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#how to reduce weight at home
happyhealth-703 · 2 years
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Tone and lean arms excercises at home
Without equipment
For better results click here
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stunfiskz · 1 year
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btw while my brain is in glee s6 mode i am the only person who understands spencer. ok
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shlimon · 2 years
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What exactly is exercise?
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It's All About Weight Loss
From people suffering from chronic diseases to those struggling with self-image issues, excess weight—read ‘fat’—is a common problem. There are health risks from obesity and excess weight.
Read more: https://www.freedomfromdiabetes.org/blog/post/it's-all-about-weight-loss-ffd/2784
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nasa · 2 months
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Athletes Go for the Gold with NASA Spinoffs
NASA technology tends to find its way into the sporting world more often than you’d expect. Fitness is important to the space program because astronauts must undergo the extreme g-forces of getting into space and endure the long-term effects of weightlessness on the human body. The agency’s engineering expertise also means that items like shoes and swimsuits can be improved with NASA know-how.
As the 2024 Olympics are in full swing in Paris, here are some of the many NASA-derived technologies that have helped competitive athletes train for the games and made sure they’re properly equipped to win.
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The LZR Racer reduces skin friction drag by covering more skin than traditional swimsuits. Multiple pieces of the water-resistant and extremely lightweight LZR Pulse fabric connect at ultrasonically welded seams and incorporate extremely low-profile zippers to keep viscous drag to a minimum.
Swimsuits That Don’t Drag
When the swimsuit manufacturer Speedo wanted its LZR Racer suit to have as little drag as possible, the company turned to the experts at Langley Research Center to test its materials and design. The end result was that the new suit reduced drag by 24 percent compared to the prior generation of Speedo racing suit and broke 13 world records in 2008. While the original LZR Racer is no longer used in competition due to the advantage it gave wearers, its legacy lives on in derivatives still produced to this day.
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Trilion Quality Systems worked with NASA’s Glenn Research Center to adapt existing stereo photogrammetry software to work with high-speed cameras. Now the company sells the package widely, and it is used to analyze stress and strain in everything from knee implants to running shoes and more.
High-Speed Cameras for High-Speed Shoes
After space shuttle Columbia, investigators needed to see how materials reacted during recreation tests with high-speed cameras, which involved working with industry to create a system that could analyze footage filmed at 30,000 frames per second. Engineers at Adidas used this system to analyze the behavior of Olympic marathoners' feet as they hit the ground and adjusted the design of the company’s high-performance footwear based on these observations.
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Martial artist Barry French holds an Impax Body Shield while former European middle-weight kickboxing champion Daryl Tyler delivers an explosive jump side kick; the force of the impact is registered precisely and shown on the display panel of the electronic box French is wearing on his belt.
One-Thousandth-of-an-Inch Punch
In the 1980s, Olympic martial artists needed a way to measure the impact of their strikes to improve training for competition. Impulse Technology reached out to Glenn Research Center to create the Impax sensor, an ultra-thin film sensor which creates a small amount of voltage when struck. The more force applied, the more voltage it generates, enabling a computerized display to show how powerful a punch or kick was.
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Astronaut Sunita Williams poses while using the Interim Resistive Exercise Device on the ISS. The cylinders at the base of each side house the SpiraFlex FlexPacks that inventor Paul Francis honed under NASA contracts. They would go on to power the Bowflex Revolution and other commercial exercise equipment.
Weight Training Without the Weight
Astronauts spending long periods of time in space needed a way to maintain muscle mass without the effect of gravity, but lifting free weights doesn’t work when you’re practically weightless. An exercise machine that uses elastic resistance to provide the same benefits as weightlifting went to the space station in the year 2000. That resistance technology was commercialized into the Bowflex Revolution home exercise equipment shortly afterwards.
Want to learn more about technologies made for space and used on Earth? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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colonelarr0w · 6 months
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Everything was perfect. 
"You may kiss the bride." 
Your rosy lips turn upward in a lovesick smile, arms lifting to wrap around Gojo's neck and bring his face closer to yours, the tips of your noses brushing against one another as his arms loop around your waist. With one hand, he holds your waist, and with the other, he slowly begins to lift your leg, hooking it over his hip and dipping you down.  
You let out a tearful giggle, the sound mixing with Gojo's chuckle as he slots his lips against yours, pouring years of love and adoration into a singular kiss. You squeeze your arms around him to steady yourself, smiling against his lips as they move against your own.  
You pull back from him just as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, no doubt wanting to shamelessly make out with you in front of an audience. But with your family sitting somewhere in the crowd, one of you had to demonstrate self-control.  
"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Gojo," Gojo whispers, his breath fanning over your lips as he continues to hold you close. You dive forward, pecking his lips again. He smiles at you, tearful aquamarine eyes crinkling at the corners as he stares down at you; his little wife. 
Everything was perfect. 
"I'm home!" Gojo announces as he kicks his shoes off, turning his body halfway to close the front door and peering around the dim-lighted living room. His eyebrows furrow, arms slapping against his sides as he realizes that you're not running to him to embrace him.  
Slowly, he walks further into the house, curiously peering into the kitchen only to be met with the sight of nothing. Worry sinks into his chest, but he doesn't allow himself to get worked up just yet.  
"Honey?" Gojo's voice is a quiet whisper as he enters the living room, eyes met with a heartwarming sight; you're sat in the center of the couch, arms wound around a sleeping Megumi. The boy leans impossibly further into your side, his head tucked comfortably into the crook of your neck with his body splayed over your own like a weighted blanket.  
His lips turn upward in a soft smile, hand reaching for his phone to photograph the moment and commit it to memory. But just as his fingers brush his phone, something tells him to instead live in the moment as opposed to capturing it.  
Gojo moves to kneel silently beside the couch, reaching out his index finger and lovingly stroking it against your cheek, smiling to himself as your nose scrunches up and you stir slightly. Those eyes that he could spend hours gazing into flutter open, a sleepy smile curling the corners of your lips upward.  
"Hi 'Toru," you whisper, yawning.  
"Hi pretty girl." 
Everything was perfect. 
"Satoru Gojo!" 
Gojo pauses, every bone in his body stilling as he slowly turns to look over his shoulder, swallowing his pride (and dignity) as you stomp over, Megumi not far behind. Gojo glances quickly at Yuuji and Nobara, silently asking them for help – but immediately the two first-years look around, not wanting to stand in the way of your wrath.  
"Hey honey," Gojo says with a smile, already feeling sweat build up against his forehead as you grow closer, eyes flaring with an anger that he had only ever seen once before – and honestly, he had no idea how he had even survived. "What's – uh – what's going on?" 
"What's going on?! You mean to tell me that you're going to stand there and act like nothing is wrong?" Your voice raises an octave or two in volume, making Gojo cringe and shrink in on himself. It was almost entertaining, really. Watching the 6'3 Special Grade Sorcerer be reduced to a shaking mess at the sight of his angered wife.  
Gojo remains silent, not wanting to respond in the fear that you would bite his head off.  
The staring contest between yourself and Gojo is tense, only made worse by the other pairs of eyes that watch quietly from the sidelines.  
Yuuji shifts closer to Megumi, craning his neck just low enough to whisper into his ear, "What's going on?" 
Megumi only smirks, lifting his arms to cross them over his chest. "He ate her leftovers last night." 
Everything was perfect... 
"I understand that your work is important, but you're barely home anymore," you say desperately, closing Megumi's bedroom door and turning on your heel to glance at Gojo. He rubs his hands against his face, skin catching the groan that falls from his lips. 
"I can't just say no to what the higher-ups want me to do, honey. You know that," Gojo responds, not failing to notice how your teeth catch your bottom lip, roughly biting down into the supple skin.  
"You have a family here 'Toru. Your missions are getting more and more dangerous and I – I don't want to be sitting on the couch one day and you just," you pause to swallow the growing lump in your throat, "don't come home." 
Gojo softens, his heart hammering in his chest as he stares silently down at you. Your eyes shine with tears, tears that he desperately wants to reach out and brush away – but something inside of him tells him not to.  
"Megumi needs you here. Hell, I need you here," you say desperately, laying a palm flat against your chest as you step forward to close the distance between yourself and Gojo.  
Something inside you damn near breaks as your husband takes a step back from you.  
"I know. Trust me I know. But there's only so much I can do. They need me (Y/N)," Gojo says. Immediately – the moment that those words fall from his lips – he wishes that he could fucking swallow them.  
You freeze, body standing rigid as your eyes blankly stare at him. Any ounce of emotion, anything that might have made you human is suddenly gone, replaced instead by a robotic stare that chills Gojo down to his very core. 
Silently, you brush past him, shoulder knocking against his chest as you walk down the hallway and vanish into the living room. Gojo stares after you, turning his head towards Megumi's door and screwing his eyes shut – fuck.  
Everything was perfect...? 
"Megumi! Have you seen your mother?" Gojo asks, waving his hand wildly in the air as the raven-haired teenager turns to glance at him, raising an eyebrow in both annoyance and curiosity.  
"She just went out on a field mission, why?" 
Gojo's heart sinks, body deflating as he pockets the necklace that he had planned to give you; a heart locket with a picture from your wedding day inside of it. Megumi watches his adoptive father's shaking hands, and a pang of curiosity flows through his body, but he makes no mention of it.  
"Oh, no reason. I just wanted to give her something," Gojo answers dismissively, waving his hand at Megumi before he lets out a disappointed sigh.  
Everything was perfect? 
"I understand, I'll tell Shoko to prepare a bed now," Ichiji says with a swift nod, though it doesn't go unnoticed how he swallows the lump in his throat. He removes the phone from his ear, pressing down on its red "hang-up" button and stowing the device away in his pocket.  
Curiously, Gojo peers at the assistant manager through his blindfold, tilting his head curiously as the younger man stands from his seat, beelining for the door and disappearing into the hallway.  
The snowy-haired male stands, following closely behind Ichiji and watching as the man's back tenses, his hands curling into white-knuckled fists. What the fuck was going on? 
His breath catches in his throat as he enters the infirmary. One of the tables is occupied, the body covered by a thin white tarp that's stained with the blood of whoever lies underneath.  
Ichiji glances at Shoko, who only stares down at the stained tarp with a numb glint to her eyes. Her hand extends, fingers wrapping over the top of the tarp and lowering it to reveal who lies beneath.  
Gojo's stomach turns.  
Was everything perfect? 
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hellenhighwater · 1 month
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So, every animal shelter around me is heinously overloaded/understaffed and begging for fosters. I am considering applying to be one for a momma cat with kittens, but I don't know if I have enough space/time/energy to do so and don't know anyone I can ask IRL about the experience. Are you willing to go into detail about what exactly foster duty entails? Also, do the fosters coexist peacefully with Malice and Vice or do you need to keep them separated?
Fostering can be a relatively small time investment, or it can be a big one. Nearly every shelter hits capacity in the warm months, due to the overwhelming quantity of kittens.
I talked to my local shelter and explained that I don't have a ton of time to work with--I can't take neonatal kittens, or ones that need regular hand feeding, or basically anyone medically fragile. But I can take litters that are doing well, who just need time and space to grow big enough to hit the minimum weight to be spayed/neutered and adopted. On a daily basis, I swap out water, food, and clean litter, plus general tidying-up as needed. That takes maaaybe half an hour to an hour--most days I do it before work. Because most of my litters have moms, the moms do a lot of the work of feeding and cleaning the babies! They may need bathing sometimes, depending on how much of a mess they make. Beyond that, I try to spend time with them as much as I can--I'll go in and eat my meals with them, sit and do digital work, or watch movies while I do projects with them around. The goal is to socialize and handle them as much as you can.
Kittens generally litter train themselves, but accidents happen when they're little, so a space with easily cleaned floors is ideal. I start my fosters out in a jumbo sized dog crate, allowing for supervised time outside of that, and then eventually give them my whole den to run around in when they're old enough to be more independently mobile (basically when they're old enough to realize that losing sight of their mom does not mean they're lost forever, and can navigate the space on their own.) I do keep Mal and Vice out of the den when I have fosters, but there's a glass door so theycan see each other.
