#Nina is a Menace

[secretlystephaniebrown]

🌹

If the Joker was an actual Monster with the capital letter, one of the first things Steph was going to do when she got back to Gotham would be to take her brand new Celestial Bronze bo-staff that Beckendorf had made her, and bludgeon him to death.

Stephanie Brown and the Trials of DNA Tests Chapter 3: A Daughter of Aphrodite Explains Condoms

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing

[non-cannon]

What do you think Nina got up to pre-canon that prompted her to learn how to pick locks.

I know it could be something like she saw it on TV or YouTube or read about someone doing it in a book, and thought "that would be cool to learn" but that's the boring answer. I want a better answer

[the-clones-deserve-the-best]

Matthias : Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Nina: AS ENEMIES?!

Matthias : Meeting you was a mistake

Matthias : Did you like the food I made?

Nina: No, not really.

Matthias : But I put my heart and soul into it!

Nina: No wonder it tastes so cold and dead.

Nina: *casually taking four stairs at a time*

Matthias , falling behind, taking two stairs at a time: Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fu-

Nina: I'm gonna get my pilot's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses.

Matthias : The big five licenses?

Nina: Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.

Nina: Everyone knows that Santa is an invention designed by the big five corporations to sell tinsel and video games to an unsuspecting public.

Matthias : The whole “childhood wonder” stage just blew right past you, didn’t it?

Matthias : Hey, are you okay?

Nina: Yeah.

Matthias : You don't look okay...

Nina: Then stop looking.

Matthias : Remember what I told you.

Nina: Don’t be a cunt.

Nina: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Matthias : You’re too young to have enemies.

Nina: You don’t even know.

Matthias : Nina...

Nina: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.

Nina: Two brooooos!

Matthias : Chillin' in a hot tub!

Nina: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay!

Matthias :

Nina:

Matthias : *tearing up*

Nina: Babe, c'mon...

Matthias : AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING.

Nina: Babe...

[angeljas]

(i think nina actually likes being held in a chokehold by subaru)

i love how endearingly annoying nina has become to subaru (and the rest of the girls). love them.

[limmysky]

NINA THE KILLER

Selfie for Jeff

I really like the aesthetic that I did in this drawing but I think I could do it better if i redraw her now

[the-blossica-fan]

Imagine the kids from Rayashki secretly do "tests" to see if Windsong can get with Vila 😭

The kids from Rayashki are their biggest shippers but at the same time the hardest wall to get through. They like Windsong but they like Vila more. Sorry Windsong but you gotta be accepted by them first.

I bet it's Nina who does the plans and the kids go along with it, Nina seems pretty into this. But their "tests" are pretty straight forward, like...

Nina: Miss Windsong, would you still like Vila if she was a worm?

Windsong: ? Uh, what's this about? Di- did Vila turn into a worm? (Whispering) Can a Rusalka do that?

Nina: Answer the question, Miss Windsong!

Windsong: Uh, of course I would! Vila is precious to me, even if she turned into a worm, I would still like Vila.

Nina: (Contemplating seriously while nodding) mhm...

Or the other kids like Pyotr and Pasono asking Windsong about other women to see her reaction.

Pasono: Do you think Angie is pretty, Miss Windsong?

Windsong: ? Who's Angie?

Pasono: The one with the mask! You know who, right Pyotr?

Pyotr: ...Is this necessary? (whispering)

Windsong: there's a lot of people with masks in the foundation, I'm now sure who you're talking to me about...

Pasono: Good!

In the end, it's a constant of weird questions and "tests" to see if Windsong deserves to date Vila. Spoiler alert: This wet rat passed the test with full stars.

[flamingfalcon3]

He’s such a little shit 😭

[jimmy-johns-was-taken]

How I think each of the creeps would do in a pillow war

I don’t believe any context is needed

Jeff the Killer : Actual menace. He swings often and he swings hard. Possibly would put rocks in their pillows. One of the creeps who starts pillow fights.

Ben Drowned : Hit him once and he’s gone. However, he builds forts and has a lot of pillows. Definitely is the kind of person to double wield in a fight. Doesn’t normally start pillow fights, but has occasionally

Eyeless Jack : Doesn’t often appear in pillow fights, however I don’t think I’d want to be in one with him. Have you seen how strong he is? One hit and your out for the night. He never starts them

Ticci Toby : Relentlessly beats someone with pillows. Whichever pillow they can grab, it’s being swung. Does also hide in the fort with Ben, defending the castle well. This fucking menace here will hit anybody with a pillow because why tf not?

