjust the way your boobs sit in your bra before you reach for the doorknob and slowly walk back to the bedroom, the click of your heels echoing in the loft. 

You can’t help the smile on your face when you lean on the doorway of the bedroom. Matt’s laid out on the bed like he’s posing for a painting or a sculpture, one arm behind his head with a knee propped up as his face smiles softly, dreamily toward you. Let’s face it, he looks like a work of art.

“You were longer than five minutes,” he hums. 

“Oh, well, I can go back in the bathroom and take longer if you want?” you tease, your laughs bouncing almost immediately off the old brick of the bedroom. Matt gets up off the mattress, padding his way over to you. He takes your hands in his, bringing your left one up to his lips to kiss your rings. 

“Hi, angel,” he whispers.

“Hi, Matty,” you breathe.

“Want to get to bed?”

“Mm, sounds nice.” You take his hands and place them on your waist, and you watch as Matt licks his lip and suck it between his teeth. “You know, I bought a lot of different options in different colors. Couldn’t really decide on what to do. Black looked good, and I know you have a thing for red, but, white felt appropriate for tonight.”

Matt’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, his fingertips playing with the soft lace and mesh. “Something tells me that you’ll get to wear all of your options this week.”

Matt takes a small step back toward the bed, and you follow him, your stocking garter brushing against his leg, and you swear you hear him purr in delight. 

“Tell me what you’re wearing angel,” he demands softly. 

“Well, the bra is a little corset-y. It pushes my boobs up,” you start with a little smile, moving his hands along the garment, letting him feel what you describe. “The cups are satin overlayed with lace with little embroidered flowers. Some are white and some are a light blue. The rest is a mix of lace and mesh. The thong—.”

“You’re wearing a thong?” he smirks. 

“Mmhmm.” You guide his hands down your torso and to the fabric on your hips. “Not as bad as I thought it’d be. It’s the same mesh, lace, and embroidery as the bra. Then there’s a garter belt that has clips that are clipped to my stockings. And I believe you felt the garter against your leg. And the heels will be coming off . . .” You kick them off behind you while you stay in his hold. “There we go.”

“Damn, I’m a lucky man,” he smiles as you get to the edge of the bed. 

“I’m a lucky woman. Now,” you whisper in his ear. “Do you want to tell me what you’re wearing?”

Matt laughs, holding you close and kissing your shoulder. “I think the boxers are white. Could be black. You’re the one with working eyes, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I know, but I told what I’m wearing. Sexy and fair.”

“Ah, well . . . how about we add fun to that running list?”

You smile and nod, leaning into Matt’s touch on your neck before your lips meet. You both fall back onto the bed, bouncing a little on the mattress from the momentum. The kisses start sweet enough before they grow into something more, Matt’s hands squeezing at your waist. Your heart rate increases as things get steamier, and you moan in delight when Matt turns you around on the bed, kissing you down into the mattress. He trails his kisses down on your neck, and you toss your head back on the pillow, letting out a breathy moan. You feel Matt’s lips pull into a soft smile, his lips moving back to your. 

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” he whispers as he kisses you. “It’s been a long day. We can wait.”

“I’ve already waited this long,” you breathe, craning your neck to look at him, your fingers running through his soft hair. “I don’t want to wait any longer to be with you.”

Matt beams, the crinkles you love so much appearing at the corners of his eyes, the hazel orbs twinkling like stars before he leans in and crashes his lips to yours. 

“Just lie back and enjoy yourself for me, angel,” he whispers, his lips barely parted from yours.

“You sure, Matty?” you ask. You appreciate him taking the lead, but you don’t want him to feel like he has to do all of the work.

“I’m sure. Tonight, right now, is about me making my wife feel good.”

You smile and giggle lightly, your cheeks burning hot at him calling you his wife. Matt matches your bubbly, giddy outburst, smiling as he kisses you again. His hands run up and down your body gently, his movements loving, his fingers sending fire throughout your skin. His lips move from yours, exploring and nibbling at your neck. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, a soft moan falling from your tingling lips as his hands approach your ribcage. You moan softly as you get a new wave of goosebumps all over, his fingertips repeatedly teasing you as he moves to unclasp your bra. Your stomach flutters as he kisses you, unlatching the bra hook by hook, painstakingly slow until you feel the entire thing loosen on your chest. Matt presses gentle kisses on every inch of skin that his lips can find. When his lips reach your shoulder, his fingers ghost up your arm to pull at the loosened bra strap. As it starts to slide down your skin, you suck in a gasp, your hands gripping on to Matt. 

“It’s okay, angel,” he whispers, moving his face back up toward you. “It’s just me. I’m going to take good care of you.”

“I know,” you breathe, your heart thundering in anticipation in your chest. “I know. It just . . .”

Matt presses his lips to yours, long and slow. “I know,” he echos reassuringly. “Do you want to be the one to pull the straps down?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head against the satin pillowcase. “I want you to do it.”

Matt nods before gently pushing down your straps some more until they’re halfway down your arm and your breasts are exposed to him. He slides off the lacy fabric and tosses it somewhere to the side, his lips moving to your collarbone. You moan in delight when you feel how his large hand cups the side of your bare breasts, his simple touch sending fire throughout your body. Matt leans down, kissing your clavicle slowly, softly, and repeatedly, worshiping the exposed flesh surrounding your heart. 

“I love you,” he whispers. 

“I love you,” you breathe in response, working to maintain focus as your body becomes enveloped in him and his touch. You feel yourself clench around nothing as Matt’s mouth moves over your breast, his lips wrapping around your nipple. You gasp and tug at his hair, desperately wanting him closer. His face squishes against the supple flesh as he tries to go deeper, his stubble tickling you. Matt chuckles, his lips turning up into a smile as he repeats the same movement on your other breast. His kisses and sucks work to make each nipple pert and perky before wrapping his warm, calloused hands around them, giving them a squeeze as he dives in for another kiss. 

Of all the things you could be focusing on right now, you’re enamored by the way his nose squishes against yours, passionate and intense. You’ve been in similar positions before, bodies flush against each other and lips locked in a tender and needy embrace, but this one feels exponentially better. You hold his face in your hands, keeping him close. He pulls back, needing air for his lungs that isn’t from your own. 

“Are you doing okay?” Matt swallows, brushing some hair off from your forehead.

“I’m alright,” you breathe. “You have a great mouth.”

He smiles and laughs, leaning back in for another quick kiss. 

“Oh, angel,” he coos. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

You cheeks burn hot as your legs involuntarily squeeze against his. He chuckles softly some more, his hands roaming down your sides until they get to the waistband of your garter belt.

“I think you’re still a bit overdressed, though, Mrs. Murdock,” he coos.

“I can say the same for you, Mr. Murdock,” you hum, your hands sliding down his back and over the curve of his perfectly round ass, giving it a squeeze. “It’s been left to my imagination for too long.”

“It has?” He rolls his hips into yours lightly, letting you feel through the thin layer of cotton just how hard his is.

“It has. I need visuals, my sweet husband.”

“Okay. But let me make things a little more even, first.”

You watch as he sits up on his knees, taking one of your legs in his hands. His fingers move toward the snaps on the garter belt before he gently starts to peel off your stockings. His lips are on your skin as the nylon rolls down, worshiping every ounce of flesh, sending yet another round of goosebumps and fire all along your skin. Once he is done with one leg, he moves to the other, using his teeth to pull off the garter before taking off the garter belt and repeating the same process with your stocking. 

“There,” he says as he kisses your lips, gently taking hold of your hands and pulling you up to sit, weaving your fingers together. “We’re even.”

“Seems we are,” you smile. “You still have too much clothing on you, though.”

He chuckles. “Well, whose fault is that?” 

“Mmm, I’m putting this one on you,” you smile as your hands move down the contours of his body. Your hand glides over his bulge, giving him a squeeze, delighted at the flush you make appear on his skin as he sucks in a breath. “Can you take these off for me, Matt?”

“I’m not quite finished with you, you know,” he breathes, lust hooding his eyes. 

