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unintentionalseductress · 4 months ago

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When The Snow Melts

Warnings: MDNI, soft sex, virginity loss, angst, and some spoilers for those who aren't familiar with Zayne's lore. A/n: Curiosity got the best of me. I wasn't playing LaDS when the Master of Fate card came out so I went to YouTube and immediately regretted it. Like can this man not catch a break? He sacrifices himself again? I couldn't leave it, so this me, correcting the wrong. A fix-it fic if you will. Because I need Zayne to win, at least once. Also, since Zayne appears according to how MC perceives him, I do believe he will have aged exactly as she has.

The night is bright, and the small cobbled lane you walk on is lit with lamps. The streets are bustling with life. The feeling of excitement, togetherness, and aromatic food graces the air as you wander closer to the town square. Another festival, similar, yet not similar, to the countless ones you’ve seen with your keen eyes.

You’d wanted to be in company, maybe see the world when you were young, and the curse that was also a blessing was granted. Your body, now wispy and weathered from the years spent wandering cannot move as quickly as you used to, the ever-reminding aches in your joints, the beginning of arthritis weighing down in your bones. Yet you still had a zest for life. Because what else could you do but seek, and take in everything that life had to offer? How could you not? Because it was the grace of the god that allowed it and the terrible price that was paid for you to experience it.

It had been decades since you had last seen the god. You had traversed as far as you could, carrying your umbrella with the everlasting snow coating it like wool on a freshly birthed lamb. The things you had witnessed! Ships with sails as tall as oak trees, strangely flavored meats and delectable sweets, festivals where people had danced, music from instruments brought in from faraway strange lands. You had eaten, traveled, danced, and sung, picking up small jobs to afford simple pleasures. You were a quick learner. Once you were a seamstress helping a small garment shop, another time a jewel polisher. You had even worked as an errand maid for an elderly couple who were profuse with their thanks and offered you a roof over your head for a short while. But staying in one place wasn’t an option. You had to keep looking after all. How else would you find him again?

As your feet carried you into the square, a burst of light and color filled your vision. It’s so lively, as the people flock to the different food carts, admiring the small handicraft booths, and singing folk songs well known to all those who grew up in this region. Children joyfully chased each other, dressed warmly in bright clothes. A hint of winter was already in the air. Based on what you had observed, this festival was celebrating the end of the harvest season, probably one of the last for this year until the harsh snowfall of winter faded. The breeze, not quite chilly enough to make you shiver, felt comforting on your face.

You supposed you could work as a midwife again. Midwifery was good work, reliable since winter did not stop the delivery of children into the world. It could also guarantee a place to stay if you played your cards right, though you hated staying in one place. The nomadic lifestyle you had adopted suited you. And the winters made you nostalgic.

It made you long for those days before you had picked up this umbrella and set off to see the world. Of amber eyes flecked with green, like the jars of whiskey at the inns when the early morning sunlight brushes against them, bringing forth colors hidden in the dark glass. Or of soft hands, covered in scars, and whispers in your ear of sleep, of priestesses calling gods down to earth to make love to them. Sometimes the memories consume you to the point of anger. How dare he leave you? With no explanation as to what his blessing was.

You vaguely recall those days, back when your fingers weren’t gnarled and wrinkled, your face unblemished by the years in the sun. All spells have limitations, he had said. But he also said he had taken care to make the spell extra strong since you were particularly clumsy. The snow had to melt sometime…didn’t it?

A drum begins to pound in the distance, and the crowd gathers around the stage that had been set up at the far end of the square. You halt at one of the carts to buy some fried chicken skewers. The vendor looks curiously at your umbrella, something you have grown accustomed to over the years. After all, snow that doesn’t melt was bound to bring questions. You had woven a different story for each city you had passed through, sometimes recycling them when you didn’t have the creativity to spin a new one. Initially hesitant to reveal how the umbrella with the everlasting snow had come into your possession, you had tried to pass it off as a novelty accessory, crafting tales of snowy mountains and how it was all the rage in those areas.

As the years passed by, your tongue had loosened. Or perhaps the indignation of him disappearing had made you reckless. Although you still hadn’t said the full story, you’d managed to finally say it was a blessing from a god, shocking the non-believers by letting them touch the snow, their gasps of awe as the cold, wet, powder clung to their fingers falling satisfyingly on your ears. Tonight, however, you were in no mood to entertain strangers. You smile politely as you hand over your coins to the vendor, take the food, and walk away towards the stage.

The sounds of a flute and an erhu accompany the drum. Elaborately dressed dancers are swirling in coordinated grace on the stage, enacting a scene from an old tale; the common man sending off the goddess of harvest, thanking her for her blessings that year, and praying to the god of winter, that he be merciful to them and allow them to live to see another spring.

You were skeptical if these rituals really worked. The first autumn after you had been gifted the umbrella when the air started to show signs of change, you had danced, danced amongst the trees that were close to shedding their vividly colored leaves of red, mustard, and yellow. You had prayed your heart out, prayed so hard, danced so long that the soles of your shoes had almost worn out. You had danced till you had collapsed with exhaustion, falling asleep on the leafy floor. You had been so sure that it would work, that he would show himself, and when you awoke, it was with a heartrending pang that you realized you were alone. It hadn’t worked. Wherever he was, the god of the snow wasn’t visible to your eyes. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to cry in all those months. Had he really believed this was the better choice? That to leave you behind without telling you what was going to happen to him would make you happier? That was the worst part; not knowing if he was alive, existing somewhere you couldn’t journey to, or if he had given all his power into making the snow that had fueled your existence, and lost himself with it.

The music becomes faster and the dancers move until the stage is a blur of color. The audience claps as their movements become sharp, with an artistic precision that only years of practice could hone. The last note quavers from the flute and rises into the night air. Cheers and whistles erupt all around you. It was a beautiful performance no doubt, but despite finding it captivating, it also left you feeling hollow. Finishing the last of your fried chicken, you begin to wander amongst the townspeople, enquiring about work that could be had for the winter.

By the time the square had cleared up, and the last of the festival-goers had returned home, you had secured a job; a bakery was in desperate need of an extra set of hands. The pay wasn’t much but the woman had offered food and board and you had accepted graciously. As you sit on the stone steps of your latest lodgings, you gaze at the moon.

You want to not blame him, to not feel this heavy weight that you’ve carried inside your chest. You know you should be grateful for his sacrifice which enabled you to see so much of the world, and at the least, you weren’t alone. The incident with the people in your village was a distant memory, replaced with so many more pleasant rememberings. Plucking apples from an orchard with trees growing as far as the eyes could see. The feeling of a newborn baby, screaming with the rage of life and the mother wiping tears of joy while offering you her thanks. The herbalist with his toothless smile as he showed you which plants were medicinal and which were poison as you plucked various flowers and leaves and dug the earth for rhizomes of turmeric and ginger.

You were a well-traveled woman, knowledgeable in all aspects, a rare luxury during this time, you knew. Yet for each memory that stayed clearly in your mind, there was a sense of loss. Everything tied back to him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forget him, even in your old age, and even with the passage of time.

The spicy bun the baker had offered you was good. You savored its flavor on your tongue, naming the constellations visible in the sky as you did so, the short astronomy lesson from a young scholar in some past time proving useful. It must be close to midnight based on how still the night is, the whispering rustle of dead leaves as they skitter across the ground audible in the background. With a sigh, you carefully get to your feet, your joints creaking as you rise. As you reach for your umbrella, you pause, fingertips hovering over the handle.