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Most shelters with foster programs will supply everything you need for them in terms of food, meds, and litter--you just give them space and time. I got my own jumbo dog crate to use, and I pick up secondhand towels for cheap--that gives me something easy to wash for them to sleep on. If you're just getting started, a shelter can probably find you an "easy" litter to begin with. Not that there's ever a 100% guarantee, because kittens are fragile, but usually they can set up a litter that seems strong. At least for me, there's an urge to play the hero and take on too much--I have to be careful, and accept that I only have so much time to work with; I have to say no to some of the more tiny, delicate kittens, and leave them to be fostered by those who can handle them. Those people are awesome and I'm not one of them.
If you're setting up space for fosters, I'd choose a place that's easy to clean, that's not going to leave them vulnerable to being bothered by other animals or kids all the time (they sleep a lot), and which allows for you to spend time with them. You can keep your fosters in a large dog crate or other kennel--honestly, it's comparable to how the shelter would house them--or in a room you have set up to handle them, but I'd hesitate to give them complete free run of your place unless you live somewhere quite small. Kittens are fast, and you really don't want to lose one. I remove rugs and less durable furniture from their space as well, and sometimes will cover the couch in a thick blanket to reduce claw marks.
Overall, I think it's totally worth it. It's fun to get to have them through the baby days, and they have more individualized attention in a home than they would get at the shelter. It's worth trying! If it doesn't pan out--or if they start needing more attention than you can give--you can give them back, but in the meanwhile they have a more enjoyable home than a shelter.
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pseudowho · 10 months
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Yet Another Nanami Kento Sex Pollen Fic, Part Two
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The reader encounters an aphrodisiac diffusing Curse...which she brings home to Nanami Kento.
Read Part 1 first HERE!
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When you had looked up through the billowing steam of your shower, and seen Kento's broad figure filling the doorway, your conscious thought had juddered to a halt, and you became all compulsion and instinct.
Nanami Kento stood, his weight shifted slightly forward on one leg, as one hand reached up to grab the doorframe, and the other squeezed his cock, which was hardening rapidly under his hand. He was exactly as you had left him; shirt splayed open with all the buttons ripped off, and trousers shunted down at the front, clinging to the jut of his hipbones, trail of honey-coloured hair pathing the way to his hand, which was stroking himself so keenly.
I suppose he didn't think to leave my clothes alone, you thought, but...I owe him.
You met Kento's eyes and tried to read him as your mind stuttered, and your heart leapt into your mouth as Kento crossed the room in three long strides. As you grasped the shower door and began to open it, the glass banged and rattled as Kento's shaking hand gripped it and slammed it closed.
"...Kento? It's okay, I know how it feels. Come on, I can he--"
"No," he spat. Kento held the door closed, but his hand was quaking, at war with itself. You felt your heart pound as noticed his other hand, gripping his throbbing length, the tip now an angry red-purple.
"I don't want to hurt you," Kento forced, "This is...different. I could stop you, but you...you couldn't stop me...if you wanted to."
Your heart clenched for him. You knew the desperate need he was experiencing, and he had helped you. But, as you took him in, ostensibly huge, all raised planes of muscle over strong bones, you knew he was right. But still--
"I trust you, Kento. I know you wouldn't hurt me." Kento looked at you darkly, hungry and wolfish, teeth bared.
"I wouldn't be so sure," he pressed, and the way his eyes lingered on your body, naked breasts heaving and wet under the steam, Kento thought of breaking you underneath him, the effects of the pollen having made your wellbeing completely second to his need, he felt like he'd surely die unless he used your body to relieve his own.
Forcing himself to look away from you as you pressed your hands against the glass, looking at him with such tender concern that he could have wept, Kento felt every thread of his nervous system on fire.
With a sinking nausea as Kento felt this...this...substance working through his synapses, his body and brain were getting hotter and hotter and his grasp on rational thought and decision-making were reducing. His brain was no longer working. He panted, hand letting go of his cock to run through his hair. Kento shivered at how erotic his simple touches to himself felt. After tugging his hair sharply at the roots, nearly groaning aloud with the pleasure, Kento's fingers trailed to his lips, ducking two fingers past them to suck on his own fingertips. He moaned around them, and you watched him, fascinated and terrified at how animalistic Kento had become.
His skin felt too tight, every sense piqued, and his hand on the shower door shook harder as he heard you switch the water off; as if detached from the rest of his body, this hand squeezed the door closed, but his other hand pressed, with his forehead, feverishly against the glass as he stared you down. Looking into his eyes, you saw less and less Kento there as he struggled to contain himself. Kento breathed out shakily.
"I'm going to open the door," he spoke, each word pained and deliberate, "and you're going to run, and lock yourself in our room. Are you ready?" You stared at Kento, speechless.
"Are you ready?" he barked and you jolted, nodding frantically. His white knuckled hand swung the door open and you leapt past him, rounding the corner as you ran to your bedroom, hearing quick footsteps approaching behind you and you got inside the room, slammed the door and locked it--
A fist banged on the outside of the door as Kento roared, and you fell back onto the bed, still drenched, hair dripping down your back (or is it cold sweat?). You heard footsteps, flat, heavy and pacing.
Kento ran his fingernails up and down the back of his head and neck, pacing furiously, ashamed of how quickly he nearly hunted you down after he had let you out of the shower. Reaching down, lifting his legs one by one, he wrenched his slippers off and lobbed them across the room where they bounced meekly off the high windows. Throwing his shirt and trousers to the sofa, he sat hard on the floor with his back to your door, face in his hands as he genuinely worried he may die from the heat and desire pooling in his stomach and coiling outwards through him.
Kento's cock sat, heavy and throbbing against his belly, pressed upwards by the waistband of his boxers. The hair on his stomach was wet with pre-cum. Pushing his boxers fully down, with one arm draped over his eyes, Kento began to stroke himself, squeezing hard, desperate and chasing relief.
She felt better after she came, he thought, panting as his hand stroked fast, wet strokes from tip to base, she felt better, you will too. Kento continued to work on himself, feeling tears prick in his eyes and growling when he felt absolutely no relief.
On the other side of the door, you tentatively knocked. "Kento?" You heard a low groan in response. "Look, I...I know you're trying to keep me safe, which I love, but...I know you're going to need something other than your own hand."
Silence. You continued, "So, you can come in here and I promise I can take it, or we can call Shoko?"
"We are absolutely not calling Shoko about this," Kento forced, low and angry. Your lower belly twisted, and you knew you needed to force Kento's hand. He needed this. He needed you.
"Or, I could just..." you started, sounding braver than you felt, leaning your back against the wall beside the door, "touch myself, and you can cum in your hand to the thought of me."
Kento was revealing in his silence. You continued, moaning softly as your fingers began to rub small circles around your clit, and you heard a heavy weight shift against the door. "I'm wet," you gasped softly, "you'd barely need to do anything, just hold me down and sink straight into me." Kento growled on the other side of the door.
"Stop it," he barked, "I'm warning you."
"I can take it," you pressed, continuing to pleasure yourself, moaning sweetly, folds wet and glistening now, "Please come and fuck me...daddy."
The door flew inwards off its hinges with a bang, wood splintered, and you squealed as Kento reached around the doorway and gripped you hard by the throat. Using his other hand to strip his boxers completely away, he pulled you nose to nose by the throat, your tiptoes scraping against the floor as you gasped, lightheaded.
"You can take it, can you?" he rumbled, pupils blown with lust, his cock hard against your belly. Pressing a hard kiss, all teeth and tongue, to your mouth, he threw you onto your bed where you bounced, face down, "Let's see, shall we?"
You squealed again as Kento grabbed you by the waist and threw you up the bed. Lifting your face from the pillows, you moved to turn to Kento, "I'm sorry, I just--" You were cut off with a cry as Kento grabbed your hair by the roots, forcing your face forwards. Kento began to position you like a mannequin, pressing your tummy down and your arse up, and finally grabbing both of your hands where he made your fingers clasp to the headboard of the bed. Stretched and quaking, you felt Kento's hands grip you firmly by the hips.
"Hold onto something," he growled, before bottoming out inside your dripping pussy in one sharp thrust. You cried out, hips trying to scoot forwards up the bed as you adjusted to his size, seeming bigger than usual with how thick and aroused the pollen had made him; Kento slapped the side of your thigh hard and you squeaked, the pleasure sharp and bitter.
Kento slapped your sex back onto his cock one, two, three times and came with a shout, the orgasm bursting along his skin, his moaning a ragged, injured sound. Time stood still as he poured cum into you, feeling it drip down his balls and your thighs, carrying on and on until his moans turned to low pants, continuing to thrust slowly into you.
Kento waited for the desperate clawing at the back of his neck, the itching at the base of his brain, to pass...his stomach swooped, like falling at the start of a dream, to recognise that he felt no better. Furious, devastated, Kento grasped you by the hair to pull you upright, his chest feeling like a brick wall against your back, as his cock remained throbbing and hard inside you. Still holding you by the hair, he tipped your head sideways, biting deeply into the soft skin above your pulse point.
Kento felt sickly delighted to feel you shaking in his arms, and thrust upwards into you, cock gliding effortlessly along the tight wet slick of your pussy. His tongue and teeth ghosted along the shell of your ear, and he whispered low and dangerous, as he splayed his huge, fine-boned hand across your lower belly.
"How deep am I?" He thrust again, harder, letting go of your hair as your head fell back against his shoulder. You squeaked as his knees batted yours aside, forcing you to fall deeper around his lap. "Can I get any deeper?" His freed hand gripped the side of your hips, pressing you down onto him. You gasped, mewling and writhing as you felt his cock bully against your cervix, and as he pressed your belly inwards and downwards, you twisted, squeaking as you saw stars, both hands reaching back to clasp desperately round the back of Kento's neck.
Kento buried his nose into you, sniffing deeply. "Are you ovulating?" he intoned, continuing his relentless assault on your limp body as he lifted you, pressing you up and down slowly and deliberately, stretching you, as you felt that if he went any deeper he'd surely thrust past your cervix and into your womb. You almost sobbed, voice muffling as his hand left your hips and clasped over your lower face, shushing you, almost tenderly.
"I know you are...I can smell it," he groaned, slamming you down hard, enjoying your hot little breaths behind his huge hand, "It's...delicious." You wanted to tell him how close to finishing you were, but were totally voiceless with his hand over your mouth. Your pussy fluttered tellingly around him, and Kento chuckled.
"Don't worry, you'll get your turn. Shit, this stuff is...it's..." Kento felt the urgent need to orgasm begin to burn through him again, and he rumbled his displeasure, throwing you back onto the bed and flipping you, overwhelmed by the urge to breed you, and keep you home so he could fuck you all day if he wanted to.
Pressing your knees up to your chest, your face burned with pleasure and pain as Kento slammed into you again, his hips snapping wetly against yours at a relentless pace. He grabbed your hands and brought them around your knees, forcing you to hold your legs in place as he lifted your arse off the bed, dragging your pussy back and forth along his cock on time with his thrusts.
A dam broke inside you, feeling Kento so deeply that it felt like he owned your whole body, and you came with a sob, wounded by the pleasure as you trembled, completely used as Kento continued to drag himself in and out of you, soft splatters of his and your cum dripping into the bed every time he thrust into you.
Kento chased his high, needing release or he'd surely perish, and he revelled in the tight squeeze of your plush walls around him, grunting and moaning unashamedly as you squirmed, babbling his name, which could be another language as far as Kento was concerned as his brain sank into the primal urge to keep cumming inside you until you were round and beautiful, full of him. The thought spurred him on, and he leaned over you, caging you in with his arms, your thighs crunched against your abdomen, and Kento took your nipple between his teeth, whining around you.
You grasped the back of his head, pressing it into your breast, feeling his pubic bone slam against your clit, your second orgasm hypersensitive and painful, your hands shaking as they tugged Kento's hair, your lips trembling with easy praise for him.
Kento tasted the bitter tang of blood and metal along the sides of his tongue as he came again, his skin electric, and dying stars in his eyes, and growled a bestial growl of relief as he began to feel the itching desire ebb away, finally satiated.
Pulling out of you, he looked down at the mess between your legs, puffy folds covered in a pinkish mix of blood and semen, and Kento groaned into his hand.
"I'm so...I'm so sorry," he panted, shaking and exhausted, reaching up to stroke your forehead, pulling your arm from over your face. You smiled weakly at him, bruised, aching and completely spent.
"It's okay," you reassured him, stroking his abs softly, in small circles, "but we really should get rid of those clothes. And have a bath." Kento nodded, swiping his sweaty hair back off his head. He glanced behind him, blushing faintly.
