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#and give her the courage to go and live her life
alcrox · 3 days
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Did Yu Ziyuan intend to cut off Wei Wuxian's arm?
I have seen this brought up a few times.
There are generally two arguments: yes, she totally intended to do that and only changed her mind when she was told that Lotus Pier would be converted into a "Wen Supervisory Office" AND no, she was just buying time by beating up Wei Wuxian and appeasing Wang Lingjiao.
I think it's a bit of both?
She didn't (and wouldn't) hesitate to beat up Wei Wuxian. This is the first scene we see her physically abuse Wei Wuxian (before this we only hear her verbally abuse... well, everyone) but it is made very clear that Wei Wuxian is quite used to this sort of treatment. Cutting off an arm, however, is very different. It would maim WWX for life. It isn't something that, even WWX with his strong golden core, would be able to just heal from easily. He would have to find a whole new way to get around his disability.
It's not as if YZY would hesitate to cut off WWX's arm from a place of concern or affection. Hell no. She is extremely sharp and intelligent, though. She has seen WWX grow up, she has seen his talents first-hand. She knows just how much of an asset WWX is to the Yunmeng Jiang. And she knew that this day was coming. The day when the Qishan Wen came to her doorstep and tried to take over Lotus Pier. She might blame WWX for it (because she too, like Wen Chao, just needs an excuse to blame WWX, though hers comes from a place of being blinded by hatred rather than planning a seize) but she is well aware that one way or another, this was happening. That much was clear in episode 11 when she is spitting mad that Jiang Cheng has to go to the Wen Indoctrination Camp. She knows what the Wens are doing and she is not surprised when the final showdown finally happens.
So, it's a bit of both. She was buying time, but she was also, maybe, hoping that punishing WWX in front of WLJ would be enough. When WLJ mentions cutting off WWX'S right arm, however, she visibly hesitates. (Or rather, considers.) She knows what cutting off WWX's arm means; it means to rid her Clan of a powerful asset. WWX may still be able to fight with his left arm (as he has clearly made up his mind to do so) but right after his arm is cut off, he would be of no use in a fight. And YZY already knows from that point onwards, there are only two options. One, she and JC and WWX and the Jiang army fight off the Wens and risk losing their lives, including the heir Jiang Cheng. Two, the option which she ends up choosing, she fights to death, defending her home from the Wens while JC escapes with WWX. In both options, WWX's survival and skills are crucial. She knows JC's best chance of making it through all of this is keeping WWX alive and indebted. She cannot cut off his arm yet. Not when WWX, in her eyes, hasn't paid off his debt yet. Not when she knows, despite her hatred, that WWX can be counted on for his courage and loyalty and incredible skills to keep JC safe.
She orders the doors to be shut, which is absolutely meant to be interpreted as acquiescence to cut off WWX's arm. She is clever. She buys them as much time as possible, possibly also gives WWX a while to recover from being whipped so brutally by Zidian. And it also serves the purpose of keeping the Wens inside so that they can't go and alert Wen Chao and bring an even bigger army back to Lotus Pier. She knows shit's about to hit the fan so she doesn't reveal what she plans to do until the last possible moment when does.
And then WLJ utters "Wen Supervisory Office" and YZY knows it's time. That the gig is up.
If the order was to whip WWX with Zidian for a while longer, YZY may have complied. She knows exactly how strong WWX is and how much he can withstand without, like, dying or something. But the price WLJ asked for was too high (and probably calculated on WLJ's part as well; she too must know what a skilled fighter WWX is and how to sever the Yunmeng Jiang from one of its most powerful weapons. She saw WWX in action, after all, in the Xuanwu cave). So YZY stopped complying and began strategizing. How to save her home. How to keep the Clan alive. How to preserve her assets.
She didn't keep WWX alive and safe (well, safe is questionable, she did beat the shit out of him) out of goodwill. She kept him alive and safe out of necessity.
Side note, this shot:
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This shot helped reinforce my theory. YZY despises WWX, that much is not a secret. Everyone knows it. Everyone in this very scene knows it. Yet when the Wens, headed by WLJ, first arrive at Lotus Pier, this shot makes a pretty firm statement of they are united against a common enemy. YZY is many things, but she is not stupid. She knows what the real problem here is. And she is standing with her entire Jiang army, including WWX, against said problem.
I despise YZY as a mother but damn if she isn't an interesting character.
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guplia · 2 days
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Hello anon! First of all, thanks for the ask! (asks? idk I received three anon asks at almost the same time, it would be weird if they didn't all come from the same person lol)
fix recommendations? read mine /hj Sure! Just note that while I've enjoyed a lot of wips, I'm only gonna recommend completed fics rn.
Okay! Here's all I can remember rn:
"Clouds" by youngmoInactive (fanfiction.net):
Original summary:
"Even though he's a hero, he's still a human. CONTAINS CHARACTER DEATH. A nice look into Kai's perspective as he watches a close friend slowly lose a fight for his life."
Okay all I've gotta say on this one is that IT MADE ME CRY. OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Obviously I can't speak for everyone who read this fic but I think this will hurt Lloyd lovers. I have re-read it so many times to the point where I have half the fic memorised word-by-word. This is a must-read.
(if you're on the phone it's better to add "m." To the start of the URL)
"a day in the life of a fatherless child" by holographicknife (Archive of Our Own):
Original summary:
"lloyd has a panic attack *confetti* title suggested by my friend lol loosely based on a crack rp between friend and i   Warning for: mentions of suicidal thoughts and medication, explicit descriptions of a panic attack, including tight chest, difficulty breathing, nausea, and headaches. Proceed with caution."
This is a Kai And Lloyd fic, and I love Kai And Lloyd fics! Specifically ones where they address Lloyd's trauma from Morro and where Kai comforts him. So if anyone's into this sort of stuff I'd recommend it!
"A Courageous Escape" by Lilac_Lily234 (Archive of Our Own):
Original summary:
"In the midst of possession Morro hatred flows freely as he seeks to make Lloyd suffer for taking what he believes as his rightful title, but his cruelty know no bounds; Lloyd however refuses to give up but knows that time is running out, and in his desperation will find either salvation, or death.  - I don't own Ninjago, this is an au"
Ahem... once again, Lloyd goes through pain. A season 5 canon-divergent AU, from which my favourite part was... you guessed it! Lloyd having a panic attack and being comforted! But it's still a cool story besides too, season 5 being one of the best seasons imo.
While this fic is finished, the AU is not but I think this one has a good ending on its own.
"Out for revenge" by lloyd_slander (Archive of Our Own):
Original summary:
"Harumi’s plan to resurrect Lord Garmadon failed, during her time in Kryptarium prison she heard about Morro, the master of wind, and guy who had managed to make Lloyd’s life a living hell. Wanting revenge, she doesn’t stop from anything, not even from getting Morro back from the dead. Or The duo we always wanted, but never got. Lloyd is in for a hard time. Head the tags, guys!"
Okay. This one is rated Mature for drug usage and blood (there was nothing sexual though)
So it's a Morro traumatising Lloyd fic again, but this time he's with Harumi! So it's double trouble for Lloyd! (things go VERY BAD for him >:3)
Honestly I can't say much except read the fic, the summary's right there lol.
"Revealed" by Nation_Ustria (Archive of Our Own):
Original summary:
"Lloyd Garmadon is used to being hated. That's just how his life works—if someone knows that he's the son of the warlord who attacks Ninjago City on a weekly basis, they hate his guts. That's why he's made sure that his team—the only people he's ever been happy with—don't know who he is behind the mask, with the small price attached that he doesn't know their identities, either. It's not like they know each other's, anyways, so it's not a big deal. But then they find out. The fact that Lloyd's elemental power makes him an empath doesn't help, either. Basically the premise of the movie pre-reveal with show elements and personalities, and Lloyd's Green Power is him being able to sense and be influenced by the emotions of those around him."
Okay so here's a fic without Morro! (that's cause it's in the movie-verse) Another type of fanfic I like reading is where Lloyd in tlnm keeps his identity secret from the other ninja and it ends up getting revealed (like this one.).
I've seen this fic being recommended more than once and it's one of the fics with the most kudos in the entire fandom on AO3! So 2000 others agree with me on how awesome this fic is!!!
"What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger" by @crystaleclipse10 (CrystalEclipse on Archive of Our Own)
Original summary:
"Lloyd batted Red's hand away. “’m fine.” His head pounded, but at least it was quiet and dark. His hair tickled his nose. “What happened?” “We…didn’t get out in time,” Red whispered. “The missile exploded. We got everyone else out, though.” Lloyd relaxed and slumped forward as pure relief washed over him. They’d done it. They’d beaten Garmadon’s game. They’d freed the civilians and survived. Didn’t feel great, though. ~OR~ Lloyd and Kai get trapped under a building when it collapses, both injured. Angst and bonding ensue."
So it's another tlnm au fic! And this one has Kai And Lloyd bonding specific so I like it!!!
As I was reading this when it was still being updated I was very excited every time a new chapter would come out and my heart hurt for Lloyd each time! It IS worth the read! Just note that while tis fic is completed, the au is not.
"Officer Smith, Do You Copy?" by @hijabiwriter (same username on Archive of Our Own):
Original summary:
"Everyone has their reasons for becoming a police officer. Maybe they were forced. Maybe the profession stood out to them. Maybe they had some experience that prompted the idea of becoming a police officer. But that's only a few reasons. There are others, too. Like for instance, one of these officers is out for revenge."
This fic is entered around Nya, who's a police officer alongside Jay, Cole and Lloyd (for some reason Zane is not in this au/fic). Anyways her dark secrets are explored in every other chapter alongside the progressing story, and of course, an explanation is given to everything in the end.
On a personal note this is the fic where I left my first comment on my Ao3 account lol (the historic moment is on chapter 13!!!)
"Too Late to Say Goodbye" by @greenamethyst16 (same username on Archive of Our Own)
Original summary:
"Kai gets stabbed and Lloyd helps him... :D"
I think length-wise this is the shortest fic on the list but that doesn't make it bad!!! Basically Lloyd downplays his injuries and there are consequences... :D
"All the ways I say "I love you"" by @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off (Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 on Archive of Our Own)
Original summary:
"Cole loves his team. They're his family and he does everything in his power to keep them safe and steady. He does his best to let them know he cares about them in every way but one.  Or  Seven times Cole couldn't quite say "I love you," and the one time he could."
Note: This story can only be read if you're logged in on AO3.
I like this fic because it encouraged me to remind my own irl friends how much they mean to me. In this story Cole believes that he's "the rock" of the team, and hence he doesn't show his emotions much. He's never told even one of them that he loves them and thinks that they deserve better than him. So stuff happens after that :D
Okay, I've read a lot more than this but this is all I'm gonna write about now cause I'm tired and I think this post has became too long. But if you wanna read more just check out the profiles of the writers! I haven't read everything myself but most of them have other good Ninjago fics to read!
If I've tagged you or mentioned your fic and you want it removed just let me know! I have no problem with removing it! :D
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cherry-treelane · 1 year
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v took this picture because i said so <3 she's such a cutie
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so many of the transfems i know spent their time pre-transition performing a kind of lifelong exercise in self-deprivation, the goal of which was to find out exactly how little a person needed to live. they starved themselves, dressed carelessly, shunned friends, and hollowed themselves out so as not to be burdens on anyone but themselves.
i see it now, too, in the girls around me. i'll ask if they want care – a home-cooked meal, relaxed company, sex without the expectation of reciprocation – and they say no, no, thank you, i don't need it; what would you like, what do you want, because in their head they're still doing that awful calculus, still training themselves to disappear in the eyes of the people around them.
i don't think i'd have died without transition – not in the conventional sense, at least – but to take that leap, i had to stop thinking of myself as a human experiment in fuel-efficient living and start nurturing the anemic, atrophied flame of desire in my heart. i had to learn to eat well, to exercise, to style myself beautiful, but harder than that, i had to learn to ask the people around me to work on my behalf in order to enrich my life and give me the things i wanted.
and i did it; i learned. and it was agony, but courage is a muscle you can train, and every day i get better at accepting gifts with the hungry gratitude i never learned in my years and years as a sad, scared, lonely boy.
so be patient with the trans girls in your life. better than that: be proactive, attentive, generous; be forceful, if you have to, and learn to distinguish real discomfort from the terrified reflex of self-denial that so many of us once learned to rely on.
and if you are so lucky as to love a trans girl, you must insist upon her. you must insist upon her happiness, her comfort, her pleasure, and her rest, because she may still not yet know how to make those demands for herself. if you can devote any amount of energy to becoming an engine that nurtures the flame of even a single tgirl then there is a place for you in trans heaven, which as far as i'm concerned is the only one worth going to
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neil-gaiman · 10 months
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I hope this finds you well. Today is the 10th anniversary of my sister's death. She died unexpectedly when she was 20, and I was 13. My sister was so full of energy and compassion for others. She befriended probably well over a hundred people, and knew each of them by name. She taught me something that I think is demonstrated really well in Coraline (and reading it reminded me of her)--that courage is not fearlessness, but it's being afraid and standing up to that fear regardless. Off and on since she died (though more on than off in the past 5ish years), I've struggled with depression and a feeling of pointlessness in my life. The realization that someone that vibrant can suddenly vanish off the Earth has never left me. And I don't shine nearly as bright as she did. It feels like no matter what I do, I'll never leave a significant impact. I've had a lot of difficulty with college, and I'm on my second leave of absence since starting my undergraduate studies. I don't really have any career goals and have had trouble finding a career path that would be interesting and fulfilling enough to me to feel like I could stick with it long enough to make a living. But I've been doing everything I can to keep going and keep trying to get to a more stable place emotionally. To finally find my footing. Every night before I turn in I like to look at your posts on here. I find the words and advice you give to others very comforting. So, I'd first like to thank you for sharing your kindness and humor with everyone. And I'd also like to ask if you'd have any kind words or advice for me. Thanks for your time.
The main thing you should probably remember is that from the inside your sister didn't realise how bright and sparkling and energetic and compassionate she was either. We know ourselves from the inside, see only too well our pain and clumsiness, our depressions and our failures.
She was a light for you. You'd be surprised to find that you are a light for others. You shine. (Whoever you are reading this, I promise you this: you shine, and you will leave your own impact on the world.)
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likeumeanit9497 · 25 days
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you jealous? | c.s. & m.s. |
chris sturniolo x reader x matt sturniolo
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summary: y/n's secret fwb, chris, teaches her a lesson on sharing.
warnings: SMUTTTT; unprotected p in v; fingering; handjob; oral (f receiving); dirty talk; lowk toxic chris (srry); 2 boys 1 night ;); 18+
notes: hiiii guys!! sooooo i know i have been painfully inactive AGAIN over the past few weeks BUT I CAN EXPLAIN!!! so yes i got back from my trip at the start of aug, but i made a super stupid last minute decision to go back to college this fall, so i had to do all my applications, find a new place to live in a new city, AND move out of my old place all since i've been back. sooo i've been a bit busy hence why i haven't been able to write or post anything since the start of the month. BUT to make it up to u all i decided to write a fic for both the matt and chris girlies teehee. side note this is probably the closest i will ever get to a chris x matt x reader threesome okay i can't handle much more than this before it starts feeling weird af, BUT i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (can u tell the duo streams are making it hard for me to pick one straight triplet to thirst over for the week?? hope someone relates) love u all and can't wait to write some more nasty shit <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
As I walked through the front door at the party, I really didn’t know what to expect. Sure, the flashing lights, loud rap music, and the sinus-burning waft of alcohol that flooded my senses as soon as I opened the door were a given, but there was so much uncertainty in my life that the night was feeling almost surreal.
“There she is!” I heard Nick’s bellowing voice through the sea of people as I walked up the front steps and entered the living room. Nick was my best friend, and had been since him and his brothers moved to Los Angeles, and he had decided to throw a ‘small’ party for me when I told him that I got a promotion at my job. Nervous to have so much attention on me at once, I smiled sheepishly as he ran over to me with a bottle of tequila in his hand.
After squeezing me so hard that I thought my ribs might break, he waved the half-empty bottle in my face. “You look sober. You can’t be sober at your own party! Let’s go take some shots.” By his rushed speech and disheveled appearance, I could tell that he had been drinking for a while prior to my arrival. And he was right, I was sober, and with the number of eyes on me and unrecognizable people circling me, I knew I had to gain some liquid courage quick.
“I thought you said this was just going to be a small get together Nick, what happened?” I asked quietly as we reached the kitchen. He grabbed us two shot glasses from the stack sitting on the counter, and rushed to the fridge to grab me a High Noon before pouring the tequila. “It’s LA, Y/n, this is a small get together. And besides,” He handed me an overflowing shot glass, “Everyone loves you. Now hurry up and cheers me.” Rolling my eyes, I obliged; lifting my glass in the air and clinking it gently against his before bringing it to my lips and tilting my head back.