Surely you were imagining it? It must be a trick of the moonlight. The last of the lamps were dying, the faint light casting shadows across the walls of the dwellings. Yet your aged eyes couldn’t shake off the feeling. You stare intently at the umbrella, more so, at the snow perched on its upper slope. A fine sheen of condensation coated the umbrella, surrounding the powdery snow. Had you somehow gotten the umbrella wet? You kneel, observing with fascination as some of the condensation gathers, becoming fat droplets of precipitation, and rolling off the sides.

You’re awestruck. In all your years, the snow had never melted. It had never lessened nor increased but always stayed the same. But now you can see how the powder was turning watery, steadily dripping down into the cold ground. You trace a fingertip on the trails of moisture along the sides of the umbrella, and that’s when you hear it; the unmistakable twang of a guqin.

You had never encountered a guqin again, not since the night he had played one while you danced for him. The unmistakable notes now begin to form a melody. You look out into the empty street and see nothing. But the song was filling your body like the warmth of a fireplace. Your limbs involuntarily stretch out as your eyes close, remembering the movements you had learned so long ago and sworn to never repeat after the failed attempt to call down the god. Your legs feel unsteady, your hands clumsy, a far cry from the controlled accuracy of the stage dancers. Your joints begin to sear as you move, unable to stop the actions. Oh how sweetly the instrument sang to you!

There’s a sharp pain in your heart, not from the ache of moving your tired extremities, but from the grief bottled up, adding on year after year. There’s resentment, but underneath it all, there’s a strong yearning you’re unable to put into words. How do you describe it? The loss of the only person who seemed to understand you, who helped you control your power?

You knew he did something when he placed his spell because, since that day, you hadn’t been able to harness your powers ever again. He had ensured you could live your life as a normal human being. Before knowing him you would have done anything to not have the power. But the cost that came with it was too much to bear. You weren’t alone, yet you were alone. So of all the days, why was the guqin playing now?

Tears roll down your cheeks as you dance, letting loose your sorrow to the crisp night breeze. You feel like each nerve in your body is frayed, all consumed with the bits of memories you had of him. It takes you a moment to realize you’re not dancing anymore. The guqin has stopped playing. You’re standing in a pose, your head lowered, facing the steps you had been sitting on, and the umbrella leaning against them. Shock passes through you.

The umbrella was completely devoid of snow. The only evidence it was there was the puddle of water that had gathered beneath it, muddying the grass.

“Why are you so surprised?”

Your heart skips a beat, then begins to hammer in your chest like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. The deep baritone voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm calls out to you gently. You can’t seem to be able to move.

“It can’t be.” You murmur, gripping your elbows, trying to calm yourself. “It can’t be. I’m dreaming.”

“What are dreams if not another reality?”

It takes all the effort in your body to not collapse to the ground as a sobbing mess. You turn slowly, as though giving the voice a chance to admit it was a figment of your imagination but it doesn’t happen. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him, at last.

His dark hair has tinges of gray in it, and crow’s feet are visible near the corners of his eyes, but the gentle upwards curve of his lips, the broad shoulders, and his pointed chin are all recognizably familiar.

“Zayne?” You let his name fall from your lips, sounding like a strange word, lost to your vocabulary from the years of disuse.

He nods, then stretches out a hand to you. At first, you’re at a loss about what you should do, then, with as much speed as your wizened knees allow, you run to him. He’s solid and grounding, his arms wrapping around you tightly. A brief lick of rage crosses through you, but when you open your mouth to let loose your diatribe, all that comes out is a sob. Your tears flow freely, staining his robes, and you feel his gloved hands gently combing through your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Why not tell me?” Your words are choked, your body shivering as you cry.

Zayne leads you to the steps and helps you sit before occupying the space next to you. He leans you against him, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as he takes one of your hands between both of his. He sighs deeply and his voice, though calm, is filled with regret as he speaks.

“How could I tell you? What would I have said? How do you tell someone special to you that their life was in danger?”

You blink back tears. “Danger?”

“There was a powerful entity after you. I did what I needed to do to protect you.”

“Why was it after me?”

Zayne pauses, as though considering how to word his response. “It was convinced you would bring about a cataclysm, and the only way to prevent it was to take your life.”

“But… I don’t understand. How did your spell prevent this? Now that it’s worn off, won’t it come after me again?”

“No.” Zayne wraps his arms around you, his body bringing warmth into yours. “Even cataclysms go away if given enough time. But the harder part was figuring out how to suppress your abilities until that time passed.” He sighs deeply, gathering you close. “The spell on the umbrella was the only solution I could think of, without restricting your freedom. Regrettably, sealing your power meant taking away your ability to perceive me. I never intended to make it permanent.”

“Why not tell me?” You repeat the question. Zayne raises an eyebrow.

“If I had told you the spell would wear off, would you have left the mountain?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb as he takes in your face, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I know you. You would have spent all these years in isolation, waiting for me. I didn’t want you to miss the opportunity to live. A normal life seemed like the best option I could give you until enough time had passed.”

You’re silent as you let his words sink into you. After a gap, you whisper, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His thumb caresses each of your fingertips in turn. “But know that I watched over you every day. I saw the world through your eyes and felt your sense of wonderment in my heart. The day you danced so hard for me that you almost fainted from exhaustion-” Zayne draws in a breath and his voice quivers as he continues. “I was in tears. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. I was there, separated by a veil, but I felt your pain.”

“That was the year the frost came early.” You recall the memory.

“Indeed. I couldn’t control my grief. I didn’t know how else to let you know I was there, except to cover the world with snow.”

You glance over at the umbrella. “Will you disappear again?”

“Not unless you want me to.” One of his large hands rests on your knee. “I understand I’ve angered you by acting without telling you everything. Is it enough that you don’t want me around?”

You shake your head no. Your momentary anger with him had faded, like the night giving way to the sunrise. “There’s nothing that could keep me from wanting you. I made many acquaintances throughout my life, but the one person’s companionship I yearned for was yours.”

“My beloved snowflake.” Zayne embraces you tenderly. “It was fate that led you to me on the mountain that day. And It was fate that finally broke the spell. We’re all bound by it, even me.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Otherwise, do you think I would have kept you sealed for so long? Even gods must play by fate’s rules.”

Silence falls between you both, the breeze ruffling your clothes. You become acutely aware that he’s gazing at you, and when you turn to look at him, there’s such tenderness in his eyes that it makes you blush, even at this age.

“You’re beautiful,” he utters, tucking strands of stray hair behind your ears. The amber in his eyes glows as you stare back, captivated by how handsome he is. Your memory didn’t do him justice. You cup his cheek.

“Is this our happily ever after?”

“It can be if we choose it to be.”

“I do. Wholeheartedly.”

Sparks fly between you and almost as if the both of you are following a rhythm, your lips find each other in the darkness. It’s odd because, in the passing years, you hadn’t imagined what his lips would feel like against yours. You had fantasized about lying next to him, listening to his heartbeat, about taking long, leisurely strolls while holding hands, and about the possibility of letting him rest on your lap while you played with his thick locks of hair.

Now you’re glad you hadn’t tried to imagine it because the reality was sweeter than any dream you could have conjured, the warmth and softness of his mouth, the taste of his tongue as it slips past your lips, the possessiveness in his grip as he molds your body against his, as though silently claiming you. There wasn’t an inch of you that didn’t ache for him. When he pulls away, there’s desire flickering in the depths of his eyes.