"And...fix that door."
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Would it have been sexier if he'd kept the slippers on? Uncertain.
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10 Ways to Target that stubborn Belly Fat
In fact, when people talk about weight loss, they mean fat loss, and usually the fat they’re referring to is belly fat. Carrying that excess fat around the abdomen puts you at high risk from lifestyle disorders like heart disease, high BP, diabetes and, even, some cancers.
Read the blog to know more: https://www.freedomfromdiabetes.org/blog/post/10-ways-to-target-that-stubborn-belly-fat/2750
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rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months
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fixation
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words: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, reader has an oral fixation
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @dream-pink
“baby i’m running out to the store real quick, do you want anything?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he walks through the living room where you’ve been for the past hour, book splayed open in your lap.
“a sucker please? cherry or strawberry preferably.” you answer, only half paying attention to your boyfriend as your eyes continue to skim over the text.
“sure thing baby.” rafe says, tucking his wallet into his back pocket before heading out.
time flies as you get engrossed in your book, barely feeling like you’re reading and more that you’re inside of the book, part of the story.
“i didn’t know which kind, so i kinda got a bunch.” rafes voice makes you jump, not even realizing that he had returned from the store as he dumps a bag of suckers on the couch cushion next to you. your eyes widen at the 10 different kinds he brought back for you. you eye the group and then pick out your favorite, but really you didn’t dislike any of them.
“thank you rafey.” you hum, accepting his kiss when he leans down and presses one to your lips.
“i’m gonna head to the gym out back, since you’re still reading. you need anything else?” rafe asks, his hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek. you’re so unlike any other girl he has gone for in the past, but it’s why he loves you so much. you are smart, but so innocent when it comes to certain things and he loves to teach you and bring out your wilder side.
“i’m good, thank you.” you say again, pressing another kiss to his lips before rafe is out the back door. you’re surprised how quiet tanneyhill is today, but you’ve learned for the most part that all the members of the cameron family spend their days elsewhere, with eloise and sarah still in school, and ward and rose working most of the day away.
you unwrap your sucker before returning your attention to the book, feeling so much calmer now that you have something in your mouth. you reach the climax of the book, fingers rapidly turning the page until you get to the resolution, and then ultimately the end of the book.
you take a deep breath, letting in all that air you were holding from when the dramatic scenes were unfolding before setting the book onto the coffee table. you turn to pick up another sucker before realizing that you had subconsciously kept getting more, and you now only had one left, the rest reduced to white sticks.
you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment even though no one is around, cleaning up your mess quickly but still unwrapping the sucker and sticking it in your mouth. you are just about to head out the gym, converted with weight machines and mirrors from a shed in the backyard, when rafe reenters.
“finished your book?” rafe asks, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead.
“mhm.” you nod. “it was really good, i’m gonna rate it 4 stars on storygraph later.” 
“glad you liked it baby.” rafe comes up and kisses your cheek, considering your mouth is still occupied by the cherry sucker. “if you want to put the rest of the suckers in the candy cabinet, you can.” rafe says, referring to the one cabinet in the cameron home stocked full with junk food, from chocolate to greasy chips.
“i- um…” you trail off before pressing your lips together.
“what?” rafe asks, a slight smile on his lips, loving when you get flustered like this.
“i kinda ate them all. i didn’t even realize i just kept sucking.” you shrug, averting your gaze from rafe, so you miss the smirk that comes to his face.
--
“does anyone want any gum?” kelce asks, opening up the package and taking a piece for himself.
“oh my god, me!” you say, reaching out when kelce offers one to you, a slight look of confusion on the desperation in your voice as you stick the minty gum into your mouth and begin to chew. 
“i’ve been going crazy not having something in my mouth.” you say, turning your attention to rafe as kelce refocuses on the game. you’re not the biggest basketball fan, you find it entertaining enough to always agree when rafes asks you if you want to come with him and the boys, but you don’t understand most of the calls the refs make and the loud screaming from the crowd hurts your ears.
“you’re so precious, baby.” rafe says, pressing a few kisses to your cheek, leaving you to scrunch your eyebrows together, not sure what you did to gain that reaction but certainly not complaining.
you crunch the gum between your teeth, much happier now that you can focus on that and drown out some of the noise as you lean into rafe, his arm moving to be placed securely around your shoulders, up until the game comes down to a final shot, whipped from halfcourt towards the basket as the timer counts down, the ball ultimately swishing through the rim, making the entire crowd jump to their feet as the team gets the buzzer beater.
“that was exciting!” you tell rafe as you head out of the building, your hand encapsulated in his. “thanks for letting me along on boys night.” you call to topper and kelce.
“happy to have you.” topper says with a friendly smile, making rafe tighten his grip on your hand slightly.
--
“do we have any popsicles?” you ask, fanning your face with your hand, the bright sun beating down on the boat.
“yeah, should be in the cooler in back.” rafe says, gesturing towards the back of the yacht as he continues to steer the boat to the place he wants to anchor for the day to fish.
“mmkay thanks.” you say, getting up off the captains bench, where you always sat with rafe so he could keep a close eye on you while he also paid attention to the water in front of him. “you want one?” “nah, thanks though baby.” rafe glances away for a moment to look at you, his eyes soft. “hurry back though.” you smile, knowing he’s only being so strict with you because he loves you. you rush to the back of the boat, digging into the cooler for a red popsicle before returning to take your place next to rafe.
“are you too hot? you should drink water too.” rafe says, placing one hand on your thigh while he steers the boat with the other.
“nah, just wanted something cool in my mouth.” you say, too focused on the sun glimmering off the water in front of you to notice that rafe has to readjust himself in his shorts.
“gonna try this spot first.” rafe says, slowing the boat to a stop. you get up and move to where you know he’s going to fish from. you used to offer to help anchor, but you know rafe would never let you get your hands dirty.
“are you good princess?” rafe asks once everything is done, fishing pole and tackle box in hand.
“all good.” you nod, already having gotten a second popsicle from the cooler.
--
“what is it?” rafe asks.
“huh?” you question, taking your thumb out of your mouth that you didn’t even realize you were sucking on until rafe spoke up.
“you keep sucking on your fingers and you’ve got that look in your eyes. are you nervous for something, doll?” rafe asks, his voice soft and genuine.
“midsummers.” you pout, making rafe tilt his head to the side. he’s such a confident man, especially in social situations. he’s charming and outgoing, meanwhile you prefer to keep to yourself and watch things from afar, but it’s impossible with rafe, he’s always the center of attention in any room, like all the lights shine on him.
“i’m gonna be with you the whole time.” rafe says, not even having to ask why you’d be nervous for the big party.
“i know, i still hate the idea of all those eyes on me.” you shudder, sticking your thumb back into your mouth to provide some comfort.
“if you need to leave, we can leave after making an appearance.” rafe says, knowing he’d get shit for not sticking around longer, but he doesn’t care, you come first, always.
“thanks rafey.” you say, slightly muffled by your thumb in your mouth.
“i love you, baby.” rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your jaw before pulling you onto his lap, letting you relax against him, eyes fluttering close as the sucking on your thumb eventually slows as you fall to sleep curled up in his arms.
--
“can we stop and get some gum? or a sucker?” you ask rafe, hands nervously twitching in your lap.
“baby, we are on a tight schedule we can’t be making stops for candy.” rafe says with a sigh, wishing he could accommodate you, but he knew he’d be in a rush ever since he stayed in bed this morning for an extra fifteen minutes to cuddle and kiss you.
“barry is late all the time, i don’t even know why you have to be on time to meet him.” you complain.
“don’t be a brat.” rafe says, already stressed out. sure, barry is often late, but rafe has different expectations of himself, and if he says he’s going to meet barry at a certain time, you can be damn sure that he will be there on time, if not five minutes early.
you cross your arms over your chest, not bothering to hide your annoyance from your boyfriend.
“here, you just wanna suck on something, go ahead and suck on my finger.” rafe says, gripping the steering wheel with one hand while he shoves his finger towards your mouth.
you would say no, but that really is all you want, so you pull your knees up to your chest and rest rafes wrist against your knees, sticking his finger into your mouth, moaning slightly around it at the pure relief of having something to focus on while rafe speeds down the backroads.
you suck on his finger, swirl your tongue around it, even gently press your teeth down on it, all while rafe sits there, cock swelling in his jeans while he wishes it to stay down, not needing to greet barry with a hard on, especially when you’re so blissfully unaware of the effect your mouth is having on him.
“alright we are almost there.” rafe says, making you whine when he takes his hand away, again reaching down to adjust his crotch, not sure how much longer he can put up with this.
--
“can we go to the store and buy a sucker? or maybe get some ice cream?” you ask, hands pawing at rafes chest as you lay in bed.
“come on, i just wanna stay here all day.” rafe says with a yawn. you were both up late partying, but you were getting bored of just sitting in bed all day, even if you do like being pressed up against your boyfriend.
“give me your fingers again then.” you reach out for his hand, but rafe snatches it away.
“i have something else you can suck on.” rafe says, making your head quirk to the side, inquisitive.
“you trust me, right?” rafe says, which you of course eagerly nod to. you trust rafe more than anyone else, so when he raises his hips and lowers his sweatpants down his legs before kicking them off to the floor, you don’t feel the same nervousness that you usually do.
“you want me to… give you head?” you swallow thickly. “i told you i’ve never done it before.” you’ve had sex with rafe before, but the focus was always on you, how he could bring your body to pleasure, how he fit inside of you.
“i know, but you’re always wanting to suck on something.” rafe shrugs. “might as well suck on my dick. besides, i’ll teach you.”
“o-okay.” you nod, eyes flicking between meeting rafes gaze and his length, clearly obvious and straining against the fabric of his underwear.
“now, i’m already hard just because i always am being around you, but why don’t you explore a bit with your mouth over my underwear, hm?” rafe says. you nod, figuring the best thing to do if you felt nervous was following his directions, afterall, he hasn’t led you astray in the past.
you slide down the bed until you’re laid on your stomach between his legs. you start with kisses around his underwear, before planting one on his length, kissing down the shaft until you reach where you presume his head is. you flick your tongue out, giving an experimental lick that makes rafe moan, so you double down on your effort, pushing your tongue against the fabric, creating a wet spot.
“that-that feels really good.” rafe says, his voice so breathless, causing you to look up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust.
you take matters into your own hand upon seeing how turned on you’re making him. you always let him finger you, or eat you out, or fuck you to orgasm, but you’ve never done the same to him in return, mostly because you are inexperienced. so, you pull his underwear down suddenly, allowing his cock to spring up.
you don’t give yourself any time to feel insecure as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, making rafe curse and bring a hand down to grip your hair, but he doesn’t shove you down, knowing you’re not ready for that and will move at your own pace.
you rub your tongue against him, surprised by how much you like the taste as you try to move your mouth down some, to take more of him. you succeed for the most part until you have to pull off to take a breath.
“baby, when i cum you can pull off that way it doesn’t go all in your mouth.” rafe says, wanting to warn you now before he gets too wrapped up in the feeling of your warm tongue to forget his words.
“and what if i want you all in my mouth?” you question, sinking your lips around him again, trying to go deeper again before you start to suck, having had lots of practice with your suckers and popsicles. you may have never given head before, but you know to keep your teeth away from his sensitive skin, so you hope that means you’re doing a good job.
“breathe thr-fuck. breathe through your nose, baby, it’ll help.” rafe says, reminding you. you give a hum around his length in acknowledgement, making rafe let out another curse.
you try it again, sucking and then humming, sucking and then humming, and clearly from the look on rafes face, he likes the vibrations on his cock. 
you pull off after a minutes, licking around the base of his cock and slowly moving up, wanting to taste every inch of him. you get back to the head and notice he’s leaking slightly out of his tip, which you quickly dart up with your tongue, making rafes hips raise up, pushing his cock against your tongue.
“you’re so fucking good at this.” rafe moans, one hand still gripping your hair while the other is fisted in the bedsheets, trying his best to hold back from shoving your head down onto his cock and fucking your mouth.
“i’ve got lots of practice with sucking things.” you giggle before taking him into your mouth again, bobbing your head as you suck, flicking your tongue over his head every time you pull back.
you decide again to try to take more of him into his mouth now that you’ve gotten more comfortable, but you swear rafe has swelled as you can’t take nearly as much as before.