The first shot is always the worst, and this one was no exception. I felt the burn as it traveled down my throat and into my stomach, and I winced before finally giving in and chasing with the High Noon that Nick had grabbed for me. “Wooo!” Shouted Nick before pouring more tequila into our glasses. “Hold on, what are you doing?” I tried to protest by covering the top of my shot glass with my hand. Without hesitation, Nick swatted my hand away. “You need another silly. Everyone here has been drinking for hours.” Grumbling under my breath, I let him pour another one, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the person I was most anxious to see would make an appearance.
As if he had sensed my nerves, it was just then, as I was bringing my second shot to my lips, that I saw him walking up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hurriedly took my shot before chugging half of my drink at once in an attempt to calm my mind. I still had my drink at my lips when he noticed me; his droopy blue eyes scanning the room before they landed on mine. He smirked, soft pink lips curled up in a taunting manner, before waltzing over to where Nick and I were standing.
“Hey there.” He chirped, leaning against the counter just inches away from me. “Hey Chris.” I replied, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible as I felt his gaze burn into me. “When did you get in?” He asked as I continued to avoid eye contact. I took a sip of my drink. “Just a few minutes ago.” There was a silence between the three of us; the awkwardness so intense that I felt like I could explode. “Okayyyy, I’m gonna go say hi to a few people.” Nick stated before quickly rushing off to the living room, leaving me alone with Chris.
“So,” Began Chris, “Long time no see.” I felt him take a step closer to me before running his hand lightly across the small of my back. Reacting to his touch, I inhaled a sharp breath and my eyes shot to his. “Very funny.” I responded, my voice a low whisper as if anyone could hear our conversation above the loud music and steady chatter in the room. He chuckled, still rubbing my back discreetly. “I thought so.”
It had actually been less than 24 hours since I had seen Chris. Just the night before, my wrists had been tied to his headboard while my legs were wrapped around his waist. A few weeks ago, after a night at the bar with Nick, Chris and I had had rushed, sloppy sex on their living room couch when Matt and Nick were asleep. Since then, him and I had fucked at least a dozen more times without telling a soul. I couldn’t bear the thought of my best friend finding out that I was sleeping with his brother, and Chris couldn’t stand the thought of anyone knowing anything about his personal life. Plus, there was something so sexy about our little secret; and I worried that if anyone found out about what we had been doing, the adrenaline that flooded my veins every time he looked at me with that knowing gaze, or touched me covertly, would disappear.
Over the past few weeks, there had been moments when our secret was almost revealed. Like the one time, when I was changing in Nick’s room, when he saw the dark blue hickeys all across my chest and stomach. Or another time, when I rolled up my sleeves to wash my hands in the kitchen and Matt asked me about the marks on my wrists. Both times, I froze; but both times I was able to come up with little white lies on the spot. I had made up a fictional man — one that lived in another city and they certainly didn’t know — that I had been seeing, and after sharing perhaps too many explicit details, they had both believed me.
Other than that, there had been no other times where people seemed to have any inclination of what Chris and I had been doing — most likely because we hadn’t been around others since we started hooking up. Tonight was the first time that we were going to be drinking with a big group of people, hence why I had been so anxious about how the night might go.
“You wanna go downstairs?” Chris’ voice in my ear pulled me from my thoughts, and I felt that familiar jump in my stomach from the thought of being alone with him right now. However, I was still sober enough to remember that we had to be careful, so I took a moment and glanced around the room. Everyone seemed pretty drunk, but the night was still young, and it was too risky yet. So, I shook my head softly. “We can’t yet, let’s wait for it to get later.” I was whispering just like he had been, and I felt his hand move from my lower back down to my ass, where he cupped it and gave it a generous squeeze. “Got it.” He replied, before snaking off and leaving me alone in our corner of the kitchen. Sighing, I reached for the bottle of tequila that Nick left behind; pouring myself yet another shot. Tonight was gonna be a long night.
𓆩♡𓆪
After a few more shots and a couple High Noons, I was drunk. Unfortunately, it had done nothing to ease my nerves, because I had spent the past hour or so watching Chris get progressively closer to another girl. As I leaned against the kitchen table attempting to keep up a conversation with Matt, I watched as he went from innocently chatting with her, to draping his arm across the back of the couch where she was sitting, to him now; pulling her onto his lap as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.
I tried to act as unbothered as possible, but it wasn’t easy. It’s not like I had any romantic feelings for Chris — him and I had both made it abundantly clear that it was just sex — but I couldn’t help but see red as I watched her run her hands through his messy curls as she rolled her hips on his lap. It was just that the sex that him and I were having was so good, I selfishly didn’t want anyone else to get it from him.
Groaning under my breath, I made an excuse and snuck away from Matt before walking to the fridge to grab one more drink. As I was rummaging through the fridge’s contents, I felt a warm hand brush against my bare leg. “You ready to sneak away now?” His words were hushed just like before, but I couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be serious.” I replied before closing the fridge and cracking open my drink. Now facing him, I noticed he had a confused expression across his face.
“What happened? Did that girl on the couch give you blue balls?” Even as I spoke, I recognized how stupid and bitter I sounded. A slight twinkle formed in Chris’ eyes, causing me to grow even more angry. “What are you talking about Y/n?” He asked, a small smile crossing his lips. I rolled my eyes, growing increasingly more angry. “The girl who’s tongue was just down your throat. What happened to her?” I asked, noticing how drunk I was sounding. Chris stared at me for a moment, before tilting his head slightly to the side. “You jealous?” He asked, and in that moment I wanted to smack him.
“Of course not,” I said, walking in the direction of Matt’s washroom in an attempt to escape this increasingly uncomfortable conversation, “But you’re crazy if you think you’re gonna come to me only when plan A fails.” Trying the door, I realized that the washroom was locked and I groaned. Chris had followed me down the hall, and now he had me cornered. Just as I was about to turn around and get past him back to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into Matt’s room.
“What are you doing?” I exclaimed in a harsh whisper as my sense of sight was almost completely removed by the pitch-black darkness of the room. I heard the door slam shut behind me, but when I turned around, I could just barely see the outline of Chris’ frame standing just inches from me. Just then, I heard a low chuckle come from his direction. “I can’t believe my Y/n is jealous.” He said, taking a few more steps in my direction before grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him.
“You know that you’re my favourite girl baby,” He started, bringing a hand to my throat and squeezing gently. My head was tilted up, and in the poor lighting the only thing I could make out were his bright blue eyes reflecting my own nervous expression. “But you’ve gotta learn how to share.” Before I could even roll my eyes at his statement, I felt his warm thumb press against my lower lip; urging it open. With hitched breaths, I obliged; parting my lips and opening my mouth slightly.
With his hold on my neck, he tilted my head back even further and I felt, more than saw, his lips just centimetres from mine. Then, without warning, he spit a pool of his saliva into my mouth with expert precision, and at that moment all of my walls caved in. “Now be a good girl for me and get on Matt’s bed.”
With red hot arousal already coursing through me, I didn’t hesitate before rushing over to the unmade bed in the centre of the room. The sound of my racing heart in my ears and the rush of excitement that I was feeling was enough of a distraction from the fact that I was draping my body along a bed that didn’t belong to either Chris or I. The fact that almost anyone could walk in at any moment, and the view that I had once I faced Chris, was enough to cause my head to spin.
There, just in front of me, was a now-shirtless Chris. From my position on the bed, he was looming over me; and the smirk plastered to his face was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. My needy eyes trailed slowly down his body, first his chest; down to his stomach; then his waistband — wait, what’s that shiny thing in his hand?
As if he heard my thoughts, Chris dangled the object teasingly, allowing me to realize what it was — the silver handcuffs from his room. “Were you just carrying those around all night?” I asked, locking my eyes back on his. He shrugged. “Didn’t know when I was finally gonna be able to use them.” I rolled my eyes, but as I opened my mouth to deliver a snarky reply, I was abruptly cut off by his lips on mine.
Hungry, drunk lips moulded to mine — they tasted like him. All of my annoyance with him dissolved within an instant as he wasted no time in peeling my clothing from my body; only breaking the kiss for a moment as he pulled my shirt over my head in the space between us. Immediately, his hands flew to my lower half where he simply lifted my skirt to give himself access to his favourite part of my body.
He squeezed my ass so hard that it hurt in that deliciously erotic way. Pulling me onto his lap, I felt his growing member press against my aching core as he continued to massage my ass like it was a life source that he had been deprived of for years. Low moans passed through his lips as he indulged, and I felt my body begin to tremble in painful anticipation. “Chris.” I whined before subtly grinding my core against the part of him that I needed most in that moment. I felt his lips turn up into a smile. “What’s wrong Y/n?” His voice was playful but rough from arousal, “I could’ve fucked you hours ago, remember? Then you wouldn’t be so painfully worked up.” I groaned again, not caring how desperate I felt as I dragged my soaked core up and down his clothed shaft for the second time.
Chris used his harsh grip on my ass to lift me off of him, causing me to release a frustrated sigh from the lack of contact. That quickly changed once he slid my panties to the side and used his fingers to gingerly graze my aching centre. I released a soft hiss as his fingers reached my swollen clit; hoping more than anything that he would spend extra time there. He chuckled at my noises, but any care I might have had over that dissipated as his fingers drew rapid circles on my bundle of nerves.
Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, I had to bite hard on his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out profanities from the immediate pleasure that I felt circulating in my body just from his touch. “You know, Y/n,” Chris began, his words coming out choppy from his quick movements, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were turned on watching me with that other girl.” I stayed silent, feeling tears well up in my eyes in the same way that my orgasm was welling up in my lower stomach. With all the strength I had, I managed to shake my head weakly in response to Chris’ words; causing him to chuckle.
“You might not think so, in your mind, but your pussy is telling me something different.” Just then, two of his long fingers slipped effortlessly inside of me. Unable to hold back now, I released a sharp scream into his bruised shoulder. His fingers began moving in and out of me slowly, curling right up to my g-spot each time. “Oh yeah,” His fingers began picking up speed; filling the room with the sounds of my arousal, “You hear that? You’re pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, it’s giving away your deep dark secrets.”
Moans now fell from my lips carelessly as his actions and words brought me closer and closer to an earth shattering orgasm. Maybe he was right, maybe there was a part of me that loved the thought of him being with another girl. Maybe I liked the idea of watching from the sidelines as he touched, kissed, or even fucked other girls.
Or maybe I just loved the idea that, no matter how many other girls he’s with, he will never find a better fuck than me.
That was the last thought I had before my mind was overtaken by the tidal wave of my orgasm. Arching my back in pleasure, I moaned out profanities as Chris’ fingers worked my pulsing core. I felt my legs shake as the relentless euphoria tore through my body, until Chris quickly removed his fingers from my core, lifted me up off of his lap, and bent me over the side of the bed all in one motion.
The cool air against my soaked and exposed core caused me to gasp, but still I waited exactly where he placed me with trembling limbs as I anticipated his next move. The sharp sound of a zipper filled the dark room, and after a moment I felt the heat from Chris’ member press against my wetness. Immediately and without thinking, I began rolling my hips in a weak attempt at relieving the unyielding want deep inside of me, but a firm hand on my hip promptly stopped all movements. “Wait one minute, Y/n.” Chris said, and I heard the sound of metal clanking together before the ice cold handcuffs were placed around my wrists.
I felt my stomach do a flip just like it always did when Chris tied me up in any way that he could, and once he was content with their placement, he gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands as he used his other to line his shaft up with my opening. I felt his tip slide up and down my slick folds a handful of times, causing an anticipatory shiver to crawl up my spine, before the indescribable satisfaction of feeling his length stretch my walls caused me to sigh in relief. That satisfaction was quickly replaced by gritty need as Chris began slamming his cock deep into me at a relentless pace. His hand tightened around my wrist as he gained momentum, causing the harsh metal of the handcuffs to dig into my skin; increasing the pleasure that I was feeling.
The room was filled with the sounds of my ass slapping against his front, and I knew even without him saying anything that the view he had was driving him crazy. Just as expected, his hand dropped a sharp smack to my left ass cheek before gripping onto it ruthlessly. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me baby.” Chris’ voice was already deep and guttural, and I could tell that he wasn’t gonna last very long. Moaning in response, I bit onto the comforter beneath me to muffle the sound as I relished in the feeling of his cock hitting just the right spot on each harsh thrust.
“This is what you needed, huh? I knew by your attitude you were dyin’ for it.” His filthy talk was enough to send me another strong wave of vertigo, and I felt my restrained hands desperately try to grab onto him in any way so that I could stabilize myself. “You know this cock is yours,” Chris continued, both his movements and his voice now growing choppier, “But just because something is yours doesn’t mean you can’t share.” I felt my body begin to tense up, goosebumps raised on my skin as I felt my pleasure begin to boil over.
“Fuck, gonna cum baby.” Chris’ words were rushed, and as he spoke them he quickly pulled his swollen length out of my wincing core. After a few pumps in his hand, I felt his warm fluid shoot onto my back and collect in a small pool. As he came down from his high, I heard small grunts leave his mouth and I wanted nothing more than to use my own restrained hands to milk him dry. After a few moments of silence, both of us simply catching our breaths, Chris spoke. “Sorry, Y/n, I didn’t expect to cum so fast.” He massaged my ass with his hands as he spoke.
“It’s okay.” I replied, though the screaming need in between my legs was saying otherwise. “Get up on the bed and arch that back, I’ll get you there.” His words caused my body to quiver once again. Just as I was about to do as he told me, the shocking sound of a door opening caused me to freeze in place like a deer in headlights.
“Chris who the fuck are you talking to in my ro-”
The familiar voice filled the room and deafening silence immediately followed. Chris’ hands were still on my waist, and I felt my skin grow hot in embarrassment. In the heat of everything that had happened over the past little while, I had forgotten who’s room we were in. But now, that person’s voice pulled me back to reality, and I was reminded of the fact that my naked body had been pressed against his bed as I was fucked senseless by his brother.
Still, no one was speaking. My face was buried in the comforter, where I planned on keeping it in order to avoid facing the situation I found myself in. The silence felt like a fifty pound weight pressing against my bare back, and I prayed to the universe that someone was going to speak. Just then, I felt Chris shift behind me; placing a hand on the back of my neck and leaning towards my ear.
“I know how to share what’s mine. Watch this.”
His words sent chills down my spine, and that chill was exemplified once I felt the heat of his body move away from me. Through the pounding anxiety in my head, I was able to hear a few footsteps followed by an entire conversation performed in well-executed whispers. Chris and Matt spoke in hushed tones for what felt like hours as I continued to stay in the place that Chris had left me; my heart racing and breath heaving at the thought of what they might be talking about. Chris’ last statement was ominous, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher what he meant: he wanted to share me with Matt.
As they spoke to one another, I went over the idea of it in my head. It was wrong, for sure. I was already fucking one of my best friends’ brothers, but to fuck both of them in one night was too far. Plus, I had never had any interest in Matt before. Him and I were friends, sure, but not once had I considered doing anything more with him. Because I was already fucking his brother, and his other brother is my best friend. It was wrong, end of story.
But then why did I feel a new trickle of my own arousal fall down my leg at the thought of Matt’s eyes glued to my naked body right now?
I’m fucked.
“You okay, Y/n?” I heard Chris’ voice and it pulled me out of my trance. I knew what he meant by that. “Yes.” I replied, wincing at the desperation laced through my tone. A chuckle came in response, then the sound of the door opening — bringing with it bright lights and an increase in clarity of the constant party chatter — before it clicked shut; and then, silence.
I could hear nothing around me but my own heavy breathing, and if I didn’t know any better I would genuinely believe that I was alone in the room at last. But I did know better, because I could feel his tired blue eyes on my body. I still hadn’t moved, couldn’t move. My face was still buried deep in his comforter and I was too afraid to face him yet. My legs felt like jello, and I knew that if I wasn’t already bent over his bed, I would have collapsed by now.
Finally, I hear footsteps. They were slow, and I couldn’t tell which direction they were going, but he was finally moving. Next I heard the shuffling sound of some sort of fabric, then more footsteps. This time, I was sure they were heading for me. I was proven right when I felt the heat of his body behind me. Suddenly, I released a sharp gasp when I felt the soft material of a towel against my lower back. Matt wiped the pool of his brother’s cum off of my lower back in silence, and even the accidental brush of his knuckles against my clammy skin set me on fire.
“So, this was what those marks on your wrists were from.” He finally spoke, and his voice in this setting was so unfamiliar that I physically jumped. In my silence, he assumed I didn’t understand what he meant, so I felt him tap lightly on the metal around my wrists. “The handcuffs.” He clarified even further. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, trying to sound confident, “Yeah.” At that, I felt his hands travel around the perimeter of the cuffs, trying to find something, when suddenly I heard a faint click and my wrists were free.
Taking the cuffs completely off of me, he rubbed my aching wrists gently with both hands. Even this touch, one seemingly so innocent and caring, shot waves of pleasure to my core. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” His words grounded me for just a moment; reminding me that this is in fact real life, yet still I responded with zero hesitation. “I’m sure.”