Wordlessly, you take his hands and get to your feet, quietly pulling him inside your new quarters. You’re careful to not wake the baker; it was quite improper to invite a man into your room, but you didn’t care. You lock the door and allow Zayne to sweep you away.

Clothes slide to the floor, a whisper lost to the dark. There’s no shame as you reach for each other, hands relishing the feeling of skin, enjoying the contact between your bodies as he gently pulls you onto the bed. His lips leave trailing kisses on your skin, no longer supple like the young woman you once were, but worthy of being worshipped irrespective. You wonder if this moment would have felt different if you had consummated this relationship when you were younger but realized you had little choice in it. If the Master of Fate couldn’t control when things happened, then what good was it to think about what could have been?

Instead, you focus on him, on his skin flushed with vitality as you nibble his ear, shyly running your tongue down his neck. He suckles at your nipple, and pleasure, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced radiates into every part of your being. You feel his erection graze your belly as he patiently kisses you, moaning into his mouth as his fingers stroke your sex, finding the little knot of nerves that makes you close your eyes in ecstasy.

It’s all slow and unhurried, and when you finally gasp out your climax, he eases his body into yours. There’s pain, but only for the briefest moment, then as your body stretches around him, you feel a powerful sense of intimacy as he thrusts, his movements passionate and loving. He gathers you tightly against him whispering the same thing over and over as he empties himself.

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you.”

A weak ray of sunlight peeks through the window when you wake up, and you panic for a moment when you see the bed is empty.

“I’m here my love.” Zayne’s voice immediately reassures you and you see him stoking the fireplace. The small flames crackle merrily as he makes his way back to bed, pulling you against him and stroking your skin. It had snowed overnight, and the landscape was now unrecognizable, covered in a fresh coat of it.

“It appears grief isn’t the only thing that can cause the god of winter to make it snow,” you tease and Zayne good-naturedly smirks at you.

“Indeed. All thanks to you.”

You giggle, a soft sound that fills him with joy.

“I suppose we’re stuck in this village until winter ends. Makes no sense to wander for now.”

“Agreed. I suppose I can set up shop as a fortune-teller, or maybe as a herbalist.”

“We’ll decide what to do when spring comes.” You settle against his chest, finding comfort in the scent of his skin.

“The snow has to melt sometime. But we’ll survive. Together.”

“Together.” You agree, and lay your lips over his.

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

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euthymiaaa · 1 year ago

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— taking a bath with a lover *ੈ✩‧₊˚

non-sexual & a bit silly lol, enjoy!!

✧ ⁭after an exhausting day, what other way to relax your partner than preparing them a warm, blissful bath?

✧ dousing the bathtub with their favorite aromatic flowers and oils

✧ “honey, what’s with all of this in the bathroom?” “you came back early? the surprise got ruined!”

✧ aiding them undress, yet it takes longer than usual because you keep getting their clothes tangled

✧ lending a hand to cautiously help them get into the pool of water

✧ "gosh it's the perfect temperature" "oh thank god, i thought it would still be too hot"

✧ blowing soap bubbles into their face to briefly annoy them

✧ "aren't you going to join me darling?" "if you insist"

✧ relaxing them by delicately massaging their hair in circles with shampoo

✧ “careful! you’re going to get shampoo in my eyes!” “oh quit being so dramatic”

✧ listening about their day whilst lightly massaging the knots in their back

✧ peppering tender kisses along their exposed shoulder

✧ “i never realized you have so many moles around here”

✧ tracing their scars with the tips of your fingers

✧ them burying their head into your neck, eyelids getting heavy out of tiredness

✧ “you better clean up after” "yes, your highness"

✧ "even though this was a mess, i'm glad i could spend time with you like this"

#imagine your otp #otp prompts #dialogue prompt #fluff #otp ideas #romance prompts #writing scenarios #fluff prompts #soft prompts #if this happened to me in real life it would make me feel so complete man #wow 3 prompts in a day i am pumping out prompts HELP

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sweetiecutie · 1 year ago

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you and childhood best friend Simon losing your virginities together on your birthday🥺

Pairing: childhood friend! Simon Riley x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, both reader and Simon are implied to be 19 or so, fluffy smut, lose of virginity on both sides, fingering, unprotected sex and pulling out as contraception (DON’T DO THAT)

A/n: god anon, that’s absolutely fucking ADORABLE!!! I enjoyed writing this sm! It turned out a bit longer than I originally planned but it is what it is.

You and your best friend Simon were sprawled out on your soft bed, soft pink sheet were rustling underneath your bodies whenever you moved. Some stupid show was playing on your laptop but neither of you paid much attention, chatting and laughing at each other’s stupid jokes, tummies full of delicious cake and aromatic tea cold and long forgotten on your bedside.

- What else does my angel want for her birthday? You know I’ll do anything you want, - Simon said quietly, his voice slightly raspy from chain smoking. Corners of his thin lips rose up in small smile, the one he reserved for you only; his hand came up to tuck a stand of loose hair behind your ear, gently pinching the apple of your cheek as he did so.

You just shrugged your shoulders meekly, smiling and blushing uncontrollably at this cheeky gesture:

- Nothing, just wanna be with you, - you said, looking up at Simon through long lashes, feeling your tummy flutter at the sight of his gummy smile upon hearing your words, those adorable dimples that you wanted to kiss so much showing on his stubble-pecked cheeks. You felt a sudden fit of courage simmering in your chest, so you added tentatively: - And maybe a small kiss?

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you watched Simon freeze, his body tensing for a few long moments after registering your words. Then his smile widened slowly as he sat upright from his semi-lying position, scooting over to be closer to you.

- I’ll give you as many as you wish princess, - he promised quietly, tip of his tongue running over his lips impatiently before pressing them against your own, big calloused hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. You hummed into the kiss contentedly, releasing long a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

Your hands rested on Simon’s sides, crumpling soft cotton of his tee in between your trembling from nerves fingers, causing the hem to ride up, giving a glimpse on milky skin of his stomach.

Simon felt as if the whole world was spinning around and in the centre of it was you - gorgeous little you, all pretty and dolled up for your birthday, so pliant and soft in his rough hands. He couldn’t help himself from pushing his lips against yours a bit harder, small moan tearing through his chest upon the taste of your cherry scented lipgloss - god he’s been dreaming of this his whole fucking life.

Neither of you could tell how exactly everything happened - it was a mess of hot messy kisses full of tongue and shared saliva, hands raking up and down each other’s bodies, sloppily moulding and caressing, finally able to do so after years of yearning. You were laying on your back with Simon slotted cozily in between your thighs, his t-shirt off, button and zipper of his jeans undone, your greedy fingers cupping his hard-on through black cotton of his boxers, rubbing and stroking his throbbing cock. Blonde cussed under his breath, sucking another pretty mark on the side of your neck, his hands kneading soft pudge of your tits, pinching and tweaking sensitive nipples gently.

Simon didn’t hesitate to shift one of his hands lower, rubbing you through your pretty panties, cooing at the wetness seeping through them.

- Want you s’bad, Si, - you whined, bucking your hips against your best friend’s hand, feeling his cock twitch under your fingers at your words.

- Gotta work you open first, dearie, - he murmured and placed a small peck at the tip of your nose, doing quick work at shedding your clothes down, leaving you flushed and naked under him. Running two of his fingers over your slit he opened your folds, groaning at how fucking drenched you were for him. With his thumb rubbing and prodding at your clit a bit clumsily blonde carefully worked one finger inside of your fluttering hole, causing you to draw in a sharp breath. No matter how many times you stuffed yourself full of your fingers, everything felt tenfold better with Simon.