Masky / Tim : Like Jack, he doesn’t appear often. However, if he does, he’s targeting Brian. If Brian isn’t present, he’ll just pick someone and bully them, he doesn’t care. Will sometimes start them Brian.

Brian / Hoodie : Often starts them with Tim. He doesn’t swing hard, but swings fast and is quick to recover once he’s been hit. He’s normally the one to start them with Tim, but with others he won’t participate unless provoked.

Jane the Killer : Not super big on pillow fights, but the moment her make-up or outfit is ruined? We’ll start making your tombstone now, she won’t stop until your dead. She never starts them, but she finishes them.

Nina the Killer : For her, it’s like a big sleepover game. They’re playful throughout it all and doesn’t really do damage, but when she wants she can hit harder. Starts some, but our fallen solider never makes it out :(

Sorry I haven’t been posting here, I’m trying to work on fanfics. I have more brewing >:)

Thank you for reading, have a lovely day!

[sometimes-petty]

Wylan: Look, I get it, you're super stressed out and five people are severely injured-

Nina: Twelve people, actually

Kaz: Whatever, what's done is done, and really, who's at fault?

Matthias: You two!

Wylan: That's right- no one.

insp.

[michealdarling]

Haven't posted any art since.. May-ish. I think. Here's a Jeff drawing!!! ^_^

I redesigned him a bit (not much changed) as my old design wasn't my fav :DD

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

Dearest mutuals.

I know I haven't posted a new chapters for a while, but I'm dealing with some personal stuff since November.

I had a ton of midexams, then I had the influensa. My grandmother was diagnosed with cancer so I took care for her with my husband while she is recovering from the threathment. Which is a great thing that she is okay now, but also super tiring both physically and mentally.

My dearest little bunny Comet passed away, and I miss my little pet very much. And to top that my usual Jan-Febr seasonal depression kicked in.

I'm not saying these as an excuse or asking for pity. I just wanted you know that I'm still working on the fic, I have an almost full journal about it.

I know my direction, the whole story all the endings and side plots already figured out. I only need time and some sparkle.

I wrote a few new chapters in January but they seem so soulless, this is definetly not the work I want ton post or be proud of. So anyhow, I just wanted you to know that Star-crossed will have the full story with an ending, and Heavenbound also will be starting in this year hopefully.

I am really hopefull, and excited to post it as soon as I feel the chapters are ready. ✨️💖

Thank you for following and reading my work! 💖💖

[secretlystephaniebrown]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

HMMM okay this is hard

Meet Me Where You're Going - I love this fic okay. It's my baby. Nano nearly killed me, but by god did it WORK. It also got me a tvtropes page, which makes the part of me that's a middle school girl for eternity proud as hell.

she does pretty well with fiends from hell - I poured my heart and soul into this Buffy fic and I met WONDERFUL people via this fic, so like. light of my life and all that.

do I dare disturb the universe? - this fic was just... weirdly soothing to write? I loved exploring a Cass-solo fic, and it was also very cathartic to write a fic genre I'd always loved but never felt like I succeeded in writing; fics where a character is alone in an unfamiliar world, and has to make a new home.

These Twists and Turns of Fate - listen. I think, in hindsight, this is a fic that I could only have written at the time I wrote it. It's a fic that changed me as a writer to write, and it's a fic that represents a lot, not just to me, but to a lot of other people. And I'm so, so found of it.

Zugzwang - listen. this fic is the DEFINITION of self-indulgent. it's brainwashing. It's a winter soldier AU. It's StephCass. It's over the top. But hey, this is self-love, so like. why not love my self-indulgent bullshit?

[sunday-arch]

"you used me as your pillow." lucci for nina 😭

a reaching stretch pops a few spots of tension along her spine, sigh of satisfaction pushing from her lips as she melts back into the sheets. she peers at him through the remnants of a sleepy haze, cheek resting against a silk-encased pillow.

“ mmm ?? is that why you got up so soon? ” a smirk hides behind the upward curve of the pillow against her mouth, amusement dancing in the gunmetal-hued gaze that follows his every move. “ so, i’m to infer that you aren’t much of a cuddler then? ”

nina transitions onto her back, tucking both hands beneath her head. to be anything less than put together before lucci is new and dangerous , and even more dangerous is rolling over like some prey animal. he knows better, but he’s also rob lucci.

@foremyth , meme.