Again, silence. But this time, it was accompanied by the remarkable feeling of Matt’s gentle fingers trailing down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “Turn around for me.” His voice had dropped an octave since he last spoke, and while it was still far from threatening, it was no longer the comforting tone he had used as he took my cuffs off.
The shame I had previously felt from the situation had been stripped off of me by his touch, so I barely hesitated before lifting my head off of the bed and turning my body so that I was now facing him. In the dark, the outline of his body looked nearly identical to his brother, but I was able to easily tell the difference. My body didn’t react in excited fear when I saw his frame, but instead it responded in anticipatory comfort; as if I knew I had nothing to be nervous about.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, I watched his chest rise and fall in silence for a moment. Unable to really see his eyes, I was unsure what he was looking at, but I knew he was looking at me. Just then, I watched as he climbed onto his bed, meeting me where I was. He leaned so close to me that I had to allow my head to fall back against the comforter. Now laying on top of me, using one arm to brace his weight, I suddenly felt the lust seeping out of his veins just before his lips attached to mine.
His lips were slightly softer, and slightly fuller than Chris’, and they moved with just the slightest bit more apprehension for a moment. That quickly dissipated, however, as after just a few short moments I felt his tongue run against my lower lip; begging for access to my mouth. I obliged, and relished in the new and exciting taste of him. His lips were cold — the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his skin told me that was because he had just been outside — and they felt amazing against my own hot, swollen lips. As I felt one of his hands snake up to my chest, I released a soft moan. My pleasure began to double, and then triple, when I felt him squeeze my tit and run a thumb along my hardened nipple before doing the exact same to the other one.
Having complete access to my hands for the first time in what felt like forever, I used that to my advantage and began exploring Matt’s body. His frame was slightly thinner than Chris’, and I relished in the feeling of a raised, fresh tattoo against my fingers as I traveled down his arm. Reaching his waist, I grazed my hand against his clothed member; already painfully hard and pressing against his jeans. As I palmed it a few times, Matt released a soft moan in my ear before moving his mouth down to my left tit; swirling his slippery tongue against my nipple and causing me to shutter in pleasure. After taking his time with the left, he moved his mouth to the right. While Chris’ favourite part of my body is my ass, clearly Matt has found his own personal favourite.
While the feeling of his mouth on my tit was already causing my head to spin, I desperately needed more. I fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans, before slowly pulling them down his legs and hopefully granting his member some relief. With his mouth still on my tit, Matt helped me by pulling them down the rest of the way, along with his boxers. Once his boxers were off and his cock was able to spring free, I immediately grabbed it in my hand and began pumping up and down. Another soft groan left his lips, and the vibration from it against my sensitive nipples caused me to moan in reply.
As I pumped his member in my hand, I felt his own hand trail down my body before finally landing on the place where I needed it the most. As if he knew my body by heart, Matt found my clit in seconds and wasted no time before rubbing it at the same pace that I was jerking him off at. His mouth detached from my tit and found mine, but in our world of equal pleasure the kiss was sloppy; our mouths fell open at times and tongues swiped in and out mindlessly.
“Y-you feel good?” Asked Matt, his voice soft and choppy at the same time. Nodding my head, I widened my legs with the desperation of needing more. “Want to feel all of y-you Matt.” I whispered, opening my eyes and finally meeting his. In the dim light, they were glossed over. His pupils were so dilated that, if I didn’t know him before, I would have assumed his eyes were brown. He blinked at me for a quick moment, but didn’t make me wait long before positioning himself in between my legs.
I watched in awe as his body hovered over mine. I flinched slightly as he lined his member up to my opening; my core still slightly sore from a few minutes ago. Noticing, Matt looks back up at me. “I’ll go slow, okay?” Nodding, I drop my jaw as Matt sinks into me, keeping true to his word but still bottoming out. I felt every inch of him stretch me out, and as he stayed still to allow me a moment to adjust to him, I couldn’t help but release a frustrated moan. As if he has been in tune with my needs for years, Matt takes this simple remark for what it means, and slowly began thrusting into me.
Although his pace is slow, his shaft pleasures what seems like every nerve inside of me before finally reaching my spongey g-spot with a quick snap on each thrust. His movements are so pleasurable it’s almost excruciating, and I struggle to keep the moans from falling helplessly from my mouth. What’s more, is that even with my eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, I can feel his eyes on my face, taking in every expression and hushed sound that I make. “You want more?” He asks, his voice in a strained whisper. I shake my head. “N-no. Keep going just like that, please.” I reply, and I release a breathy moan when I feel him wrap my legs around his waist before continuing in the same unbeatable rhythm.
I run my hands through his dark brown hair, before allowing them to rest on the nape of his neck. I relished in the feeling of his back muscles tensing on each meticulously controlled thrust, before pulling his head down so that I could kiss him. Normally, I’m not someone who cares much about kissing during sex, but there was something about the deprivation and tenderness of his soft kiss that seemed to bring me even closer to an orgasm than his cock did. As he kissed me, his pace never wavered, but I could tell by the soft grunts falling from his lips that he was getting close.
As if reading my mind, he suddenly pulled out of me and I felt him shift on the bed. Thinking that he was about to cum on my stomach and that I was going to once again be deprived of an orgasm, I felt embarrassing tears well up in my eyes. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the sudden feeling of his tongue twirling skillfully against my clit. My hands immediately flew to his hair, and I was no longer capable of holding back the moans that fell from my lips. As he continued eating my pussy, he slid two fingers into my core and began pumping them the exact same way he pumped his cock into me just moments before.
In that moment, I was in total euphoria. I was sure that my knuckles were turning white from the death grip that I had on Matt’s hair, just as I was sure that if anyone was on the other side of the bedroom door — or, in the bathroom for that matter — they would definitely hear the filth that was falling from my mouth. But I had lost the ability to care, because all of my thoughts were highjacked by the unutterable levels of pleasure that were surging through my body in that moment.
And what made everything that much more intense, was the fact that Matt so clearly loved what he was doing to me. Every few seconds, I felt a deep moan fall from his mouth and vibrate off of my bundle of nerves, and in the off chance that I had my eyes open, watching him, I noticed him grinding his hips against his bed to gain some sort of relief. “I-I — oh fuck! — Matt, I’m c-close!” I exclaimed, feeling the waves of my orgasm rise threateningly close to the surface.
At my proclamation, Matt moved in one swift motion and slid his cock back into me. His pace was the same as it was before, but this time his thumb found my swollen clit and he began rubbing it quickly. “Gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” My legs were back around his waist, and my fingers were digging into his shoulder blades as I struggled to gather my thoughts. “Anywhere you want Matt!” My words breathless and exclamatory, I was barely able to get them out before an indescribable orgasm tore through my body.
I might have truly screamed out in pleasure, and dug my nails into Matt’s skin so far that he bled, but I have no way of knowing for sure — I had lost all of my senses through the overwhelming waves of pleasure. All I remember is feeling as if the pressure that had been building up inside of me for so long had been too much, and my brain had exploded. For what could have been minutes or hours — but which was probably only a few seconds — I truly thought that I might have died. But then, suddenly, I was back in my body, and it was convulsing uncontrollably through a life altering orgasm.
When I came back to my senses, Matt had his damp forehead resting against mine. His body had stilled above me, but I could feel his member twitching inside of me; painting my walls in his signature shade of white. Both of our breathing was ragged as if we had both just completed a marathon, and we both stayed still, in complete silence, as we came down from our highs.
After a few moments, Matt placed a soft kiss to my forehead before slowly removing himself from my centre. I watched him walk over to where he had discarded the towel, picking it up and bringing it over to me to help me clean myself up. So far neither of us had spoken, but I didn’t care very much as my mind was still not fully connected to my body. Finally, he spoke. “You still feel okay about this?” He asked as he began putting his clothes on. I smiled, almost laughing at the absurdity of the caution in his words. “I feel more than okay Matt.” I replied, to which he released a small laugh before handing me my shirt.
Once I was dressed, I managed to get myself to my feet. Standing at the edge of the bed, I suddenly felt nervous about walking back out into the party after being gone for so long. As if he read my mind once again, Matt walked to the door first. “I’ll head out first, then you can come out in a few minutes.” I laughed nervously but nodded. “Sounds good. See you out there.” I watched as his hand reached for the door knob before turning back to the bed to find my phone.
“Oh and Y/n?” I faced him again, “Chris might be good at sharing, but I’m not.”
His words made my already unsteady knees wobbly, and I dropped back onto the bed once he closed the bedroom door behind him. All at once, every moment of the night hit me like a freight train, and I finally realized what happened. I fucked Matt. Just a few hours ago, I was pretending to have a normal conversation with him as I was green with envy watching Chris make out with that girl. I had never planned on doing anything even close to what I had done with him, yet here I am, sitting on his bed. I close my eyes. I can still feel him inside of me. He was so good. But Chris was also sogood. Both of my best friends’ triplet brothers. How did I get here?
I’m fucked.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months
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♡ Girl Under You ♡
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♡ Pairings: gynecologist!seonghwa! x chubby!afab!reader
♡ Genre: smut/fluff
♡ Summary: Scheduling your yearly check up with your OBGYN can be nerve-wracking. Especially when your doctor's Park Seonghwa. Finally getting up the courage to visit, you do all you can to conceal the not so appropriate feelings you have towards him. Not only is it inappropriate but he surely doesn't feel the same. Right?
♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish
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♡ Warnings: reader has a vagina and identifies as a woman. we're at the OBGYN so this is ultra vagina city. pervy Dr. Park Seonghwa, you too are a perv tbh it's mutual, shy/touch starved reader, body worship, nipple/breast play, fingering (gentle & rough), unprotected sex, cum marking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, baby, etc), a lil rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), nonsexual use of the word slut (not in a bad way), it gets bitey for a second, examination kink, soft dom Hwa vibes.
♡ A/N: Listen, I can explain. It's all on @anyamaris for encouraging me to begin with. Blame her!
Important note: If you have a vagina go get it checked out regularly. Your doctor will certainly not be Seonghwa dicking you down BUT it's an important and sometimes life saving appointment sooo make it or I'll fight you. K, love you, bye ♡
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♡ ♡ ♡ “I wanna be that guy. I'll wreck you right up, guy. I'll lie down face up, guy. The girl under you, guy.” ~ Lady Gaga ~ ♡♡ ♡
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“Date of your last period? Any abnormal cramping or bleeding? Any chance of pregnancy?” the nurse fires off questions, tapping your answers into the laptop balanced on her hip.
Sitting on the exam table, your feet dangling off the edge, you try not to get whiplash from how quickly she whirls around the room loading a tray with supplies for your exam. The office is unexpectedly short staffed today, forcing her to play the role of nurse and human octopus. You understand how overwhelmed she must be but pray that she stops soon. Your anxiety was already bad enough coming in here. This nervous energy is not helping. 
“Last question, honey” she says, turning to face you, “Oh, have you been sexually active recently?” She cracks a playful smile, clearly expecting your answer to be something that it isn’t.
“No” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. Look at how shiny those tile floors are. Has this exam table always been this cushy? Such a marvelous generic art print that is hanging by the door.
The nurse’s eyes widen, a hand clutched to her chest in shock, “You went to Coachella and didn’t get laid?” 
“Nurse Kim! Can we not today?” you pout, in no mood to have this conversation right now. 
Being a longtime patient here has a lot of perks. Getting closer to the nurses especially has been great for you. I mean, who doesn’t like getting the appointment slot they want every single time? But the drawback is that they like you enough to pick on you. Maybe it’s their way of breaking you out of your shell, getting you to be less shy, but you wish they wouldn’t. 
Nurse Kim shrugs, miming the zipping of her lips, “Okay, okay. I’ll mind my business.” Placing the supplies on the table, she grabs you a fresh hospital blue medical gown. “You know the deal, right? No shoes, no bra…” 
You nod along with her instructions, hopping down to kick your sneakers off. Finally she finishes and heads for the door to give you some privacy. “The doctor will be in shortly. Let me know if you need anything” she says, stopping halfway out the door. “You really didn’t bang anyone at Coachella. Wow. Girl, you’ve got to learn to live a little. You’re too hot not to slut it up!” 
“Thank you so much for everything. Goodbye. Bye!” you laugh, inching the door shut until she’s on the other side of it. 
Alone at last, you’re able to get out of your clothes and into your gown in peace and quiet. Well, “peace” might not be the word to describe what you’re feeling but at least you’re able to panic in silence. 
You really shouldn’t be as nervous as you are. You’ve been coming to this office for years. Everyone’s kind and welcoming. They always make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of. There’s definitely no part of you they haven’t seen so you have nothing to be ashamed of. Still there’s one thing—one major, heart pounding, pulse quickening thing—that makes you too nervous to function every time you’re here.
Your phone vibrates in your purse and you contemplate not answering but dig it out anyway figuring a little distraction can’t hurt. Unlocking your phone, you spot a text from your best friend. 
It reads: “Did you see Hot Doctor yet?” 
You giggle to yourself, typing back to her. “His name’s Seonghwa and not yet. Still waiting.”
“On a first name basis are we? Seonghwa. That’s even hot to say.”
“Dr. Park, I mean. His name is hot to say though. He’s hot. I fucking hate it.”
“Just give him your number already!”
“Sure. While he’s swabbing me I’ll be all ‘Hey, Dr. Park. Wanna go to lunch?’”
Your best friend responds with a meme of Megan thee Stallion sticking her tongue out. “Plot twist. The lunch is between my legs, daddy!”
You’re choking back laughter and tears, scrolling your phone for the perfect meme to send back when there’s a knock at the door. You nearly jump out of your skin, shoving your phone back into your purse. 
“Come in!” you shout, returning to the exam table just in time for the doctor to step in.
Everything moves in slow motion when Park Seonghwa enters the room. Ahem, Dr. Park. He is, as you and your best friend have come to call him, a hot doctor. The hottest doctor you’ve ever seen. His dark wavy hair’s pulled back into a high ponytail, loose pieces hanging to frame a face too gorgeous to look directly at. His bone structure’s immaculate, his lips soft and pink, and his voice… 
“Long time no see. How’s my favorite patient been?” he says, flashing that killer smile of his. That voice. That smile. It makes you want to faint. 
You laugh it off, hoping not to come off as flustered as you are. “Dr. Park, I’m not your favorite patient.”
Seonghwa takes a seat on a nearby rolling stool and spins his way over to you, making a cute woo noise when he does. It gets a giggle out of you which is exactly what he wanted. 
“Who says you aren’t?” he asks, sliding in closer, his hands disappearing behind your legs.
It’s hard to breathe when he’s this close, staring up at you from between your legs. The smell of his cologne dances around you, a sweet woodsy scent that you imagine might smell even better on top of you. Just the thought awakens a familiar tingle between your thighs that threatens to make you wet the crinkly paper blanket beneath you if you carry on like this. You know that you shouldn’t feel this way. He’s a doctor. He’s just doing his job. And here you are perving over him. 
“Dr. Park, anything else you need me to grab?” Nurse Kim asks, popping back into the room. Her appearance snaps you out of your trance and you force a smile to keep things normal. If you weren’t brain rotted and horny you'd swear Seonghwa had been reading your reaction that whole time. That he saw the effect he had on you and seemed somehow amused by it. But that’s factually insane. Get it together. 
The foot rests behind your legs, the reason Seonghwa reached back there to begin with, unfold with a creak. “No, I think we’re good” he answers before turning back to you, “Lay back for me and put your feet up. We’ll be done in no time, okay?” You follow his instructions, laying back on the table, readjusting yourself however he asks you to.
Closing your eyes, you rest your hands on your belly, impatiently waiting for this to be over. Though Seonghwa’s interest in what’s between your legs is purely medical, the fact remains that you hope he doesn’t find it ugly. You shaved for this, used this nice pH balancing rose water soap on it. You did everything but put makeup on it and throw it in a dress. You feel kinda silly now thinking back on it but your brain isn’t exactly logical when it comes to him. 
A few cranks of a speculum and cotton swabs later you’re done with the first part of your exam. “Good girl, you did well. The hardest part’s over” he praises, swapping his latex gloves out for a new pair. Your heart skips a beat at being called a “good girl”. He didn’t mean it that way but your body can’t differentiate between reality and how devastatingly sexy that was. Seonghwa turns to address the nurse and you quickly press your thighs together for some relief.
“I’ll send these off and go set up for the next patient” Nurse Kim says, grabbing your samples. She turns to smile at you one last time before disappearing from the room. “Remember what I said” she whispers, “Slut. It. Up.” Unfortunately, of all the things she’s skilled at whispering isn’t one of them and Seonghwa hears her.
Rising from his seat, he walks alongside you, stopping when he reaches your chest. “Just lower your gown for me for a second.”
You do as you’re told, carefully rolling your gown below your breasts. “So, slut it up, huh? What’s that about?” he teases, cold hands cupping one of your soft breasts. You inhale sharply at the contact, a thankfully normal reaction to cold hands touching you. Though for you it’s more that they’re his hands than anything.