“I figured. But I want you to feel good, too.”

“Trust me.” He moves his hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your panties and into your slick heat. Your mouth falls open, a stuttered moan filling the space between your bodies as he plays with you, stopping you in your tracks as you rub him. “You’re making me feel all kinds of good, sweetheart.”

After a few beats, you’re able to get your bearings. You lean forward, attaching your lips to his neck as you work to mark him up as yours as you palm him. Matt keeps up his work with his fingers, breathlessly praising you for both of your actions. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants. “Shit, your hand feels so good. So good at making me so hard for you. Such a good girl for me.”

His other hand slips around your waist and down your back, getting a handful of your ass and squeezing the flesh. “Let me take your panties off, sweetheart. Let me put my face between those legs.”

“Will you take your boxers off for me?” you murmur into his clavicle as you move your lips up to his neck, gently sucking on a spot that you know drives him crazy.

“I’ll give you all of my underwear if you let me taste that pussy of yours.”

You giggle, moving to kiss him deeply as he leans you back down on the mattress, his fingers moving out from your underwear and to your hips. He pulls you toward him, and you get the hint to lift your hips to help him slide the fabric off. True to his word, Matt slides off his own boxers and you see him completely bare. It feels like your eyes bug out of your head as you take him in, lying back on your elbows. He’s large, for sure, and he looks thick. Not that you have anything to compare him to from personal experience, but, he’s truly a sight to behold.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, partially amused, the other part very sincere. 

“Oh, I’m good,” you muse. “Wow.”

Matt laughs, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “Thank you,” he smiles, guiding you down on the mattress. “You’re pretty ‘wow’ yourself there, angel.”

He continues to place scattered kisses down your body, and you moan softly as he does. When he kisses at your belly button and inches lower, you swallow hard, his lips making you warm and tingly. Matt’s kisses are slow and deliberate, lingering on different parts of your skin where you don’t want him to focus on. Finally, Matt moves his mouth to hover over your exposed core, and he lets out a long, warm breath over your dripping folds. You whine at the teasing sensation, your hips bucking toward him, and you see Matt grin devilishly before you feel his hands on the inside of your thighs and his lips on you.

You cry out, your back arching as your thighs try to close around his head. Matt’s fingers squeeze into your flesh, keeping them open as he hums in delight. He was right when he told you about his mouth earlier. His tongue laps up everything that drips out of you, his plush lips wrapping around your clit. You start to squirm a little in delight, but Matt slides his hands over your skin to your hips to hold you in place before he pulls his head up.

“You taste so fucking delicious, (Y/N),” he breathes, his mouth glistening as he tries to lock his eyes on yours. “I’m going to keep going, and I’m also going to slide my fingers in. Tell me if you need me to stop, and let me hear every little moan and breath that you make.”

“Matthew . . . Fuck, Matty,” you say softly, running your fingers through his fluffy hair. He hums in delight, keening into your touch. “You’re being so good to me.”

“Well, happy wife and all,” he smiles, kissing at the fold of your hip. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you let me eat you out so you’re nice and ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you swallow, your heart pounding in eagerness and excitement.

Matt smiles, kissing your thigh once more before gently spreading your lips with his fingers, trying to keep his gaze upward as he licks you. Your jaw drops at the sight and the sensation, throwing your head back on the pillow and moaning in delight, one hand squeezing your breast as the other stays in Matt’s hair. Matt hums, and the vibrations only help with the sensations, rippling like shockwaves through you. The ministrations of his mouth only grow more deliberate, throwing you for loop after loop. You practically scream in delight when you feel Matt carefully prod one, and then two fingers in you, curling them deliciously against a spot inside of you. 

“You like that, angel?” he teases against your puffy lips, and the soft kisses he presses to your surrounding skin make you feel absolutely insane with pleasure. 

“Oh my God,” you breathe out fast as he continues to curl his fingers. “Oh my God.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you confirm. 

“What do you like better? My mouth or my fingers?”

“Don’t know,” you moan, feeling the pleasure build through your body. 

“You don’t know, angel? But you’re so smart. You’re my smart girl. My smart, beautiful wife.”

Between the praise and the sensations, you can’t form a coherent sentence. It’s like everything you could possibly say, even the most basic of words, have fallen entirely from your brain and everything is just focused on Matt’s body between your legs and his velvety voice.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he coos softly. “Use your words for me, honey. Which do you like better? My mouth or my fingers?”

“M-Mouth?” you stutter, even as his thumb presses on your swollen clit and you moan in delight. 

“My mouth?” 

“Y-Yes.”

“Didn’t sound too convincing. Let me see . . .”

Matt’s mouth is back on you as his fingers continue to pump and curl between your legs. You swear you could levitate off the mattress. You desperately wrap around Matt, your legs squeezing his head so tight you’re afraid it might pop off, your fingers tugging at his hair. He thoroughly enjoys himself, moving his head from side to side on you and eating you out like you’re his first meal after five years in the desert. You feel a strong tightness grow in your abdomen as he continues and your heart races. Matt moves his left hand up and laces his fingers with you, giving you a gentle squeeze as you teeter a dangerous line. It’s like your desire for him just increased ten times more than what you already feel; you want him, and you want to make him feel good like he’s doing to you right now. With a swift movement of his tongue and a curl of his fingers, you feel something snap in you as you cry out at the top of your lungs, your entire body spasming as you come around Matt’s fingers and on his face. Matt tries to get his face deeper in you, licking you clean and taking everything you offer him before pulling back and kissing all over your skin.

“I’d say you like my mouth better,” he pants with a smirk, letting you watch as he licks his fingers clean. “Are you okay, (Y/N)?”

You’re incredibly blissed out and completely entranced by him, but you nod, pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I’m stellar,” you breathe as he pulls back from the kiss. “That was . . . You’re . . . I love you, Matt.”

Matt smiles more, and you’ve never seen him glow quite like he is now. Sure, he was radiant today, but now there’s a little layer of something extra on him. “I love you too, (Y/N).”

He pulls you in, but whatever switch turned on in your brain while he was between your legs with his fingers locked with yours now has a voice shouting in your head that you can’t quite ignore telling you to take control. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Matt breathes, an amused smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he follows where your hands guide him on the bed. 

“You told me to lie back and enjoy myself, and I did,” you say as you move to straddle his lap. “Now I’m going to ask you to do the same.”

“Are you sure?” He looks surprised, but incredibly turned on at the same time. “You know you don’t need to. I can keep—.”

“Mm, I know,” you nod. “I want this. I want to do this. Is it okay with you.”

“Yes,” he breathes, totally enamored as his hands glide up and down your thighs. 

Taking a deep breath, you grab Matt by the base of his cock, holding him straight and lining him up with you so you can sink down on him. You moan at the sensation of him. He feels just as large—perhaps even larger—then you could have ever imagined. Matt closes his eyes and throws his head back, moaning in delight. It’s so hot to hear him make those noises, you just want to keep pulling them from his throat. 

“G-Go slow,” he instructs, a flush spreading on his chest. “Take your time taking each inch, sweetheart. Go slow and listen to your body.”

You nod, listening to his advice and take him carefully, the stretch and burn both painful and delightful. You swallow hard when you get all the way down, letting yourself take in the full feeling of him and how you stretch around him. Matt’s hands glide up your thighs, going up over your curves to your waist. His fingers spread and trail in front of my stomach, and you can feel him graze against where his cock is in you before they slide back down to settle on your hips.

“You okay, angel?” he whispers. 

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “You feel so amazing, Matty.”

“So do you, angel.” 

Slowly, you start to roll your hips back and forth to give way to some of the friction and pressure, needing to feel him. Your mouth drops and you start to moan, his thick cock tickling every last nerve ending between your legs. Matt’s fingers dig into your hips as he helps guide you along.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he breathes breathlessly as he licks his lips. “So good f’me.”

“You like that?” you breathe as you gaze down on him, and he nods vigorously. You smirk and place your hands down on his rock hard stomach to help you for your next move. “Then I think you’ll like this.”