“baby-i-close-i-” rafe stutters out, pushing your lips further, causing his cock to push into your throat as he releases to your tongue softly licking his length even you gag.
you feel rafe release, thick ropes of cum lining your insides as you swallow down repeatedly until he’s dry, completely milked free of cum. you pull off with a cough, rafes hands dropping limply to his sides.
“god, your mouth is amazing.” rafe moans.
you smile at the praise, glowing under his words. you look to the cock in front of you, now softening against his thigh.
“can we do that again?” you ask, quirking your head to the side.
“absolutely.” rafe nods. “once i recover. why don’t we get you a sucker until i can get hard again?”
2K notes · View notes
concretecultist · 3 months
Text
Kingdom Come
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summary: you ask Noah, your Dom best friend, for a big favor.
pairing: sub!fem!reader x dom!noah
word count: 7.4k
THIS IS PURE FICTION!!
warnings: 18+!! BDSM, restraints, slapping/impact play, light degradation, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, oral (f receiving), subspace
A/N: this was purely self indulgent. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🥰
~Berry🫐
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Life was kicking your ass. Harder than normal and the weight of the world was getting harder the bear.
Your job sucked, your body ached all the time and the one guy who you thought was going to be it for you, ended up ghosting you. All of it was a slap in the face and it was even worse when your landlord calls you to let you know the water would be off for a couple weeks due to maintenance issues. You guess you could tolerate it since he’s reducing rent during the time that the water will be off.
So, once you find out this information, you’re calling your best friend to see if you can crash there for a while. He had no problem with it. He no longer had roommates and often found himself missing having someone around.
So when you arrived and got yourself situated after a steamy shower to wash the day off, you find yourself sitting beside Noah with a question burning a hole in your tongue.
“I know this idea is out there but,” you choke on the words and realize how ridiculous this sounds.
“What?,” he keeps clicking away at his controller as he played his game, not taking his eyes off the screen. When you don’t answer, he takes a peak over at you and can see you biting your lip so hard it looks like it’ll bleed.
“Stop doing that,” he paused his game and used his thumb to gently pull your lip down from between the grip of your teeth, “What’s going on. It’s just me, Y/N,”
You look to him, twiddling your thumbs and decide it’s all or nothing, if he says no you guys can just forget you ever said anything.
“I need to turn my brain off,” you blurt out.
“Okay?,” he shrugs as if there was nothing to it, “I can have Folio bring some weed by,”
“No, I-,” you throw your face in your hands, cheeks burning as you think about it, “You are in the…. the BDSM scene and I want you to help me turn my brain off,”
His mouth drops in an ‘o’ shape as it clicks what exactly you mean. His hesitation has you feeling so silly. You should have just showered, went home and rubbed one out.
“Sugar, I’m not exactly sure you know what you’re asking for,”
You were his little sugar cube. Too sweet to know exactly what his life entailed behind the scenes. You never really seemed interested in it before. But little did he know, you were just nervous to show it.
He could be mean at the request of his subs during sessions and you were requesting it now but you were his best friend and he didn’t want to cross that line unless you were 110% sure.
“N-no, no I do,”
He’s briefly talked about his sessions enough for it to cause a burning of desire in your gut. You’ve never been in the scene but with the way things are going lately, you just need to be taken care of, to be manhandled and you’d rather do that with someone you trust.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you mumble, humiliated now that you’d expect your hot, dom, best friend to do that for and to you, “I just made a fool of myself,”
The silence that he was giving after your initial ask was gnawing at your emotions, you just wanted to disappear right now.
“Sugar, it would be an honor but if we do this, there’s no going back because I’m going to want you forever,” his words spilled like the smoothest whiskey on the market. Sure, now this sounds like a typical cliche of friends to lovers but what’s wrong with that? Sometimes things like this are meant to become something more. Maybe that’s why long term relationship never worked for either of you… because you two were it for each other?
“Please,” your voice cracks with need. You had showered while he stayed on the couch playing a video game and yet your body is still tense.
“Follow me,” he stands tall before you, extending a hand in which you take easily. You could already feel some tension relieving from simply holding his hand.
He kept his pace slow, easy for you to keep up with as one of his steps equaled three of yours.
He had a spare bedroom that no one was allowed in, not even you and you guys had been friends for almost a decade now. So when he reached above the door to grab the key, you snatched your hand from his and took a giant step back.
“I can’t go in there,”
“Right, without my consent,” he peaked over his shoulder, “But you have that now and then some,”
You looked at him with wary eyes and he dropped his shoulders with a knowing sigh.
“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” his hands made their way onto your shoulders to deliver a comforting squeeze, “This is the way,”
One of his hands is gently cradling your cheek now and it’s so soothing that you can’t help but lean into it and he notices the way your eyes flutter.
He already knows you’re going to be so good for him tonight.
Noah leans his forehead down to yours and your lips are only a few centimeters a part.
“You trust me… don’t you, Sugar?,”
Immediately weak in the knees, noticing he’s already entering into his persona. You nod feverishly against him.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,”
A gentle peck on your lips has you leaning in for more when he pulls away.
“Take your hands off the wheel and let me drive,” is all he says before turning his back to you to unlock the door.
Time seemed to slow down when he pushed it open, a part of you wanted to close your eyes, still feeling nervous about seeing a space he deemed so private that he kept it locked up. Your hand is in his once more with him pulling you through the threshold as he flicks the light on.
Red fluorescent lights filling your vision.
It smells so good in here and you wonder how, considering what possibly goes down based simply off of what’s in here.
The bed frame looks like one luxurious bird cage, bolted to the floor and a sheer canopy draping over it. There’s bars hanging from the ceiling with cuffs hanging from them.
Open cupboards of different items like floggers, paddles then another filled with masks and gags, one full of toys. There’s a full fridge in here with a clear door and you can see different replenishing beverages and snacks.
This is his sex dungeon
“Something like that,” he spoke aloud.
Realizing your thoughts weren’t kept in your head you avert your gaze to the ground.
“I don’t use it much other than personal uses, any time I have a scene with someone I meet them at theirs. I’ve just been keeping this a secret until I found the one worthy to be in here,”
Your eyes widen as you raise your head to meet his.
“M-me?!,” poking yourself in the chest, “I… you mean me?!,”
His shoulders tremble in soft laughter, shaking his head at your disbelief.
“This entire time, I’ve just been wanting to bring you here but you never expressed any interest in the scene,” he played with your fingers in his grasp, something he always found comfort in doing.
“I didn’t know if you’d take me seriously. I’m not exactly… what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive,”
“You’re exactly what comes to mind,” he brings you to a plush crimson couch, covered in velvet material. When your ass meets the cushions, he’s reaching to a table beside you to light a candle, bringing it over with him as he lowers himself into his knees before you.
“I’m going to go over a few house rules while I get you relaxed okay?,”
You offer a simple nod and he smirks,
“Rule number one- I always need a verbal answer. I don’t want to leave anything to the imagination and possibly misread body language, got it?,”
Swallowing thickly you nod once more, “I understand,”
“Good girl,” his hands make their way onto your calves, kneading the tight muscles, causing an involuntary moan in which you try to subdue.
“Number two, don’t be shy,” he says plainly, “I know this is new but you know me and I’m here to keep you safe so don’t shy away from me. Be as vocal and as emotional as you need to be,”
“I understand,” you answer once more. Your eyes watch his hands, curious when he picks up the candle, the flame flickering in his eyes.
“Three. Trust that I will never hurt you outside of what you ask for,” he tips the candle and a quiet gasp leaves your lips, quickly turning into a moan when the wax drips onto your tired legs, Noah instantly setting the candle down and massaging it into your skin.
“Pheromone massage candles,” he answered your unasked question.
“Four. I usually go by King during these scenes but since this is new for you I don’t want you to feel detached from me so call me Noah until you feel comfortable, okay?,”
“Y-yes,” your eyes cross slightly while his thumbs work into the sore soles of your feet. This was helping so much and just from this simple interaction, your core is buzzing already.
“Five. If you need to stop or directions are not okay or unclear- speak up. I’m going to need you to pick a safeword for me,”
You squirm on the couch, becoming putty in his hands as they move from your feet to your calves and now your thighs.
“Kingdom,” you answer with ease, if he goes by King might as well make it coordinate right?
“Good one,” he plants a kiss by your knee, “Rule six, no negative self talk or thoughts. I may degrade you but I will always follow it up with praise. You are loved and cared about, you understand me?,”
“I understand,” you nod.
“Seven. Have fun and let go. We are here together so remember I will always catch you,”
With his last rule he spreads your thighs, squeezing them to get a reaction out of you.
“Do you have any rules for me?,” eyes dark yet caring in the red glow.
“Don’t hold back,” an embarrassing whimper escapes, “I know I’m a rookie but I can take it and I know you’ll take care of me just…,”
Your hands grab his, holding them tight so he knows how bad you need this.
“Just don’t hold back. I need it, I know I’m safe so I just need you to hurt me, I need you to help me turn my brain off and surrender myself to you,”
Your words from earlier echoed in Noah’s head and he thought they were a crock of shit.
I’m not exactly what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive
Bullshit. You were perfect.
He wipes his hands on a towel that he kept on the table with the candle, setting it and the candle back in their original spot when he was finished.
His hands are now sheltering your face because he can see your mind is still running a million miles a minute.
“What do you need from me right now?,”
You were embarrassed to say it.
“What were rules 2 and 7, Sugar?,” his voice pulled you from your own thoughts.
“To not be shy and to let go,”
He nodded in understanding, “So why are you breaking my rules and overthinking?,”
God, he was so good at this. The twinge of disappointment in his tone had your heart aching, you wanted to be good.
“Can.. c-can you smack me?,” your voice was barely a whisper and you knew he wouldn’t let that slide.
“Speak up, baby. Closed mouths don’t get fed,” his thumbs were rubbing such comforting circles on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but oblige.
“I need you to smack me,” it wasn’t a plea, it was a declaration.
Noah just reads your face. Studying your expression to see if there’s any doubt, any hesitation. He stands you up and then he leans in to kiss you with a sort of need that you’ve never been kissed with before. You two are breathing heavily in between and you can barely keep up. Your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, just wanting him to consume you.
He pulls away but before you can protest, you feel the searing heat of his open palm meeting your cheek. A gasp of surprise comes from you and yet again you’re left with no time to react when he does it again.
“Fuck,” you mewl, “More,”
He answers your demand with a little more power behind this one, the pain feeling so good you almost fall to your knees but luckily, he held you upright.
“Turn it off,” he says through clenched teeth, smacking you once more. If you were naked you know for a fact you’d be dripping down your legs, “Turn it off, Sugar. I see you trying,”
Hand on your neck, he’s pushing you backward and each step is another slap until he pins you to the wall, you can feel your eyes burn as the tears of desire being to rise.
You need this so bad.
“I said. Turn,” a harder slap, “It. Off!!,” with one more smack, you’re practically howling at how exceptional it felt, eyes closed as you welcome the sting that lingered on your flesh, feeling the heat running down to your neck and up to your temples.
Your head feels like you’re in limbo and when you open your eyes, he can see the change in yours and you can see the change in his.
You’re both in your designated positions. He has his hands on the wheel now. Your brain was off and the part of you that needed to be taken care of has entered the chat, the stressed version was locked away in a dark cell of your mind and would stay there until it was time to let her out.
“There she goes,” his hand soothed your cheek and you were liquid in his hands
“Thank you,” doe eyes shining up at him, he feels so proud of himself.
“Oh baby, it’s my pleasure,” he cooed, “Can you be good and undress for me?,”
“Can you help?,” your body was feeling fuzzy, like you had a few shots and were floating now. You felt like if you tried to undress yourself you’d topple over.
“Of course,” he felt gratified to be asked.
One article of clothing at a time until you were bare in front of him, pinned against the crimson paint on the wall.
“How are we doing? You okay?,” a kiss planted to your neck, his large hands running up and down your body had you sighing in content.
“On cloud nine,” you answer dreamily. You were in a daze, this room felt like your own amusement park now.
A room you once weren’t allowed in because this is his sanctuary. How many others were close to being brought here? How many others did he put in a hypnotic state?
“Put her away,” his gruff voice echoed in your ears, “She doesn’t get to come back. Lock it away,”
He could tell through your body language that you were starting to overthink again.