“She thinks I need to get laid” you blurt out, caught off guard by your own bluntness.
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, his fingertips pushing gently into your breast. “I’ll have to talk to her about that. She shouldn’t be judging people for their life choices.”
“I mean, it’s not really a life choice. I’m just not…I’m not a girl who…” you ramble, shutting yourself up immediately after realizing what you’re saying. Seonghwa pauses, glancing over at you, two fingers circling the perimeter of your nipple. It stiffens at the closeness, your touch starved body grateful for the attention. 
“Not a girl who what?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely interested.
It doesn’t seem that he’ll keep going if you don’t answer so you give in. “I don’t know, guys just don’t hit on me I guess. I’m not that girl.”
Seonghwa continues his examination, flattening his fingers at the base of your breast and dragging them up to your nipple. They bounce back each time, looking rounder and fuller as if he’s worked some magic on them.
“I don’t think that’s necessarily it” he sighs, moving on to the other breast, “A lot of men are intimidated by beautiful women.” 
Beautiful women? Did Park Seonghwa just call you a “beautiful woman”?
“B-beautiful?” you stutter, at a loss for what to do with yourself, “That’s really nice of you but I’m not…”
Seonghwa can’t help but smile at how adorable you are when he compliments you. You’re as good at concealing it as Nurse Kim is at whispering. Seonghwa knows that you’re attracted to him. To be fair, a lot of his patients are, but you are truthfully his favorite. Always so beautiful, always so easy to tease, and such a pretty pretty pussy that’s always wet for him. 
“But you are” he insists, both hands cradling your breast, thumbs running up the side, “You must have a mirror at home, no?” 
“Dr. Park, are you trying to make me blush?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. 
The pads of his thumbs graze your hardening nipple and your back arches, a whimper lighter than air escaping your lips. You catch Seonghwa quickly nibbling at his bottom lip, his eyes glimmering at the shock and pleasure painting your face. You caught him. You saw it this time. Really saw it. 
Seonghwa knows he should stop here, end the examination, and send you on your way before he does something stupid. It’s just…that little moan you let out? It’s a melody he’s been fantasizing about since the first time you laid across his table. He has to hear it again.
“I don’t know. Is it, aaah…” he breathes in, one of his thumbs circling the tip of your bud, “Is it working?” 
Slipping his left hand back across your chest, he palms your other breast, pinching your sensitive nipple each time he rolls his wrist.
“Yes, it…oh god…it’s working” you mewl, your mouth falling open, moans pouring out at the perfect volume for only the two of you to hear.
Your feet tremble in the foot rests, your legs still spread to leave your dripping, vulnerable pussy exposed to the cool air of the room. Hypnotized by the sight of Seonghwa playing with your tits, high off the electric current it sends through your body, it’s easy to forget that you actually came here for a reason. 
“I should probably finish your exam” Seonghwa whispers, doing his best to ignore the hard cock pressing against his slacks. Your body may be tempting but it is technically his job to make sure you’re healthy too. His hands gradually cease their movement, gliding down to do away with the gown that was hardly hiding to your naked body.
“Fuck, look at you” he gasps, massaging your squishy belly, tracing your love handles, and rounding the curve of your hip to reach your thigh. His fingers dig into your thigh, savoring their softness all the way up to your core.
His gaze travels back up your body to those starry doe eyes that hang on his every move, “Think I’ll need the lube or are you already wet enough for me, baby?”
Seonghwa rubs two fingers along your slit, collecting your arousal on the tip of his glove. He brings them to his mouth, extending his long tongue to lick your juices up.
“Mmm, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you” he hums, taking his time to enjoy the taste of you on his tongue. 
“Dr. Park, please…” you beg, thighs pressing together again, the need for his touch unbearable. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart” he apologizes, his fingers immediately returning to their place between your legs. “You want me to finger that perfect little cunt?” 
“Yes, please, I want…need it so bad.” 
Seonghwa brings his lips to yours, your eyes gleaming with lust as they meet, “You need it, baby? That bad, huh?” 
Two gloved fingers push into you, your pussy welcoming them with the tightest of hugs. “Fuck, yes, so good” you whine into his mouth as you begin to ride his fingers. Seonghwa dips his tongue between your lips, your mouths passionately crashing together. You grab the collar of his white coat, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss as his fingers work your core. Inside of you his fingers stimulate spots men who aren’t in his line of work wouldn’t even know existed. Some you didn’t even know could bring you such pleasure until now.
Your eyes squeeze shut, elbows giving out from under you, “Harder, Dr. Park, wanna feel you so deep.” 
Seonghwa catches your head before it can hit the cushion beneath you, lowering it down carefully as he draws another kiss from your lips. “Only if you promise to be a good girl and be quiet for me.” 
“I p-promise. Quiet. I’ll be…” you moan, throwing your hands over your mouth when he suddenly picks up the pace. Shifting between your legs, he tucks a hand behind your right knee and pushes it to your chest. Your palms are sweating, fingers locked together to keep you from screaming. Seonghwa’s fingers are much deeper than you thought they could go and his pace is too unforgiving for you to brace yourself for any of it.
“Ssh, ssh, you’re getting too loud, baby” he teases, coming in to kiss your inner thigh. Your juices stream down his fingers, soaking the thin paper beneath you. Hating to waste something so delicious, he begins licking around his own fingers. Between your lips. Around your clit. Anywhere his fingers send it splashing, he licks it clean. 
Your hands begin to slip from your mouth, your poor wrecked little body going too limp to keep it together. Thinking quickly, you bite down on your hand just enough to keep the noise in but you aren’t sure how long it’ll last. You’re dangerously close to coming. You can feel it and Seonghwa does too. Your hole’s so greedy, sucking him in and refusing to let go. It’s just begging to come but he won’t let it. Not like this at least.
Reaching down, he blindly fumbles around with his pants until he feels his cock spring free. He groans into your pussy as he closes his hand around his cock, rocking in and out of his own grip.
“Dr. Park, I’m gonna, mmph, aaah, fuck…gonna come” you squeal, hips stuttering against his face.
“Fuck, yes, come for me, sweetheart” he grins, rimming the head of his cock with his thumb, “You wanna come on my cock?” 
Seonghwa’s proposal has you biting down on your hand hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh god, yes, fuck me please. Fuck me, Seonghwa.”
Popping his fingers free, he grabs you by your legs and drags you down until your ass hangs off of the table. “Seonghwa!” you cry out, eyes rolling back as he thrusts into you. That stretch. That one exhilarating, earth shattering stretch, is all it takes to ruin you.
“Mmm, that’s it, come baby. Give it to me” he moans, hips snapping into your fluttering core. You expect, like any other orgasm, for your high to fade after the initial peak but it doesn’t. You’re still there. And your body’s giving out. You brain’s going hazy. You can’t take it but you want to even if it makes you go crazy. 
Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your pretty face, never stop eating up how hot you are when you’re at his mercy. The sensation of his own high crashing down on him has him pushing your thighs together, the thickness of them making your pussy feel twice as tight around him.
“So fucking tight, shit, you’re gonna make me come. Where do you want it?” 
“I, ooh, I want it…want.” The words are there but you struggle so very hard to find them. You dig deep, collecting the strength needed to run your hand down your belly and spread your folds for him. Your voice is so cute and broken when you say, “On me.”
Seonghwa folds immediately, pulling out to coat your clit in the thick warmth spilling from his cock. Stopping to catch his breath, he leaves it there resting against your clit. Both of you twitching together, his seed dripping down your pussy so that no part of you isn’t marked by him. 
“Don’t clean it off” he instructs, kissing down your leg as he places your feet back in the foot rests, “Leave it so you’ll think of me when you’re driving home.” 
Easing your fingers from between your folds, you pop them into your mouth, sucking them like a lollipop. “Anything else, Dr. Park?” 
Seonghwa zips his pants up, searching his brain for any other pressing information. “That depends, are you free tonight?” 
“Hmm, let me think” you muse, staring off into space for dramatic effect. “I can be. That depends on what you had in mind.”
“Well, I was thinking I could pick you up for dinner and then…” He blows you a kiss that communicates his plan wonderfully, “Dinner.” 
You giggle, your sweet little crush on him more severe than ever, “Sure, I’d like that but, hold on, you don’t know where I live.” 
Seonghwa takes his gloves off, tossing them in the trash can by the door. “You’re my patient, remember? I literally have all of your personal information.”
“Isn’t that, like, a violation of patient privacy or something?” 
Seonghwa laughs off your comment, walking over to sneak in a goodbye kiss. “I’ve already violated your privacy once today, sweetheart. Can't hurt to do it again”
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lua-magic · 7 months
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Eighth house and your hidden pain.
Whichever your eighth house Lord goes, there you have to face transformations, humiliation, pain and traumas.
Wherever your eighth house Lord goes or which ever planets goes in your four, eighth and twelfth you should be extremely secretive about that planet and should not disclose about it to public as eighth house is of secrets.
Eighth house Lord in first house 🏠
This is little tricky placement, because it makes person extremely secretive about his/her activities.
It could get native involved in extra marital or immoral activities or give person high sexual drive or urges which he/she can't control
Person has deep rooted traumas and pain that he/she can't express .
Person is extremely sensitive and has tendancy to pent up emotions and that makes person emotionally unstable as/she has no idea "how to release emotions in healthy way" that makes person extremely agressive when he expresses his emotions.
He has hidden personalities which he doesn't show to public for example he will be different personality to his family and then he switches his personality for his wife
However, person would be good in research and good in spirituality.
Native should not talk about himself to others he should extremely quiet about his life.
Eighth Lord in second house 🏠.
This combination gives you money, so much so that you can lead a life of dignity, nor less not more, as eighth house has tendancy to flush out things, it cannot hold, that is why eighth house represents your "excretion ".
You will face ups and downs in finances and regarding family.
In some cases family could be the reason of your pain and traumas.
In some cases person often see or sense super natural powers around him.
You should be secretive about your finances and should not disclose to others.
Eight Lord in third house 🏠.
Third house is of mental inclination and attractions.
Your own desires and mental inclination will be cause of your anxiety, stress, and depression.
Eighth Lord in third house is not good for siblings, as they will be constant cause of worry and anxiety for the native.
Third-house is also of house of courage, so eighth Lord damages your courage and you don't like to take initiatives and risks in life.
Third house also represents, subconscious mind hence, native should always work on his subconscious mind and be secretive about his/ her desire.
Eight lord in fourth house 🏡
Eighth house is of transformations and fourth house is of domestic environment.
Person will live like wanderer, and continuously change is place.
This placement give trouble to mother and gives person extreme emotions like depression and anxiety because native like to go in roots and analyse everything in so much details that he loses his emotional control.
It could also make person good counselor and psychiatric
Fourth house is of comfort, hence, person should always work or think outside comfort zone and never try to limit himself or herself.
Person should be quiet about his house and home related matters and should not disclose it in public.
Eighth lord in fifth house 🏡
Fifth house is of children, children could be the cause of stress and anxiety for the native.
Fifth house is also your concious mind, so person will be constantly being under stress or anxiety.
Fifth House is also of learning, so this placement is good for someone who wants to go in occult and Astrology.
Fifth house is of love life, due to love life native could face extream transformations in his/her life
Native should be quiet about his love life, and about his children and should not disclose it in public, especially be quiet about your pregnancy and conceive.
Eighth Lord in sixth house.
Sixth house is of debt and diseases, native could face stress and anxiety due to his diseases and debts in life.
Sixth house is also of daily routine, so native can't maintain his daily routine.
It is also good, because person would fight with his traumas and his eniemies.
Native should be quiet about his social services, charities and about his problems in life, don't announce it on public platforms or even to your family, learn to to do secret charities and be quiet about your struggles.
Eight Lord in seventh house 🏠
This is again tricky placement because it disturbs the martial life of the native and partner could be cause of stress and depression.
However, native could experience major transformations in life after marriage.
Native should marry partner who are into occult and Astrology or are Deep thinker or in research.
Native could also gain inheritance from his partner.
Native should be quiet about his married life and should not disclose much about his partner to public.
Eighth Lord in eighth house 🏡
This could give major transformations in life and also be cause of depression and anxiety, as eight house is of traumas and eighth Lord in his own house will only increase all your traumas and grief in life.
Native experiences deep pain and sadness in his/her life before your life gets better like dark night of the soul and then native transforms for ever
Sometimes you have to die in order to reborn., I am mentioning mental death.
Eighth house is of isolation and detachments, it makes person isolated and detached from every thing, once you are detached and emotionally dry, your life starts getting better.
It kills you emotionally slowly and exposes all your past life traumas and emotions that you have stored inside you to you till you work on it and transform yourself.
It is good for someone who wants to learn astrology and occult.
Person should be quiet about his pain and grief and should not disclose about his sadness and depression in public.
Eighth Lord in ninth house 🏠
Ninth house is of father, religion and teacher, native could experience major transformations in his/her life due to father or teacher. Father could be cause of stress and anxiety and depression.
Person will not be attached to his religion and has difficulty in making long term plans.
Ninth house is also of luck, so her person should not leave anything in "Luck" .
Scorpio has energy death, so person experiences major event in his life, where native hits the rock bottom, and then he/she experiences divine blessings, blessings come only in critical situation.
Native should be silent about everything in his life, and should not disclose his weaknesses especially, to his friends or even family. If you have weak spot then don't let anyone know about it.
Eighth Lord in tenth House 🏠
When eighth Lord goes in tenth House 🏠, it gives you major change or shift in your career and work, you will change your work frequently and won't be satisfied in your work life .
It won't let you settle in work or you won't be able to find work which you enjoy. You experience stress and anxiety due to work continuously..
Native could do well in occult or in Astrology..
Native should learn to do his work in silence, and not to disclose his professional life with anyone.
Eighth Lord in eleventh house 🏡
Eleventh house is house of your friends, so native should be careful about choosing his/her friends as native could experience stress and anxiety due to his friend circle.
He should make only spiritual friends and don't share his personal life with his friends.
Due to his bad friend circle native could get involved in illicit activities, friends could also try to harm or defame the native.
Native should always have healthy boundaries with his/her friends.
Eighth Lord in twelfth house 🏠
Twelfth house is of Intuition, and eighth house is of occult and Astrology, person has some occult powers or sixth sense within him.
Native could be great healer or has connections with spirits or angels that guide him/her
Twelfth house is of bed pleasure, so person could experience problems in bed pleasure and especially sleep related issues.
Twelfth house is of sleep and eighth house is mysticism, so person could experience premonition in dream and can sense events.
Eighth house is also of dead, so native could sense death before or talk to dead people as well.
Person should not disclose his occult powers in public and also about his sexual activities
If person gets into meditation then he/she can unlock his hidden super powers easily.
This placement could also give native sexual traumas, and pain and fear due to sexual activities
Scorpio 🦂 is tail, Opposite to eighth house is Taurus which represents your eyes and mouth, hence Scorpio has energy of being hidden, or which cannot be seen but, could be felt intensely.
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daenysx · 8 months
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Hii can you write where james and reader are both the only virgins in the group so decided to do it together to get it over with but then they started to do it more often bcs james is absolutely obsessed with her.
thank you for requesting, i hope you like this! requests are open!!
james potter x fem!reader, nsfw
becoming experts
james thinks maybe he should be embarrassed.
here he is, knocking on your door, standing at your doorstep with your favorite dessert in his hand. this is the third time in this week, and it won't be the last. he fixes his posture, puts a little smile on his face, and knocks on your door again. he is fine.
you open the door, wearing only your sleep shorts and a little tank top, which is both a blessing and a curse for james's poor heart. your hair seems a little messy, your face without any make up, and you look beautiful. your lips curve upwards when you see james at your doorstep, you are quick to pull him inside.
"hi, sweetheart." james says as he steps inside. "i hope this is not a bad time."
you look at him like he's said the silliest thing in the world. "come on, jamie, you know there's no such a thing as bad time for you."
"yeah, yeah, i'm glad." why is he acting so out of character? suddenly he's shy, blushing when you point at his hand.
"is that for me?" you ask, kind of shy but more comfortable than him.
he nods. "of course, there you go."
he gives you the box and you take it with a huge smile on your face. "thank you!"
james's heart takes a leap.
you lead him inside, your little living room looks cozy with all those blankets spread on your couch and the warm air covering the room. you take the dessert with two spoons, sitting on the couch and inviting james next to you. he takes off his jacket and kicks his shoes, sits next to you, hoping to be less awkward in the next moments of this act.
"would you like something to drink?" you ask.
james shakes his head. "no, maybe later."
you nod, taking a spoonful of your dessert. "this is perfect. literally the best thing in the world, thank you so much."
james laughs. "you're welcome, angel."
you look at his unused spoon. "why don't you eat?"
he doesn't know. his mouth is dry, he should get a grip on himself. "i'm-"
your lips look perfect around that spoon.