As you roll back to the center position, you start to push up on your knees, slowly bouncing on his length. You moan louder as you feel the drag on his cock against your velvety walls, feeling how he almost falls out of you before you sink back down. 

Matt looks like a mess, for a lack of a better word. A deep pink, nearly red flush all over his skin as he starts to sweat, desperately trying to focus and hold on. He swallows hard, and you can see his Adam’s Apple bob. 

“Matt,” you hum. 

“Don’t stop,” he pants, the muscle in his jaw feathering. “Don’t stop, don’t stop. I’m . . . ‘M close.”

Your rhythm slows as you lean down on top of him and kiss him deeply. Matt’s arms wrap around you and pull you close, rolling you on the mattress so he’s on top. As his lips stay on yours, you can tell he’s trying to control his hips to prolong our activity.

“Matty,” you pant. “Matty, harder. I want you to cum for me. I want to feel you cum in me.”

He’s a groaning, blubbering mess as his hips start to ram into you, a very distinct wet sound along with that of slapping skin filling the bedroom walls. The mattress squeaks while the headboard hits the frosted glass behind the bed, and you can’t help how your fingernails claw angry red lines down his back. Your knees hook onto his hips, creating a deeper angle—once his hits the very back of you, you moan and scream out as your body trembles in pleasure as Matt does the same. Matt groans, punctuated thrusts of his hips moving to get himself as deep as possible in you as he unravels and you feel is hot cum fill you up.

Matt holds you in his arms, both of your bodies covered in sweat as your breathing starts to even out. You close your eyes, swallowing hard as you stroke his hair, getting lost in his hold. Matt just hums, his lips kissing wherever they can find purchase. 

“I can last longer than that, I swear,” he breathes, and you both chuckle.

“You don’t need to worry, Matt,” you smile, your fingers trailing down the line of his back. “I’ve left you high and dry for about a year and a half.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true.”

“Us making out and and sometimes grinding against one another on the couch after too many drinks isn’t the same as what we just did, nor is you having a wet dream when we’re asleep.”

“No, they’re not,” he smiles. “But you’ve always given me everything I needed.”

Matt presses a long kiss to your lips before he sits up on his knees, continually kissing your knuckles. 

“I’m going to be back with a towel for you, okay?” he breathes, kissing at your fingertips.

“Stay,” you ask. “Stay here in bed with me.”

“I should clean you up.” 

“Please, Matty?” You give him a puppy dog pout, knowing that even though he can’t see it, he sure as hell can sense it. 

“Fine. This time.”

You smile as you slowly pull him toward you, his lips meeting yours before he lays down next to you and you curl into his chest. 

“Matt?” you start softly, a voice growing in your head louder and louder until you can’t ignore it any longer. 

“Yeah, angel?” he responds, his voice gravely. 

“Was . . . Was it worth the wait?”

He turns his face toward you with the sweetest smile on his lips. “It was more than I could’ve hope for.” He brushes some hair off your forehead. “Do you think it was worth the wait?”

Your fingertips trail down his chest, drawing little patterns on his skin as you look at him. “I do. I do. It felt right. Extra special.” You cringe and chuckle.

“What?” Matt smiles.

“I sounded so sappy and old-fashioned!” you laugh, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“You’re not wrong, though. It was amazing. And I can always say that the first time I was with you, it was on the happiest day of my life.”

“Now you sound sappy and old-fashioned.”

You chuckle together, and you hum in delight when you feel his lips press a prolonged kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers. 

“I love you,” you murmur back, the sleep starting to settle into your body. “Can I let you in on a little secret, Matty?”

“Of course. That’s what husbands are for.”

You smile from ear to ear as he kisses your forehead. 

“I’ve got about twenty of little sets like that. And that’s not including slips and other things. I mean, you’ve felt the slips before. I’ve been building up a little stock since we got engaged.”

Matt hums, running a hand up and down your back. “Then it’s a good thing we’re home all week for our honeymoon so we can cycle through those outfits. And I promise, you’ll see just how long I can last.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​ @blackhawkfanatic

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @loves0phelia

[minhosimthings]

Lancey or Lancey

Symphony Smut Series Day 5: Lancey Foxx's Lancey or Lancey

Lyric: Took her to Paris, she took her panties off

Pairings: Bf!Felix × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, p in v sex, overstimulation, lingerie kink, Frottage, implied use of pheromone, dom!felix, sub!reader, protected sex, reader orgasms like 3 times, fluffy at the end (sorta), smut with plot

A/N: sorry for delaying day 5 everyone! I had to release my Christmas headcannons yesterday so I couldn't really post this. But we are back on track! So enjoy my urge for Felix to buy my lingerie, through this stupid oneshot.

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

"Felix tell me you're kidding right now."

"Hmm." Your boyfriend put his finger to his temple, pretending to playfully think, "I think.... Nope!"

You could have screamed out loud right there. But instead of damaging your boyfriend's ears, you decided to damage his heart, by filling it with too much love, by hugging him almost to the point of his ribs breaking.

"I love, I love you, and I love you." You kissed every part of his face after every 'i love you'. His freckles, his nose and finally his lips, where you loved to be the most.

"I can't believe we're going to Paris." You slumped back on the bed, not being able to realise that you had Paris tickets clutched in your hands.

"Me neither darling." Felix leaned closer to you, encasing your waist in his arms, his grip sending tingles throughout your body, "Oh and I have a surprise for you."

"Don't tell me you got me lingerie." You rolled your eyes at him playfully, "Lix, for god's sake you already bought me so much crap."

"But this is special, I promise!" Felix scrunched his nose at you, before reaching over and taking out a box from underneath the bed.

"You hid it under my bed for how long exactly?" You raised your brow at his weird hiding spot, "Wait so this is why you were searching for your missing sock under my bed!?"

Felix chuckled, his deep voice pulsating throughout your body like electroshock. "You never clean the underside of your bed, so it became the perfect hiding place."

The box he held in his hands was about the size of a shoebox, completely covered in pink ribbons and lace and whatnot. It was pretty, you had to admit, but you were confused about whether Felix was getting you a box or lingerie.

"Open it princess." Felix nudged the box into your arms, "You'll like it, I promise."

You had often gotten lingerie as gifts from your boyfriend, with all of them almost becoming your daily wear. But he had never gotten you something like this.

"Liz is this-" "A lingerie dress? Yes princess, yes it is."

You stared at felix in awe, before snapping your head back to the white cloth in the box. It was pretty, made up of, what you assumed was white silk, with lace ribbons decorating the neckline perfectly.

"But, but, but, this isn't the surprise."

You looked up at Felix with confusion clouding your eyes, which made him chukle at how adorable you were.

"So the surprise is-" Felix said, in a hyperbole voice, "I get to fuck you in these in Paris."

"That's the surprise?" You scoffed, at how underwhelming it was, "We could fuck-"

"And you get no sex until we get to Paris and you're in this beautiful piece of art."

It was as if you got a slap to your face when you heard Felix's words echo through your mind.

"Lee Felix Yongbok." You glared at him, "Tell me you're joking."

"Nope." Felix leaned back against the bedframe, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal his abs, "Let's just say this is payback for making me love no nut November on purpose."

"So what is this then? Death by No Dick December?" You glared at him, as he sealed you tighter in his arms.

"Impatient aren't you?" Felix mumbled into your ear, rubbing his hand against your leggings, "Patience is a good virtue darling."

"Not when your dick is literally rubbing against my pussy."

A week passed and you were finally in the land of romance and love and roses and croissants.

A week with none of your favourite food in your mouth or in your pussy. Felix enjoyed it, the way you were basically on your knees for him, but you weren't a sore loser, so you kept the game up, with the help of your trusty vibrator.

But now, it was the real game.

After you enjoyed some nice croissants by a quaint cafe and petted a lot of stray cats, you headed back to your hotel, side-eyeing Felix all along the way who had not a clue about all the breakdowns you were about to have. Your cunt was itching to the point of destruction, and his dick was the only way of peace.