“Do we need to stop?,”
“No,” rearing back to look him in his eyes so he can see how bad you truly need and want this, “No. It’s turned off,”
“That’s what I need to hear,”
He brings you back over to the couch you were on a few minutes ago but this time he’s sitting on the cushion and he’s positioning you over his lap.
“Think you can handle a few spanks?,”
“Uh huh!,” excitement coursing through your veins, body jolting when you feel his lips press against the supple flesh that he was soon about to tenderize.
But first, he had to feel you. He has to feel your wetness coat his fingers. So his fingers trace figures on the back of your thighs and you’re jutting your ass up to get him to touch you, he delivers a light smack as a warning.
“Patience,” is all he speaks. Slowly but surely, his middle finger swipes your clit and lightly presses into your entrance.
He pulls a long drawn out moan from you when he fully pushes his finger inside. A quiet growl emits from his chest and your toes are curling.
“Noah pleeeeaaase,” you grip his calves, eyes rolling at his slow movement of removing his finger and reinserting it.
“What do you need, Sugar?,” you could hear the smile in his tone. The way he was speaking to you and touching you just made the anxiety melt away.
“Wanna feel your fingers. Always wanted to feel your fingers,” you couldn’t help but be unapologetically honest. For years you’ve watched his hands and how he talks with them, how he uses them to hold multiple things at once, how he sucks on them when he gets ice cream or ranch on them.
But until now you’ve always buried your desires deep.
“Oh yeah?,” without a warning, he’s stretching you open and you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, spreading your legs as open as possible so you’re not falling off his lap.
“You feel so good, Sugar,” he affirms, “So wet for me, so fucking warm,”
His fingers were reaching so deep it was intoxicating, never having experienced anyone with fingers as long as his has you going cross eyed.
“Thank you, Noah!!!,” your walls pulsing around his middle and ring fingers while his free hand soothed your ass cheeks before taking a big strike against them, the sound of his palm meeting your flesh bouncing off the walls.
“You’re so welcome, baby,” he picks up the pace of his fingers and he can feel the way you’re trying to get friction on your clit.
“Nuh uh,” he spanks you once more, “Be good, take what I give you,”
“Please,” singing a beautiful tune, you just want to let go for him, you want to crumble in his lap, you want him to feel what he does to you.
“Please what?,” another strike on your ass and another curl of his fingers inside you.
“W-wanna cum for you,”
“Is that right?,” there’s that teasing tone again, it makes you feel small but it only tightens the coil in your core. He moves his fingers with expertise inside of you and you think you’re about to orgasm strictly off of penetration which is rare for you. You almost always need clitoral stimulation.
“Please. Please. Wanna be good for you, wanna let go for you,”
You two have only just begun and you’re already a mess. You can hear the squelching, you can hear your heart thumping in your ears, you’re trembling.
You’re a fucking mess in his grasp.
“I think we should make your first one easy enough to earn,” he observed, positioning his knee right under your pelvis, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers stroked the deepest depths of you.
“C‘mon, Sugar. Give it to me. Let it out,”
Your nails are digging into his calf and you’re drooling, rocking back into him but he didn’t mind this time, he’s enjoys seeing how desperate you are to cum, not just for yourself but for him.
You want to offer all you can to him. All of your emotions, all of your whimpers and cries, your mind, body and spirit.
“I’m gonna… can I cum, Noah? Please”
He gives a hum of approval and he can feel it, he watched your body swell with a deep breath and watched it deflate as you let out the most beautiful, guttural moan he’s ever heard.
His fingers halt their movements inside of you and he makes sure to rub your back to bring you back down.
“You’re okay,” a soft murmur leaves his lips while he slowly removes his fingers from your soaked hole, sitting you up and repositioning you in his lap so you’re straddling him.
“Be good and open for me,”
You follow his directions and bask in the glory of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, making you taste yourself. You collect your flavor but before you can close your mouth and swallow it down, he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth to taste you.
Your eyes instantly roll in the back of your head, relishing the taste of his mouth sharing the taste of you.
“Need you,” you pull away, hands cupping his face as if he’s made of glass, “Always needed you,”
His gaze softens for a moment, letting you know that ‘regular’ Noah hears you, that it’s not just his persona hearing those words.
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he purred, “You have me, Sugar. Just as I have you,”
With ease, he lifts you up and walks with you to the cupboards.
“Pick a toy, a gag and a restraint and come to the bed when you’ve made your decision,” a kiss is given to your temple and he walks away, leaving you to make your choices without any pressure. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way to the bed.
He has so many trinkets to choose from. He just stock piled all of this stuff until he found the one? He really is a stickler for this kind of thing.
After some careful self-deliberation, you grabbed your chosen items and made your way over to him. Noah sat patiently within the doorway of the cage-like bed.
“I chose these,” you offer them to him and he gave an intrigued ‘hmph’
A rose, a silicone bar gag and wrist-to-thigh cuffs.
“Good choices, baby” standing up and kissing your forehead, he moves out of the way so you can see the bed. Silk red sheets, chains hanging from the bars, and the sheer canopy keeping secrets in with just a glimpse of what was to come.
“Climb up,” he pats your ass and you do just that, at a leisure pace so he can get a good view of you from behind. When you sit flat, you see him entering and closing the door behind him.
This feels much more intimate than just any ole bedroom. The lighting, the enclosed space, all of it made you feel closer to Noah.
“Before we start, take a drink for me,”
“But I’m okay,”
“Did I ask that?,” he tilts his head, eyes squinting as if to tell you ‘watch it.’
“I’m sorry,”
He cracks open the bottle and holds it to your lips, giving you a knowing look as if to say ‘I told you so’ when you drink down half the bottle.
When you’re finish he sets it to the side and hovers over you until you’re laying back on your elbows, eyes not leaving his.
“How are we doing? You still okay?,”
“I’m perfect, Noah,” a tender smirk made its way into your face, “I know I’m safe,” you assure.
“Are you okay? I know this kind of thing takes time, just don’t want you to feel pressured,” you inquire.
“There you go overthinking,” he kisses your neck, “For you, it’s easy to turn on. You never took notice to how I always took control? No matter what we did?,”
He’s got a point. Any time you two went out grocery shopping because you were anxious and didn’t want to go alone, he hooked his arm with yours, took your list and did all the shopping. Any time you two went out to the movies, he’s picking your snacks and drinks and doing all the talking. A hand on the small of your back each time you two were out, always helping you zip up your dresses or fastening your necklaces.
It was subtle, but it was always there.
“I was made for you. I was made to take care of you,” he continues his trail of kisses, planting them wherever he pleases, “And you let me. Which means you were always mine,”
A relaxed sigh is released at his words. He’s right and you know it.
“So, knowing this. I’m more than okay and am filled with joy of knowing that I get to break you and put you back together again, over and over,”
Bucking your hips up wasn’t a good idea, considering he pinned them down and got your restraints ready.
“I need this. Noah, please I need you” a shameful cry bounces off the bars of the enclosure you found yourself in.
“I know,” he growled, fastening your hands into the cuffs and attaching the other bands to each thigh. With your hands tied to your thighs now, you wouldn’t be able to touch him.
“You need me to wreck you. To hurt you so that the stressors of your everyday light aren’t plaguing your brain for once,”
He squeezes your cheeks so your lips are parted and lifts your head up to move your hair out of the way so he can tighten the gag.
You looked so beautiful like this.
“I’m here to give you just that,” he grabs the rose, “I don’t care how many orgasms it takes. I’m going to reduce you to nothing and fill you back up with worth again. I will end you and resuscitate you over and over again until you’ve had enough. Is that understood?,”
“Yeth,” you slur around the gag.
“Good,” on his knees, between your legs, he turns the rose on and the low hum fills the space, he leans forward to spit on your nipples before placing the opening of the toy over your harden buds, your back swiftly arching off the bed with a moan around the silicone.
He’s at this for a while, just teasing your nipples, biting at your jawline, groaning in your ear until you’re leaking onto the silk sheets.
You’re begging around the gag but he just teasingly looks at you as if he can’t understand you. But he knows. He knows where you need him.
“It’s a lot, are you sure you can handle it on your clit?,” he smirks so devilishly it’s almost scary. But the twinge of fear makes you ache.
“Mmhmm mmhm!,” already drooling around the bar, you nod feverishly, just wanting to feel something, no, needing to feel something.
You get what you desire when he sits back up on his heels to spread your legs even wider to get a perfect view of your swollen clit, glistening as your arousal is painted all over your core.
When he finally attaches the toy to your clit, your toes are curling, your eyes are rolling and your back is arching.
Maybe you weren’t ready for this, maybe you should have gotten a wand or something.
“Relax,” he says simply, using his own legs to pin yours down.
“Breathe, Sugar. Just breathe. Look at me,” he sees the way your eyes are swimming with tears and it brings him satisfaction, especially when your chest is trembling from him keeping the buzzing toy on your sensitive bundle.
“It’s a lot, I know but I wouldn’t give you more than you could handle,”
He slowly inhaled with you, guiding you to calm you down but it was just too much, so much that you’re already cumming and groaning behind the gag which causes Noah to darkly chuckle.
But he keeps it there. He keeps the rose there and you’re convulsing under him when he sinks his fingers into your messy core.
“That was pathetic,” he looked into your eyes, “And you didn’t even ask,”
He got so much amusement out of your whimpers, how the hell were you supposed to ask with a gag in your mouth?! But maybe that’s the point? It’s a set up for him to milk you as a form of torture.
It was sadistic but, you were the masochist after all.
“You’re so creamy,” he said in a daze, absolutely obsessed with the way you’re painting his fingers, your walls pulsing around his appendages as if they’re trying to draw them in and keep them there.
“Noaaaaaaahh!!,” your cries muffled, your face so wet from the tears and the spit but Noah finds it beautiful, if he could, he’d paint how you looked right now and frame it, get it tattooed even.
“You can do it. You asked for this, remember?” His eyes rolled at the feeling of his fingers deep inside, drenched in your offering, his tattoos glistening, catching his eye in the ruby lighting. He just wanted to be bottomed out in you already.
You’re calling for him from around the gag, breasts shaking as you’re overcome with yet another blinding climax. Your nails dig into your thighs, just wanting to dig them into Noah’s instead and pull him toward you. You wanted him, you craved him.
“Sshhhh. You’re okay, Sugar. You’re doing so well for me,” he picked himself up off your legs and grabbed a rag to wipe the spit that dribbled down your chin, “I’m gonna turn you over, need you to give me one more before you have me. One more and we can take the cuffs and gag off okay?,”
Sitting you up, his hand supporting the back of your head as he checks over you, making sure you���re okay.
“Do you need anything? A break, water?,” he breaks character for a moment
With a verbal “Nuh uh” behind the bar, you let him position you like a Barbie, letting him move your legs, manually arching your back and propping a pillow under your head so you were comfy and could breathe.
You feel him leave open mouthed kisses on your ass, biting the pillowy skin just to hear you hum in delight.
“Can’t wait to give you what you want,” Noah positions himself under you so he can stare right up at your leaking heat, no matter the angle, it was a mesmerizing sight to see, “But first, I just need to taste you.”
He exasperated in desperation before using his hands to grab your ass, bringing you down and lifting his head to feast.
Your fists are clenching in your restraint and your moans are flowing from your chest like a river. His tongue worked your overstimulated clit, suckling and licking. He ate as if you were the finest delicacy, trying to savor but also consuming you with greed.
Your body just responded to him without a fight, you were his puppet and he pulled the strings but you happily danced for him, giving him what he wanted. Yet again you feel his fingers push into you, you’d never get enough of his fingers, he knew how to use them and he knew how to use you. You were a howling mess against the pillow when you feel your next orgasm approaching. How did he expect you to stay up like this? Your legs felt like jelly and you were falling a part.
“You can do it, baby. I feel it. You’re almost there,” he murmured against your pussy, “One more and you can have what you want but you gotta show me you want it,”
Oh God did you want it, and bad! Your head felt fuzzy, your body was playing tug of war, fighting between it being too much versus you wanting it.
You gave in. Pussy pulsing, chest burning from hyperventilating and muscles aching. Despite it all, you’re cumming for him again, giving into your deep craving to just be his doll.
“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he cheers, drinking you in. He pulls himself away to position you on your back, quickly working to remove your restraints and gag.
“Sit up for me, Sugar,”
Your head lulling to the side, both of you giggling about it. He has you drink some more water and cleans your face with the towel again.