"you've got chocolate- here." he leans into your space slowly.
you smile, his fingers cup your cheek. "this is so cliche."
"you think so?" he whispers.
"you know," you begin. "if you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask."
james leans back on the couch, suddenly free of shyness to jump on the opportunity. "what if i want more than just a kiss?"
"i'm sure we can do something about that." you take another spoon of chocolate sauce.
"oh, baby." james says, pulling you to his lap. "come here."
your hands are empty, you move quickly to him. your legs are on each side of his thighs and you sit gently. "how do you feel?" he asks, holding your hands.
"i'm fine. really, really good."
"you sound unnaturally teasing. i thought that was supposed to be me."
you shrug. "i don't know, you act weird today. it's not like this is the first time we're being this close."
the best night of james's life was probably the night he'd spend at your apartment, in your bed. you were naked, so was he, the wine was kicking like a liquid courage as you had sex for the first time. you could expect weirdness between you two, you were both each other's first time and you had been friends for years, but it never happened. it felt so good and so right, james lost himself between your legs and you made sounds that you've never made before.
you were both inexperienced, subject of sirius's little teasings and remus's sympathetic looks when it comes to stuff about sex. you don't know how did things happened as they have that night, but suddenly you were kissing james. you could be afraid if this would ruin your friendship but at that moment everything was so good, you could never imagine the act could ever feel like this.
since that night, james had been to your apartment once more. he was just trying to make sure everything's okay between you and your friendship still stands. then, he was taking off his clothes and you were leaning towards him. you took his cock in your mouth for the first time and james forgot everything except your name.
now, here you are, trying to balance yourself on james's lap, keeping yourself still to not press against him. "james," you say. "it's okay. i- i want you too."
james throws his head back, his hands still holding yours. he looks at you through his glasses and smiles. "i just want you to feel good."
"i'm always feeling good when i'm with you." you say, honestly. "i think we fit each other really well and i- i want it, with you."
"yeah?" james pulls you closer. "you want it, pretty girl?"
you nod. james continues. "i guess we've got addicted." he says like it's a secret. "but that's okay. we can keep going as long as you're good with it."
you start the kiss and james exhales, finally. he cups your cheeks, angles your neck to deepen the kiss. you taste sweet, he licks the chocolate left on your lips. you whimper quietly, feeling him harden under you. this is good, you think. this is so perfect, it doesn't feel any wrong.
james's hands go to your back and he rubs your skin affectionally. he breaks the kiss to brush his lips on your pulse point. you take a breath, holding onto his shoulders. "james." you say. "i wanna go to bed."
he obliges, lifts you easily, and carries you to your bedroom. he is gentle when he puts you on bed, you are quick to take off your clothes. you are not shy to be naked around him, he makes you feel safe. you throw your clothes somewhere on the floor and settle down on bed, watching james.
he looks at you, eyes focused, and mouth slightly open. is he dreaming? this surely is better than any dream, you are lovely as you lay there and wait for him.
he doesn't intend to tease you or make you wait. you've been so honest and sweet with him, you deserve to get what you want. james makes a quick work of his clothes, leaving everything on the floor until he is bare in front of you. he gets on his knees on bed and reaches you. you part your legs obediently, without expecting a word from him.
"you're so pretty, sweetheart." james says, fondly. "you know that, right?"
you squirm under his hands. "jamie, please."
"you should know that." he says, kisses your chest. "you should be aware of the power you have on me."
you shake your head. "it's mutual, and you're being silly."
"let me be romantic for a second, yeah?" he kisses your perked nipple. "fuck, gonna give you everything you want."
"please." you say, losing your breath when he sucks your nipple. he likes using his mouth on you, you realize. he slowly goes down on your body and you laugh when he kisses below your belly button.
"tickles?" he asks, ever so playful.
you nod. "will you do it again?"
he answers by kissing the same spot over and over, turns you into a mess under his mouth. his fingers are quick to touch your cunt, he collects the wetness that starts pooling and rubs it all over. "will you let me taste you?" he asks, begging for a yes. "i wonder if you taste so sweet everywhere."
"you- i guess you can, if you want." you arch your back, subtly press your cunt against his mouth.
"if i want? i'm dying for it."
he buries his face between your legs, tries to get directing noises out of you. he's not experienced but he finds himself to be a quick learner when it comes to you. he licks the wetness out of you and pushes his tongue inside. you wrap your legs around his neck, the sensation is so strange but suddenly it starts feeling good. you remember the second time you had sex and how you felt insatiable to take his cock in your mouth. he must feel that way right now, you think, because he never stops making those wild noises as he uses his mouth.
james sucks your clit relentlessly. you whimper, his name becomes a song. he grips your thighs and holds you in your place. "james- so close- so clo- hmm-"
he lifts his head just for a second. "come for me, lovely girl. let go for me, this is perfect."
you obey, arch your back as he sucks again, and you're dripping in his mouth. james keeps licking, helps you through your peak. you feel so tired, so exhausted, so naked, and it's good. james keeps you steady, his cock twitches at the sight of your cunt, all swollen and licked.
"are you okay, baby?" he coos. "we can stop."
you shake your head. you can't stop because he's addictive. "i want you inside." there's no crumb of shyness left. "please, i want it."
james angles you to be more comfortable, he rubs the skin of your thigh. "gotta be slow, okay?" he says.
you nod, messy and desperate. "however you want."
he positions his cock in just the right way. he is being slow and quiet as he keeps pushing, he knows it's a tight fit. when you clench around him he can't help himself, he goes a little fast. "oh, angel." he whispers, mouth closed on your neck. he pushes himself again. "so tight, just like the first time i got you like this. you're gonna make me come soon if you squeeze around me like that."
you part your legs a little more, holding onto his broad shoulders. "i like this so much. so full, jamie."
james starts moving inside you, still careful but easier. you try to move your hips accordingly, it's like a new dance both of you are trying to learn better. he is worried he'll come too soon, because you're being irresistable.
"can you touch me- right, right there?" you ask, position his fingers on your clit.
"yeah, yeah, of course."
his fingers play with you until you start begging for him to come. he keeps pushing himself until he can't see straight anymore. "can i come? james, can i come again?" you melt, so close and so wet, you can hear the wetness pooling on bed.
"yes, come on, sweet thing." he pushes the deepest he's ever been, you clench so hard, he starts coming. "come with me."
you are sure you lose your sight for a second. james explodes on your belly, his strength helps him pull himself back before coming inside you but he keeps playing with your clit so you clench around him and nothing as you come. you see him, you see stars, you feel so sensitive. james groans as he holds his cock to let out every drop of his cum. he exhales your name, desperate to lay down with you on the bed. you are quick to pull him on your chest, he puts his head on your body, and listens your heartbeat.
minutes pass in silence as you both catch your breaths. james rubs your skin with gentle fingers. you stroke his curls, and press a kiss on his forehead.
"i think we're getting pretty good at this." you say, smiling.
"yeah, i guess we are quite the experts of sex now." he says. "can you imagine sirius's reaction?"
"oh, he'd probably never believe it." you say. "but that's fine."
james sits on bed. "would you like to have shower? we've made quite the mess of each other."
you nod, reach for his hand as you sit next to him. "jamie," you begin, "there's no one else that i'd rather do this with. you're- you're the only one for me."
james smiles, kisses your forehead lovingly. "i'd hope so, sweetness." he gives your hand a squeeze. "you're the only one for me, as well."
(you can check here to find out about sirius and remus's reactions lovelies.)
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mjolnirswriststrap · 7 months
Text
Not My Type
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Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers
Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2
Summary: Bucky is dumb.
Warnings: Fatphobia.
A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭
Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.
“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.
“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.
“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.
You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.
“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.
You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.
You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.
“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.
“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.
Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.
You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.
“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.
You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”
“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”
“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”
“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.
An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.
“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.
You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.
When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.
You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.
Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.
He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.
“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.
“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.
Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.
“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.
“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.
You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”
He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.
“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.
“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.
“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.
You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.
You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.
He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.
Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.
A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.
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autistichalsin · 13 days
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Analysis of each character's final words in the new Dark Urge evil ending
If you are romanced to a character, you have the option, when taking the new version of the Sins of the Father ending, to kill your partner in front of the others in your party, killing them with one last kiss. They then give their last words and pass away. I love each and every one and feel they are incredible characterization moments.
So let's break these down!
Lae'zel:
I... I am glad it was you. No other blade would have sufficed.
This is something that hammers home that, Vlaakith or no, Lae'zel deeply believes in all the ideals of a Githyanki. Life is a privilege for the strong, and death is the price of weakness. Further, if romanced, Lae'zel will affectionately call you "the source of my bruises" many times. If she has to die, if she has finally found the one person stronger than herself, then she is "satisfied" that it is you- who she both loved and admired. The only one she would ever consider worthy of besting her.
Karlach:
Fuck you.
Short, simple, and to the point, just the way Karlach does everything else. She's already gone through all her stages of grief with her engine- well, almost all of them. Anger still remains. She burns hot until the end.
Wyll:
I... I forgive you.
This isn't just Wyll being a good guy. This is heartbreak, and guilt. Guilt for not saving you from Bhaal's influence when he was so sure he had. Heartbreak that after he gave his literal soul to save as many people as he could, he couldn't save you- and couldn't save others from you, either. All he sacrificed, negated in an instant by the person he loved and trusted most. Of all the characters here, Wyll (tied with Halsin) sounds the most obviously broken, and it's easy to see why, given that he is self-sacrificing to a fault.
There was a set of scenes datamined from the game, where at the Morphic Pool, the Netherbrain would have taunted the players, causing them to hallucinate things related to their fears and insecurities. Wyll's would have been a vision of himself talking about how he was never a hero, how the Blade of Frontiers was a farce all along. One can't help but think about that scene here, wondering just how much blame, bordering on self-loathing, he might feel here.
Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:
I... I'm coming to you, Lady Shar.
Another short and simple one. By becoming a Dark Justiciar, Shadowheart has fully embraced the nihilism of Shar's teachings. Why be saddened or angry at her own death when this is just what she's embraced with all her sacrifices?
(Sidenote: this does also answer a question I had, namely, what was going to happen to everyone Durge kills. Thankfully it seems they aren't actually going to be sacrificed to him as such, and will indeed end up in the realm of their deities. This makes Bhaal's plan even DUMBER, because deities in DND lore need worshippers to have enough power to exist. Killing everyone at once just guarantees that soon after Durge dies as the last person alive, so too will Bhaal fade from existence.)
Selunite Shadowheart:
I... I thought we were going to save each other...
This Shadowheart rejected everything she knew. She was scared to defy her goddess, but worked up the courage- thanks to you. She thought you would have a new life together. She believed in you. She thought she would get to return the favor, and help you turn the page on Bhaal, too.
She's not just heartbroken for herself; she's heartbroken for you, too. Heartbroken at the life you denied both her and yourself.
Gale:
You made me want to live...
From the moment the orb entered Gale's chest, he knew he was at risk of dying. Then Mystra all but marked him as a dead man walking. But despite that, he finds love with you- and for the first time thinks maybe there is a purpose for him beyond Mystra. That he isn't more useful to the world dead. More than that, he wants to live to be with you, to enjoy your company and companionship. And then you kill him, and do the one thing WORSE than what would have happened if he'd never been pulled from that rock.
It almost would have been kinder to just hack his hand off the first time you met him, though Gale may or may not agree.
Spawn Astarion:
I should have killed you when I had the chance...
The angriest, most bitter response out of all the romanced companions, a step beyond Karlach's "fuck you." This is beyond "fuck you" and even beyond "I hate you." It's "I regret every moment I spent with you." You made him believe he could have better. That he could recover from what Cazador did. You even convinced him to spare the 7,000 spawn and that he could be something better than Cazador.
And now you reveal it was all a lie. Astarion is probably thinking that you talked him out of completing the ritual solely so he'd be easier to kill right here and now. How many regrets are flashing through his mind, how many moments where he wonders if things could have been different if only he'd done this or that, even aside from killing you?
All he wanted was to live as a free person. And then the first time he thinks he has that at last, he loses it as the world ends.
Ascended Astarion:
No... no, this can't be... I can't- you can't- no...
In contrast to spawn Astarion, ascended isn't angry, because he doesn't have the clarity, the ability to process what's happening. Spawn Astarion could tell he'd been betrayed.
But Ascended? Ascended, who went through so much to become one of the most powerful beings in the world, only to STILL lose without fanfare? And by you, his own spawn who he thought he had under his control? It isn't betrayal, because he is bluescreening; he can't comprehend what happened or how or why. How could he have been killed, and by you of all people? Was all he went through killing Cazador really for nothing? How could it be when he was supposed to be the most powerful? Was power actually meaningless all along?
He doesn't say anything of substance because he can't understand what's happening here.
Halsin:
Thaniel... goodbye...
Halsin is the oldest of all the companions. He's experienced the most loss of anyone; his birth family, his fellow Druids, and, for a time, Thaniel. He has had more than enough time to contemplate his own mortality, because he's already lived multiple lifetimes.
So here, two things are happening. One, he isn't expressing anger or betrayal at his murder- because he is more than wise enough, and humble enough, to understand that there are worse things than what has been done to himself. Instead of himself, he is thinking of the world he's leaving behind that is about to fall- and most of all, of his most important person, the one who gave him a purpose, who was there when no one else was, who he failed once and only just got back. The closest thing to a child he'll ever have. In his last moments, instead of himself, Halsin is thinking of those he loves.
And second, it's an almost deliberate snubbing of Durge. He willingly walked into that kiss, knowing full well it would be the last thing he ever did. He gave you his death, he pleaded with his own god to forgive you and him both. He gave you everything he felt he owed you, and no more- no begging or sobbing. Instead, he comes as close as he ever gets to selfishness, and spends his last moments thinking about the thing that makes him the happiest- which could have been you, in another life, if you hadn't done this.
Minthara:
No... we were meant to do this together...
Heartbreak, disbelief, and betrayal. You spent so many nights planning this out. She had been cast aside by her people, her goddess, and she was going to get the last laugh. She was going to crush them personally under her heel and prove she was the best (or second best, behind you) of all of them. She's devastated she won't get to help you torture all those souls and take what she feels was owed to her. But interestingly enough... no anger. Probably because it was overshadowed by the sheer heartbreak, but also a sign that even in those moments, she still admires you for your ruthlessness.
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gommyworm · 2 years
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:^l
#winter is the worst thing to exist ever#i feel like apologizing for being negative but also like this is my blog .... so whatever#anyways these past weeks have been a living hell i havent been so close to swerving into oncoming traffic in a while#regulsr depressions being acting up like a bich bc i havent seen anyone other than my family in weeks#i wake uo at 6 whatever am. go to work. go home. make dinner for my family. sit and read webcomics for a bit. go to sleep.#havent even been sleeping well lmao one of the onky pleasures in my life is being unconcious so this sucks#i had skating classes once a week but that last last thursday so like i dont even get that anymore#and i dont have any monry to sign myself uo for anything else bc i gotta give my mom 1k and i need to pay my credit card n student loans#anyways regular depression + seasonal depression + pmsing like fucking crazy + got in a fight w my mom again#bc shes telling me to get married lmfao but like i dont even leave the house ? im too busy taking care of her kids ?#and i dont even have money to do fun things bc im too stressed about giving her money for my shit head brother ? also i have no friends ?#friend 1 lives in a city 8 hrs away fridnd 2 scheduke doesnt line up w mine often and hes got exams n shjt also hes dealing w his own stuff#friend 3 is my ex who my mom would literally kill me if she knew i was seeing lol so like my options are very limited !#anyways either im gonna have to leave the country or kill myself soon bc i cant live like this for too much longer#i keep telling myelf like oh when the kids are a bit older i can finally leave but like goddd i cant do this for another 3 years#i have literally nothing to live for i hope i die soon#gommywords#sorry if u are one of my 3 aformentioned friends n u read this shit lol i dont have the courage or strength to talk to ppl about things
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merakiui · 7 months
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タコの花嫁。
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.
If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.
And your ancestors intended to claim it.
Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.
“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”
“You ever go and spy one up close?”
“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”
“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”
“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”
Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”
Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.
On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.
It was different in the sea.
Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.
On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.
“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”
No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.
A day of life, not death.
It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.
Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.
So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.
“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea. 
“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”
“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”
“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”
“Fin got it on his first try.”
“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”
Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”
“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”
“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”
“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.
And then—
Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”
The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.
It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.
“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.
Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.
“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”
“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.
“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“We didn’t, right?”
“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”
“Father’s gonna kill us.”
“If not us, the monsters.”
Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.
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Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.
“Your Majesty.”
The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.
“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”
Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.
“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”
She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”
Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”
Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”
“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”
Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”
“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”
“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”
You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”
“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”
“Floyd.”
At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.
“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”
“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.
Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.
“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”
“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”
“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”
The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”
“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”
She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”
To that, no one could offer a smart reply.
“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”
“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”
“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.
Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”
“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”
“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”
Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”
“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”
“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.