"Well aren't you gorgeous now?"

The room was more dimly lit than it was when you had entered it, the smell of lavender intoxicating you, courtesy to Felix's new perfume.

"Come 'ere." Felix opened his arms, as you silently walked towards him, the chill breeze from the open window giving you goosebumps. The material of the lingerie was thinner than you had anticipated, basically transparent, but then you reminded yourself that this was what Felix liked the most. And if you obeyed properly like his good princess, he would give you the medicine to your poor cunt.

"Fuck you're like a goddess." Felix's hands traced over your barely clothes thighs, leaving marks with his mouth on your collarbone, making you whimper.

"What do you want princess?" Felix chuckled. Teasing you was always fun, "My cock hmm? Use your big girl words now, come on. We don't wanna disappoint the city of love do we?"

"Ah fuck Lix!" Your voice vibrated off of the walls as felix squeezed the inner walls of your thigh, the desperation of him had been so high that even a tiny squeeze was already getting you wet, "Need your cock please!"

"Good girl."

He chuckles at how needy you sound, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.

You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your panties.

Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your cunt. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit.

He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.

You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.

His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.

As soon as you seem to be coming down, Felix lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how the weeks without pussy had been paying off. He was getting better.

He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.

Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.

“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”

“Lix” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”

He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.

He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.

“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.

You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.

He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.

"Well-" Felix's deep voiced chuckle vibrates throughout your body, "That was fucking good."

"First of all-" you sleepily say, "Fuck you for depriving me of all that good dick for a week." You glare at him, "Second of all, I want more lingerie like this."

"Whatever you say darling." Felix shrugs his shoulders, supporting you a little straighter against his figure, "You know Paris does have really good lingerie."

Taglist: @ramenoil @mynameisniya150 @demigodmahash + whoever wants to be tagged the list is open!

[mxanigel]

There are two wolves inside me.

First wolf: patience is a virtue, you can wait a few more days to post your next chapter, being on a schedule is good

Second wolf: YOU WROTE A THING~ POST IT POST IT NOW

[phoward89]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2:

White hot pain courses throughout your body as you lay on your stomach, on your small bed in the corner of the room. The room that was your bedroom, kitchen, and living room all in one cramped spot. Sitting on the bed next to you was Coryo.

He was washing your wounds, causing you to wince; let out sobs and whimpers since he wasn't very gentle.

“Stop whining, I'm almost done, darling.” Coryo told you with an edge to his baritone.

“It hurts, Coryo.” You cried, feeling like you just wanted to die- that's how much pain you're in.

And it seems that the asshole next to you, the peacekeeper responsible for your situation, isn't very empathetic despite claiming that he's your man now. Oh hell…how did this happen to you? Is your luck really that shitty?

“My friend, Sejanus, has some morphling for a bum knee. I'll find him; get some for you.” He told you, cleaning the last of your wounds. “Okay, pretty girl?”

“Okay.” You said, relieved that your tormenter (err new peacekeeper boyfriend?) was going to get you something for the pain.

“I'll get you some food too.” Coryo said while pulling your blanket on you, so that you wouldn't be cold. “Can't have my girl starving while she's hurt and healing, can I?” He rhetorically asked, standing up and taking the bowl with the bloody water and stained wash cloth over to the sink.

You heard the sound of the bowl clanking against the counter as he set it down. You also heard the sound of cabinets opening and closing as he looked for something in your sorry excuse for a kitchen. Curious about what he was doing, you turned your head only to see him taking your box of teabags out of the cabinet you stored them in. Oh, how nice of him. He's making you tea after he got you whipped; got your back torn to bloody shreds.

Oh yes, a cup of tea’s going to make everything all better. You'd rather have the morphling. You'd also rather be alone right now to wallow in your misery as well.

After leaving a cup of tea by your bedside and telling you to rest, Coriolanus left your apartment to go buy some groceries. After buying a bag of food, enough to feed the both of you for the week, he searched for Sejanus. Coriolanus was only seeking out the annoying district dog because you needed morphling; Sejanus was his only option to get it for you.

Well, that's not exactly true. Coriolanus can always acquire some from the local black market, but it'd cost him a fortune. Plus, he's not even sure that a morphling dealer would even sell to him considering he's wearing denim blue Peacekeeper fatigues. And he couldn't waste his time trying to haggle with some drug dealer, not when you're in desperate need of pain meds.

Oh, if only you didn't steal that apple; then Coriolanus would've never turned you in and you wouldn't be hurt. Why did you have to be so desperate? Couldn't you have just waited for him to approach you, to offer to buy you a treat of some sort?

Coriolanus knew that he'd have to teach you some patience. It is, after all, a very important virtue to have. He, in fact, is a very patient man. Perhaps that's why he was able to put up with all of your sobbing while cleaning up your bloody; shredded back. If he was a lesser man, he would've backhanded you and tossed you into the shower.

But, he's a patient man, so he'll deal with your bullshit in order to get what he wants. Oh, yea, and what he wants is you. You getting his dick wet more precisely. And also being the mother of his children, his wife, and his future First Lady since he finds you to be both beautiful and captivating.

He just has to teach you patience and maybe some manners too. At least you’re smart, or he thinks you are since you didn't try to run from him or beg your way out of your punishment.

So, when Coriolanus finally spots Sejanus (talking to some shady looking locals, of course) he jogs up to him- causing the sack of groceries slug over his shoulder to jostle around. “Sejanus, I need some of your morphling. My girl, Y/N, was whipped real bad this morning; I've been taking care of her since, but she's in pain- tear inducing pain.”

Of course, Coriolanus wasn't going to tell his friend that he's the one who turned you in; the one who got you whipped. Why would he? It wasn't any of Sejanus' business. He didn't need to know that tiny, insignificant detail. The district born dog didn't need to know everything about you and Coryo's life.

Sejanus' eyes went wide at his friend's words. He heard from a local rebel contact that a girl was stripped naked and badly whipped on the snow over an allegation of a stolen apple, one that she didn't have on her. But he didn't know that it was Coryo's girl that got whipped that morning.

“I heard about that, but I didn't know she was your girl, Coryo. Of course, I'll give you my morphling for her.” Sejanus told Coriolanus, sticking his hand in his pocket and quickly pulling out a bottle of morphling. Handing it over to the platinum blonde, he said, “If she needs anymore, just take it out of my lockbox.”

Yes! Score!

Coriolanus was ecstatic that he was able to manipulate stupid, sweet, do-gooder Sejanus into giving him some morphling. He wasn't expecting him to tell Coryo to wipe him out of his drug supply, but he's not going to turn that down.

No…

He's going to make good on that offer, snag up all of Sejanus' morphling so that you won't be in pain while you heal. You're just so pretty; Coriolanus hates the idea of you being in so much pain. And over something that could've been easily avoided too.

“Thank you, Sej. Really, I don't know what we'd do without your help.” Coryo told the dark haired peacekeeper, clasping him on the shoulder before taking off to get back to you.

You were half asleep (actually, you were half passed out from pain) whenever you heard the door creek open. Turning your head towards the door, you saw Coryo enter the small one-room apartment in the rundown tenant building you call home. A sack was slung over his shoulder.

Going over to the kitchen counter and setting down the sack, he announced, “I got us some groceries; got you the morphling from Sejanus too.”

Us? Since when does he live with you? Doesn't he live on base? Oh fucking hell…

As if he could hear your mental musings, he explained, “I'm trading days with some of my squad, taking their days off and then working for them, so I can spend some time here with you until you can get up; do for yourself.”, while unpacking the sack of groceries.

Great…

Just great…

Now he's dead set on staying with you, taking care of you til you're able to move around, and he's trading work days to do it. Oh by the gods, how the hell did this insane man find you? He's acting as if you're his lover, not some girl he turned in for punishment- for whipping.

Hell…

Why did you listen to Ashlie? You should've stayed home, in District 12. At least you wouldn't be dealing with delusional Private Coryo if you’d stayed in 12. God, you hate District 8 so much right now.