Soon he added a second, and then third fingers in, spreading you open on his thick knuckles, making you feel so full and needy for more. You synchronised the pace of your jerking on Simon’s cock with the his digits fucking in and out of you, eliciting a throaty groan from his.

- Can’t wait no more, I need to be inside of you, - Simon hissed, taking his fingers out of you, leaving you so cold and empty as he hastened to tear his pants and underwear off, crawling back in between your soft thighs. - Can I?

You nodded fervently, watching with wide eager eyes as your best friend pumped his cock a few times, spreading shiny bead of precum all over his brownish tip. Aligning himself with your awaiting entrance he met your eyes, making sure you wanted it still. Receiving a small yes that fell from your kiss swollen lips he pushed carefully, breaking into your virgin pussy. It stung still, even despite your pooling slickness and all the stretching. Simon hissed under his breath, head thrown backwards providing you with delicious view of his strong neck and chiselled adam’s apple, his face scrunched up as he fought the urge to bottom out inside your tight cunny, cumming shamefully quick.

Staying like that for a few long minutes to allow both of you to get used to completely new feeling Simon crouched down to pepper small butterfly kisses all over your cheeks and forehead, his affection melting your insides into a sparkly goo. Blonde took one of your hands and guided it down to where your sexes connected:

- Show me how you like to be touched.

And so you did, rubbing your clit in full circles, tight pleasure of it helping to ease all unpleasant feelings from first penetration. Simon cussed under his breath, feeling how you clamped down on his needy cock, pushing your hand away and taking over your clit, imitating the pace you’ve just shown him. With added stimulation you relaxed further into him, your walls declamping, allowing Simon to finally move.

His first thrusts were faltering and hesitant, not wanting to move too fast or rough to hurt your thus stretched walls any further. Slowly but surely picking up pace Simon soon was fucking you into your mattress, his cock brushing that one spot within you repeatedly, his thumb massaging tight figures eights on your swollen needy clit.

- That’s my birthday girl, so perfect for me. God you feel amazing, I could’ve cum right this instant, - Simon moaned, thrusting his hips against yours gently, fucking himself in and out of your needy cunny on slow sensual pace.

- Si, I think I’m gunna cum, - you whined out, feeling familiar heaviness settling in the pit of your tummy, your nerves aflame with newfound pleasure. Your hands gripped onto Simon’s buff biceps, seeking out some grounding; his hips faltered slightly, deep throaty moan rolling off his tongue - realisation alone that you were going to cum because of him was enough to push him right over the edge.

- Cum f’ me, pretty girl. Cum on my cock, let me make you feel good, - he encouraged, his thumb rubbing your clit more fervently, pushing you right into the pit of pleasure. Your body jolted as a wave of pure pleasure crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your eyes to roll back and toes curl. White dots were dancing before your eyes, white noise thrumming in your ears as you rode out your orgasm, your puffy pussy clenching and clamping down on Simon’s drooling cock, bringing him right to his limit.

- Ffffuuuuuck, - blonde gritted you, pulling his cock out and jerking it ferociously with his rough fist, a few pumps were enough for Simon to shoot his pearly cum onto your heaving tummy, staining your skin with milky ropes.

Crashing on the bed next to you Riley scooped you up in his tight embrace, holding you close to his heaving chest, thick fingers tangling themselves in between soft strands of your hair. Simon pressed soft kisses onto your hairline, making you giggle in post-coital bliss, snugging closer to your now lover.

- You can’t imagine how long I’ve been dreaming about holding you like that, - he murmured against your skin, inhaling lungfuls of your shampoo mixed with your favourite perfume. - God I’m not letting you get out of bed after that<3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some feedback <3 Also, requests are open

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago

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Seeing Stars 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world's most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your image in print makes you cringe again. If you keep doing that, you're going to form a few new wrinkles. It's hard to describe the expression on your face; somewhere between a gape and a grimace. Bonita doesn't seem to notice as she waves the signed photo in glee.

"Oh my god! Mo is going to hella jealous," she chimes.

You grumble. Another pair of thunder gods barge by and you stop short to keep from getting bonked by a foam hammer.

"They couldn't crop me out?" You wonder.

"Heyyyyy, no way. Then it'd only be me and cap," she whines. "You look fine."

She isn't looking at you. She's too obsessed with herself, perched perfectly in Steve Rogers' arms. You glower at your likeness and roll your eyes.

You shrug as if trying to wriggle free of the touch no longer there. It's there in the picture, that unwelcome embrace. It just happened so fast. You don't touch. You don't hug. Bonita gets on for her birthday and one for Christmas and outside of that, you have your bubble.

"My feet are killing me," you drone.

"You're not tapping our already, are you?" She chirps.

"No, but I could use a coffee. Maybe sit for a few."

"I don't want to miss the costume competition," she hums. "How about you come find me?"

"That works."

You'll agree to anything if it gets you a break from all this. You feel your battery flickering. You're at 12% socially and recharging will take days, if not weeks.

"I'll text if I get lost," you assure her.

You part and go in search of one of the vending machines you passed a few minutes ago. You're not outwardly sardonic, or you try not to be. When people describe you as deadpan, you're often surprised they pick up on that. You say as little as you can but some people take silence negatively.

You tap your card for the overpriced instant cappucino. The machine churns noisily and a cup drops down onto the tray. The brown espresso mix spits from the nozzle. Its aromatic even if you expect a watered down flavour.

You take the cup and blow over it. You keep away from the hordes of fandom devout. You wind along the wall and find a quiet hallway. You lean by the emergency exit and sip your coffee.

You close your eyes and sigh, tilting your head back as you let the coolness of the wall soothe you. You inhale as the thrum of the crowd drifts in. You don't want to go back.

There's some scuffing at the end of the hall. Your head snaps up and you stand straight, expecting a staff member to chase you out. Worse. It's one of them.

"Oh hey," the blond slows as he comes down the hall, stopping midway. "Um... didn't expect anyone back here."

You stare at Steve Rogers and take another drink, "just on my way out." You glance at the door to your left; 'Employees Only'. The placard beneath denotes a restroom. Makes sense, he can't piss with the peons.

"You got a photo," he says as you edge down the hall, keeping near the wall as you try not to get close.

"My friend did, yeah."

"Wait? You didn't get a copy? I can pull a few strings."

"No thanks," you stop a foot away from him, realising he's too big to squeeze by.

"You alright?" He asks, sounding genuinely concerned. Your forehead furrows but you stop the frown from reaching your lips, "I'm fine."

"These things give me a headache too," he says.

How presumptuous. Even if your head is feeling a bit dull.

"VIP is pretty nice. There's a lounge. I could get you and your friend some passes. Hear they got real coffee too," he gestures to your cup. "I don't know for sure, I don't get to enjoy it much."

"That's... too nice," you insist. "Excuse me, I gotta find my friend."

You motion past him but he only moves an inch, "need help?"

You look at him and shake your head, "I'll find her." You waggle your phone at him and turn, sidling by slowly. At last your free but at the cost of a few drops of coffee as it sloshes in your cup. It's bland. You toss it at the first bin. What a waste.

You find Bonita near the contest banner. She looks unimpressed as she pouts and crosses her arms. You near as a yawn threatens to break free.

"What's up?" You ask.

"Didn't qualify for the contest," she mopes. "So, guess I'll watch."

"Hm, there's a prize?"

"Just a gift card but still," she says.

"Ah, too bad."