[bumblingbee1]

Hi, BeeBee! So sorry to bother you but could you tell me more about Bryan Fury's backstory? And why he has all those scars on his tits? 👀

*rubs hands together* So basically...

Imma give out almost the entire spiel, all the way from Tekken 3 to 7!

Disclaimers: The Tekken tournament called King Of The Iron Fist Tournament, with the numbers corresponding with the game, that is. Also, there isn't much in the Tekken 7 story that he does, hence why that's shorter than the rest.

Also, here's his Wiki page if you wanna look into it yourself :)

Pre-Tekken:

During his time as a police officer (pre-cyborg), fellow cop Lei Wulong discovered that Fury was a dirty cop with connections to drug dealers as they were investigating the Hong Kong drug trade.

Some time later, Fury got killed in a shootout, explaining the bullet holes and possibly the scarrings. Instead of being buried or cremated or such, his corpse got trasported to and handled by Dr Abel, who resurrected him into a cyborg. Thus beginning his maybem as of Tekken 3.

Tekken 4:

However, Dr Abel did not stick around forever. Sometime between Tekken 3 and Tekken 4, Bryan's body began to break down. He was hoping that his creator would help him, only to find out that Dr Abel abandoned him to the Mishima Zaibatsu.

Tekken 5:

After the King Of The Iron Fist Tournament 4, a good samaritan named Yoshimitsu discovered unconcious Bryan, and helped him escape. Fury got taken to Dr Bosconovitch's lab. Bosconovitch did not only give Bryan a new body, but upgraded him too!!

How does Bryan show his appreciation? Not only by attacking the scientist, but also killing several of Yoshimitu's clan members! Just Fury things 😆😆

With his new upgrade, he aimed to test the full potential of his capabilities. But alas, he got defeated by Yoshimitsu before he could achieve it.

Tekken 6:

Still eager to test out his true capabilities, he wandered around several battlegrounds, but found himself bored, as he didn't find it "challenging enough". Cue the King of Iron Fist Tournament 6, and jumpst at the oppotunity!

I'm sure you've seen the cutscene ending that I sent you, right? 😝

Tekken 7:

He's still causing mayhem and chaos. I love how it's also been said how he has a knack for making enemies, because it's too true 😝😝

[icecoldwilliams]

// How does Nina feel about Anna's birthday now vs. when they were young?

She doesn't remember the actual day a thorn embedded itself into her skin. Not so much as a result of Lethe, but merely a consequence of only being one year old at the time. Too young to recognize let alone recall ones surroundings, even that of the tumultuous Williams manor.

What followed so far as memory served, were fleeting images. Blurry scattered wrapping paper, scarlet and matching the bows tossed aside. So undeserving in her eyes of the received grating fuss thrown in return.. — Even now she could practically hear the brat whining "This isn't the right one!" "This isn't what I wanted!" through the fog. All the more annoying when she'd later get equally upset to find the undesired gifts in dear big sisters hands.

Really... it wasn't her fault that their inattentive parents had tendencies. One to ask for her opinion on what to get the brunette for the "special" day, second to for once overlook the obvious: Interests differ between siblings.

— Nowadays the December evening fortunately lacked the typical fits. Instead pleasant music filled the blondes quarters as she nursed a cup of tea to combat the snowfall outside. No whining, no gifts for years, no spectacle.

Nothing special.

....Admittedly the only downside to the change of pace? Finishing desired collections via gifts is a tad more of a chore. | ✲・*:･ﾟ✲･ﾟ:*  ˚ₓ

[inklore]

PLEASE NINA ANYTHING YOU COMPLIMENT ME ON MAKES ME KICK MY FEET AND SCREAM but to know that you think i wrote this man good???? correct??? i love you i love you!!!

just a taste

premise: meeting luca after work doesn't usually end up with the two of you in an intense lip lock, both of you knowing once you start it's hard to stop. but that's what offices are for, right?

pairing: luca x (f)reader

word count: 3.1k

contents: literally barely any plot here, oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, coming inside, established relationship, doing it at the workplace, teasing, dirty talk, pet names.

note: i know the bare minimum about this man because i’ve never seen the bear but those tattoos, the accent, the hair?? fill me like an eclair is all i have to say ok!

The cool breeze of the night air almost makes you regret not just heading straight home and slipping under the steam of a nice long shower and grabbing the first blanket you see on the sofa and planting yourself there for the rest of the night. Await your boyfriend's arrival under the comfort of cotton and cushion that he’ll surely plop down next to you on after he’s kicked off his shoes. His cold fingers finding you under the blanket to pull you close to his side, a string of kisses pressed along the side of your neck before finding your lips. The smell of yeast and sugar—embedded in his skin at this point—making you bury your nose into his collarbone. 