“I’m ready,” it was a simple whisper, “Show me what I’ve been missing. Please, King,”
The title takes Noah by surprise. He thought it would take a few sessions to get you fully under his spell but, you truly were for him. You were ready to bow to him, to fulfill every quest he bestowed upon you.
It kind of pulled at his heart strings. Whenever he was out in the scene he only cared about showing the subs a good time, a time for him and them to release and never see each other again. But this, this was euphoria.
“Lie down for me,” he hums, taking off his lounge wear and boxers so he’s bare just like you are.
He was a beautiful man to begin with but to see him like this in all his glory? It had you feeling like royalty. Others got to see him, yes, but you… only you get to see him.
He makes sure you’re comfortable before he inches forward, the tip nudging your clit and he grabbed your hands when you flinched away at the contact, lacing his fingers between yours.
“Don’t run away from me,” his lips were so plump, glistening with his spit and you just know they still taste like you.
“Call it before I ruin you,” he gave you one more chance.
“Do it” it wasn’t a teasing phrase. You wanted it. You have yearned long enough and now your wish is his command. His pins your clasped hand to the bed and takes your free hand, guiding it to his cock.
“Take it,” he ordered.
He was a perfect mix of girth and length, a mouth water red tip that shines with precum, two prominent veins, yeah- he was going to destroy you.
You couldn’t help but stroke him, watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes closed gently, this is the face of a King all right. Scooting closer to him, not wanting to leave any space, you slapped his tip against your own clit, the breath of both of you hitching in tandem. The noises that emitted from between the two of you, while you rubbing him against your entrance, were sinful.
“Show me what you’ve been wanting. Show me how bad you need me,” he growls, hiking both of your legs around his waist.
You guide him into you slowly, the eyes of both of you going wide, rejoicing in the way he fit in you like a missing puzzle piece, filling you up to make you whole.
“Fuck!,” choking on your own spit, the heels of your feet pulled him in so he could bottom out. You needed to catch your breath because you know once he gets started, you’ll lose it again. He drew in a shaky breath, bewitched by how good you feel.
“Give it to me,” you squeeze his hand, “Make me yours. I want to be yours. Ple- Oooooh fuck!!,”
His hips drew back and snapped into you, cutting you off as the pleasure drowns you. He kept the stacattoed pace, just taking in your expressions.
But then he saw the way you looked at him, it was a look of complete surrender, a look that says “I love you, I trust you”
It was a look to tell him to let go.
So, he used his free hand to take your thigh and press it back so your knee was almost touching your chest. This wasn’t Noah, the King was here and he was going to show you exactly why he was given that title.
You’re pinned beneath him from all angles and it’s overwhelming. His chain dangling in your face with each thrust, his voice smooth like suede as he talks you through it.
“Just like that, pretty girl. Take what I give you,”
Your moans slipped out like a hot knife to butter, he was fucking you through the mattress, bodies tangled and noises echoing through the room, he was making you melt.
“S-so fucking good!!,” the tears were spilling from your eyes and he just kissed them away without missing a beat.
“I know, Sugar,” he bows his head into your neck to leave a trail of bites, sinking his teeth into your dewy skin, your cries of surprise being music to his ears. You welcomed the pain of his biting, he had beautiful teeth and you always wondered what it would feel like for him to bite you. You don’t care if any marks are left. You’re his, he can leave marks for you to brandish all he wants.
“I’m so proud of you,” he grunted into your ear, “Coming to me all vulnerable, wanting me to take care of you and now you’re taking it like the good little slut you always wanted to be,”
“Please!,” your free hand tangles in his hair, your other makes crescent shaped dents in the back of his hand that held yours, “Please, fuck! Don’t stop!,”
Noah lifts his head to see the spaced out look in your eyes, half lidded and dick drunk. He never thought he’d see you like this.
“Please what? Use your words,” he pulls back from you to watch the look of despair on your face when he slows down.
Your words are caught in your throat, finding it hard to make a coherent sentence.
“Please, what, Sugar? Don’t make me ask again” He lets your leg go to grab the bar of the caged bed above your head, preparing to pick up his pace when you admit what you need.
“W-wanna cum around your cock,” it was a strong wail, one of pure carnal desire.
“You need it that bad?,” he teases.
“King, please. I need it so bad!!,”
The wind is knocked out of you as he sets his pace, rolling his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing against every sensitive spot within you, causing you both to be vocal. A harmony unmatched. His whimpers fueling you to make it to the finish line. He wasn’t ashamed of the noises he made, especially because he saw how they impacted you.
He let go of your hand and smacked you just like he did earlier, eyes rolling once again as the heat only adds to the pleasure.
“More, please, please, please!!,”
“Such a dirty fucking slut. Getting off to her King slapping her around like a rag doll,” he smacked you again, earning another loud cry from you, he could feel just how much you love it, he can feel it when you clench around him each time his hand meets your cheek.
“Yes, yes,” your eyes never left his, not shying away.
“You like it when it hurts?,” another slap delivered, “You like it when it hurts knowing I’ll make it all better?,”
“Fuck!,” the tears just keep spilling but he knows they’re tears of release, of pleasure, they’re tears for him. Another offering to the King.
“I’m gonna make it all better, Sugar. Just keep being good and taking it, okay?,”
“Y-yes,”
He grabs your cheeks, squishing them together again so his tongue can slide in your mouth effortlessly. Teeth clashing, spit being swapped, the energy between you two was potent, a potion that you’d keep coming back for, drinking it down without being asked.
“I wanna cum for you,” biting his bottom lip, you pull back with a fucked out smirk on your face, “I wanna make a mess. I wanna show you that I’m worthy,”
“I already know that you are, baby,” his thumb tracing small circles onto your clit, his other releasing the bar and coming to wrap around your neck, “I know you’re my pretty little slut who will do anything to stay in my good graces,”
When his hand began to squeeze at your neck you were done for. Your moans came out in tremors, you were clutching onto him in anywhere you can. You groan at the loss of contact on your clit until his thumb is replaced with the same toy he wrecked you with earlier.
“You’re gonna take this toy from me. You’re going to be a good girl for your King and make yourself cum on my cock. You hear me?,” his voice was dangerously low now, letting you know there was no negotiation.
With a shaking hand you snake your hand between the two of you, grabbing the bulbous toy from him and holding it against yourself despite your body telling you to pull away.
“You’re doing great, baby,” he assures, a soft kiss placed on your lips, “Just focus on me. I’m right here,”
He was so close now. One hand on your throat and the other holding the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together.
“My King,” you gasp, chest heaving as you feel yourself ready to fall off the edge.
“I’m gonna catch you. I’m always going to catch you, baby,”
Your eyes stared deeply into his and you just sobbed, needing this more than anything and you just cried. Getting fucked within an inch of your life so good you’re crying was not something you expected to happen considering your past endeavors with men who only cared about getting their own rocks off.
“I know. I know,” he’s still driving his hips deep into you and you’re circling the toy lightly on your swollen, cum soaked bud, you were almost there.
“Give it to me, Sugar. Give me what you owe me,”
And that was all she wrote.
With one deep gasp to fill your lungs he delivers a strong thrust, your fingers trembling around the toy so hard you accidentally turned it up to the next level and you were done for.
You practically screamed as Noah siphoned your orgasm out of you. You were shuddering beneath him as he kept thrusting, still talking you through it.
“You’re okay. You did so good for me, I’m right here. Fuck!”
With one last searing kiss, Noah is stilling his movements, emptying himself inside of you, both of you practically giving each other mouth to mouth CPR as you try to catch your breath. His head has fallen in the crook of your neck and your eyes are fighting to stay open.
“You can come back down now. Come back to me,” he mutters.
You slowly regain all your senses back. Taking in your surroundings and what just happened. As everything hits you, your cries echo in the room.
“Hey,” Noah is quick to sit both of you up and set you in his lap, “What’s going on in that head of yours?,”
Swallowing your cries and wiping your eyes you search for him, eyes connecting, the same beautiful brown eyes you could point out in any crowd.
“Thank you,” is all you say, “I needed that. More than you know,”
He smiles in relief, worried that the scene had somehow upset you.
“We got to get you cleaned up. We’ve got some aftercare to do and some things to talk about,”
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Once both of you were all bathed, Noah took the time to moisturize your skin, apply soothing lotion to your ass and even being gentle in doing your skincare routine for you.
Once he has you curled up in his bed, he went to go clean the other room and brought back some snacks and water with electrolyte packets.
He takes it upon himself to feed you all while affirming how good you were. That you’re loved and cared for, not wanting to leave any room for doubt to sneak in.
“You okay to talk?,” he questions.
You sit up against the headboard, worried about what this talk can pertain to.
“I see the cogs turning, relax,” he soothes, “If you want this like I want this we need to talk,”
“I want this,” you answer definitively. He can’t help but laugh at your excitement.
“I know it’s a little too late to say that I don’t want to rush into things but, I’d like to rewind a bit and start at square one,”
“And that is?,”
“A date,” he answers simply. Sure you’ve gone on friend dates all the time but this is different, this is serious, “I want to build it from the ground up. I know we’ve been friends for ages and have built trust but this is different and I want to build a stronger foundation because I want this to work,”
You take in his words, listening as he goes over his requests and needs for the relationship. You gave him your own list of demands and found yourselves giddy at the fact that yes, you two are a living cliche.
But who cares?
It was you and Noah against the world now.
Til Kingdom Come.
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This idea was burning in my head for ages and I had to write it!!
Please be sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, thank you for your support!! 🥹
~Berry 🫐
tags: @lma1986 @thisbicc @theroyaldixon @whatitsdecending
577 notes · View notes
bi-writes · 5 months
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ghost always gets what he wants. (18+, blood kink, dark)
right now, what he wants is sitting across the pub from him. she's smiling, swinging her legs a little as she talks to the bloke next to her. he's leaning into her space, making her laugh, buying her drinks and keeping her smiling and a little drunk. he's putting it on heavy, ghost can tell--actively listening to her, engaging in the conversation, never letting her add her drink to any tab but his own.
ghost tilts his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth under the mask. that man wouldn't know what to do with that kind of a girl. she's all woman, soft skin, wide hips, a pair of tits he knows would feel like welcome weights between the palms of his gloved hands, pouty lips that deserved to be kissed and bitten and sliding along the length of a cock that can fill her up and choke her from the inside out.
that's what pretty girls like her deserve--to be fucked spineless, to be reduced to nothing but a teary, whimpering mess. a muppet like that would never know what to do with her, how to touch her, how to make her sing.
she's a soft thing. a pretty thing. and he wants her, so he will have her.
you exit the bathroom, a skip in your step as you shuffle outside. he said he would get a car, take you home, and you bounce on your toes as you wait by the curb, looking around the empty parking lot for your ride. but after a few minutes, you turn your head each way, and you realize no one is here, and there is no car coming.
you fully spin around when a dark figure comes out from behind the alleyway. big boots crunch the gravel underneath, and when he comes under the light of the streetlamp, you take a small step back.
the light cuts an angle over his face. you swallow, taking in the breadth of him, tilting your head to look up at him as he steps closer. his mask covers most of his face, and the eyeblack clouds his skin, but you can see the determination in his eyes. it is in the rigidness of his shoulders, the way he stands--and it is the pass of a tactical knife over his chest that you understand the danger that one person can impose.
he wipes one side of it over his dark jacket, stepping closer, until he's in your space, hovering over you. your lips part as he brings the knife down, pressing the other side of it against your throat. you tense a little as he meets your eyes, passing it over until the blood against the sharp edge wipes off, staining the skin of your neck.
he pauses when he sees the hint of a smile on your face. he narrows his eyes, expecting fear, expecting something other than the interest that sparkles in your eyes. like you are all-knowing. like you see everything he is, everything he is not, and like you know what it is he wants.
"i see you," you whisper. "all the time."
ghost sniffs, glaring, and you keep your eyes on his as he drags the knife down your chest, the tip of it moving down between your breasts.
"you're not very subtle," you finish. "quite obvious, what it is that you do...why you do it."
ghost tilts his head to the side, clicking his tongue, and you almost giggle.
"is tha' right, swee'eart?"
you nod.
"been waiting," you say softly.
"for wot?"
you smile.