“Did you drink your tea?” Coryo asked, as if he really gave a fuck about your well-being, while grabbing some produce and putting them away in your small fridge.

“Some of it.” You answered right as a knock sounded at the door.

“You expecting anyone?” The platinum blonde demon of a man asked while going over to the door.

“No.” You simply told him, earning you a nod.

Coriolanus answered the door, only to be met with a petite young woman. “Are you here to see my girl, Y/N?” He asked the brunette, who was trying to look around his large frame and into the apartment.

“Your girl? She didn't mention taking up with a peacekeeper last time I saw her.” You heard Ashlie, your late brother's girlfriend that abandoned you after dragging you out here to this hellhole called 8, tell Coryo.

��Yes, well, it’s a fairly new development. But she's mine all the same.” Coryo told Ashlie in a diplomatic tone, a shit eating grin on his face.

He has power over you and like hell some ratty whore was going to poke and prod him about his relationship with you. It was none of her business that he just scooped you up today, literally.

“Send her away, Coryo.” You loudly ordered, since with didn't want to be bothered with Ashlie. Didn't she have better things to do, like live her new life with that rebel boyfriend of hers, then to check in on you? Not like she's been going out of her way to see you before you got hurt.

Looking between you and the door, Coryo simply nodded and, without warning, slammed the door shut in Ashlie's face. She tried to open it back up, but he threw his tall body against it- slamming it shut again and quickly locked the lock and placed the door chain in place.

Crossing the room, making a beeline towards your bed, Coriolanus asked, “Who was she, Y/N?”

“She used to be my brother's girl til he got blown up to bits during the summer when our rebel neighbor bombed the mines.” You explained to him as he pulled out a vial of morphling from his pocket.

Crouching down next to you, he popped the cork of the vial and tilted your chin up, only to pour the pain medicine down your throat. “Mines? But 8 doesn't have any mines.”

“Thank you.” You gratefully told Coryo as he set the empty vial to the side, next to your half empty teacup. “I'm originally from 12; just applied for a district transfer cause Ashlie couldn't handle her grief over Rein's death. She begged me to come here with her when word got out that a plague decreased their workforce; made district transfers available.” You explained, even tho you probably shouldn't be. He is a peacekeeper after all. And the one to get you whipped. But what harm is there in telling him your story? It's not like you have anyone anyways, you're an orphan- truly alone.

“I take it you're not on good terms with her.” Coryo said knowingly.

You're at the mercy of a delusional white-blonde peacekeeper. Thanks to Ashlie taking off. And any hope there was at repairing the sisterly friendship you once had flew out the window once you go whipped and became the the girl of some peacekeeper grunt- who's a hand short of a full deck.

“Not long after moving here she hooked up with some guy she met; left me all alone. So, yea, we're not on good terms.”

“I'm sorry she did that to you, darling. Family should never abandon family.” The blonde told you, lifting up your blanket to check on your wounds. “I'm here now, baby. You're my girl; I'll never let you be alone again.’ He promised, pressing a kiss to an unblemished part of your shoulder.

You didn't know what was worse. Being alone or being stuck with him. And something deep in your gut tells you that you'll never get rid of him. That he's worse than a tick on a bloodhound.

“Some of these lashes are deep. I can see some muscle and bone.” Coryo informed you. Well, that would explain why your back hurts like a bitch. At least the morphling he got you’s taking the edge off.

“You'll have to stitch me up, Coryo, or else I could get an infection and die.” You honestly told the peacekeeper, since the last thing you wanted was to get gangrene or sepsis. You really didn't want to get stuck going to the rundown public district hospital. You didn't have money for that, plus you heard some horror stories from coworkers at the peacekeeper uniform plant about the hospital.

No thank you, you'll take your chances at home with the devil.

“Don't talk like that, my darling. I'm not going to let you die; I'm going to take care of you.” Coryo said, petting your hair and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving your side to go find your sewing kit in order to stitch you up.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @twinkletwinklenotastar @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @shellybellysstuff @zombicupcake3

[xmissrogersx]

Mine | Din Djarin

tags: a lot of fluff, and when i say a lot is A LOT. Grogu being adorable as always.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

priscila masterlist

-Being a fugitive princess had not started easy. "How can you say that, you have your freedom, isn't that what you wanted?". Of course, no one said you had to face every danger out there, right? With the risk of crossing who knows what a lunatic who could...

-Cyar'ika...

-What? He loves that I tell him that story, doesn't it, baby? —I asked looking at his big eyes, to which Grogu laughed stretching his little hands towards me.-Your father is only jealous of not being able to tell stories like I do.

Din laughed under his breath to refocus on the next jump, while trying to be cautious not to show where they were going.

He thanked the creator every damn morning when he saw her face when she woke up next to him. The way his body molded to his, as if he had always lacked a part of himself.

That part was Priya.

-Where are we going? —I saw how the Crest navigation course changed.

-It's a surprise —he replied while keeping the autopilot.

-Surprise? What kind of surprise? Because you know well that the word "surprise" envelops... —he walks towards me to get up and put me on his right shoulder. -Din, take me down now!

-It's time to rest, cyar'ika.

-Oh, please, just give me a hint, and as a reward maybe I'll use the handcuffs you have saved —I exclaimed soncarrona.

-Don't abuse, mesh'la —he said, placing me on our improvised bed.

I turn off the lights in the bedroom, proceeding to remove part of the armor.

-For Odin, you're killing me —I heard his laugh because of my comment.-You're depriving me of the show, Din Djarin, and that's unforgivable.

He lay down next to me, wrapping us both in the blanket he had bought at Naboo.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

From meeting the Mandalorian 1 year ago, I knew that the mystery was already part of it, but I must admit that this time it had exceeded my expectations.

-Now are you going to tell me where we are? —I asked, feeling the Crest ramp because of the blindfold that covered my eyes, while Din held my hand.

-Patience is not a virtue of yours, mesh'la.

We walked a few meters, until I felt it stop.Suddenly, the clarity flooded my eyes and I blinked repeatedly without believing what I saw before my eyes.

A large library stood before me. Volumes and books of different sizes and colors. I smiled with tears in my eyes.

A slight whistle paralyzed me, following an object placed on the ground.

-Din...

-Happy Birthday, cyar'ika —I heard his answer, with his voice without the modulator.-Please, turn around.

-You don't have to do it, you know I would never force you.

-I can't stand it anymore, I want to take your face in my hands and be able to see you without having the helmet in between. Please, Priya.

I turned slowly with my eyes closed, and approached him. I raised my hands towards his face, and felt how he kissed my palms, as I had already done countless times.

Take the courage I needed to see the man under the beskar.

Brown orbs, in combination with their beautiful brown hair with their waves.

He looked at me with doubt and fear, as if my response to his face was decisive.

I smiled again, letting the tears run down my cheeks. Joined our breaths, making him see that he never wanted to leave. But this time it felt different from the previous ones. No blanket covered my eyes and I could admire the beauty of his features.

-So, what do you think? —he asked as we parted.

For Odin, Din Djarin, you are beautiful —I replied nodding, while distributing small kisses on his face.-I love you, in this and in all universes, no matter how you look under that bucket.

-You and the child became the only thing that matters in my life. You are my family, and if I had to cross the galaxy for you I would never doubt it -we both turned around when we saw Grogu trying to reach the shelf.

I turned to see him again, and I could notice how his orbs acquired a glow that sent an electric wave down my back.

-Now that you've seen my face, what would happen next —he exclaimed as he knelt in front of me.-It's what I've been longing for since the day you got on the ship, Priya.

Small tears threatened to fall from my eyes, and without waiting for him to ask me, I threw myself into his arms, knocking us both to the floor, flooding the place with our laughter.

-Would you be my riduur, mesh'la?

-In this, and in all universes, I accept Din Djarin.

[orange-imagines]

hey heyyyy, you got any takes on what Leonard would be like in a romantic relationship? :eyesemoji:

Relationship: Romantic

A/N: YESSIR right away sir o7

Congrats! You and Len finally finished your five-year-long romantically charged pining phase! What next?