But this was a ritual for the both of you. 

You finishing your studies and then meeting him after work. 

The two of you walking home together, barely making it through the threshold of your place before lips and clothes were being pressed together and thrown to the floor. Luca’s soft laugh at needing to shower. Thus always leading to your face pressed into the wall of the shower and Luca’s fingers digging into your hips as he thrust inside of you. 

So that nibble of regret doesn’t last long when you come to a stop in front of his work. The makings of anticipation pull at the corner of your mouth as you grab your phone from your bag and start to text him to let him know you’re out front. 

A text that’s barely on the last word when the breeze of the door is hitting you and making you look up, “you can go in. He's in the back.” a co-worker you’ve met a dozen times, but his name slips your mind as you give him an appreciative smile and thank him as you slip through the doors as he walks out. 

You could enter the kitchen a dozen times—a million, a billion—your nose filling with that sweet aroma, Luca bent over a table, a dish, fingers deep in a ball of dough, the monochromatic uniform making his tattoos stand out on his skin like the most beautiful canvas, and you’d never get over the view. 

Over how your insides react when you see him in his element.

See him doing what he loves. 

It’s like the first time every time. 

Just like the first time he dragged you into the kitchen after your tenth date. Showing you his own version of paradise. His love. His joy. The way his face lit up when your eyes brightened when you bit into the scone he had made—saved—for you. The euphoric sweetness a good dessert can do to one's brainstem is still a scientific mystery to you, but you’d gladly leave the research to the experts if you could experience it forever. 

Taste Luca’s creations forever. 

That memory seems like ages ago. Now well into two years of your relationship. 

Nothing seems to fade with Luca. 

Your first times feeling just as tortuous to your fluttering insides as the tenth or twentieth time around. 

It knocks you off kilter in the best way. 

And when you look over at Luca after dropping off your bag and sweater in an open chair, you can not help but laugh when he finally looks up from cleaning off the surfaces of the metal tables and that stone look of him being in chef mode falls from the creases of his face and his features melt into something soft. 

He doesn’t say anything until his arm is around your midsection, drawing you in. “Hi, beautiful.” He smiles as your lips meet in a long kiss. Kissing you as if he hasn’t seen you in days, as if he has spent the entire day waiting for this moment and this moment alone. “How was your day?” 

“Not as good as it is now,” you tease. Hand in the back of his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours. 

The hum that makes your lips buzz and that lands on your tongue as he backs you up so your back is pressed into the doorframe makes anything you could tell him about what happened in your day lackluster. Incomparable. How could you possibly think of anything worthwhile—how could anything be as worthwhile—as his tongue moving along your bottom lip, his hand at the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing a small circle into your skin? 

It couldn’t.

"Let me finish cleaning up," he smirks. Thumb and pointer reaching for your chin, squeezing it, luring you in for one last kiss before returning to cleaning and leaving you dazed in the doorway.  

And if you didn’t know how seriously Luca takes this, from the ritual of making pastries to maintaining a stern, clean kitchen, you would tell him to hurry. Complaining that it is not fair for him to kiss you like that and then make you wait for him to finish, but the payoff was always worth the wait. And you love Luca’s love for his craft. Love him in this element—watching him and seeing him go into that little part of his brain that makes him go into boss mode. 

The stern gentleness of it all. 

It’s breathtaking to watch.

It’s art.

He’s art. 

So that’s what you do. 

You push off the doorframe and enter further into the kitchen just to watch him. 

“How was your day?” You ask while watching him write on the white board in the corner. 

“Good. We got a new guy who came in.” 

“Is he any good?” 

“Better than he thinks he is.” 

“I bet you brought out his best. You always do.” You smile at him when you watch him shrug off the compliment, not missing the twitch of the corner of his mouth. Ever so modest. 

Wordlessly, he puts the cap back on the marker and sets it against the metal of the board, walking over to one of the refrigerators and pulling out a small bowl of something green and white. 

Something that looks too beautifully crafted to eat, let alone eaten by someone who might not fully understand what went into making something so decadent—something that looks like it would be served to someone with a gold card, not someone who eats boxed mac and cheese for dinner twice a week (which Luca always tries to make fancier than Kraft ever could). 