"Well..." she looks around, "how about the raffle? The grand prize is a your of the Avengers compound or something."

You try not to show your disinterest. She better not invite you to that too. Ha, it's a long shot anyway. You'll humour her for a bit longer.

"Sure, why not."

You follow her over to the table. The staff at the table fill out the ballots for you using your ticket numbers. You give your information mindlessly, figuring there's enough people there that you'll forget you even bothered.

"That's so awesome," Bonita trills. "Can you imagine?"

You would hate it. You know. You like a museum tour or even a solitary stroll through the library but some good will act for good PR? You'll pass.

"I hope you win," you say to Bonita.

"Me too. I have so many questions!" She begins to ramble as you only half-listen.

As you walk along the booths, your eyes wander through the milling bodies. You squint as a head of golden hair bobs at the far end of the room and pauses. Even on your toes, you can't see enough to confirm your suspicions. What does it matter anyway? Good luck to the Cap finding his way back through these fanatics. You don't envy his lot, you hardly covet your own.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #seeing stars #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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sorrowfulrosebud · 2 years ago

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Cont of this

*Wails profusely at the idea of reader walking in on Katsuki and baby play fighting in the nursery*

==================================

The thick mahogany door separating your hall to your living room creaked loudly as you pushed it open before kicking off your shoes. You sigh in relief; you adored your friends, but by god could Mina and Denki talk.

“Katsuki? Keiko? I’m home my babies!” You shouted into the silence of your usually noisy home, before realising that Keiko could be down for a nap.

The delicious aromatic smell of Katsuki’s noodles filtered through the air and enticed you to your spotless kitchen. A small note was left on your kitchen island with Katsuki’s neat handwriting.

Hope you had a good time out with the losers, food’s in the fridge and Kei had his bottle. We’re probably upstairs in the nursery

- love, Ki

You smiled at his loving note, before prepping the food and tucking in.

==================================

After the delectable dish of noodles and vegetables, you meandered your way up the stairs to the large nursery you had for Keiko. You crept the white door open slowly, before tears started pricking at your eyes.

Katsuki was laying on the floor with your chunky baby resting on his chest with a tiny Dynamight costume on. Katsuki was making Keiko punch his face, revelling in his laughter.

“What the hell?! Why is this hero so damn strong?!” He pretended to be scared as he gently manoeuvred Keiko’s tiny fists to make contact with his cheeks. Keiko was giggling away, drooly mouth flashing his proud daddy his singular tooth. Katsuki let out little “pew pew” and “whoopash” noises at every point of contact.

“No more Mr Hero! I’m too weak, don’t punch me again!” He faked groans of pain as he repeatedly made Keiko punch his cheeks, before delivering the final blow.

Katsuki slumped his head to the side as he made convincing sounds of death.

“Blehhhhggg,” he moaned as he died. Keiko laughed loudly as he tried to plunge for his daddy. Katsuki let out his own laugh as he snuggled his baby closer to him.

“This certainly looks like naptime,” you laughed out loud as Katsuki jumped.

“Uhhh. He woke up?” He offered, embarrassed you saw him admit defeat for his son. You shook your head playfully as you approached your two heroes.

You picked Keiko up as he cooed in your arms.

“You did a wonderful job of beating your daddy up, Keiko,” you nuzzled your face into his slightly pink cheeks, earning a babble.

Katsuki smiled widely at his family before groaning at the way his legs had gone numb from the assault from his son. He joined your hug, swaying the three of you softly together. Katsuki pressed small kisses to each of you as Keiko burbled away. You nuzzled your face into Katsuki’s neck, smiling when you feel him smile back.

“I missed you both today,” you murmured. Katsuki continued to smile.

“We missed you too, didn’t we little guy?” He nudged Keiko, who yawned sleepily in response. He rubbed his eyes before nestling into you, breaths slowly deepening as you gave him a gentle goodnight kiss.

“Time for a real nap now, isn’t it sweetheart?” You murmured, giving your husband a pointed look, who only let out a breathy laugh.

“Ain’t my fault he’s a damn good hero.”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou #domestic bakugou #just him. with his family. ISJRJRNNGNF #*spongebob voice* the gang’s all here. AUGH #Him being so soft and gentle with his baby boy I’m salivating

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softartemisart · 1 year ago

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temple to a god of hedonism that gradually changes those inside to best live lives of pleasure and feasting

if you visit once, and stay for only a few minutes, you might get out with only a little extra softness on your frame, easy enough to work off. if you stay for much longer, well...

theres a growing hunger in your stomach, despite not eating that long ago. but it's a temple to a god of parties and feasting - there's plenty of food available. the dishes only seem to grow more aromatic the longer you stand near them and, when you cave and try a mouthful, it's unbelievably delicious.

you're so taken with the taste, you don't notice what's happening to your body. your stomach bloats from your gorging, and then softens into a wobbling belly that tests the durability of your clothes, hanging lower and lower towards your thick thighs. leaning over the table for another plate, your ass sticks out behind you, round and cellulite-ridden. your figure is soft, swelling, a picture of indulgence.

and it's not long before the servants of this god come and show you another kind of pleasure. warm hands make contact with sensitive skin and you moan through mouthfuls of rich food. they guide you to a soft chair, lean you back, make sure your every want in this moment is fulfilled. one continues to feed you all manner of decadent desserts. several more attend to your body, removing the remains of the constricting clothes you entered in and then kissing, massaging, rubbing every growing, jiggling inch of you. your chest is squeezed, nipples toyed with. your gut is oiled and played with. once they're done teasing you, one hefts the blubbery mass up while another finally reaches between your legs.

the next day, you wake up in one of their luxurious beds, the most well rested you've ever been. you're free to leave, of course. but as the heavenly smell of breakfast finds your nose, you also notice the new set of temple robes at the end of your bed, inviting you to join their ranks

#art writes #wg text #weight gain kink #magic weight gain #wg kink #feedism fic #wg writing #fat kink #tummy kink #weight gain writing #rapid wg #rapid weight gain #magic wg #this has been half finished in my drafts forever and im being too perfectionist about it so it's being posted #im more of a visual artist then a writer so im always iffy on things like this i guess!

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ghostofhyuck · 11 months ago

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NCT Dream and cooking food as love language.

cw: food.

Mark Lee.

It was your boyfriend's birthday and to make it special, you decided to try and make a watermelon cake knowing that it was his favorite fruit. You followed recipes online and took about two attempts before you perfected the cake. When Mark arrives at your place, you hurriedly dragged him to the dining table, then you grabbed the cake from the fridge, even singing happy birthday to your lover. "Did you made this? God, I'm lucky to have you," he said, pulling you to a kiss.

Huang Renjun

"Surprise!" you shouted as soon as your boyfriend entered the house. The aromatic smell of hotpot filled your apartment. In your table placed a mini-hotpot set that you bought days ago. You prepared everything and all that is needed is your boyfriend. When Renjun enters the dining table, he'll be surprised and will be filled with happiness that you prepared hotpot for him. You don't know that he was having a bad day and coming home to this just lighten up his mood. He couldn't help but to hug you tightly, snuggling to your shoulders and muttering "thank you love."

Lee Jeno

You decided to be cheesy for once and do that Cook-for-your-boyfriend-who's-still-sleeping-and-wake-him-up-for-breakfast scenario. You slipped out of your bed, careful not to wake Jeno who's tired from practice, and tiptoed your way to the kitchen. You were preparing to cook omelette and pancakes when you hear shuffling from the hallway. You let out a small scream when you felt Jeno's arms wrapped around you. "It's not fair, I was supposed to wake you up," you pouted. "You know how easy I wake up when you're not next to me," Jeno groggily said, eyes still closed but managed to steal a kiss from you. "Also that looks heavenly bub."