Personally, I don't think Leonard's been in a committed relationship before. He's had dates and people who have struck his fancy in the past, but he had a lot more walls up back then and, in general, is someone who needs others to really take the time to get to know him. He doesn't hit it off with anyone right away, he doesn't believe in love at first sight, and he doesn't like people who try to pester him to be his friend or push him to let his guard down when he isn't ready. He likes you because you understand that, and you've put in the time and effort to respect his boundaries and go at the pace he's comfortable with. Patience is a virtue that he really respects, especially when it comes from you.

He's still a relatively slow mover after you two get together, but now he has bursts of impulsiveness that will catch you off guard whenever they happen. Your first kiss happened completely out of the blue when he just felt the urge to kiss you. He said the L word for the first time in the back of the van after a successful heist- right behind Mick and Dan. He can get embarrassed and stumble over his words sometimes, sure, but when something really matters to him he says it outright and without shame, and anyone who wants to make fun of him can deal with their head being put through a wall.

He's a protective partner. Not in the way that he gets into it with anyone who looks at you wrong- he's good at ignoring people who bother him and he trusts you to handle yourself and let him know if you need him to back you up. He'll hold your bag or jacket if you want to go tell someone off and watch you fondly the whole time, but if someone tries to mess with you and you're not in the mood, Len's not afraid to knock their teeth out then and there, no hesitation. He doesn't care who they are: anyone who tries to start on you is immediately on his shit list. He doesn't care about the consequences.

You get to see Leonard at his softest and gentlest, more than anyone else. It's something that he's used to struggling with, but he has such an easy time letting his guard down around you in a way that he can't explain. It feels weird for him not to talk to you about what's on his mind and tell you everything that's going on with him and the boys at the moment. He really like getting to lay back with his head in your lap while he talks to you- and, yes, he'll even let you play with his hair while he does. It's seeped with hairspray and other products, but once you get through all that it's very soft and well taken care of, especially if you get to it before he's had time to puff it up for the day. He might grumble, but he loves the feeling of your hands in his hair so please keep at it.

Speaking of hair, he really likes doing yours. He can occupy himself for hours just sitting beside you and shaking your hair out, running his fingers through it, putting it in several different styles while you do your own thing. He'll give you some attitude if you move a lot ("Just sit still! You're messing me up!") but his face is cute when he concentrates, especially when he's holding bobby pins or hair ties between his teeth.

He thinks he's hot shit but he's so easy to tease sometimes. Give him an "aw, you like holding my hand?" or "you like spending time with me? That's sweet" and watch him go "whatever!" and get all warm in the face. Be prepared for retribution in the future, though. He's still a cocky little shitty who likes to fluster you when the opportunity arises.

He loves gossiping with you. Please bitch and complain to him, it's literally his love language. He gets so much joy out of hearing you rant about work drama/shitty friends + family/random incidents that bothered you throughout the day. He'll be doing the same thing himself because he's a closet drama queen, and he can go back and forth with you for hours about his pet peeves and people who annoy him. He just loves being a little hater with you.

He usually calls you by your name or some variation of "babe". He's not great at sappy pet names, but if you use any on him you'll see it have an instant effect: him averting you gaze with a red face, fighting back a smile, muttering "you're so cheesy". He loves it though, don't let him fool you.

He hums and mumbles through song lyrics absentmindedly while he works, so you get your own private show whenever you help him with his plans. If you recognize what he's singing, feel free to harmonize with him- he likely won't even realize it until he wraps up his tune. He finds this habit of his funny, if not a bit embarrassing (compliment him on his voice afterward, I dare you).

Honestly, not a whole lot changes when you guys get together- apart from the obvious romantic affection. For the most part he just acts like your best friend. You're someone he doesn't have to worry about putting up a front around because he knows you know him better than that. He puts a huge amount of trust in you, which makes him feel squishy and vulnerable, but he's found himself liking it a lot more than he ever thought he would. And he loves you for that.

[proverbsss]

treating you right (father paul hill/john pruitt x reader) -nsfw

(pt. 3 of "reading you right" series linked here)

Father Paul Hill, Midnight Mass

reader(s): thank you so much for your compliments and encouragement, I'm so grateful we can share our carnal need for this man together : ) // this is a WIP without an ending, as I've lost a little muse. Hopefully someday I will update!

notifs: paul hill is a tease again!! ; you got ate out too good and it shut your brain off; hierophilia + Father ment. ; one 'Daddy' mention

"Father, I need--"

"I know. I know, it's okay," he's off the end of the bed in a swift movement, kicking off his boots. "Take off your shirt too." he instructs.

He's barely able to slow down and striptease you, peeling off his shirt and revealing his belly, his chest, his shoulders--all of which he's well aware you love. His major preoccupation, like thirst, like hunger, is the throbbing incomparable feeling of his cock hard in his jeans and getting as naked and free of these inhibitors as possible.

He's almost talking to himself, that soft, sweet, guiding tone, "You thought you could get me to switch harder than that and you ended up needing me inside you, it's okay."

You keen, incapable of refuting him. He swiftly climbs back over you, making the well-used bed creak underneath you both, his expression tensely focused. Just the look on his face, faintly sticky with your cum, his lips certainly still drippy with it, feels like it gets you close to another orgasm. You're caged between his arms and legs and he's the world. And your cunt /aches/ for him.

"Uh, fuck, please, need you now, please-"

His underwear are still in the way of what you both need. You could see before, and now you feel brushing your leg, your thigh, just how wet with pre-cum the front of them is. Paul's cock isn't too big for you, it is a little thicker than you're used to, and it is certainly a thing of beauty. You yearn to touch, taste, feel him and he insists on cradling you like this.

"A little patience is a virtue," he murmurs, his face once again hovering above yours.

"You stretching me the fuck out is a virtue. Bless me, Father."

He growls, an amused, primal sound. "What did I tell you about talking like a dirty movie?"

"I don't /feel/ like a dirty movie, please," you take his hand in yours and direct him to cup one of your tits. That lovely amber-rich color of his eyes envelops you as yours meet them.

"That you don't." he concedes, looking down, a drop of pity tugging at the edges of his mouth. That mouth that sent you reeling in pleasure moments before, your heartbeat still hasn't calmed down. "I think these need a little attention--" he shifts a bit down your body, delighted at the way your gaze follows him, and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out and your hips buck. Haha, Paul thinks, now /you're/ the one humping at nothing.

"What?" he laughs, nipping at your tit and relishing your reaction. "You get to drag it out for me but I can't do it to you? Talk about double standards." His hands find your hips and clarify a little who's in charge. "No, these tits are what I want to play with, so I'm going to." The tips of some of his teeth graze the underside of your nipple as he sucks gently at the sensitive flesh. You cry out again. "Mhm?" his eyes flick up to your blissed out face. "You need me to make you feel real? Is that it? Every time I push inside you, you get to let go of everything, is that what you need?”

“Yes Father.”

“Good girl.”

Paul can’t be deterred from lavishing a little more attention on your tits before he moves ahead though. What you don’t know can’t hurt you, Paul smirks to himself as his tongue and teeth explore you. What you don’t know can’t do anything but make you whimper and put your hands in his hair; his sacramental bloodthirst is still a secret Paul keeps from you, but he can expose his fangs just a little and nip at the sensitive bud of your nipple with that much more pressure.

“Ohh-” You utter a whine that sounds something like a question, pleasure peaking at the feel of his teeth. No partner you’ve been with before has ever made you question whether you could cum from just your tits being touched—with Paul you have to wonder. Why is a priest so good with his mouth? One of life’s mysteries. You cover your own as he tweaks the one bitten nipple between his index finger and thumb, and teethes at the other.

“No—” Paul surprises you, taking his lips off your breast and scolding you, “No, I let you get away with it before. Hand off mouth. I’d like to hear how well I’m doing,” then when you hesitate, his voice gets a little brusquer. His eyes almost seem to—glow? “Off mouth.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and try and get some part, any part of him, against your needy cunt. Paul laughs and lets you chase the substitute for real authentic friction. The laugh reverbs on your tit, against your tummy.