“Let the grown-ups talk.”
Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”
Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”
Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.
You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.
“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”
Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.
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“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”
Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”
“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”
“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”
Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”
Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”
It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.
Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?
��I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”
Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”
Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”
“Because you tried to kill her.”
“Because she was in our territory!”
Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”
“He’s right, Floyd.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”
Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.
Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.
“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”
The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”
You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”
“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”
You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”
“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.
“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”
His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.
You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.
“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”
But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.
Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?
Why? Why? Why?
Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.
It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.
Floyd was right. You are a brat.
And yet he can’t hate you.
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On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.
Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.
“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”
He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.
“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.
More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.
Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.
“Happy birthday…”
“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”
Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.
“I want to start over.”
“Start over?”
“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”
You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.
“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”
Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”
You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”
I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.
“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”
“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”
“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”
“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”
“I’m not!”
You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.
“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.
“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”
“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”
With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.
“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.
“Don’t push it.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.
Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.
He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.
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Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.
Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.
This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.
Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.
“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”
By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.
The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.
It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.
You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.
You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…
Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?
Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.
Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.
You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.
Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?
And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.
“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”
Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”
“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”
Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”
“What’d Azul ever do to you?”
You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.
“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”
“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”
“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”
You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.
This is it. You’re dead.
…or not.
The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.
“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”
“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”
Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”
You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.
It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.
Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”
You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.
When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.
The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.
It’s a nightmare lived in real time.
Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.
Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?
Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.
“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”
“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”
“That was before the union.”
“I’m not letting it go.”
“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”
You don’t believe him.
“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”
You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”
“Legally, you are.”
“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”
“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”
Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.
“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”
A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.
“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”
“I love you.”
You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.
“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”
“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”
“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”
“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”
It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.
“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”
“N-No… Please stop. Please.”
“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”
Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.
The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.
“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”
Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”
Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”
A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.
“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”
You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.
Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”
“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”
“What a silly demand.”
He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”
“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”
You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.
He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.
You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.
“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.” 
But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.
In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.
“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”
Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”
Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.
The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.
“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”
Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”
Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.
He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.
You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”
“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”
He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.
“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”
Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.
“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.
It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.
1K notes · View notes
sommerbueckers · 2 months
Note
hii oml i love your writingggg, do you think you could do like paige x reader at a sleepover??? like a birthday kind of thing
𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤
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✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲...
✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟒𝐤
✰ 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐥. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !!
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"THIS IS HER HOUSE?" Amy questioned when the estate finally came into view. "Ask her parents if they're hiring."
Paige broke a smile for the first time that night, and she shook her head at her mother. However, this did nothing to rid her of the incessant anxious feeling she had experienced all day. For the first time, in all the years that she and Catherine Drago had been going to school together, she had been invited to her birthday sleepover.
It was a big deal, the biggest deal. Catherine didn't invite just anyone to her sleepover, typically it was just those in which she conversed with regularly. This year, that happened to include Paige. It had started with the accidental add of Paige's Snapchat account to one of Catherine's private stories, the blonde slid up on a picture of her with a sweet compliment, and it was all up from there.
Now, she sat outside of the girl's residence as she worked up to courage to simply exit the car. Her mother placed a comforting hand on her leg, rubbing up and down the way most mothers often did.
"You nervous?" she asked softly.
Paige, leaning her head back on the seat, nodded quietly. "It's just that I don't have any of my best friends here, like, they probably all know each other and i'm just gonna be feelin' awkward..."
Amy wore a sympathetic expression as she listened to her daughter's concerns. "Well you're friends with Catherine aren't you? You're here for her, not everybody else."
"Yeah but I didn't think we were even close enough for her to invite me," Paige said. A lie. Paige didn't think she'd get invited because of the way she and Catherine talked to each other. They texted nonstop, about anything and everything. But as of recently, their conversations had had more of an intimate feel. They talked about their sex life, about their personal kinks and turn-ons, and Catherine had even shared a picture or two.
Not to mention the 'birthday gift' that Paige had told her she would get, Paige was drunk that night.
She wanted it to be just her and Catherine, not her, Catherine, and Catherine's friends.
"How about this, you go in there and try your best to have fun. And then in one hour, if you're still not having fun and want me to come get you, I will," Amy posed.
"Really?" Paige asked incredulously.
"Really."
Paige nodded her head in agreement, deciding that the offer was suitable enough for her. Giving her mom a quick kiss and hug goodbye, she stepped out of the car and made her way up to the large glass door.
She could see into the house entirely. The floors were a cream colored wood that seemed to be freshly polished, there was a living room off to the right where an incredibly large couch sat. It looked like something you'd see displayed in a furniture shop, clean and untouched. The house as a whole looked like nobody lived there, like it was simply there to take up space on the property.
To the left was a floating staircase leading up to a second floor that Paige couldn't see much of from her place outside. The most she could see was a glass railing that went across the edge of the floor. She swallowed her anxiety and rung the doorbell, the sound echoing throughout the house as well as outside.
Her mom's car remained parked in the circular driveway, waiting for her to be retrieved from the front of the house before she pulled off. She hadn't been standing out there for long, perhaps all of thirty seconds had passed before a brown skinned woman appeared in view. She was coming from around a corner deep within the house, her steps hasty as she made her way over to the door.
"You must be Paige!" the woman greeted with a smile, to which Paige nodded her head. "Come inside. Is that your mom?"
"Yeah."
The woman gave a polite wave to the car before Amy drove off, leaving the woman to close the door and turn her attention to Paige.
"It's nice to finally meet you! I'm Mrs Drago but you can call me Phoebe or Catie's mom or whatever you'd like," the woman laughed.
Paige nodded her head, shifting uncomfortably under the woman's gaze. She tried to focus on what Phoebe no Catie's mom no whatever the woman wanted to be called was saying, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking about how good she looked for a mom. She was fit with a slender face and model cheekbones, at least now Paige knew where Catherine got her looks from.
"The girls are upstairs in Catie's room, it's the double doors at the end of the hallway," she pointed up at the glass railing Paige had seen earlier, encouraging her to go up.
She ascended the staircase holding onto nothing but the blanket and pillow she had brought seeing as though nobody had bothered to extend the glass railing to the steps as well. The hallway was more of a loft area that lacked furniture; the flooring up here was marble with recess lighting illuminating the way to every room. Paige zeroed in on the double doors at the end, Catherine's room.
One of the two doors had a keypad lock on it, what the fuck...The blonde knocked softly and listened to the faint chatter and shuffling that occurred on the other side of the door before it opened. She was met with Catherine's unexpressive face, a feature that changed rather quickly upon realizing it was Paige that stood before her. She smiled brightly, flashing her pearly whites at the taller girl, and pulled her in for a hug. It lasted longer than it should've.
She smells good, like coconut and vanilla.
"So glad you could make it..." she murmured, dragging her hand across Paige's stomach as she pulled away. Opening the door, she allowed Paige access into the room. To say it was huge would've been the understatement of the century. There was a small couch in the front where another blonde sat mutely, a bottle of red nail polish in her hand as she went over her nails again. There was a vase of flowers on the coffee table in front of her, it was surrounded by loads of other miscellaneous things like card games and jewelry.
The fireplace, which Paige later learned was gas which Catherine hated, was turned on despite the eighty degree temperature outside. The tv played an episode of Grey's Anatomy, the girls had turned it on just before Paige's knock at the door. Behind the mini living room were two steps that led up to the king sized bed, the covers were all over the place and there were a few pillows lying around on the floor. Paige's scrutiny of the room was interrupted when Catherine's voice grabbed her attention.
"Do you live far from here?" she had made herself comfortable on the couch now, her head resting in the unnamed blonde's lap.
Paige set her things down beside the couch, shrugging her shoulders, "Kinda, like...twenty minutes maybe."
Catherine hummed in response.
The three girls remained quiet for a few moments, Meredith Grey's voice being the only thing between them and a silence thicker than a heavy fog. Paige was overcome with the thought that she was the only one feeling awkward. Catherine and this other blonde were casually laid out on the couch, something Paige figured they did often. She would too with a room like Catherine's.
Her eyes traveled up and down the girl's soft, smooth legs. At least that was the feeling they gave off when Catherine rubbed them against each other on the couch, almost teasingly. Paige bit her lip gently, frantically moving her gaze between Catherine's legs and the blonde's eyes to make sure she wasn't caught.
Catherine, thankfully noticing Paige's hesitation to do anything other than stand at the edge of the couch rather than her wandering eyes, invited her to sit down. She slightly readjusted herself so that she was still laid out but wasn't invading Paige's personal space. Paige would've liked her to, invade her space that is. But the dark haired girl was feeling unusually nervous now that she was actually in front of Paige instead of talking with her through the phone.
It wasn't long before a beeping could be heard from the door and four new faces appeared behind it. Three boys and one girl. Paige had to admit she would've liked it to just be the three of them, it was hard enough trying to settle her nerves with Catherine and one other friend. Now she would be forced to do it with four more. It was then that she remembered the words of her mother, and how she really only needed to stay for an hour.
Would it be rude to leave?
The room erupted in cheers as the boys jumped on top of Catherine, burying her beneath their bodies. Her protests were muffled as she fought to push them off.
"Will you guys chill? I'm trying to do my nails," the blonde grumbled, scooting over with the nastiest face Paige had ever seen.
One of the boys rolled off the couch, "Try a little harder, they look like shit."
She flipped him off with a freshly painted nail, her nose scrunching up at the mere sight of him smiling above her. The rest of the boys followed suit as they got up off of the couch, brushing themselves off. Another guy, pushing his soft brown hair out of the way turned to Paige and smiled goofily. "You look unfamiliar," he commented.
Catherine snorted, "Guys this is Paige, she goes to my school. Paige this is Zane, Theo, Malachi, and Sasha."
She gave them a small wave, not knowing what else to do since there were too many to greet one by one.
"I thought you hated everyone at your school," Malachi frowned, squeezing himself between Paige and Catherine.
Catherine frowned, she wanted to sit next to Paige.
"I hate everyone except Paige," she clarified, giving the girl a cheeky wink.
Everyone made themselves comfortable somewhere in the living area, whether it was on the couch or in front of the fire. Paige was even warming up, now finding herself in a conversation with Malachi and Zane about basketball.
"What position do you play again?" Zane frowned, his blonde eyebrows scrunching together.
"Point guard."
"I remember my point guard days, I was a beast!" he reminisced humorously.
"Yeah in the fourth grade," Malachi chimed in.
"You're committed to UConn right?" Zane asked, ignoring the other boy.
"Yeah, how'd you know?" Paige smiled.
"Cat talks about you all the time," he shrugged.
At this, Catherine shot up from her position on the couch and slapped the back of his buzzed blonde head. "No I don't!" she argued.
He stood abruptly, and rubbing the now burning patch on his head he said, "Yes you do! I literally remember you saying-"
"Okay!" The blonde girl interjected, "Can we please play a game or something? I'm bored."
"Just go back to painting your nails Noella, the grown ups are speaking," Zane gestured to himself, Catherine, Malachi, and Paige.
"Well in that case you should sit your ass down," she snapped.
"What game?" Malachi asked.
Just like that, the topic of Catherine's incessant talk of Paige had been dropped. Dropped by everyone except the two girls who now stared at each other with pleasant smiles. The group gathered around in a circle and Uno cards were disputed amongst them, everyone audibly reacting to their own deck.
Paige seated herself beside Catherine, nudging her shoulder. "You talk about me huh?" she laughed.
"Zane blows everything out of proportion, i've mentioned you like once or twice," Catherine dismissed simply. It was a lie. Catherine talked about Paige like a proud girlfriend, boasting about how great of a basketball player her new friend was and how good she looked while playing.
Paige nodded simply, not wanting to tease Catherine too much but also taking pride in the fact that the girl talked about her.
They played games for a hefty chunk of the night, stuffing their faces with pizza and cookies and whatever else Catherine's kitchen had to offer. Paige was surprised to discover that the boys were sleeping over as well, though they were in a separate room, she couldn't ever imagine either of her parents allowing something like that.
When the time came for everyone to settle down and get ready for bed, Noella and Sasha disappeared into the bathroom while Paige and Catherine waited in the bed.
"Do you wanna shower tonight?" Catherine asked her suddenly, switching off her phone.
"Yeah, sure. Are you gonna shower?"
"Mhm," Catherine nodded. "It shouldn't take them that long in there cus they're in there together so..." her voice trailed off as she shrugged.
Paige frowned, switching her own phone off as she turned to Catherine. "What do you mean?"
"They're showering together," she laughed, "we do it all the time 'cus we grew up together 'n' stuff."
Paige's lips parted as she went to respond, but at the last second she decided not to. They shower together...What kinda shit is that? Never in life had Paige ever considered showering with someone she saw as just a friend. Showering was your private time to clean yourself and all the parts of you that no one else was supposed to see, to share that time with someone else was intimate, wasn't it?
"Sometimes we just go ahead and finger each other too," Catherine revealed, and Paige's eyebrows shot to meet her hairline. "Kidding! Holy shit i'm kidding, we don't do that."
The pair burst into laughter, using it as an excuse to touch and grab at each other. Catherine ended up with her hand on Paige's knee, toying around with the thread of the sweatpants she was wearing. She smiled slightly, "You believed me for a second though."
"I definitely did," Paige nodded, "was finna grab my bags and go," she joked.
Catherine smirked, "You don't like that?"
"Like what?"
"Fingering."
The energy in the room shifted quickly with just that one word, both girls now staring at each other in silence. Paige couldn't help but feel like Catherine was asking for reasons other than being genuinely interested, and she wanted to give her what she wanted.
"Not my friends...no," the blonde shook her head.
"You don't like it or you've just never done it?" Catherine questioned further, rolling off of the bed and heading over to her dresser. She rummaged around through the drawers for some pajamas as she waited for Paige to respond to her forward question.
If Paige didn't have a crush on the girl, she would've been uncomfortable by the topic, but since that wasn't the case, she provided her with an answer. "I've never done it."
Catherine laughed sweetly, her back still turned. Paige stared at her legs again and the way her jeans shorts cupped her ass perfectly, two gold stars on the back pockets. Paige wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers up and down those legs, how Catherine's ass would fit into her hand as she squeezed it during a passionate kiss. She wanted to see her tits, her back, she wanted to explore every part of the girl standing before her.
She pulled out a pair of lacy panties and a white tank top, tossing them onto the bed and sitting back down. Paige didn't know how she was going to keep it together all night if Catherine was planning to walk around in the pieces of string she had just gotten out. However, after taking a closer look at them, she noticed how familiar they looked. They were the same pair that she had been wearing in the very first picture that Paige had received from her.
Catherine looked at her, waiting for her to say something. She knew, Paige knew, they both knew, and yet their smiles were the only telling factors.
When the sound of the shower cut off, Catherine glanced in the direction of the bathroom. She slowly got up off of the bed and grabbed her clothes (if you could even call them that).
"I'm gonna shower..." she told her.
Something in Paige's eyes darkened as she watched her back up toward the bathroom door. She got up as well, her own pajamas in her hand as she backed up to the other bathroom door.
"I think i'm gonna shower too...After you though 'cus...I don't shower with my friends," Paige smirked knowingly.
"Right, totally understood."
✰ ✰ ✰
Paige couldn't keep her eyes off of Catherine's wet, soapy body. Though she had to admit, she wasn't trying that hard either. The shower was big enough for an entire family of people and yet the girls still found themselves mere inches away from each other. Catherine was standing under one of the shower heads, her eyes closed and head tilted in the air.
Keep it together.
Paige had repeated those three words in her head over and over again, the task proving to be more difficult with every second that passed. She wanted to pin Catherine against the wall and take her right there, but she wouldn't. Not until she got the green light.
She wondered whether that was the direction this shower was going in, did Catherine want to hook up or was she just this close with all her friends? But Paige wasn't just a friend, was she?
Those messages say otherwise...
Brown eyes fluttered open, and Catherine smiled coyly at Paige. She stepped out from under the water and closer to the blonde, her head tilted slightly upward to meet her eyes.
"Are you okay?" she whispered.
Paige nodded, "Are you?"
She hesitated before slowly shaking her head.
"What's wrong?" the blonde frowned.
"You haven't given me my birthday gift yet..."
How had Catherine known that Paige had even gotten her anything? For all she knew, it was just a card with some money slipped inside. But Paige wasn't that inconsiderate, she had gotten her a jelly cheek tint from Sephora, but Catherine couldn't have known that. And she didn't, because that wasn't the gift Catherine was talking about.
Paige hid her surprise at the mention of the drunken promise, that entire conversation between the girls had been a blur for her. It was a couple weeks ago, Paige had been at a party while she was texting Catherine, their conversation quickly turning sexual the more Paige had to drink. She didn't think Catherine had taken it seriously, but she probably should've expected it.
"It's not your birthday yet," Paige smirked.
"Don't fuck with me," Catherine mumbled, crashing her lips onto Paige's.
The smacking of their lips was drowned out by the water coming down hard around them. They moved in sync with each other, grabbing thirstily at one another. Paige couldn't decide what to do with her hands, she wanted to grab her neck, to hug her waist, to smack her ass.