"for you to make your move," you murmur. your eyes flicker down, eyeing the blood on the front of his jacket. you look up into his eyes again, pursing your lips, and ghost bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. fuck, the same thing he sees in his dreams, it's in your fucking eyes. you're not afraid, and it angers him, repulses him, and fulfills him all the same. "hmm...you didn't approve of him?"
ghost growls, "was a right muppet. cried like a baby."
your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and ghost follows the drag of your tongue hungrily. you are not the screaming, soft, doe-eyed little thing he thought he might like to have.
you are silent, deadly, a wolf in sheep's clothing, and he does not just want to have you. he needs you. he needs you to live under his skin. he needs to taste you, to have you flood his mouth, to chew and eat and swallow and breathe.
he would say you are his match made in heaven, but he knows this does not exist, because if it did, he wouldn't be real. and neither would you.
"ooof," you scrunch your nose. "i hate cry babies."
you almost make him laugh.
he steps closer, sliding the knife lower until it rests at the curve of your waist.
"you don't need that, you know," you whisper, and he leans in, the front of his mask brushing against your lips.
"no?"
"no," you echo, smiling wider. "if you wanna feel up my skirt, all you gotta do is ask. it'd be nice to have your name first though."
"ghost."
you giggle, "your real name, baby."
"'s ghost."
"that what you want me to say when i'm in your bed tonight?"
"who said you'll be in m'bed?"
you reach up with one hand, dragging the tip of your finger down the strong line of his jaw. he towers over you, shadows you, and the knife is sharp against your skin, but all you want is to be a little closer.
you close your eyes when you feel his hand. the tips of his gloved fingers graze the skin of your upper thighs, and you suck in a soft breath when he drags that hand up under your skirt. you put both hands on his chest as you tremble slightly, holding onto him for support as his big hand fondles one side of your ass. his fingers creep lower, and he groans audibly.
"no knickers, swee'eart?" he mutters, and you just giggle breathlessly. "how long 'av y'been waitin' for me, huh?"
you open your eyes, tilting your head back and holding back a whine when you feel his thick fingers prodding at your folds, soaking up the slick there and teasing your cunt. it's sick--you must be sick, you must be awful, you must be so dead inside, you have to be, but it's so hard to care.
you gasp when he grips your throat, forcing your eyes on his, and you hold him there.
"answer me. how long 'av y'been waitin' for me?"
you soften, smile, bare your teeth for him.
"my whole life, baby."
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teamatsumu · 11 months
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kinktober 2023 -> day 31
breeding kink - miya osamu x reader
word count: 1512
A/N: so this is it! thank you so much for everyone who stuck around for this kinktober event. 31 fics in 31 days, its the biggest project i have ever done. thank u for all the love and support ❤️
kinktober masterlist
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What is stopping you?
Your mind repeated the question in your head every day, and it felt like your brain was yelling at you in frustration and confusion, wanting to know why exactly you were tongue tied in this situation. It made no sense to wait anymore. The time was ideal.
Truly, there couldn't be a better time to bring it up. You were happy with your job, Osamu’s business was flourishing; he had just opened another Onigiri Miya in Tokyo. He had a good staff now, an organized system on how to manage it all. He didn’t have to be the only person worrying for the business anymore, since he had hired experienced managers. It allowed him enough breathing room to come home early, cook a nice, hearty dinner for you both that you enjoyed while sprawled on the couch in front of the TV. Money wasn’t a worry anymore.
So really, what was stopping you from bringing up the topic of kids?
You seemed to have become lost in the same thoughts again because you only came to when Osamu nudged you, making you blink and tear your eyes away from the TV screen. He was looking at you questioningly, and you could see a hint of worry behind his dark eyes.
“What’s on yer mind, doll?”
You shook your head and smiled, shrugging a bit. “It’s no big deal ‘Samu. Just a project at work.”
He hummed a little, shoving more noodles into his mouth and sparing you little glances as he did so. You knew he didn’t believe you. Your husband knew you too well to fall for such an obvious lie. But you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out how to broach the topic that was itching in the back of your mind for the last few days.
What do I even say? Put a baby in me?
You swallowed down the little knot that formed in your throat at the thought. Fuck. Was this turning you on? You grit your teeth tight enough that it hurt your jaw, scolding the little voice in your head to not do anything stupid.
When has your brain and lack of filter ever listened to you, though?
The next night, when Osamu had you sprawled on his lap, your back against his front, two fingers buried knuckles deep inside you and having pulled an orgasm out of you already, you babbled out the thought that had been plaguing you for many, many days.
“‘Sa- Samu,” you whined, long and desperate, dragging out his name. “Need your cock. Need your cum. Please.”
Osamu groaned in reply, pulling out his drenched fingers from your core and laying you on the bed. You pulled your legs up on instinct, spreading them wide, knees brought up to your sides. Osamu’s responding moan was sinful.
“S-shit, baby,” he breathed, clumsy hands quickly discarding his shirt and sweatpants. “Ya want it that bad? So ready to take me?”
You nodded your head frantically, back arching when he finally sunk his big, throbbing cock into you. The slide was comfortable and easy, considering how long you had spent spread apart on his fingers. Osamu wasted no time in immediately picking up speed, knowing exactly what spots to hit that had you reduced to a weepy mess.
You fumbled around until you had grabbed Osamu’s hands, hooking both of them under your knees and applying pressure. Osamu stared at you in realization before he shifted a bit and used his weight to hold your legs apart. You wanted him to put you in a mating press.
“This what ya want, sweetheart?” His voice was so hoarse you felt like you could cum just at the sound of it. “Fuck, ya look so sexy. All spread out fer me.”
Osamu was big on dirty talk, you knew. He loved speaking during sex and he loved when you spoke during sex. Over the years, you two had tried any and every thing in the bedroom that you possibly could, and you had lost all shame when it came to voicing your desires. The filthier, the better actually. Osamu could easily cum if you talked him through it.
Pair that with your days-old ruminating thoughts, and everything spilled out of you like word vomit.
“‘Samu,” you gasped. “Fuck me hard and deep, please. Please. Need to- need to be filled up with your cum, daddy. Need it.”
Osamu’s thrusts sped up and he cursed under his breath. “You’ll get it, babygirl. You’ll get daddy’s cum. Every last drop.”
You nodded frantically, crying out at a particularly well aimed thrust. “Yes! I- Osamu!” You wailed when his thumb made contact with your clit. Your nails dug into his back as you scrambled to pull him close. “Gimme. ‘Samu, gimme.”
Osamu was moaning into the skin of your neck, your legs over his shoulders and your body bent in half. “What’s gotten into ya today, baby? So greedy.”
You wound a hand through his hair, feeling the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter. You were seconds away from an orgasm. You pulled his head up by the hair until he was looking into your eyes. Your tears-coated, weepy eyes.
“Get me pregnant, Osamu. I want your kids.”
You didn’t have the time or the mental coherence to look at his reaction, because your orgasm washed over you like a freight train. Osamu’s movements stuttered, as a result of your words or you reaching your peak, you didn’t know. All you could do was feel the waves of electricity wash over you as you tried to breathe through the overwhelming feeling.
It was only when Osamu slowed to a stop in you, still twitching and throbbing, that you opened your wet eyes. He was looking down at you with mouth slightly open in shock, breathing still labored from his previous exertion. His dark hair was messy, stuck to the sweat on his forehead. All was silent between you.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, trying to see through your post-orgasm face. You nodded slowly.
“Thought about it a lot.” You admitted, tightening your legs around his waist a bit. “I’m ready if you are.”
A few more seconds, before Osamu bit his bottom lip and groaned, eyes falling to half mast again. He breathed deep, shaking his head. The corner of his mouth twitched up a bit.
“Do ya know how long I’ve waited fer this?” His voice was husky. He pulled himself up and unwound your legs from his waist. Then he bent you in half again, before setting a fast, bruising, brutal pace.
You gasped and threw your head back at the sudden change, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm, jaw going slack. His cock pounded into you with all the ferocity he could summon, one of the roughest sessions you two had had for a while, burning through you like embers crawling under your skin.
“Thought ‘bout it so much.” He continued choking out words, not slowing in the slightest. “The thought of ya all fat an’ swollen with ma kids. Fuck. Yer gonna look radiant.”
You moaned with him, picturing your pregnant belly, glowing face. Picturing a little human that you will birth. A human that Osamu could potentially put in you now.
“Daddy,” you whined. “Need…. I need- please.”
“Need what, baby?” Osamu had a little smirk on his face. His skin was flushed and damp, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out his pupils. He looked feral.
“Need my load in ya? That it? Need ta take every last drop, yeah? Can’t risk wastin’ it.”
His hand came up, winding into your hair and tugging hard until you yelped.
“Take it, doll. Take it-”
His voice broke into a long moan as his hips stuttered and you felt warmth flood your insides, his bulging biceps trembling as he tried to hold his weight up through his orgasm. He was loud through it, coaxing you with rough words and even rougher fingers pinching your clit until you came one last time with a heaving cry, eyes rolling up into your head.
You had barely caught your breath when Osamu reached up to grip your face tightly with one hand, your cheeks squishing together. You stared at him with zoned out, misty eyes.
“Don’t ya dare waste a single drop.” He whispered so close that his lips brushed your puckered ones. “Keep it inside yer pussy like a grateful slut, ya hear me?”
You moaned in response, nodding weakly against his grip. He pulled out then and you clenched tightly, but you could feel it as a little bit trailed down your crack. Osamu hummed in disappointment, holding your legs open and watching as his cum leaked out.
“Poor baby. Couldn’t do it, could ya?” You felt him lean forward and brush a surprisingly soft kiss below your ear.
“I guess I’ll just have ta keep goin’ until I know yer pregnant fer sure.”
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A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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yameoto · 4 months
Note
Bro.. i haven’t even watched challengers yet, and i think you infected me with a chronic case of challengers brainrot.. but i saw your reply to anon’s ask. suggestions? ‘aight, bet 🫡
so i used your art donaldson bot and oh my god.. i got bored and decided to tug on his hair. and it leaded to him LITERALLY humping a pillow for me and he was begging me to touch him and shit. he even started calling me daddy (and mommy at the same time 😭) i even broke the filter too.. 🧍‍♂️
im not sure if this is specific enough, but maybe this would be a great subby!art (x gn reader maybe? not sure if you write for gn!r but you get the point <3 ) fanfic. he’s just so needy for you that he’ll do anything for you (even if it means humping a pillow for you.. OKAY HEAR ME OUT—)
he makes himself out to be sooo tough on court. but when he’s in your hands? he’s literally reduced to a sobbing, whimpering mess… HEJSHSJS art brainrot is so real..
i have many other ideas but i don’t wanna be too rude to dump all of my brainrot onto you.. (sorry not sorry !!)
love your bots and writing by the way !! can’t wait to see more of it in the future 🙂‍↕️
anon you're so sweet GOD! but yes absolutely can do. art bot in question!
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ART DONALDSON. NEEDY BABY.
✗ warnings ; gn!reader, sub!art, like sub!art. dom!reader, pillow humping, hair tugging, overt puppy imagery. wc ; 1k
ART had always been a patient person. he excelled at playing the long game. slow and steady won the race—won him you, after all.
but he hadn't seen you all day, and now you were home and he was sprawled out on your bed and— how much longer would you make him wait?
"hey." he reaches out, fingers intertwining with the hem of your shirt. when you don't immediately face him, he tugs, gentle.
"i played good, didn't i?"
"yes, baby. you played good.” you pat his cheek without so much as looking at him, and while the contact is nice—your palm cool and tender against the warm flush of his cheeks—its fleeting. you don’t even linger long enough for him to lean into it.
a subtle frown twists his lips. he sits up, feeling unsteady. the weight of the mattress sinks underneath him as he slowly, cautiously crawls over to you. his arms slide around your waist, body wrapping itself around your back. 