“Please…” your voice is unsteady as you beg. “Please more please more please—”

“More? I wonder what you mean…More of my mouth?” You whine. Somewhere between now and that instant several moments ago when you looked down and saw Paul Hill, tongue out and face wet with your juices, shaking his head and humming obscenely into your clit—whatever was left of your conscious cognitive abilities left your body on his lips.

“Please-” you don’t know if increasing the severity of the plea will get across the message you need it to, but desperation is one of few resources left to you, you might as well try it.

“Ah…Not my mouth. I’m almost hurt. You’ll have to help me get over the wound to my pride, you think you can do that, puppy?”

You make a verbal noise that’s a gasp of consonants, nothing like spoken English.

“Yes? You want to be Father’s bitch? I could see that on you. Collar for me, collar for you.” He’s grinning, intensely pleased with himself, grinding against you now as rhythmically as you are him. “Good girl. Ask me to take myself out now.”

Another keening noise from you. Hopefully Crockett Island both assumes their pastor just has a very uncomfortable stomach cramp, and also forgets how low the cadence of his voice is.

“Dnnn, fck—F’ther—please—” He cocks an eyebrow at you, like he might if you made an off-color joke after Mass, or spilled something on yourself. It’s pure patronizing and you feel yourself clench around nothing at the look of it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak mutt. Try again.” Then for good measure he whispers, hot breath against your belly, “I believe in you.”

“Daddy—Father—please—fuck my pussy…I wanna be good puppy for you.”

His eyes flash, that illusion of gold again, at the sound of another unexpected honorific off your lips. Definitely something to explore later. He can’t resist the warmth of your skin, which is dire. Because if he lets himself go too far with that he’ll draw blood and Satan take the hindmost. He nips lightly at your tummy, just under one of your tits. Breathe, John. Hm. His name. Another secret she doesn’t know. Will there be time to tell her? Will there be a sign to give her the same gift that’s been given him?

He’s awakened from his stupor by you clapping your hands on his shoulder blades, his arms, anything you can reach to tell him without words that you can’t be empty much longer.

“Please take your cock out, Father, please I need you to fuck me.”

He takes a beat just holding your gaze, one of the most erotic moments suspended in time as you've lived it. You see the sheer thirst in him by that look. You see yourself as a meal, a toy, something to be played roughly with and ruined.

The effect is just as devastating on him. Your eyes are lyrical. You actually, truly beg with your eyes.

Finally his hands are fumbling in your periphery to shimmy his underwear at least off his length for his dick to start toward somewhere it can do you both good.

____________ to be continued _______________________________

[beanghostprincess]

Why do you think in shuggy break up Luffy would be on buggy side?

I think it's obvious, isn't it? The core purpose and inspiration of Luffy are dreams and freedom. Luffy's character quite literally is just about that (and more, but those are his main character traits). As the story progresses, we see him helping others, not because he wants to or because he's nice like that (he isn't. He is a fucking menace to society) but because those are the specific buttons you have to press for him to be empathetic or resentful. Luffy is pretty much a selfish person. He's not helping others just because he can, but because of the unfairness of the world or how they treat others. If he doesn't get along with you, he gives zero fucks about what happens to you UNLESS a dream or freedom is involved. Because it's not really about you, then, but about this precious concept he has of life and freedom and how everyone should be able to choose and live however they want. He isn't selfless but he does fight for what he thinks is right. And what Luffy perceives as something everybody should be able to have is both dreams and the freedom to achieve them. So, basically, Luffy is empathetic and helps if he likes you (basically if you're cool or show signs of being a nice person) or if there's something keeping you from being free.

Anyway, why am I telling you all of this? Because I think that, if Luffy knew about what really happened between Shanks and Buggy from Buggy's perspective, he'd side with Buggy without any hesitation. Well. Maybe a little hesitation. Maybe a ton of hesitation because of Shanks. Let me explain-

Let's just make a hypothetical situation in which the three of them are together and Shanks and Buggy start arguing about what happened that day. Yadda yadda yadda, it doesn't really have to make sense for me to explain this. The thing is, Buggy tells his side of the story, and Luffy hears it. I think his first reaction would be about Shanks. He would have SO many questions about his decision. "Why didn't you go for the One Piece right away, Shanks?! Why did you hesitate?! Why did you let Buggy run away and not run after him?!" Because, due to his impatient and overly protective nature (and abandonment issues, cof cof) of the ones he loves, Luffy would instantly ask himself these things. Because Luffy wouldn't have done it this way. Luffy wouldn't have hesitated. He makes impulsive decisions on the spot. If he wants something, he's gonna go take it. And if his best friend leaves without explaining anything (WATER FUCKING SEVEN) he's gonna run after them (STRONG WORLD!!!!!!!) and make them come back to him because he knows something's wrong (WHOLE CAKE ISLAND MY BELOVED). So I personally think he'd be defensive at first with Shanks and Shanks would look away with the most painful of stares and avoid Luffy's hurt eyes. You know when he gets angry at him for what happened to Uta because he can't understand anything and Shanks can't tell him what happened and Luffy has to learn to be mature and accept that sometimes he just won't understand/agree with some of Shanks' decisions? Well, that's him right now. Shanks tells him there was something deeper going on (because of fucking course Oda is gonna go full drama and turn Shanks' hesitation at the time into something extremely painful). Or maybe he just says they weren't ready yet and Luffy just has to understand that patience is a virtue (something that Shanks has actually been teaching him for a long time). Yadda yadda yadda, I think Luffy wouldn't be mad at Shanks for a long time but he wouldn't really truly get it. And besides, the Buggy thing has no excuse. He should've followed him. That's it. End of the discussion. Because that's Luffy's mentality and he'd rather starve to death than let his family go.

Then, I think Luffy would have mixed feelings about Buggy's POV. Because he doesn't understand it, but he gets the important stuff. He doesn't understand why Buggy wouldn't follow his dream even if he feels inferior. He could've just told Shanks. Or maybe just?? Idk. Not feel inferior in the first place (such good fucking advice from somebody like Luffy who gives zero fucks about that sort of thing). But I think he would remember Water 7, too? And Usopp in general? And also all the times he has felt weak and powerless? And I think he doesn't quite understand Buggy's reasons for staying in Shanks' shadow, and that makes him furious and angry at Buggy for giving up so easily, but he would also be kind of sad. I think he'd get the important stuff. Like. The simpler way to put it is that Luffy sees Buggy with this new POV and just sees somebody who lost his hope for X thing and gave up on his dream. The inferiority complex took away his freedom. In fact, the devil fruit and losing the map? That actually was what took away his freedom. Metaphorically and literally. And Luffy sees this and says "Well, it's never too late! You might be a coward and a whiny loser but nothing can take your dream away from you and I'm sure you'll make it! Cheering for you but not much because I'm the one who's gonna be King of the Pirates, but yeah! Good luck! You can do it!". And Buggy takes it as an insult, but I'm pretty sure Luffy would get serious about this at some point and say "Shanks should've run after you... But you were the one who gave up first. There's nothing stopping you now, though!". And... Turns out the damn kid is right?? And Buggy is never going to say that out loud but damn.

I think he'd get along with Buggy, then. Luffy would want to help him achieve his dream all he can. Or at least encourage him and see him as a fair opponent and enemy, which is the most respectful thing he can do as a pirate. He'd be on Buggy's side in the sense that "both parties were acting silly and stupid and should've done things differently but the world has treated Buggy poorly and that is unfair and Shanks should've been the one going after him instead of doing nothing" because he sees himself in Shanks' shoes and it just seems odd to him not to go after the ones you love when this happens.