Lee Donghyuck

You heard that Haechan's sick. Everyone is concerned that he's not eating properly but the members knew that Haechan just want to be taken care by you. You rolled your eyes by the request but still did it since you love your boyfriend so much. You decided to cook him kimchi-jjigae, bringing the huge pot to their dorm so that the Dreamies can also have some. As you knocked onto his room, you feel devastated to see your boyfriend in a bad state. You woke him up and place the tray in front of him. "Feed me please," Haechan pouts and you wanted to smack the spoon on his forehead but you just obliged to his wish.

Na Jaemin

Your love language has always been cooking food for your boyfriend. That's why when Jaemin asked if you can cook food from your country, you were a bit surprised. It was hard to find local ingredients in Korea but you made it work. Jaemin accompanied you as you look for ingredients especially the condiments and spices from markets. When you two went home and started cooking, Jaemin watches you with amazement, impressed that you know how to cook your favorite meal by heart. The two of you are very domestic, even having him to taste the food, and when he thinks that it's delicious, your boyfriend gives you a thumbs up.

Zhong Chenle

It was late night when your boyfriend wanted ramen, he wasn't just craving instant ramen, he was craving your version of instant ramen. You agreed somehow since you're hungry too. The two of you went to the kitchen and was in luck because there's two packs left. Chenle watched as you prepared eggs, onion chives, and garlic cloves for the ramen, even advising him to just sit at a corner while you cook but no, Chenle doesn't want to. He was clinging to you like a koala as you cook. When the ramen is done cooking, Chenle sneaks a kiss to you as a form of thank you.

Park Jisung

You always love to do bento box, and Jisung is your number one victim. You know that it's rare for him have a proper meal at the right time, but you always make sure that if he sleeps over your place, he'll leave the next day with a bento box inside his bag. His hyungs do love teasing him about it but they coo about how sweet you are for making lunch, especially because the presentation looks cute! It was hard to destroy it it but Jisung eats it because you made an effort to make a bento box lunch for him.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct mark #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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cillians-sweetheart · 2 months ago

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The Marriage - Cillian Murphy

Cillian Murphy!Husband (34) x Virgin!Fem!Reader (18)

Plot: During the Middle-bronze age (The era of the bible's setting), a young girl reaches womanhood and is now marriageable and ripe to conceive.

(Story is based off the novel, The Red Tent by Anita Diamant)

Contents: Religious themes/rituals, speak of menstruation, arranged marriage, slight submission/praise (f receiving), smut, age-gap, oral (f receiving), unprotected pv, and breeding in a semi-public setting.

Let's just say for this scenario that she was a late bloomer and is 18. To prevent controversy.

My sisters gathered around me, with their blessings and songs of prayer. I cried of relief, as they each kissed the delicate skin on my hands and face. After the several, devastating years of being seen as nothing more than an unripe child who cannot marry, I woke to bleed my first blood.

Circled around me within the red tent, my sisters praised my ripening of womanhood. With great love they sang the song of the seventy gods, announcing the birth of my womb, “Whose fairness is like Anath’s fairness, Whose beauty like Astarte’s beauty. Astarte is now in your womb, You bear the power of Elath.”

I was fed sweet bread by the hands of the women, and drank fruity wine. Henna was rubbed onto my fingernails, and my eyelids were painted yellow. Every sacred jewel and gem owned by my mothers and sisters, coated my fingers and toes, and my wrists and ankles. Their voices sang with an aura of a goddess. Enchanting my sacred womb with the magic of fertility, and coming birth.

Aromatic oils were messaged on my belly, and my feet by my oldest sister Leah; a loving mother of eight. She was one of the most blessed amongst the four of my sisters. The rest have from only one to two boys due to an almost fatal labor lasting them days and days on of bleeding and suffering.

I slept through the night with my sisters laying on my sides, their arms interlaced around me as they each whispered to me with worship of my wedding and birthing to come. “A husband is the only man to take the robes from your body, to give you life to grow.” Leah’s gentle fingers ran through the strands of my hair. “That was my fathers teaching about husbands and wives… Until you rise from your monthly bleed, you shall become a bride.” Those were the last words I heard from Leah before I had fallen asleep.

The day of the new moon, and the ending of the week, I was brought to the wedding feast, surrounded by my sisters, and my mothers and aunties. A mother of mine knelt down to me, holding my hands in hers. “On my wedding night, my love, I was happier than I had ever been.” Her tone was wise as she gazed up into my shivering, virgin eyes. “But I was filled with dread. Fearing my husband would turn away from me in disgust.” She spoke to give me comfort but also a warning as any mother would do. Coming to my side, Leah said over my mother, “I thought the day would never end,” She added, laying the veil over my frightened face. “I could not be seen through my veil, nor could I see out clearly, but my husband Jacob stood to help me to my feet, leading me to the tent where we spent the seven days.”

As a young girl I always heard the gossiping stories from my sisters and aunties of the days with their husbands. Those first seven nights they’d spend together with lust and the temporary love of a first marriage. And soon after the swelling of their bellies and ankles, to the deathly, bloody birth of a beautiful baby.

After the feast of bread and lamb, I was brought to a man. His eyes shone down to me through my veil with a bright blue, and his skin was pale, and freckled. He wasn’t much so like the rest of the man. Not smelling of goats, and with good health.

The man introduced himself as Cillian. A man who was well spoken of throughout the site by my aunts and mothers. His large, but gentle hands lifted mine to where he kissed both lovingly.

“My angel… I take you as my wife, and as the beautiful mother to our children.” His voice was low and silky to my ears. From there he had led me to the tent where my sisters gathered and blessed me with their kisses and words of prayer. I felt hardly able to breath but excited about my marriage, and womanhood. I followed Cillian into the tent where I’d lay with him for the next lustful seven days.

My mother told me my husband would only lift up my robes and enter me still wearing his. From there his large but delicate hands ran over my shoulders and down my chest. His warm body came closer to me. The heat from his chest radiating between us. My eyes closed and my mind melted to his touch along my chest, slowly tearing away my robe.

The land around us began to quieten, and darken as the sun grew red along the horizon. My veil was not to be removed until darkness occurred. And when it did his eyes held pure love to my face as he lifted the veil. His gentle hands took my face. Holding my cheeks.

My hands reached out to his waist, reaching up and down his slim torso. He reached my face to his lips, kissing my cheeks, my lips, and the tip of my nose. With my hands I pulled myself closer against his body. I felt something I’ve never had before feeling his body. It was a real man, who would bless me with many sons. Sons as handsome, and gentle as their dear father.

My robe in slow, controlled motion, rolled down my shoulders and over my chest. I was revealed before my husband in the darkening tent. A hand from my cheek came down to my breast. He messages the squishy flesh while his kiss continues to seduce my lips.

His sex -as my sisters always told me- hardened against my stomach. The heat through his robe filled my belly with sensitivity, and caused my thighs to pulse.

Cillian began to lead me to the bed, where he laid back. His lips barely parted from mine as he gently lowered me. From there his plump lips slid and pecked at my soft neck. His kiss was tender, and with great passion as they traveled down my chest and over my hardened nipples. My hands ran up his back as I watched his sweet lips kiss lustfully down my bare torso. His hands explored my thighs, rubbing and spreading them between his head.