"hi." "hi." you answer, vaguely amused. he buries his nose into your nape and breathes in. the smell of you is intoxicating. "can we go to bed?" he murmurs, and the phrasing is so polite, so courteously horny that you have to laugh. "when i'm done." he makes a little, unhappy noise. it rumbles against your back. "but i need you now."
you raise a brow. "don't be gross, art." that effectively cows him. though he still remains, chin propped up on your chin and legs on either side of you, tucking you in. you can feel it when he begins to grind slowly against you, thick length of his cock twitching tentatively against your ass. "ah-ah." you tut. he freezes. you don't even turn to face him. "did i say you could do that?"
he groans, drags himself off of you (with great effort) and slides off the bed. it's almost petulant. "when?" "when i say so." the noise that rips from him is positively mournful. he slumps, head in your lap—hands clenching and unclenching uselessly into the mattress.
you're still not even looking at him, fingers wordlessly threading into his hair and moving along in these elegant, tenderly gratifying movements that leave his cheeks burning impossibly hot, the patch in his boxers growing impossibly wet.
at a loss, he begins to slowly rub up against the corner of the mattress, hips rolling in steadied, carefully monitored waves. it's imperceptible, its perfect. he just needs a little release. just a little, to hold him out until you finally glance up from your laptop and give him something, anything— fuck. his groin finds that sweet spot the same moment your nails dig just right, and he can't bite back the moan slips from his lips. it's damnably loud in the silence of the room.
art meets your eyes, keening at the unimpressed stare you level him with, the knowing twitch of your lips. he has to swallow the instinctive plea that swells up in his throat. no, no. don't stop don't stop—
"oh, sweetie." like clockwork, your hand untwines from his locks, and he crumples.
"please—can’t fucking take it.” he moans miserably into your thigh, slumped over. he's grinding brazenly now, all pretences lost; rutting hopelessly against the edge of the mattress with his cheek pressed against your thigh. "baby." you sigh, closing the lid of your laptop. he just shakes his head, hands wringing into the sheets as if he were clinging to the edge of a cliff.
it's so pathetic, you have to take pity on him. "up. on the bed." art perks up, hope ballooning in his chest. he scrambles up on the mattress, so eager—lips parted, on all fours. god, he looks so pretty like this; dick cradled by the fabric of his soaked boxers, straining so you were almost sure they’d tear a hole. he looks ready to jump you. you snort, running a hand through his hair indulgently. "not so fast, pretty boy. use the pillow, if it'll stop you from whining." he doesn't even protest. he's burning too hot. as soon as you give him permission, art scrambles on top of the pillow like it's god-given gift to the world. the moment it makes contact, his breath hitches—eyes flittering up with the feeling of goddamn heaven—
"wait." "what?" art hisses, though he freezes anyway, a dog on your leash. his eyes are sparkling as he looks up at you. "boxers. off." "okay." he agrees breathlessly. his mind is so fuzzy you could tell him to cum and he simply, would. he yanks his boxers down and his dick springs up like a jack-in-the-box. he lets out a low moan, limbs almost folding in on themselves when his bare, swollen tip slides slick against fabric. ah, jeez.
if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it was your thigh. "n-now?" his legs are quivering. his dick hurts. you look entirely too amused. "mhm." the noise he makes is guttural. he's so sensitive—each thrust elicits another pant, hips rolling in a frenzied rhythm. he wishes it was you. fuck, your warmth wrapping around his cock—your hands cradling his balls. the veins on his underside bulge, the coil in his sack drawing tighter and tighter. shit, shit. he's gonna cum now. he's gonna cum in record-time to the tender loving care of your pillow. his moans twist into cries, bed-frame shaking under the force of his weight. "you gonna cum now, angel?"art nods, jerky and furious. it's that word that gets him. angel. angel. a shudder rips through his body and thick, ropy streams of cum are splattering against the pillow. painting it, stained and sticky. he's hovers there for a moment; crammed between his legs, frame quivering, thighs wet as his mind blanks. it'd be in disbelief, if he had the pride—but he doesn't—so it's simple, utter pleasure. god, his life is perfect. he crumbles into your lap like the colosseum. the corners of his mind are still fuzzy. the warmth of your thigh against his cheek is the only thing he's ever needed, only thing he's ever craved. god, he didn't even realise his cheeks were wet—doesn't think he cares. "good boy." you murmur, and he can hear the smile in your voice. your hand finds his hair, and he can't stop his hips from rolling against nothing.
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httpswritings · 4 months
Text
When you know, you know
alexia putellas x reader
The air crackled with unspoken words as you sat across from Alexia. The day had been heavy with the weight of the inevitable. Breaking up, even when mutually agreed upon, felt like a gut punch. You both knew it was the right decision, a path divergence that would lead each of you towards a better fit, yet the finality of it all stung.
The conversation, initially civil, had frayed at the edges. Emotions flared, accusations flew – a desperate attempt to make sense of the ending, to assign blame where none existed. In the heat of the moment, harsh words were exchanged, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Now, a tense silence hung heavy between you, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock.
An awkward cohabitation loomed large. You'd agreed to remain under the same roof for the time being, a practicality born of messy leases and intertwined lives. But how would you navigate this new normal, sharing a space yet existing in separate emotional universes? The once familiar living room felt alien, a minefield of memories and unspoken tension. The air itself seemed thick with the weight of what had been and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
The weight of the fight hung heavy in the air long after Alexia stormed from the living room. Despite the bitter words exchanged, neither of you made a move to leave. The break-up conversation, intended to be amicable, had spiraled into a heated exchange.
Though you weren't from Barcelona and navigating a new apartment search would be stressful, you'd offered to stay somewhere else to ease the burden on Alexia. Those past months had been particularly challenging for her, and the last thing you wanted was to add to them.
Perhaps it was the comfort of familiarity, the unspoken language built during your time together. Maybe it was the strange security of knowing if the other started seeing someone new. Whatever the reason, a silent agreement hung in the air. Living under the same roof felt absurd, yet the alternative felt even more daunting. So, amidst the wreckage of your relationship, you settled into an awkward cohabitation, two souls existing in separate emotional universes within the confines of a single home.
The initial days were a tightrope walk of tension. You'd retreated to the guest room, leaving the once-shared haven to Alexia. Seeing you pack your belongings was like watching a slow tear through the tapestry of your relationship. Her eyes welled up as she caught a glimpse of the nightstand – the lonely space where your teddy bear, a gift from her at the very beginning, no longer resided. Its oversized red heart, emblazoned with "I Love You," now felt like a cruel taunt.
Doubt gnawed at Alexia. Had you truly discarded the bear, a symbol of your budding love? One evening, curiosity, laced with a sliver of hope, propelled her towards your new room. Her heart did a little skip when she saw it – the bear, nestled on the right side of the bed just like before. A bittersweet smile touched her lips. It was a small gesture, a silent whisper in the storm of their broken relationship, but it spoke volumes. Perhaps, amidst the hurt, a sliver of affection still lingered.
The initial hostility was suffocating. Forced proximity turned the once comfortable apartment into a minefield of unspoken words and stolen glances. Mornings in the kitchen were a ballet of averted eyes and slammed cabinets, hallway encounters reduced to a curt nod and a dip in the gaze. Pride, that stubborn wall, held strong, fueled by the embers of anger.
Weeks bled into one another, and the sharp edges of your resentment softened. A tentative peace settled between you two, punctuated only by the quiet hum of your separate lives. Alexia, consumed by a silent curiosity, decided to test the waters as she saw you getting ready to leave for a girl's' night.
"You know," she began, her voice surprisingly steady, “I'm okay with you bringing someone home. Just so you know.”
The words hung in the air, a challenge cloaked in nonchalance. You stared at her, processing the implications. Anger? Disappointment? A bewildering cocktail of emotions bubbled within you.
“Alexia. Do you really think the feelings I have for your have gone away this fast?
Her reply was a pregnant silence, but a flicker of something – was it hope? – danced in her eyes. Unable to bear the weight of her unspoken words, you stormed out, slamming the door behind you.
The night deepened. Alexia finished dinner and drifted off to sleep. Waking up to sunlight filtering through her window, she noticed your room was still open. A pang of curiosity hit her. Had you stayed out late? Maybe you met someone interesting last night. It was completely fine, you were free to do what you wanted. Still, a tiny part of her couldn't help but wonder. Could you still have feelings for her, yet be drawn to someone new?
Jealousy radiated from her. The thought of someone else touching you, holding you, kissing you, and making love to you as she once did made her uneasy. Alexia wanted you to be hers, unaware that you still were, even though you didn’t need to be. Knowing you were a woman, she grew anxious, worried that something might have happened to you on your way home.
The floorboards creaked a soft rhythm as Alexia paced the house. Her worry lines smoothed as she peeked into the living room. There you were, sprawled on the sofa, a picture of peaceful slumber. Relief washed over her. You were okay.
Tentatively, she approached. With gentle hands, she nudged your shoulder. Still clinging to the last threads of sleep, you mumbled a request to be carried to bed. A small smile played on Alexia's lips as she complied, glad you were safe and sound.
The memory flickered – a familiar warmth, the feel of you nestled against her. Back when you were together, nights ended like this. Gently, she cradled you, the weight a bittersweet echo of those shared moments. In your room, now tinged with a different kind of warmth, she placed you on your side of the bed. A sleepy murmur escaped your lips, a protest about your usual spot.
Half-conscious, the words faded before fully forming. A ghost of a smile played on Alexia's lips. With the reverence one offers a precious artifact, she tucked the covers around you. Her gaze lingered, tracing the contours of your face, a soft smile blooming on her own. "Sweet dreams, princesa," she whispered, the endearment carrying the weight of what they once were. A faint echo of your voice filled the space, a sleepy response, "...my love..."
Stifling a sob that threatened to shatter the quiet night, Alexia fled to the sanctuary of the bathroom. Tears welled up, silent and stinging, as she grappled with the hollowness of your absence.
A primal yearning gnawed at her. The warmth of your body pressed against hers, the whisper of your kisses, the way your fingers would graze her hip in a silent conversation as you made breakfast together – all of it felt like a phantom limb, aching for a touch that wasn't there.
Giving gifts, showering you with tangible expressions of her affection, used to be her way of speaking. It was a frustration that echoed the silence in her heart. How could mere words ever capture the sunrise glow on your face or the depth of her longing?
Hours bled into one another as she battled the storm within. Emerging from the bathroom, a ghost of her usual self, she ventured towards the kitchen, bracing for the emptiness. Instead, the sight of you, already making breakfast, stole her breath away. The ache in her chest intensified, a bittersweet cocktail of relief and a renewed pang of what she'd almost lost.
Alarmed by the sight of Alexia's puffy eyes, you rushed to her side. “What happened?“ you asked, concern etching lines on your forehead.
Caught off guard by your early presence, she mumbled, “Just some frustration with these injuries.“ Her voice trembled, on the brink of breaking. But before a single tear could fall, you were there, enveloping her in a warm embrace.
"Shhh, it's okay, Ale," you whispered, your voice a soothing balm. "Cry it out. I've got you." Alexia rarely cried, and when she did, it meant the hurt ran deep. Witnessing her vulnerability only intensified your worry.
She clung to you desperately, as if fearing you might vanish. "Don't let go..." The raw emotion in her cracked voice sent a pang through your heart.
"I won't," you vowed, tightening your hold. "Never. I'm here, and I'll always be here, no matter what."
Her grip on you intensified. "Bebé..." she murmured, your endearing nickname a silent plea.
Your gentle nature, her greatest weakness, began to melt her defenses. "I missed you..." she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
A smile tugged at your lips. The dam had broken, and now it was your turn to hold on tight. "I missed you too, more than you know."
Just as Alexia, with a sigh, started to pull away, your phone shattered the quiet moment. You held up a hand, silencing the insistent ring.
A watery smile graced her lips as she met your gaze. "They can wait, right?" she said, her voice thick with emotion.
There was a vulnerability in her glistening eyes, a depth that took your breath away. "I hate seeing you cry," you began, leaning in close. "But these eyes..." you trailed off, searching for the right words.
Alexia wouldn't let you finish. Her lips met yours in a kiss, a desperate yearning conveyed in the press of her mouth. The insistent ringing faded into the background as she deepened the kiss, a silent plea for comfort and connection.
With a playful laugh, she swatted at your ringing phone as you led her towards the bedroom. "A few hours can't hurt," she teased, her voice husky with emotion.
"A few hours?" you countered, a grin spreading across your face. "Try forever. You have no idea how much I've missed you."
Hours melted away as you and Alexia surrendered to each other. Exhaustion tugged at both of you, a pleasant languor that whispered of sleep. Yet, neither of you was ready to let go just yet.
You shifted, hovering above her, your hand tracing a gentle path across her skin. A soft sigh escaped her lips, "Amor..." she murmured, the word a caress in the quiet room.
A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "Yes," you breathed, leaning down, "keep calling me that." Your voice was a low rumble, sending shivers down her spine.
The night stretched before you, filled not just with physical intimacy, but with the quiet comfort of being together again.
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