And also, to put ALL OF THIS in an easier, simpler way: If we're talking about romance exclusively here. About an actual breakup and not just these two parting ways. I think Luffy would be on Buggy's side without hesitation because you don't let go of somebody you love that easily (he's having WCI flashback. Lusan moment. Or Water 7 Lusopp moment. Just choose whatever). Imagine explaining this to Luffy like "Shanks and Buggy had a huge fight about going after the One Piece and Shanks hesitated and Buggy ran away and they broke up" what do you expect him to say?????? Of course he would get angry at Shanks. Even if Shanks had his reasons, Luffy is just fundamentally different in some stuff, even if there are parallelisms between these two. They're different, and Luffy often doesn't agree with Shanks' decisions. Like letting Buggy break up with him. Luffy didn't go through Water 7 and WCI for him to not side with Buggy, honestly.

[blueicequeen19]

Patience is Virtue Pt. 2

Warnings: stalker Rafe, finger action in a car

Part Three

It’s been two days since she told me she had a child and fled. I stood on her doorstep for another ten minutes before I followed her to see for myself.

I watched from a far as she went to Scooter’s widows house and picked up an infant. Not just a kid. An infant. In a fucking carrier and everything.

For a moment I’m defeated. This changed things. But as I watch her load up her child and drive back to her apartment, I realize there’s nothing stopping me. I’m in. She could have ten kids and severe debt and buck teeth. I didn’t care.

If anything I had more to gain now.

A family.

Which brought up the sudden thought of the child’s father. Where was he and how do I keep him out of the picture? I’m suddenly thrown into a fantasy of her swollen and pregnant with my child. I’ve heard pregnant pussy is the best pussy and now my dick is painfully hard. Blue balls were a pain in the ass, even worse when you’re driving.

I can’t stay away now. So like a creep, I wait until it’s well after midnight and the lights are all off before I climb up the sketchy fire escape. There’s nothing more than a sheer curtain over her bedroom window and I can see right in. There’s a crib up against one wall next to her dresser and a mattress and box spring against the other wall.

The urge to steal them both away and give them everything is strong. She deserved better. Suddenly there’s a wail like nothing I’ve ever heard before and she bolts upright in bed then throws the blanket off as she goes to the crib. Her ass is covered in nothing but a tiny pair of panties and an oversized shirt hangs off her shoulders. I palm my cock through my jeans, willing the fucker to go down for a second.

I watch as she tugs the shirt down and shoves her nipple into the banshees mouth. I’m mesmerized by the act. And jealous. Now I want those nipples in my mouth and to know what she tastes like.

I pull my cock out, the pain too much to bare. She tugs her shirt off like she’s hot, leaving herself in nothing but her panties and I nut in less than five strokes. Like a horny fucking teenager who just got to second base. But fuck did it feel good. So good I almost groaned out loud, giving myself away.

I can’t look away even after wiping off my hand, although most of my cum went between the metal grates, and tucking myself away. My dick was still hard and I was still enchanted by her. It was beyond beautiful seeing her as a mother.

I had to have her. I didn’t care how or why or when but I would. I needed to find out if she was on any birth control. Where the kids father was. Then get her pregnant with my spawn as soon as possible. And keep her that way. I wanted a fucking football team of her babies.

She’d be mine. One way or another.

The next day I get cornered by Kelce over my sudden disappearance all the time. He’s worse than a high school kid over drama. I wish the fucker had a hobby or a life outside of intruding on mine and bumming coke off me. The only reason I keep him around is because of his family ties and he’s handy in a fight. Other than that, I’m not sure where his loyalties lie.

"Dude, you've been distant for weeks. Where the fuck have you been? You never respond in the group chat. You’re never home." Kelce presses, following me down the stairs and into the kitchen. Maybe I could trip him and get away with it.

"Some of us work, Kelce." I snap. Breakfast is laid out on the counter but I don't eat anything. I needed to save my stomach for the diner when I see her but Kelce dives right in like the mooch he is. His plate is piled high as he sits down and I know this is my only chance to leave without being followed. Food and pussy is all he cares about.

"You don't work. It's a chick isn't it? You getting some pussy, Rafe?" Just hearing Kelce talk about her sets my teeth on edge. I'd rather knock his teeth down his throat.

"No, it’s your mom. Now fuck off." Kelce glares at me with his mouth full of food but I ignore him as I turn around and walk out. I was going to have to start driving a different car. One less noticeable because Kelce will no doubt try to find out whatever I'm up to. Ward and Rose are in the Bahamas again so I take her car. No one gives a shit about a plain sedan.

Thirty minutes later, I show up at the diner. The door chimes as I walk in and her head jerks up from across the room to look at me. I smile and she blushes. I take that as a good sign so I sit in my usual spot and wait for her while I glance over the menu that I already have memorized.

I smell her perfume before I see her although my body is so drawn to hers that I can feel her approach. She steps behind the counter and turns in a ticket before grabbing a mug and filling it up, adding my cream and sugar for me before sitting it in front of me with a nervous smile.

"Hi."

"Hi, doll." I sip my awful coffee as her cheeks pink up. Now that she's directly in front of me, I can see the exhaustion written on her face. Her lids are heavy but she maintains a smile. Another customer walks in and I mentally roll my eyes as she scurries off to help them.

When she comes back around to me, I’m fighting the urge to bend her over the fucking counter and bury my cock in her until she cries.

“What’s wrong, Rafe?” She asks, eyes wide and frantic. I must look like an animal right now.

“You need to take a break. Right now.” My voice is barely more than a growl but honestly I don’t care if I’m scaring her. She cocks her head for a moment before locking eyes with another waitress and giving her a nod.

“I’ll meet you out back?” She says, backing away slowly and disappearing through the staff door. I pull the car around back and park so I’m facing away from the building. She gets in, looking incredibly frightened but I don’t have it in me to care as I grasp the back of her neck and smash our lips together.

If she’s startled, she doesnt act like it because her hands immediately tangle in my hair and she’s up on her knees in the seat to get to me. My tongue dominates her mouth just as much as hers does mine. Teeth clank together. Lips are bitten. I’m all but consuming her through her mouth when she finally pulls her lips away, gasping.

Her eyes are watering and those perfect lips quiver like she’s about to cry.

“You came.” She whimpers, tears spilling and stealing the air from my lungs. I’d kill for her.

“Why wouldn’t I? You think a baby would keep me away?” Her eyes narrow for a second at my slip up. She never said it was a baby. Just that she had a kid.

“I saw the base in your car. I just assumed.” I add, seeing her visibly relax so I tuck some stray hairs behind her ear and cup her face.

“Rafe, this is so new. So sudden. I can’t seem to fight it though. I feel so drawn to you. Like you see me when no one else does.” I kiss her again, ready to fuck her for the first time in this car.

“I only have ten more minutes.” She whispers against my lips. I take that as my green light to plunge my hand between her parted thighs and up her skirt. Her panties are soaked. I barely brush over her clit and she’s moaning loudly, bucking her hips.

“When was the last time you were touched?” I growl, tugging her panties to the side and cupping her pussy in my palm.

“When I got pregnant.” She pants, grinding herself against my hand. I growl low and long. I needed to claim her. Mark her. Own her. Impregnate her. But we didn’t have time right now.

“I’m going to fuck you eventually. Long and slow then fast and hard. I’ll make sure you scream and cry my name every single time you cum and you’ll soak my cock and my sheets. No one else gets to touch you or look at you the way I do. You’re mine.” I plunge two fingers inside her and she cums instantly, fisting my shirt in her tiny hands while her face pinches up in ecstasy. It’s my new favorite thing.

“That’s it. My dirty girl. Letting me finger your tight little pussy on break.” She’s not finished her first climax before she’s thrown into another, her cries growing more high pitched until my ears ring.

I love it.

She gushes all over my fingers. Her cheeks are flushed, his lips wet and parted, her eyes squeezed shut in bliss. All from me.

When her eyes finally open, all dazed and droopy, I finally withdraw my fingers and don’t break eye contact as I suck them clean in my mouth. She shudders.

“Can w-we meet again after my shift? I feel like we should talk.” She murmurs, sitting back in her seat as she fights to catch her breath.

“Absolutely. But just so you know, I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted me too. There was no way I could let her go now that I’d tasted her.