The scent of her shampoo was overwhelming to Paige, she felt herself drowning in it as she kissed her, pulling her in deeper. There was a sense of urgency between them, at any second they could be interrupted by one of the girls outside. They couldn't risk that happening, they had waited all night for this.
Catherine backed up into the wall, dragging the blonde with her without ever disconnecting their lips. Paige tasted amazing, Catherine could say that without a doubt for she was exploring every inch of the girl's mouth. Her tongue moved with ease as she maneuvered it around Paige's own, the kiss becoming sloppy.
A string of spit stretched between their mouths when Paige briefly pulled away only to attach her lips to Catherine's jaw instead. She sucked harshly in any spot that Catherine reacted to. Paige licked a straight line from her neck up to her ear, placing a kiss right underneath it.
"Been waitin' all night for this huh?" she teased, her hands trailing slowly down Catherine's body. She was holding the taller girl impossibly close, releasing breathless moans the more attention that Paige paid to her neck. "Been wantin' me?"
Catherine had her arms draped over Paige's shoulders, one hand tangled in her hair while the other dug deep into her skin. She mumbled incoherently in response to Paige, the cold glass on her back and the warmth of Paige on her front sending her into a clouded state. Paige's hands snaked down to her ass, spanking it hard before following up with a soothing rub.
She did it again, and again, and again until Catherine was a whining, begging mess.
"Please Paige," she panted heavily, "need you so bad..."
"What do you need?"
"Need you to fuck me."
Paige laughed tauntingly, "Spread your legs," she demanded.
Catherine obliged pitifully quickly, one of her legs hooking around Paige's body.
Paige ran her fingers through Catherine's sopping slit, relishing in the way the shorter girl shuddered in her grasp. Her thumb toyed around with her swollen clit whilst she began to tease her entrance with her fingertips. Paige stared darkly into her eyes, unconsciously biting her lip at the pleading look that Catherine was giving her.
"What's the magic word?" the blonde smirked mockingly.
"Mmm, please," Catherine whined.
"Louder."
"Please Paige just fuck me!"
Paige watched in accomplishment at the way Catherine's face contorted in pleasure when she inserted her fingers. The blonde nodded her head understandingly, "Yeah that feels good doesn't it?" she cooed.
"Yes," the curly head sighed out.
Just as quickly as she had pulled them out, she thrusted them back in. Catherine unwillingly whimpered.
"This what you wanted?" Paige asked darkly. "For me to fuck you on your birthday, hm?"
Catherine matched the rhythm of Paige's fingers as she moved her hips against them. Paige stared deep into her eyes as she fucked her, their foreheads pressed together to stay grounded. A burning sensation erupted on Paige's back, the shower water was coming in contact with the scratches that Catherine was leaving. She used it as motivation to go faster, plunging into her so hard and so fast that Catherine's legs began to tremble.
She clung onto Paige for dear life, one of her hands slamming against the glass door behind her as Paige fucked her into it. The other was hooked under Paige's arm and gripping her shoulder.
"Yesyesyes," Catherine mumbled in hastened breaths, "so fucking good, so fucking good."
"You gonna cum mama?"
"Yes, keep going."
Paige noticed the way Catherine's walls were clenching around her, and she nodded her head encouragingly.
"C'mon," she urged, "c'mon."
The other girl elicited moans that Paige had never heard in her entire life. They were uncontrollable as Catherine's body writhed and squirmed. The most guttural noises left her mouth and filled the bathroom and Paige muffled them with the palm of her hand. She slowed the pace of her fingers and let Catherine ride out her orgasm before completely removing them.
The younger girl was out of breath, her chest heaving up and down at a rate quicker than usual.
Paige held onto her, rubbing her back softly as she calmed down. She kissed the top of her head, "Are you okay?"
"Mhm," she nodded into her chest.
They stood in silence, holding each other and placing small kisses on each other's foreheads and shoulders.
"We should probably wash again," Catherine laughed shyly.
Paige smiled, "Yeah we should." She ruffled the wet curls of the pretty girl in front of her, "Happy early Birthday Catherine."
___________________________________________________________
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pepperyduck · 1 month
Text
cheater, pt.2 - satoru gojo
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word count: 1.2k
warnings: heartbroken gojo, jealousy, spiteful cheating, descriptions of suguru geto x reader, marriage problems, pathetic gojo. (18+ mdni!)
notes: gosh thank u for all the love on the last part!!! please read pt. 1 before this one, or don't, it's rly up to u.
you can find part one here
masterlist
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multitudes of shopping bags rustle when you enter your home, a home that’s been silent for months now since satoru left you for his girlfriend. he didn’t actually leave, traces of him still lingered around the house from time to time when he wasn’t out with her, but those encounters remained faint traces, you had barely spoken to him unless it was to discuss something important.
you had mostly talked to satoru about a possible divorce – he brought the subject up after weeks of his girlfriend begging him to be with her for good now.
“your parents will disown you, satoru,” you had said, physically ignoring the man that sat across the kitchen from you, “and mine will hate you. plus, you don’t make that much money now, anyway.” you passively insulted the man. satoru agreed, however, his parents adored you since birth, and divorce was one of the things they wouldn’t put up with. the marriage started for convenience, and it would stay that way until one of you mustered up the courage to make a divorce final.
the current situation wasn’t all bad, though, it was an agreement without words that you and satoru lived married while he had his fun. and with the more fun he had, the less you began to care. it was the first time in your life you were genuinely able to focus on yourself without a husband to worry about. you concocted many hobbies, you learned how to cook healthier – no longer having to adjust your tastes to satoru’s liking – and decided to hit the gym a few days a week. progress started slowly, but you could see the tone in your body begin to show after a few months.
now, you had time to think about your appearance more, you tried new things with your hair and makeup, you bought a new wardrobe to fit your liking better. your old clothes stayed pushed to the side, growing wrinkly as you filled your closet up with better designer brands, you no longer worried about what satoru thought of you. satoru had moved his things into a different room, leaving you the space of the master bedroom to fill up with décor you fancied. your confidence grew more than ever, beginning to feel beautiful after a while.
you were always beautiful, of course, but it’s a much better feeling when you can see it in the mirror.
deciding to give your husband a taste of his own medicine, you start to date around and dip your toes into the wonderful world of hookups and first dates. you think it’s insane how easily men are on their knees, begging for you to go on a date with them, just one date, please! you got better treatment over the course of a month than you ever had with satoru; men would vow their loyalty to you, something satoru never did, obviously.
after satoru’s refusal to divorce you, his girlfriend left him, but the fact was unknown to you. sure, you noticed him moping around the house more often, but you figured he finally got tired of her and needed space. but his time at home forced him to see you come home with all kinds of guys, ones that were taller, handsomer, and stronger than him.
satoru saw the change in you, and god, he had never felt so in love with you since you found your new confidence and style. you were simply ravishing, and now satoru feels a pang of guilt for failing to realize what he had in front of him for so long.
the envy that boiled in his chest was a new feeling for him. he never thought he would be jealous of you giving him the same treatment he had been giving you. yet, there he was, watching from the kitchen as you giggle wrapped in someone else’s arms, furiously making out in the entryway without paying any mind to satoru. it bothered him.
and, oh boy, when you walk through the door with his ex-best friend from college, suguru, satoru swears he could go crazy.
satoru’s eyes focus their attention from some tv dinner to the door when you and suguru stumble though, laughing and carried away in one another’s presence. he had never seen you feel so alive, not even when you didn’t know he was cheating, you never acted that way with him. satoru has a look in his eyes the instant he sees you, the same look he had when he was about to kill someone, a crazed, insane look.
suguru flips you around and pins you to the wall, so he’s facing right at satoru, and he looks him in the eyes as he fiercely makes out with you.
if satoru had a gun, he’d point it right at the both of you.
yet he doesn’t have a gun, or anything really, just a fit of jealously growing stronger and stronger the more you make out with someone that hurt him so badly.
so this is what it feels like, huh?
satoru stands up and slams his chair back under the table, only growing angry when it doesn’t seem to phase you at all. he goes upstairs and slams the door to his room shut when he enters. he doesn’t…he can’t do anything. he can’t stop you from having free will, and he definitely can’t call you out for doing the same thing to him that he did to you. he sits down on the bed, a bed he should’ve been sharing with you, and he tangles his fingers in his hair, insecure thoughts clouding his mind.
for once in his life, the smug bastard known as satoru gojo was pitiful.
the screams of suguru’s name keep satoru up until the early hours of the morning.
the next day, you’re cooking breakfast later in the morning after suguru leaves. it feels like a very successful night. satoru walks into the kitchen, having had a sleepless night, and plops down at the table while he stares at you.
you’re so perfect, you always have been, why did he have to be so stupid about ruining his marriage with the perfect woman?
“so, suguru, huh?” satoru questions, crossing his arms.
“hmm?” you hum, viciously smiling inside because the bothered tone satoru had was so deliciously obvious.
“listen,” satoru starts, hesitating for a moment because he might pity himself for the way he’s about to speak to you. “i’m…sorry,” he mutters, almost inaudible, sighing afterwards.
you glance over your shoulder, seeing your husband look so tired and…hurt?
“don’t apologize, satoru. you and i both know it’s much too late for that now,” you aptly reply, “you should’ve thought about that long ago.”
your words are a knife in satoru’s chest, and it only feels as if you’re stabbing him over and over the more you speak, looking away from him again to focus on the stovetop.
“don’t apologize to me because you feel bad now. you’re only saying sorry because your feelings are the ones getting hurt this time,” your words send waves of guilt, sadness, and downright pain through your husbands body, “and quite frankly, i don’t care.”
satoru wants to retort, he wants to reply with something smug but his mind draws a blank as he only stares at you, ultimately betrayed by his own actions — his once kind, sweet wife has left him behind in a mess of himself.
his apologies no longer mean anything to you. you’ve grown too strong for satoru. he’ll continue to be a pathetic mess, until one day, hopefully, you choose to forgive him for what he’s done.
maybe you will, maybe you won’t. it’s up for you to decide.
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taglist: @kalopsia-flaneur @painted-hills @kundere20000000
let me know if u wanna be added!
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runa-falls · 9 months
Text
cocktails
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gif from @pirateherokillian
pairing: jake lockley x shy!reader
summary: you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend
cw: explicit (18+), dub-con (reader is tipsy), afab!reader, dry humping to piv pipeline, fingering, multiple orgasms, longing/pining losers, love (?), push-over!jake, needy!reader, 'just the tip' is never just the tip, alcohol consumption, pet names, daddy kink, creampie, fluff :3 -- not beta-read
wc: 5.1k
a/n: pls, it was never supposed to be this long. i'm sorry for taking FOREVER to write this. anyways, this is based off my blabbering in discord -- i dedicate this to my whores (affectionate) <3
mk masterlist | main masterlist
----
You don’t drink. 
At least not in front of Jake. 
Alcohol makes you…indulgent, to say the least, and that’s a side you’ve been holding back from your best friend. 
Yes, you’ve had a drink or two at some group hangouts in the past, but this, you, Jake, and a few bottles of gifted wine, surprisingly has never happened in the past. You’ve made sure of it.
What almost makes it worse is that Jake’s always been a sweetheart about your choices to avoid drinking around him. After your first few bouts of excuses and timid declines, he doesn’t pressure you to keep up with him when he’s knocking back shots or drinking pitchers of beer. 
Whenever your other friends press another drink into your hand, he subtly takes it for you, drinking it in large gulps before returning the glass from your hand. And when he pulls away, his fingers always find a way to graze against yours. Thankfully the bars are usually dimly lit so he can’t see the blush heating at your cheeks. 
He doesn’t realize it’s because of him. He’s the reason bartenders give you weird looks when you ask for watered-down vodka cranberries or why you’re always the last one standing in your friend group whenever you go out. This restraint around alcohol has gone on for years all because you harbor an intense attraction for your best friend. 
It didn’t start that way. He crashed into your quiet life and obliterated the dynamics of your friend group. When you first met him, you thought his cocky and blasé attitude was overcompensating for something.
He’s always been a natural sweet talker, not afraid to approach people and get what he wants, but it seemed too good to be true. He’s too charismatic, too interested in the dull life you live, how did he dig out a hole and place himself so easily in your life?
Easily, too easily, you fell for his sweet words, words that would inevitably draw you into his orbit and leave you hanging off of every syllable. 
You learned that no matter what he says, or does, he’s just being friendly. He’s just like that with everyone. It means nothing when he gives you a cheeky grin from across the bar or when he consistently insists on walking you home at night. Sure, he might stick closer to your side than anyone else's, but it’s just because you’re best friends. Right?
Of course, girls have tried and failed to lock down your best friend, misinterpreting his outgoing personality as him propositioning them. And they always come to you – whining over his lack of interest, the sudden and unexpected rejection of their advances, and grappling for any advice from his girl best friend. 
“He’s single, isn’t he?” The words are said over the thin rim of a martini glass. She glances over at you with hopeful eyes framed by beautifully dark lashes. 
You barely knew the girl’s name, but she offered to buy you a drink (a shirley temple) so you stayed for the conversation, however, you weren’t expecting the topic to circle back to Jake. But after watching her down a couple of martinis, gushing more and more about the man you’ve been pining after for an eon, you felt too bad to leave her. 
“Um…as far as I know.” It’s a little uncomfortable, talking about Jake like you’re his keeper.
“Then – then why won’t he go out – or even hook up with me?” Her voice has gotten louder with the exasperation of her inquiries. You look around at the bar, hoping she can keep it together before you’re kicked out for causing a ruckus. 
“Look, I don’t know if I’m the best –”
“But you’re his best friend, right?”
“Yes, but –”
“What’s his type?”
His type?
God, you wish you knew. It would make things a lot easier for yourself (and the world). But you genuinely don’t know. You’ve never seen him with a girl. Sure, he could be hooking up on the side, but why would he tell you?
You look down at your glass. All that’s left is ice, melting into an amalgam of pink-tinted liquid around the one maraschino cherry you refuse to eat. 
“I don’t know.” You mumble.
You’re already through a bottle and a half, lounging comfortably on the overstuffed couch in your living room. Something is playing on the TV but it’s all a blur behind the feeling of his thigh pressing against yours. 
Jake has never been afraid of showing his affection through physical means, whether it’s greeting ladies with a friendly peck on the cheek or ruffling one of the guy’s hair when he goes by. It’s natural to him. Casual.
But with you, he’s mostly hands-off. 
It’s not that you deign to feel his touch, to feel the scratchiness of his whiskers rub against the edge of your hairline, or lower against the sensitive skin of your throat, you just can’t control your reactions when he does it. Even the light touch of his hand against your lower back when he guides you has you standing straighter. 
He noticed your strong reactions to him and backed off, assuming you were uncomfortable or unused to friendly touches. And it was fine until you would do anything to feel him against you again, just one more time. It’s desperate, really, but you don’t really care when he looks at you with those cocoa-butter eyes. 
And now, he’s closer than ever but still hands-off. He politely sits next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other in his lap. But not touching you. 
He’s been making commentary about the dumb hallmark movie you impulsively rented, pointing out all the unrealistic plot conveniences and bright red flags that the main character blatantly ignores. He seems relaxed. 
You aren’t.
Two stained wine glasses sit on the coffee table, dangerously close to the edge, still holding a sip of liquid. You can barely make out the intricate print of his lips on the edge of the cup, highlighted by the brightness of the hallmark snow scene. 
You want so badly to steal the glass away and lick up the residual bitter-sweetness of the wine that’s touched his lips. To taste him, even indirectly. Or directly. Lick the sweetness straight from the source, tongue intermingling with him as he takes just as much from you. You feel yourself pulse from that image alone.
“Bunny?” Heat prickles against the back of your neck as you realize how far away your brain is, thinking such filthy and depraved thoughts of the man who is sitting right next to you. 
He dotes on you like a person would their favorite pet cat. He calls you pet names, ones that make you bite your tongue and hide your face in your hands. Bunny was the first one and the one he uses the most. 
It came out of nowhere, really. You were both at a small house party and Jake convinced you to join his team in a game of beer pong. You were still a bit nervous around him, still surprised when he’d seek you out for a conversation or to get your opinion on something entirely irrelevant. 
You told him upfront that your hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, but he was determined to teach you. The first few throws were pitiful, so pitiful, in fact, that the other team gave you a freebie to make up for it. 
“Here, lemme give you a hand.” You couldn’t even react before he was sidled behind you, his chest nearly flush against your shoulder as his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your body is frozen, soaking in the overwhelming closeness.
You can barely decipher the individual cups of beer with his voice low behind your ear as he directs you, “Keep it right….there” He lets go of your arm and you already miss his touch, “and put a little more power into your throw.” 
He steps back, giving you space to take a breath and refocus. 
You throw it, more mechanical than you would’ve liked, but it – miraculously – goes in. 