Luca hands you a spoon, “told him the only critic that mattered was sharing a bed with me.” You make a face, the both of you knowing how outlandish that sounds when the food genius himself is standing in front of you. The critic who mattered to a lot of people more than the girl who was sharing his bed. 

But it still brings a smile to your face. 

“Did he think you were utterly insane for such a statement? I think eating greasy takeout two nights in a row is five star dining.”

He chuckles, “you’re the only critic that matters to me.” His palms come down on the edge of the metal table between you as he leans against it. “The only important one at least. Try it.”

The swoop that runs through you from his words, from his eagerness to hear your thoughts on a dessert you do not even know the name of, but know you will appreciate more than anyone else because it came from someone he admires, makes your cheeks heat up. 

And when it touches your tongue, when that euphoric sweetness overcomes your tastebuds, you don’t think the English dictionary could come in handy with describing the taste. The goodness of it. Compliments, which you know Luca and his fellow chefs have heard many times before and then some. But still bring that artist's joy to their chests when your eyes widen and you look at them in something akin to shock. 

The moan you let out makes him grin.

“Good?”

“Is he single?” 

“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” His arms cross over his chest, a playful brow raised.

You take another bite of the dessert, “I think you might want to start looking for another job.”

“And a girlfriend?”

You nod, “with something that tastes this good, I would give him my social security number easily. Oh my god.” You dramatically moan around the spoon, the action doing little to hide the simpering look on your face.

“Here I thought I was the only one who could make you spill such confidential secrets.” Luca strides across the table, coming to stand at your back. His lips pressing against the back of your neck and the top of your shoulder. 

Finding its home where your collarbone meets the junction of your throat, where he lets his warm breath blow against the known sensitivity there, then presses his lips to it. Making your back push into his front, your body melting against him. 

A soft noise lays dormant at the tail end  of your throat, making a ghost of a smirk etch against your skin from his mouth as he murmurs, “and the only one who can make those noises come out of you.”

Your voice is breathy when you say, “so much for being humble.”

"When it’s the truth, I do not need to be humble." His lips trailing to your ear, fingers running up the back of your exposed thighs, pulling up your skirt until they are at the apex of your hip, skating forward and close to your clothed mound. “Am I wrong? Should we see?” 

The spoon in your hand lucky you don’t have superhuman strength because it would be crushed in your grip right now. 

Luca’s fingers splay themselves across your pelvis, toying with the top of your underwear. “Hmm, awfully quiet now. Where’d my mouthy girl go?” An airy chuckle tickles your ear as he lets it out, “humbled are you?” 

There’s a teasing sneer forming on your mouth before it does a 180 and morphs into an ‘o’ as Luca’s fingers push into your underwear, the pad running through the clear as day arousal that’s been making your thighs clench uncomfortably since your kiss in the doorway. 

When the finger moves against your clit there's no covering up the gasps that fall from your lips. Or the way your ass grinds against the erection that’s pressing up against it. 

“Who’s humble now?” He teases. A cheeky grin on his face when he pulls his hand out from your underwear, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking it into his mouth. Making your cheeks heat even more when you turn to look at him. Your teasing turns needy as you give him that look, the one that always makes him drop whatever he is doing and have his body on yours within seconds. 

You both know that making it home now will feel ten times longer. Ten times more agonizing in the cool air with your warming bodies.

With you soaking your underwear and him hard against his zipper. 

So when he says “office”, all you can do is chew on your bottom lip in eagerness as you make a beeline towards it. Luca closer behind you than you expect when you hear the door shut seconds after you’ve entered and his mouth immediately on yours, your ass hoisted onto the nearest surface. 

Luca’s fingers making quick work to pull down your underwear, your skirt bunched at your hips. You fully expect him to pull himself up from his knees after slipping the lace from your ankle and tossing it to the floor. You expect him to come back up and slide inside of you quick and easy, but instead he’s trailing kisses and bites into your thighs. 

Blue eyes look up into yours, and he must see the need in them—that glint that tells him all you want is for him to be inside of you right now. The heady woes of foreplay just torture at this point. 

His teeth sink harder into your flesh, making you gasp. “I’ve worked hard all day; don’t I deserve a treat? A taste of the best dessert out there.” 

And how could you argue with that?

You can’t.

Not when his tongue runs from the bite mark in your skin to your wetness. Spreading you around him as he licks a stripe up your pussy. Your grip on the metal your ass is under hard and tight enough to leave marks against your palm. 