My tingling hips and thighs shivered as he kissed with his tongue deep between my legs. My core tightened and I inhaled deeply. I felt things through every nerve of my little body; new, pleasurable things.

He praised my virgin sex with his delicate kisses. Between his lips, he called me his angel, his beloved, his precious wife. He kissed, and licked me until the tightness beneath his robe became too much to handle.

Cillian lifted himself from between my shivering thighs and quickly pulled at the tent in his robe. I laid on my back looking up at his godly, handsome face. Then to his hands as he eagerly revealed his pulsing cock. Cut and cleaned so perfectly. The kind my sisters would giggle and praise about.

He held my legs open and rubbed with his cock between them over my soft, wet flesh. His hands messaged at my thighs, while teasing himself along my smooth folds. My heart pounded through my chest with nervousness, and anticipation to feel what my sisters and mothers would crave from a man; their husbands.

With a slow, easy thrust of his hips, I was opened for the first time. My womb filled with the wet pleasure of a man. His hips sunk deep against mine. Although it stung as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper, the pleasure in my stomach, and womb ached. I felt the breath in my chest get heavy, my exhales coming out as a high pitched moan of pleasure.

He continued to thrust against me, his pace increasing as he gave in to his dominant urges. My hips lifted and my legs wrapped tightly around his torso. I reached, and held onto him. Burying my moans into his muscular shoulder.

His breath was heavy, and made low, sensual groans. I reached his face, and kissed deeply on his lips. My sex flexed against his, causing him to moan, and shiver from on top of me. My legs began to twitch, and clenched tightly around Cillian. Our lips were moaning between one another's. Becoming increasingly loud and pleasurable to those who listen from outside.

My sisters, and mothers gathered within their tents and prayed for the fertilization of a healthy baby boy. And as one of my mothers once said, "The woman's orgasm is essential for a happy, healthy birth." Which was exactly what I was trying to do, and though I've never felt sexual release, I could tell by my immense pleasure that it was coming. Deep, internal tickles caused my legs to quiver around Cillian's slim torso, and my tight walls to squeeze his cock with a loving force.

He groaned deeply and his hips thrusted harder into me. The increased pleasure made our love making able to be heard through many tents. With the sweet sounds of pleasurable whispers and moans.

Wetness spread along both of our heated bodies. I felt myself leaking -as if I had been peeing myself- on the bed below us and onto his enlarged, pulsing cock. My back lifted, and again he quickened his beating to my soft flesh. More of my fluids continued to push against him and leak from my aroused entrance. I bit onto my tongue as the feelings, and my uncontrollable moans became too much. My sex, legs, and arms squeezed tightly around him. Shaking and whimpering my way through the sensitive pleasure.

With his last few forceful trusts, He groaned such a sexy sound and twitched from within my womb. I held onto his hot, sweaty body. His lips kissed lovingly on my neck, and I kissed onto his head.

We laid in ones another's arms, praying with our love that a son will be born. Before we were to sleep, Cillian laid gentle kisses along my womb through my belly. His touch was praising as he rubbed and kissed my body. Again kissing the sweet arousal from my wet sex.

In the blackened tent, we slept in the warmth and love between our bodies. Behind my bare back he laid, his arm over my torso, lovingly stroking my cheek and shoulder until I had fallen asleep.

In my sleep I made great prayers to have a full, rounded womb. Filled with life, and love of an infant. A boy, with the beautiful sex of his father, and the handsome looks to gain many, many wives and children.

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian fanfic #cillian fic #cillian murphy x you #thomas shelby #robert fischer #religious #smut #the red tent

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thrillered · 6 months ago

Note

idk if you are taking request, but if so

is it cool to request surprising spencer in lingerie? doesn't have to get smutty btw just feel like he deserves a lil something

Your Surprise | Spencer Agnew x reader

Slightly NSFW🚨

Pls enjoy ily

Spencer was a great boyfriend. You loved him very dearly. He was the picture of perfection in your relationship. You had been living together for 3 years and had a comfortable routine.

Lately though, things were weird.

Spencer had been working a lot more lately. You knew his job was demanding, especially since he got his promotion last year and that his company was working on a few big things right now.

He was clearly overworking himself and your relationship was feeling the consequences. It was neither of your guys fault, you both were working hard– you worked as a game dev and just finished a large project.

You used to get home around the same time, now he was getting home over an hour later than you, quiet, tense, and exhausted. You hadn’t been getting more than a kiss hello and goodbye from him in weeks. He was usually a very generous lover and you always tried to give back to him.

—

Spencer had sent you a text around lunch letting you know that the project was getting pushed back by two weeks and he wasn’t sure when he would get home tonight. That was okay, of course, but you were disappointed.

You had a half day and decided to try and do something extra nice for Spencer. You went to the grocery store and picked up a bunch of fresh ingredients so he would be able to come home to a hot home cooked meal. While you were driving home to begin food prepping you noticed a new clothing store in a strip mall.

Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to stop in. Most of the clothing wasn’t exactly your style but there were a few pairs of jeans that fit you perfectly and you noticed they had a very nice lingerie section.

Feeling confident, you tried on a few pairs. You thought a new pair of lingerie would make both you and Spencer feel excited. You both had been very tense, especially Spencer, and your lack of an intimate life lately wasn’t helping. You immediately bought your favorite three pairs, smiling to yourself at the thought of surprising your wonderful boyfriend.

—

Spencer let you know he would be home around 8 pm. It was around 7:40 and your meal was simmering on the stove, filling the space with delicious aromatics. You had a plate of eclairs you made sitting on the counter as well. You went and changed into a pair of your new lingerie. It was a black matching set with silky bows and delicate lace. You felt very confident in it, admiring yourself in the mirror before throwing on a t-shirt and sweats.

You were plating the meals when you heard his key in the door.

“Hey babe.” He yelled through your home.

You walked into the foyer to welcome him. “Hi love.” You greeted, giving him a hug and a kiss. “How was work?”

“It was rough, I won't lie.” He sighed, taking off his shoes and jacket. “You cooking?” He asked, noticing the aroma in the air.

“Yeah,” You shrugged, “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Oh babe, you don’t have to do anything, just being here is everything I need.”

“You’ve been working so hard though.” You said, leading him into the kitchen. “And I assume you haven’t eaten in a while. Come eat, it’s still hot.”

He sat down with you, enjoying the food you made. This might have been the longest conversation you'd had with him in over a week. You both were laughing and having a great time. You felt incredibly relieved at how the night was going. Your heart felt so full of love. You missed this, you missed being around Spencer.

“Have room for dessert?” You asked, clearing his empty plate.

“You made dessert too?” He asked, a large smile on his face.

“Of course I did.” You brought out the plate of eclairs, explaining the different flavors you had made.

You and Spencer shared a few, watching as he taste tested the baked goods.

“God you are incredible.” He praised. “Everything was delicious, thank you.”

“Of course babe, you deserve it.” You smiled, wiping some whipped cream from the corner of his lip. “You’ve been so tense lately.”

You walked around the table, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him before placing a soft kiss on his neck. “Like really tense, wow.” You remarked, feeling the tension in his back and neck. You began massaging away the knots, smiling when he sighed in relief.

He turned around when you finished, standing and resting his hands on your hips. He moved his hands under your shirt, his eyebrows shooting up when he felt the soft lace. “What's this?” He asked.

“One last little surprise?” You asked, a flirtatious glint in your eye.

“Surprise away.” He said breathlessly.

You grabbed his hand and brought him into your shared bedroom, pushing him to sit in the bed. He sat back, watching you intently.