Immediately you turn around to get his reaction, the praise that you secretly crave from a man you barely know. 
He grins down at you, “You’re a natural, bunny.” 
And the nickname stuck.
You look over at him, lazily blinking up to meet his fond gaze, “Hm?” You feel all fuzzy inside, overexcited yet pinned down by the unexplainable need to stay close to him. 
He smirks down at you, arm subtly lowering to barely touch the back of your head, “What’cha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” You try to lean into the feeling of his arm, hoping that if you ease into it, he won’t notice. “You had this… faraway look in your eyes for a moment.”
Oh, he noticed. But there’s no way he knows what you were thinking, right? A flash of embarrassment stings hot in your cheeks. You don’t think when you shyly nuzzle your face into his bicep to avoid his curious eyes, “I think I just zoned out or something.”
He hums, “You tired?” You turn your face to look at him, cheek resting against him. God, he smells so good. You never want to move from this spot. “Want me to tuck you in?” His voice coos teasingly, but you soak in the sweetness of it. He can be so soft sometimes.
Scrambled words echo in your mind: But if you go to bed, you’ll leave. You’ll take your arm out from under me and leave me here to think about you, all alone. Why can’t you just – Your thoughts quickly dissipate when he pulls you closer to him, hand at your waist to press your body against his.
Your hand presses delicately against his chest in surprise and you can barely feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat underneath the firmness of his muscles.
You softly shake your head, “Not tired.”
“Sure, baby.” 
Baby. 
That’s new. 
Your thighs involuntarily press together with how good it sounds coming from his lips. Directed at you. Somehow, even with all the pet names he’s given you throughout the span of your friendship, this one hits home.
He says it with the casualness of a boyfriend and tenderness of a lover. You can almost feel him panting it against the crook of your neck as he pushes inside of you, hand clutching yours as his hips roll perfectly against yours. 
You don’t even realize your legs are rubbing together like a cricket at dusk until a warm hand wraps around the top of your thigh. He pulls them apart, spreading your legs like you’ve always dreamed he would. Despite the suggestive position, you still whine at the loss of friction, thoughtlessly fighting against the insisting tug of his hand.
He hushes you gently, a soft tone barely easing your frustration. You latch your fingers onto his wrist, attempting to guide him to the spot that you really need him to touch, but he barely budges. His grip on your thigh tightens when his name drips brokenly from your lips. 
“J-Jake…” 
“Sweetheart, stop.”
“But –”
“Please.” Jake looks down at you with a pained expression, all past chivalry betrayed by the darkness pooled in his eyes.
You look up at him with misty eyes and flushed skin, innocence in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” You bite your lip at your admission, stained red from the wine, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You pull at him again and this time he lets you. Both of you look down as his hand cups you over your shorts.
“You’re too drunk right now.” The whispered attempt of resistance falls on deaf ears as you arch your hips into his touch. Neither of you notice that the movie ended, leaving you in a silence where only the exchange of breathless pants can be heard. 
“Touch me.” You whine, desperate for anything. Desperate just to be accepted by him.
His gaze briefly flicks up from where he’s touching to regard your eagerness with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s looking for answers on the blank wall next to him. “I…shouldn’t.” 
You start to panic when you feel his hand pull away. It can’t end like this. You hold onto his wrist when a particularly needy idea pops into your mind. If he doesn’t want to ‘defile’ you, then fine. You’ll do it yourself.
“I…c-could i just rub myself against you?” You berate yourself for sounding so meek, so unsure, but you’ve never done anything like this before, never had to take control of the situation. “Like, if you don’t want to…um, touch me.” He looks at you wordlessly, gorgeous lips parted at your suggestion.
His tongue brushes over his bottom lip, “I– Okay, sure…” 
With his permission, you push up against the couch to get up and straddle over him. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting it with how his hands barely hover over your body like he’s unsure whether he wants to pull you closer or shove you off his lap. “Is this okay?” 
“Yeah.” He sounds strained, “But just for a little bit, alright?” 
“Ok.” You promise though you’re sure that once you get a taste, you’ll never want to stop. You have to make this good for him so he’ll want you back.
You settle against him, body thrumming with anticipation when your clothed cunt meets the prominent hardness under his jeans. So he does want it. His hands clasp onto your waist when you start to move over him, hips experimentally rolling against his.
Jake watches you move over him with a look of deep hunger and awe. It’s endearing how shy you are, even now grinding on his lap. Your movements are clumsy – unpracticed as you desperately try to chase that spark that’ll satisfy the heat buried deep down inside of you. 
“That good, baby?” 
You nod, mewling quietly as the seam of his jeans drags perfectly against your clit. Pleasure pools in your stomach, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You hold onto his shoulders as you work yourself over him, panting from your effort. He starts to cant his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, pressing his erection roughly against your core to show you just how much he wants you. 
All you can think of is how good it would feel to have him bare against you, skin to skin. When you meet your peak, body hot and trembling as you rub against him, the end never comes. It’s not enough. You’re just left teetering at the top with no drop in sight.
You huff, “Jake, can I – just…please.” You let your hands drop from his shoulders to start working on his belt.
“What is it bunny, what do you need?” He looks so good under you with his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned just so to give you a peak of his collarbone and the newly open belt hanging from the loops in his tight jeans. You undo the button, fingers briefly fumbling as your knuckle brushes against his bulge.
“Just need to feel you.” You paw at the waist of his pants, trying to subtly indicate that you need his help to take them off. But he sits there and smiles sweetly at your frustrated huffs. 
“And what about me?” He says in a teasing drawl. He drags you closer to him and cups your face until your lips nearly meet yours. He’s so close that you can make out the light dusting of freckles that grace his nose and cheeks. Amber eyes bore into yours as he whispers, “You’re using my body and haven’t even given me a kiss yet.”
“Oh.” Your gaze drops to his lips, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, baby.” He leans in, “just kiss me.” Your eyes flutter close when you meet the softness of his lips. You immediately melt into the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw with a sigh as he desperately keeps you close. 
Jake groans, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, a taste of pure heaven melting on the tip of his tongue, before hungrily deepening the kiss. He licks against the seam of your mouth, begging you to open yourself up to him. You surrender yourself to him, letting him slide in and taste you from the inside out. 
Your hands move up from his shoulders to his soft curls, tugging eagerly in an attempt to hear the soft groan that rumbles in his chest. He nips at your bottom lip, suckling it until it’s pink and tender, wanting to leave a mark so you’ll always think of him. He can’t help but press against you when you whimper for him, grinding eagerly against your center, wishing he was inside of you instead.  
“Just the tip.” You mumble it against his lips. He’s too far gone to clearly hear what you said, lost in a thick fog of awe, lust, and…love. At his silence, you pull away to look at him, scared you’re asking for too much. “Jake.” He nods thoughtlessly, chasing your lips, already missing your taste. He almost whines when you pull away from his touch, but quickly comes back to reality when he sees the way you’re nervously looking at him. 
He squeezes your waist comfortingly, “Anything you want, bunny.” You smile at the pet name and gratefully peck his lips. He tries to deepen the kiss, hand already pressing against the back of your head, but you cheekily pull away before he gets too far. You stand up, ignoring his objections and clingy touches as you get off of his lap. 
You fluidly slip your shirt over your head before carelessly dropping it to the floor behind you. There’s fire in his eyes as he sits back on the couch and watches you reveal the cute bra that cups you so perfectly. You tease the edge of your waistband as you look down at him, “Off, please.” You gesture at his jeans. He follows your directions, quickly shimmying his pants off, eyes on you the whole time.
You follow him, tugging your shorts off to show him the matching panties. You squeak when warm hands abruptly pull you to the couch, eagerly wandering over your waist and hips as he buries his face against your neck. 
“Can’t help it, baby,” His touch drifts up to cup the underside of your tits, trailing carefully over the curve to memorize the shape of you. “You’re just so fucking pretty.” He groans hot and heavy against your neck as he squeezes your softness. 
You’re back on top of him, naked thighs draped over his, skin against skin, and now, you can feel all of him. He’s pressed so deliciously against your core, pulsing with pure desire and heat. The only thing separating the two of you is fading self-control and a pair of thin panties.
His mustache tickles against your throat as his lips drift over your pulse point. He presses heady kisses against the edge of your jaw, gauging where your most tender spots are. 
“Oh–!” Your thighs clench around him when he touches a particularly delicate area near your ear. He gently nips at the spot, holding you tighter when you moan at the feeling.
Jake lets out a broken groan when you reach between your bodies and take him into your hand. He tries to continue giving your body loving attention with his lips, but his kisses get messy, dragging lazily over your shoulder and collarbone, with how distracted he is by your touch. He has to pull away for a breather and hold himself back from thrusting into your fist when you squeeze him teasingly at the base. 
“Bunny…” You both look down and watch as your smaller hand slowly strokes him. His cock is flush with need, leaking so prettily as you try your hardest to make it good for him. You slip your other hand under his shirt, running your fingers against his coarse happy trail to his rippling muscles. The couch groans next to you as he harshly grips the arm, barely holding himself back with white knuckles. “Oh, f-fuck.” His body stiffens under you as you brush your thumb against the sensitive underside of the tip. 
You tenderly massage the spot, watching in awe as he continues to spill over your fingers, making a mess that drips onto your inner thighs and the edge of his shirt. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing desperately in your hold.
As beads of white paint your fingers, your mouth waters just thinking about how he tastes. You feel ravenous to see him cum, to watch how easily you can ruin him. “H-hold on, cariño. Give me a second.” Jake chokes out. His hips stutter under you before he pulls your hand away.
"Whyy." You whine, pouting up at him with starry eyes. You reach for him again with the hand he isn’t holding onto, brushing your fingers against his sensitive cock. He shudders for you with a broken groan. 
“I'm close-- just – stop for a moment –” Both hands are pinned to your side as Jake’s chest heaves under his shirt. He rests his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he struggles to hold himself back. 
“But…I want you to.”
“I know, baby,” He lifts his head, dark eyes boring into yours, and pulls your hands behind you. You squirm in his lap, back arching at the position, suddenly remembering your own desperation. It feels good to be bound by his hands, to let him do whatever he wants to your body. “But I don’t wanna finish if it isn’t in you.” 
Your face heats in embarrassment. “Oh.” 
Jake picks up on your sudden shyness immediately. 
“You like that, don’t you, bunny?” He smirks, “The thought of me filling you up, then dripping out of you?”
You bite your lip, “A little bit.”
“A little, hm?” He ponders, “Well why don’t we try it out and see.” Your thighs clench around him at the idea.
“Ok.”
“Sit up, let me see how wet you are.” He helps you raise yourself on your knees so you’re hovering over his lap. Letting go of your wrists, he drags his thumb against your clothed cunt; The fabric has a darkened splotch along your opening, teasing him with evidence of your lust. “Aw, sweetheart, you’re soaked…” He nudges your panties to the side, slipping his fingers against your wet opening. “Gonna ruin these pretty little panties, hm?” You nod wordlessly, hips desperately pushing against his touch.
He gently slides against your dripping entrance, making a mess of your cunt with teasing circling motions. Wet, decadent sounds fill the limited space between you as his fingers prod ever so slightly against the spot where you need him most.  A helpless sound is pushed out of you when he finally eases two fingers inside of you.
“Is that good, bunny?” He coos as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. It’s only his fingers, but he’s already filling you up so deliciously. His dark eyes are hungrily locked on how he fills you up over and over again, slick dripping down his knuckles and over his palm. “Hm?” 
You nod again, brain foggy with pleasure. “Yes, J–” You can barely get a word out when he curls his fingers up, pressing so sweetly and deep against the sensitive walls of your cunt. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his wrist, it feels so good. “Uh–!” You almost fall over and have to hold onto his shoulders for support as he begins to speed up. 
“That’s it, baby…” Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rapidly presses against your g-spot. You’re already hurdling towards the edge and he can feel it with how you start to clench around his fingers. “Make a mess of my hand..” Within a handful of thrusts, you’re gasping out with pleasure, your thighs shaking over him. He takes his hand away and holds you against him to keep you sitting upright as your body is overtaken with euphoria. You pant against his shoulder, trying to gather your senses. 
You can feel him under you, hard and wanting, throbbing as you whimper and arch against him, letting the pleasure work through your body. Even when you’re barely coming down from an orgasm, you’re still longing to be filled with something more. But he ignores his own needs, instead focusing on you, softly pecking the top of your head and rubbing comforting circles against your arms. 
You lift your head from his chest to look at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Jake stares right back, unabashedly, in awe. “You’re so good to me, bunny.” You shiver at the praise. At the comfort. You shyly divert your eyes to stare at the marks you’ve left on his shoulders. 
“Only for you, Jake.” You don’t see it, but his lips lift into a small smile at your words. 
His hands drift down from your arms to hold you by the waist. “Only for me.” He echos, solidifying the statement. 
You gasp when he suddenly presses you down against his cock. Looking back up at him, he meets your wide eyes with a mischievous grin, hips rolling teasingly against yours. “And I’m all yours.” You position yourself over him all while keeping eye contact, wanting to drink in every microexpression on his face. 
“Yes.” You both sigh as he barely brushes against your wet opening. He takes a deep breath, clutching your hips as you begin your descent.
Your body slowly manages to swallow the first inch of him. And – oh – it’s so much better than you expected. He stretches you so fully, even barely inside of you, filling you exactly how you need him to. 
You let out a strained whimper from the back of your throat as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. You whine as your body desperately clenches and stretches to accommodate him inside of you. His hold on your hips tightens as your thighs meet his, now fully impaled by his hard cock.  
“I thought it was ‘just the tip’.” Jake tries to tease, his deep voice gravelly with lust, but it comes out as more of a groan than a taunt.
You slowly shake your head, body trembling as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 
“You said you’re all mine, daddy.” The words practically melt from your lips, lethargic with heat. It catches him off guard. You moan, hips slowly moving over him to feel him deeper inside. “M-mine,” You repeat with a pant, so lost in desperation that you don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you, frozen in place. 
“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” He doesn’t know what else to say, brain overheating from your ministrations. You’ve never called him a pet name before, let alone used the word ‘daddy’ anywhere near him. You’ve always been a shy little bunny around him, always preciously out of reach, a tease to fantasize about, but now you’re wrapped around him, moaning beautifully destructive words. 
What really surprises him is the way he’s eagerly throbbing inside of you from that word. Desperate thoughts float in his mind: She wants me to take care of her, she needs me.
“Fuck me.” He groans to himself, willing his body to hold back from cumming inside of you right then and there. 
“P-please.” You beg with a broken voice, thinking he’s talking to you. Jake just nods understandingly and holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your torso, wanting to feel your whole body against his. He starts off slow, pressing up into your kneeling body with measured thrusts as he dots kisses along your neck and shoulders. You sigh something wistful before meeting his movements, eagerly lifting your hips against him. 
“God, bunny, you feel so good.” He can't help it, you’re all-encompassing like this, with your pretty little sighs and panted breaths, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, so he starts to speed up, projecting his desperation into his actions. Your back arches at the change of pace as he pumps into you, and it only makes him feel deeper. “So tight around me.” He pushes against your front wall on every thrust and you swear it makes you see stars. 
Your clit inevitably rubs against him as your bodies move with each other and it takes your pleasure to another level. You’re sure the sounds you’re making verge on embarrassing, but he seems to eat them up anyway. “Ah, right there--! Jake –”
“No, bunny,” He grits out, “It’s daddy.”
You whimper, “Daddy – ” He feels you flutter deliciously around him as your head begins to lull backward. He groans as your cunt sucks him deep inside, desperately milking his cock as you’re seized by ecstasy.
“Fucking take it, sweetheart.” 
“I-I think m’gonna…” Your eyes roll back before you can finish your sentence and white fills your vision. You let out a keening sound as you gush over him, thighs clenched around his as your second high moves through you. 
His eyes squeeze shut as he gives in and starts fucking you at a punishing pace. Your mouth drops open around an empty moan. You can only hold onto him as he takes what he wants from your body, intensifying your orgasm with sloppy thrusts. With a few more upward pushes, he lets out a breathy grunt and finishes inside of you, painting your walls with his warmth. 
You both stay in this position for a little longer. 
You can feel Jake’s heart beat rapidly against your chest as you cuddle against him. He’s still recovering from the onslaught of sensations and emotions. Both of you are sticky with sweat and slick, but neither of you care. His cock is still inside of you, keeping his cum locked inside as you dutifully warm him with your cunt. 
“Such a pretty girl…” He croons, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with such sincerity in his eyes, that it’s almost overwhelming. You bite your lip nervously at the compliment and attempt to look away, but before you can, he’s tilting your face up with the light touch of a finger, “Really? You’re gonna act all shy with my cock still in you?”
His words only make you squirm on top of him. He nearly chokes at the accidental stimulation. 
“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Your voice is small and cute.
“Then how am I supposed to fluster my girl?” 
Your eyes widen. His girl? 
“Your girl?”
“My girl.” He hums with a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your lips.
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