And as crude as it makes you sound, as obscene and cocky as it comes off your lips, you will never hold back from telling Luca that his talent as a chef will never outweigh how good he is with his mouth and cock. 

He’s multi-talented and it’s a blessing and a curse to your insides. 

“Oh, fuck. Luca,” your head hangs between your shoulders. Your fingers in his hair, the heel of your shoe pressed against his back—his apron long gone, leaving him in that navy blue—his fingers digging into the side of your thighs as he keeps you against his mouth. 

The mouth that’s switching between sucking your clit between his lips and rolling his tongue against it. Eating you like you’re the best dessert his tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting. 

It never takes him long to get you there. To make your chest heave and your nerve endings light up, as if they are about to make you panic from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that is completely taking over your body. 

His fingers have created beautiful, mouth watering food, just as they’ve made you completely lose your mind. Your legs shaking around his head. Your back involuntarily bows until it hits the metal surface of the desk you’re perched on. 

It’s when he slips two fingers inside of you that you completely lose it. The sob that pulls itself from your lungs feels red-hot in your throat as your fingers grip the strands of his blonde hair as you come against his mouth. Your hips riding out your high. Rolling against his tongue in a languid way, drawing out the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Your body still reeling and alight with that desire-train that still has it wanting more. That heavy ache between your legs that wants to be filled. To be fucked by something bigger and thicker than a finger.

Your mouth comes down on the tabasco tattoo below Luca’s wrist in a gentle kiss, one of your favorites of his, when his hand comes to cup the back of your head to pull you up to him. 

His thumb runs from your cheek to your chin, where he pushes it up, so you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down at you as he stands between your legs. Your nails run along the tattoos along his arms, up his bicep, and to the nape of his neck. A fire burning in his eyes when your fingers run between the strands back there. 

“Tell me,” he says close to your lips. He’s checking in. Seeing if you’re too spent for his cock, seeing if there's more you want. If you want to wait until you get home. If you’re ready for him now. 

“It’d be cruel to not fuck me now.” You say it in a half-tease-half-serious tone. 

“Ooh,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “I don’t want to be cruel.” You can feel his other hand move between the two of you, undoing the button of his pants and messing with the zipper until he’s pulling himself out of them, hard and leaking. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give my girl what she so desperately needs?” 

Luca smirks when you laugh into his mouth, “the worst kind.”

With one last kiss, lick, and nip at your lower lip, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your thighs shake. Nails dig into his skull as he soaks up your oversensitivity to coat himself before going lower and slipping inside of you in one slow, fluid motion. 

Your mouth hung open at the stretch, and your breath caught in your lungs. Your foreheads resting against each other as you let your walls accommodate his girth, both of your breaths heavy. The pounding you can feel between your legs—that you’re not sure is coming from him or you or something more poetic and overwhelming like your conjoined bodies aching as one, like a heartbeat aches for a chest cavity when it’s torn from a body. 

The two of you need this. 

Need each other. 

When Luca starts moving, you know the two of you are both completely fucked. Spent and so full of desire that you know your time in this office is just the start of a long night of tangled limbs and wet mouths. 

The sounds you are making against each other's mouth are breathy and intoxicating. His tongue in your mouth swallows every mewl and moan he coaxes from your body with each stroke of his cock. 

His fingers find the back of your head again, not allowing you to even think about leaving his mouth. 

You think you see stars when his palm finds the back of your thigh and pulls your leg higher on his hips. Think you could let this man completely consume you, and you’d still never be satisfied. Never get over how good it feels to feel his hips drive deeper into you, to feel the head of his cock hit that spot inside of you that makes his name roll off your tongue like a prayer. 

“Who’s pussy is it, baby?” 

"Mm'fuck," you are not sure if he is still playing the game of you leaving him for the new chef or if his filthy mouth is attempting to completely destroy you—which is nothing new when he has you coating and tightening around his cock like this. 

When you say his name, when you whine it into his mouth like a pathetic desperation, the erotic noise that it’s met with makes you cling to him tighter. Makes you press yourself closer to him. The movement makes the outside of his pants grind against your clit. 

“So beautiful,” Luca murmurs. The octave of his voice grows lower and choppy with heavy breaths the closer he gets. Neither of you lasts much longer when his pace picks up. The grip the two of you have on each other is hard and rough, enough to tear and leave marks that you’ll later kiss with gentle lips, unlike the passion that’s coming through with the hard kisses your mouths are giving as you both come. 

“How’d I get so lucky?” He breathes into your mouth, twisting your insides even more.