Facing away from your boyfriend you slowly stripped off your shirt, revealing the top half of the set, allowing your hair to flow down over your shoulders. You slowly turned around, noting the sharp inhale from Spencer.

“Holy shit.” He breathed, his pupils dilating.

“You like it? Wanna see the rest?” You purred.

He nodded eagerly, brushing a hand over his blushing face. You sauntered up to him, biting your lip slightly. “Help me out?” You asked, gesturing for him to untie your sweats and pull them down.

He did as you offered, almost salivating looking at you. He was enamored. You looked so beautiful and sexy he didn’t know what to do. “You are so fucking perfect.” He managed to get out, his mind going fuzzy at the sight of you.

You stepped out of your sweats, doing a playful spin for him. You had barely made it back around to face him before he was on his feet, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You immediately reciprocated, excited by his eagerness.

He ran his hands up and down your sides, groaning at the silk and lace beneath his fingertips. He had been so busy that he hadn’t really noticed the lack in your intimate life and now that you had lit a spark he felt like he was on fire. He couldn’t get enough of you, his hands were everywhere, heating every inch of you.

He pushed you towards the bed, laying you on your back. He disconnected your lips, standing above you. You tried to pull him back into you, missing his touch immediately. “Just let me look at you.” He said, trying to memorize every detail of you with eyes full of lust.

You were laying on your back, your hair splayed out behind you, the soft moonlight accentuating your soft skin and curves. Spencer wasn’t sure he had seen anything more beautiful. You were a work of art, the greatest renaissance painting. He felt so lucky to have you.

You smiled up at him, blushing under his intense gaze. You ran your hand through your hair and down your torso, landing to rest gently on your hip. “Spencer, I need you, please.” You pleaded, your chest rising and falling with each breath.

That was all the encouragement he needed, he quickly removed his shirt, revealing his broad chest. In an instant he was back on top of you, slotting his lips in yours. You ran your hands up and down his chest, tracing the line of hair that trailed down his abdomen before reaching his belt.

With quick and precise fingers you unbuckled the metal, pulling the leather away from the loops in a swift motion. Spencer’s lips left yours, moving across your cheek and down your jaw. You sighed in pleasure as he made his way onto your neck, threading your fingers through his curls that you love so much, pulling on them slightly as he nipped at your pulse point, earning a satisfied groan from him.

He continued his barrage of open mouth kisses down your body, paying extra attention to the areas covered in lace. With one of his hands holding himself above you he circled the other one under you, massaging the plush skin of your thigh and ass.

Strained moans got caught in your throat with each touch you shared. Spencer had kissed down your torso, kneeling on the ground in front of where your hips laid. He hooked his fingers around the lacy bottoms of the lingerie set.

“Wait,” You breathed, stopping Spencer before he could pull the cloth down. “You’re working so hard,” you began pulling him up by his chin and stopping a few inches from your face. “You’re so tense,” You rubbed down his strong shoulders. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“You’ve already done so much..” Spencer countered, placing a series of lengthening kisses on your lips.

“Sh sh sh,” you shushed, shrugging him off. “I love you Spencer, let me make you feel good.” You persuaded, your eyes sparkling with love and passion. “Let me take all the stress away.”

#spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew/reader #shayne topp #smosh games #smosh #smosh pit #smosh spencer #smosh cast #smosh fanfiction

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libraryofolive · 7 months ago

Text

use the door!

featuring: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

word count: 879

genre: fluff, crack

synopsis: You're stood happily cooking dinner alone in your kitchen, when your boyfriend sneaks up on you. Unluckily for him, you didn't know he'd come home from work already.

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

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Everything was calm in your apartment, or so you thought. The sun was starting to set, casting the kitchen of your apartment in a golden glow that seemed to make everything prettier. Your favourite album was flowing through the room as you hummed along to it, a smile on your face. You stood in front of the hob, stirring a pot of aromatic food that you couldn’t wait to tuck into later with your boyfriend, Toji.

You felt a pair of hands snake around your waist, settling on your hips with a gentle but strong grip. Usually, you wouldn’t think anything of it, your lover often liked standing behind you whilst you cooked. However, as far as you were aware, Toji was off doing a job that you didn’t want to know the details of, and you were alone in your apartment.

Your instincts kicked in, and you threw your elbow back into the chest of the stranger stood in your kitchen. The man stumbled back, his grip on your faltering, allowing you to quickly turn around and land a hit straight into his nose. Thank god Toji had taught you some self defence on the off chance something like this would happen.

“What the fuck, doll?” The tension in your muscles relaxed as you recognised the voice of the not-so-strange man in your kitchen. However, that tension immediately returned when you realised that you had just sucker punched your boyfriend. Blood was flowing out of his nose and was now covering his hands, which was cupped around his throbbing facial feature.

“Toji? Oh my God!” You ran to get some tissues, rushing back to his side to mop up all the blood.

“What the hell was that for?” He asked, a mix of frustration, confusion, and was that pride in his eyes?

“I thought some creep had broken in and was trying it on with me! I didn’t know you were home, I didn’t hear you or the door go!”

“…came in through the window.” Toji admitted after a beat of silence, tipping his head back and squeezing his nose, the white tissue he was holding quickly turning red.

“Why would you do that? Can’t you use the door like a normal person?”

“Didn’t want any nosy neighbours to see me with blood on my shirt. Although from now on I guess I can just say my girl punched me in the face.”

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of superhuman assassin, how the hell did I managed to get two hits on you?”

“Forgive me for letting my guard down when I’m at home with you, doll.”

“Aw, you let your guard down when you’re with me?”

“Trust you to try to turn sucker punching me into one of your ‘cute’ moments.“ He grumbled, rolling his eyes. You handed him some new tissue, the blood flow becoming less steady as the conversation occurred. You fussed over the tall man, handing him an ice pack once the blood stopped to try and reduce any swelling that could happen. You turned your stove off, the both of you heading into your living room to sit more comfortably until Toji’s pain subsided.

Somehow, the calm atmosphere you had once had in the kitchen returned, even if less than 10 minutes ago you had attacked your boyfriend. Cleaning him up and tending to his injuries wasn’t anything new in your relationship, as you were often the one to patch up the small cuts he tended to get at work. However, what was new was being the one that had caused said injury. To say you were mortified was an understatement, but Toji didn’t seem all that upset with you.

“Y’know doll, I’m kinda proud of you.” He smirked.

“Proud of me? For hitting you? What is wrong with you?” Your face scrunched up in confusion, an expression Toji was fond of.

“You defended yourself, love. You used what I taught you, and you did it well. Plus, who wouldn’t be proud their girlfriend can pack a punch. Guess I don’t have to worry about ya as much.”

“You big softie.” You lightly smacked his arm, a wide smile plastered on your face. You warmed at his words, and heaved an internal sigh of relief he wasn’t mad. You could not be bothered dealing with a pissy Toji today.

“Only for you doll, only for you.” He smiled, red flakes of dried blood still dusting his nostrils. You wiped them off for him, before lightly kissing the tip of his nose. He winced at the contact, nose obviously still sore from your attack. Your eyes turned into saucers, remembering that you could have just broken his nose, but he shrugged it off and pulled you into his chest until you were lying on top of him on the couch.

“I’ll remember to let you know when I get home next time.” He said.

“And don’t sneak up on me in the kitchen again. I could have a knife next time.”

“You’d never stab me.”

“I bet until today you thought I’d never punch you.”

“…Shut up.”

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